Santiago gave a slow nod. “Always.”


Chapter 2


The Oracles’ current lair


Halfway between Chicago and St. Louis


Nefri made her return to the mortal world on a high bluff overlooking the Mississippi River.


She shivered, wrapping her long cape tight around her tall, slender body. Not from the cold, although the October night held a chill that had been absent during her last visit to this side of the Veil. But instead from the onslaught of sensations.


It was all so . . . overwhelming.


The scent of damp earth and the thick moss that edged the banks of the nearby river. The screech of an owl and the rustle of dead leaves. The feel of her long black hair stirring in the breeze.


And, of course, the more intimate sensations.


Fear. Hunger.


Passion.


Standing perfectly still, Nefri smoothed her pale, oval face to an unreadable mask, a serene smile curving her lips and her ebony eyes revealing none of her inner turmoil.


Her considerable strength could overcome most dangers in this world, but the Commission was made up of the most powerful demons. They could eradicate her with a mere thought.


It was always like walking a tightrope when she was forced to meet with them. A tightrope that might snap at any second and plunge her to her death.


At last prepared, Nefri stepped through the entrance of the caves that had been hidden behind a spell of illusion and moved to the center of the large chamber. On cue a Zalez demon appeared.


Just for a second there was the impression of a tall gaunt body with an overlarge head and tilted, almond-shaped eyes. Then the creature shifted into its human form, a Viking warrior with short, spiky blond hair and eyes the stormy blue of the Baltic Sea. His magnificent body was bronzed and fit for a god, which wasn’t surprising considering he’d been worshipped by more than one primitive society. At the moment that magnificent form was covered only by a pair of faded denims that hung low on his hips.


Nefri gave a small dip of her head, fiercely leashing her female reaction to the sexual pheromones released by the demon.


Zalez demons were part incubus and capable of becoming whatever form their companion most desired. Nefri had no desire to reveal her deepest fantasy.


Not after she’d devoted the past month to pretending those fantasies didn’t exist.


“Recise,” she murmured.


“Ah, Nefri, so good of you to come.” His voice stroked over her like warm velvet, his smile charming despite the fact they both knew she hadn’t had a choice.


An invitation from the Commission was an imperial command that only the most idiotic demon would ignore.


“Your messenger insisted that it was important,” she said.


Recise gave a slow blink. “The Oracles do not interfere in matters of the world unless it is of the utmost importance.”


Not boasting. Just simple arrogance.


“Yes, of course.”


“This way.”


Moving with a fluid grace, Recise led Nefri through the darkness, the pulse of his sexual energy easing as if realizing Nefri wasn’t in the mood to play.


They moved in silence through the tunnels that angled deep into the earth. The air was cool but surprisingly without the dampness that she expected, although she could hear the splash of a waterfall not far away.


More distantly she could catch the sound of muffled conversations, the languages as diverse as the creatures who made up the Commission. Like the United Nations, only with lethal demons who were happier killing things than negotiating.


Nefri hid her grimace as her companion came to a halt at the entrance to a large cavern.


“The Oracle is waiting for you in the back chamber.”


“Thank you.”


She waited until the Zalez continued down the tunnel before stepping into the cavern and allowing her senses to flow outward. It wasn’t that she expected a trap. If the Oracles wanted her dead, she’d be dead.


But the Oracles had a varied sense of moral values. She didn’t want to walk in on demons having a public orgy, or sacrificing an innocent to their particular gods.


It wasn’t until she caught the scent of brimstone that she moved forward. She was familiar with this particular Oracle.


Crossing the smooth stone floor, she ignored the barren surroundings that were hardly suitable for the most powerful creatures on earth.


Each of the Oracles had their own private, and usually lavish lairs, but during the battle against the Dark Lord they’d gathered together in these caves. The fact that they remained wasn’t particularly reassuring.


Reaching the back of the cave, Nefri caught sight of the tiny demon who was staring into a shallow pool of water, her three-foot body covered by a long white gown.


At a glance it would be easy to mistake her for a human child, with her heart-shaped face and silver hair that was in a long braid nearly brushing the ground. But a closer look revealed the strange oblong eyes that were a solid black. Eyes that were filled with an ancient knowledge.


Oh, and then there were the sharp, pointed teeth.


And the barely leashed power that could shatter cities.


“Siljar?” she murmured when the female continued to gaze into the water, studying some image she’d scryed.


With a wave of her hand, Siljar dismissed the image and heaved a heavy sigh. “Children today,” she complained as she turned her attention toward Nefri.


“I can return another time if you’re busy.”


“No, this is important.” Siljar pointed a finger toward the lone wooden chair. “Sit.”


Nefri obeyed without hesitation, perching on the edge of the chair and folding her hands in her lap.


“Does this have anything to do with the Dark Lord?”


Siljar shook her head. “No, that chapter is closed.”


“Thank heavens,” Nefri said in genuine relief.


Siljar held up a small hand. “Do not be overly hasty.”


Nefri’s serene expression never faltered. It rarely did. She’d had centuries of practice in hiding her emotions. To the point that many assumed she no longer possessed them.


Inside, however, a ball of dread was forming in the pit of her stomach. If new trouble was brewing there was no reason to specifically seek her assistance, unless . . .


“This has something to do with the Veil, doesn’t it?”


Siljar gave a slow dip of her head. “It has more to do with what the Veil was created to contain.”


The ball in Nefri’s stomach doubled in size. It had been nearly four centuries ago that she’d approached the Commission asking for sanctuary and been given the medallion that allowed her to lead her clan beyond the Veil.


So far as the world was concerned her only interest was creating a new home for those vampires who sought absolute peace.


Only she and the Oracles knew the truth.


Or actually, only the Oracles knew the truth, she wryly conceded.


She had a few, bare-bones facts and dire warnings. And she’d been fine with that. The less she knew, the easier it was for her to pretend that the paradise she’d created wasn’t built on a cesspit.


“I don’t understand,” she said.


Siljar paced to the ceramic pitcher set on a flat slab of rock. Pouring herself a glass of some golden liquid that smelled remarkably like Hennessy, she tossed it back like a seasoned drunk.


“It is suspected that Gaius came through the rift with the Dark Lord.”


“I heard rumors that he’d been seen during the battle, but no one could say with any certainty what happened to him,” Nefri said. “I assumed he was killed.”


“No, he was recently seen in the lair he used during his stay in this world.”


Nefri’s lips tightened. No one blamed her for Gaius’s betrayal. Well, no one but the aggravating Santiago. He, of course, assumed she was to blame for every evil in the world. The annoying ass.


But she couldn’t help but regret the fact that she hadn’t suspected there was more to Gaius’s desire to become a part of her clan beyond his pretense of grieving for his dead mate.


“Do you believe he intends to cause trouble?” she asked.


“Not the vampire.”


Nefri blinked. “Is this a puzzle?”


“A puzzle with too many pieces.”


By all the gods, why couldn’t Oracles just say what they wanted without all the mumbo jumbo?


“Why are you troubled by Gaius?” Her tone was carefully bland. “Without the power of the Dark Lord he should be easy enough to defeat.”


“Because of this.” Setting her empty glass on the flat stone, Siljar picked up a folded newspaper and handed it to Nefri.


She read the top of the front page. A small town newspaper from Louisiana? She continued to skim down to the lead headline.


“‘An outbreak of violence in southern Louisiana’?” she quoted out loud before lifting her head to meet Siljar’s piercing scrutiny. “I assume this is somehow relevant?”


“That is where Gaius is hidden.”


Nefri remained confused. “You think he’s responsible for the violence?”


“I am not entirely certain.” There was a long pause, as if Siljar was holding a silent debate with herself. Then the tiny demon squared her shoulders. “This must stay between us.”