“Huh.”
“I’ve already learned the spells. Wait until I show Bastian. This is way better than having to cast a heating spell on your bath after filling it with icy water.”
“Prince Bastian didn’t send you here for bath spells,” Eryx shouted from the other room.
Wincing, Clio dejectedly replaced the crystal in its slot.
Kassia squeezed her shoulder. “You’re doing your best, Clio. Don’t let him bother you.”
Clio glanced nervously at the wall between her and the angry chimera. “I’ve never seen him upset like this before.”
“He’s usually on his best behavior around you and Bastian.” Kassia raised her voice. “He’s a complete ass the rest of the time.”
Clio flinched, knowing Eryx had heard that last bit. Kassia knew Eryx far better than Clio did. The two chimeras were cousins from a large, extended family that had produced many talented warriors.
With thundering steps, Eryx appeared in the bathroom doorway.
“I might be an ass,” he growled, his dark stare flashing between Kassia and Clio, “but at least I’m not totally incompetent.”
Her breath caught. When a daemon started losing his temper, his darkening eyes was an irrefutable warning to tread carefully.
Daemons weren’t like humans. They had much stronger instincts—both predatory and self-preservation—and sometimes those instincts took over. Humans called it “shading.” The daemon stopped thinking in terms of logic or law or reason, and simply acted—often violently. It worried Clio to see Eryx sliding out of control.
She understood though. Their visit to the Underworld was inciting a dangerous cocktail of frustration, helplessness, stress, and fear that was almost guaranteed to push any daemon’s control to the limit.
Kassia studied her cousin, then folded her arms. “Get a grip, Eryx. This isn’t over yet.”
“What’s left?” he spat. “In a couple hours, she disengaged a high-level ward while the master weaver was watching, caused another weaver to kill himself, caused another weaver to blow up half their lower level, mimicked an advanced shielding technique in front of witnesses, lost her mask so the incubus recognized her, caused the entire building to shut down, and made us all look like fools!”
Clio shrunk more with each accusation. With Eryx blocking the only exit, the spacious bathroom felt claustrophobic.
“No one saw me mimic the shield,” she mumbled.
“And if she hadn’t, the explosion would’ve killed her,” Kassia added. “You’re overreacting, Eryx.”
“Overreacting? She screwed up everything, and she didn’t get a read on a single useful spell.”
“Once Chrysalis fixes things, they’ll call her back.”
“The incubus recognized her. They’ll be suspicious now.”
Kassia took an aggressive step closer to Eryx and his eyes darkened from burgundy to black. Clio swallowed nervously.
“Back off, Eryx. Shouting at Clio won’t change anything. When we came here, we didn’t know anyone would recognize her. But it happened, and now we have to figure out how to deal with it.”
Eryx flexed his jaw, black eyes fixed on Kassia and his face oddly emotionless—calculating instead of angry. Some castes had inherently stronger instincts that pushed them toward aggression or violence—and for some, their instincts were so loud they didn’t even recognize their allies, seeing only potential threats instead. Chimeras fell somewhere in the middle, while nymphs like Clio were unaggressive compared to most.
Kassia advanced on Eryx and he conceded, backing out of the doorway. Clio reluctantly followed her into the living space. The building, a two-story structure located a few streets away from the canal that separated Chrysalis’s industrial-style quadrant from the rest of Asphodel, looked like an old-fashioned manor from the outside, with an exotic peaked roof and beautifully carved wood embellishments.
In contrast, its interior resembled a modern Earth hotel—minus electricity—with a lobby, a small restaurant, and a dozen sizable suites for guests. The main room of their suite had a low sofa, a coffee table, and a desk in the corner, with a separate bedroom holding two large beds. And, of course, the luxury bathroom.
Eryx paced across the room and leaned against the wall by the sliding door to the small balcony. Beyond the glass, the sky was pitch black, and only the lights of the many buildings within the estate offered any perspective.
Clio retreated to the sofa and dropped onto it. She’d shed the oversized sleeves and several layers of her costume, leaving her with a fitted, sleeveless top with a hood, a wide belt of fabric around her waist, and a single white skirt. Her mask was long gone, buried in the rubble of the collapsed ceiling in Chrysalis.
Kassia sat beside her, glaring at Eryx. Clio resisted the urge to apologize. She’d already apologized profusely while telling them what had happened.
Eryx heaved a long sigh and looked up with eyes that were deep red instead of black. “I’m sorry, Clio. Coming here has just been … it’s hard to keep a level head when so much is riding on this.”
“I know,” she mumbled. “What do we do?”
“The incubus recognized you.” Kassia tapped the arm of the sofa. “My first instinct is to retreat, but I’m afraid of how they might react if we suddenly want to leave.”
“We’d look damn suspicious,” Eryx agreed.
“And we’ve already made our down payment,” Clio added. “I can start negotiations like we planned, and see what happens.”
“But will you be able to get a read on some spells?” Eryx asked. “We don’t want their usual warfare magic. We need to get your eyes on their best magic.”
“Clio’s safety is our top priority,” Kassia replied sharply. “Getting her through this alive takes precedence over finding spells.”
“As long as we’re here, we should figure out how to get what we came for. Otherwise, all the risks will have been for nothing.”
Clio fidgeted with her skirt. “I can probably convince Lyre to finish my tour.”
“That incubus recognized you,” Eryx said with a shake of his head. “And you disengaged a ward in front of him. Our first move should be getting you a different consultant.”
“That won’t improve anything,” she said firmly.
“Do you just want to keep him as your consultant so you can keep drooling over him?”
“What? No!” She pressed her hands against her thighs. “Lyre is … I think I can handle him better than anyone else they might assign as my consultant.”
“Handle him,” Eryx repeated mockingly. “Is that what you want to call it?”
“Shut up, Eryx,” Kassia cut in. “When Chrysalis calls Clio back, she can try again to negotiate with Lyre. Chances are, even if he’s suspicious of her, he won’t do anything about it.”
Eryx looked back to Clio. “How are you going to get their good spells in your sights?”
She pursed her lips. “I’ll see first if he’ll finish my tour. If not, then I’ll have him bring spells to me.”
“And if he won’t?”
“I’ll have to try something else.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “I’ll figure it out as I go along.”
He pushed away from the wall and paced across the room. “We should go over your plan until you know exactly what—”
Clio got to her feet. “What I need is a break from all of this. Let me relax for ten minutes before you start drilling me again.”
Ignoring his protest, she slid the balcony door open and stepped into the cool night air. Nudging the door most of the way shut, she leaned against the railing, inhaling deeply. The air smelled so strange.
Beyond the dark roofs, the Hades palace rose above the other buildings, its lights seeming to sparkle. In the distance beyond them, glowing spots revealed the locations of the regularly spaced watchtowers that circled the estate.
She craned her neck, peering at the velvety black sky. No stars interrupted the empty
expanse, but she could almost make out what might be heavy cloud cover hiding in the darkness. No hint of coming dawn touched any horizon. Was it always this dark? Was this a world of never-ending night? She doubted it. How would plants grow without sunlight? Where would the trees in the Chrysalis lobby have come from if this was a dead world of darkness?
She propped her elbows on the rail and supported her chin with one hand, staring absently across the beautiful but somehow haunting lights of Asphodel.
“You need to stop testing my patience,” Kassia said, her voice audible through the crack in the door. “I won’t let you bully Clio.”
“I thought she’d do better than this.”
“She’s doing her best, and you can keep your opinions to yourself,” Kassia growled. “Your job is to keep Clio safe. Her life depends on her focus and levelheadedness, and if you upset her again, I’ll tie you up and gag you for the rest of this trip.”
“You can try,” Eryx growled back.
“I can, and I will.” Kassia’s voice dropped further, until Clio had to strain to hear. “Have you forgotten you were the Nereid family’s second choice for Bastian’s personal guard?”
He snorted dismissively. “How many times have you regretted turning him down since they dumped you into exile with Clio?”
“Protecting Clio is a pleasure. I’d take her any day over fawning at Bastian’s feet.” Kassia’s tone hardened again. “If protecting her means walking out of here without Bastian’s precious war spells, then so be it. And if you disagree, you can stay here and get the spells yourself.”
Eryx snarled, and footsteps thudded on the floor. A door slammed.
Clio bit her lower lip, blinking away tears. She had to fight the urge to run inside and hug Kassia until her arms seized. She’d had no idea Bastian had offered Kassia Eryx’s job first. Was her rejection of that offer the reason Bastian always refused to acknowledge her presence?
The balcony door slid open and Kassia joined her at the railing. Sniffling, Clio offered her friend a watery smile.
“You heard, huh?” Kassia murmured.
“Yeah.”
“Eryx is an ass.”
“You’ve mentioned that before. Where did he go?”
“To walk off his temper, I presume. If he gets himself killed wandering around Asphodel, well, I can’t say I’d be heartbroken.”
Clio gripped her friend’s hand. “Thank you, Kass. For everything.”
Kassia returned the squeeze. “You be careful when you go back there, Clio. We need to get out of this alive.”
She nodded. “I’ll make it work.”
“So you think you can handle that incubus?”
Clio drummed her fingers on the railing. “I think so. He … he isn’t what I expected.”
“Oh?”
“He’s kind of a contradiction. One minute he seems cold and cruel just like I’d expect from someone who invents bloodthirsty spells for a living, but then other times he seems …”
“He seems what?” Kassia prompted.
“I don’t know.” How did she explain that in a few rare moments he’d seemed like a completely different person from the remorseless master weaver? A person who’d lied to spare her feelings, who’d teased her about getting stuck to the spelled door, who’d carefully pulled her hood up so she didn’t get debris in her hair?
“Clio? Clio.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
Kassia gave her a warning look. “You can’t get all soft and misty-eyed over this guy. He’s an incubus. Everything he does is a form of calculated seduction.”
Clio frowned uncertainly.
“Have you been watching him with your asper to make sure he isn’t fogging your thoughts with his seduction magic?”
“His … what?”
“Seduction magic.” Alarm flashed across Kassia’s face. “You don’t know about incubus magic?”
“No? Should I? What magic?”
Kassia exhaled sharply. “Incubi’s caste ability. It’s called aphrodesia. It’s a magic that infects women and makes them crazy for the incubus. I’ve heard a significant dose can drive a woman insane with desperate arousal, or even that the incubus can take full control of her willpower.”
“They can—they can control our will?”
“That part might be a myth, but the rest is fact. An incubus can make you want him with his magic alone. They might not be powerful, but they’re dangerous to women, especially if they can get you alone.”
Clio gripped the railing tightly, nerves flipping in her belly. Had Lyre been dosing her with his aphrodesia magic during her tour? Was that why she’d been so fixated on him, so focused on his nearness, so overwhelmed every time he looked at her? Was that why his voice seemed to caress her every time he spoke?
She thought back. No. She’d been tuned in to her asper for over half their time together. She would have seen him using magic on her. There was literally no magic in the worlds she couldn’t perceive.
“He wasn’t using aphrodesia,” she mumbled, her nerves increasing substantially. “But I’ll be watching for it next time.”
If he already had such a strong effect on her without magic, what would a dose of his aphrodesia do to her? She could barely resist his allure as it was.
She swallowed hard. “Is there any counter to it? How do I defend myself?”
“Blast him with everything you’ve got the moment he makes a move?”
A short laugh escaped her. “I don’t see that going well, but I guess I won’t have much choice.”
Kassia put her back to the railing, leaning against it. “Do you see now why Eryx can’t stand incubi? An incubus can have any woman he wants. Ultimate power over females—exactly what Eryx wishes he had.”
Clio made a gagging noise. “Ultimate power, ugh. I’d like to think we aren’t that helpless.” She raised an eyebrow. “You really have a high opinion of Eryx, don’t you?”
“He and Bastian are a matched pair.”
Bastian wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t the scumbag Kassia thought he was. But Clio didn’t want to argue about her half-brother again, so she said nothing, letting a comfortable silence fall between them.
Soon, she would return to Chrysalis. And it worried her that, despite Kassia’s warnings about incubi, a small part of her was eager to go back—for one specific, amber-eyed reason.
She sighed and focused on the challenges waiting for her. Getting through this endless night alive would be difficult enough without the distraction of a mysterious, unpredictable incubus who was going to have some pointed questions for her upon their next meeting.
Chapter Eleven
Sprawled on his back on the sofa, Lyre turned the steel collar over in his hands, watching it spin without seeing it.
He’d deserted Chrysalis as soon as he could reasonably escape, leaving the cleanup job to someone else. Anyone else. He didn’t care. The whole building could collapse and he wouldn’t care.
So much chaos. He was kind of in shock. How could one girl trigger such pandemonium in so little time? And, really, she hadn’t done anything particularly chaos-inspiring. It had just happened, a series of unfortunate events that had added up to a near cataclysm.
He smirked at the ceiling. He probably shouldn’t be so entertained, but it was pretty hilarious.
His smile faded as his thoughts returned to Clio’s “tour.” How had she disengaged that spelled door? The ward was one of their most advanced nonlethal lock spells. It must have been faulty. There was no other explanation.
Yet she’d put her hand on the door with such confidence.
And then there was the mystery of how she’d survived Viol’s idiotic chain-reaction blast. If Andante or Ariose didn’t get to him first, Lyre would be having a long chat with his youngest brother about creating spells he couldn’t control.
A regular shield cast was exactly what it sounded like—a simple barrier of condensed force that protected a daemon from physical attacks. The more magic the da
emon fed into the cast, the stronger the shield was and the more force it could withstand. But incubi weren’t renowned for the strength of their magic, and regular shielding left them at a disadvantage.
The reflective bubble shield Viol had used to protect himself was one of Lyre’s inventions. Since he hated making weapons, his largest contributions to Chrysalis came in the form of defensive spells, including a variety of reflective or absorptive shields that were far more powerful than regular shield casts.
So how had Clio, who didn’t know his advanced shielding techniques, protected herself from an explosion designed to obliterate regular shielding?
A tap on his front door interrupted his thoughts. Without waiting for a response, Reed swung the door open and drifted into the main room as though he’d wandered inside purely by chance.
“What’s up?” Lyre asked, not bothering to straighten from his slouch.
With the sofa taken, Reed pulled a chair out from the small kitchen table and dropped into it. He nodded at the steel ring in Lyre’s hands. “Working on Eisheth’s collar?”
Lyre grimaced. “Thinking about it, I guess.”
“You have less than a dozen cycles to finish it.”
“I know.”
Reed leaned back in the chair, eyes half closed as he relaxed. “How did it go with the client?”
“Didn’t you hear?”
“Ariose didn’t offer any details.”
Lyre spun the metal hoop again. “The envoy’s name is Clio. She’s a short blond girl who attracts trouble like a magnet and doesn’t have a deceptive bone in her body. One exploded corpse just about made her faint, and I can’t figure out what the hell she’s doing here shopping for military spellcraft.”
He could feel his brother’s attention on him, but he didn’t look away from the rotating collar.
“Why not just ask her?” Reed suggested. “Find out what her real intentions are.”
“She won’t spill her secrets just because I asked.”
“Lyre.” Reed’s flat tone drew his attention. His brother gave him a long look. “You know what I mean. She’s female. You can make her tell you whatever you want.”