“You don’t see it?” I asked them. “The demon, biting her?”
Oliver looked concerned and reached out, placing his hand against my forehead. “Do you need more rest?”
I swatted his hand away. “I’m fine.”
Neither of them saw it, and I couldn’t make sense of that. Oliver’s concern was tangible, but General Ronen looked confused, as if debating whether to comment or simply move on.
Before either could speak, the heavy doors creaked open with a groan, revealing a bald male in white and gold robes. His sharp gaze locked onto mine with unnerving intensity.
I didn’t like that.
The bald male dipped his chin to General Ronen. “Leave us.”
“With pleasure.”
The general snapped his fingers and pointed toward the door. Rune sat, her eyes fixed on her master.
He gave her a brief nod before turning, not sparing us a second glance. Poor guy. Dropping off thehellionmust’ve been traumatizing. Now he could enjoy his miserable life in peace. Considering how much of a struggle it had been to escort us one floor down, he deserved the day off—maybe a massage.
We followed the bald male through the door. As it closed, I heard Rune whine, her head peeking through the narrowing gap.
“Rune, you know the rules. Stay,” General Ronen barked down the hall.
Rune’s head dropped, and she obediently sat back out of view.
My chest tightened. The doors shut, and I turned my attention back to the bald male. “Why can’t she come in?” I asked.
“I don’t allow any creatures, food, or thieving hands in my library,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact as he continued his purposeful walk.
Of course the grumpy male didn’t.
We walked along white marbled floors, past towering dark shelves packed with books in every imaginable color. Gilded labels glinted from the glass orbs dangling overhead, each flickering with fire.
The romantic atmosphere of the library tugged at the corner of my lips. I tilted my head back, following the rows of books up to the skylight.
“Lucille and the Nephilim.”
My head jerked back down, finding the king standing near a table, clasping the bald male’s arm.
“He does have a name, you know,” I chided.
“This is Cato, our Throne. In writing, he can distinguish between fact and lies and retains everything he reads. He’ll be teaching you the ins and outs of our world. When you’re not with him, you’ll be with me, learning about control,” the king said, completely disregarding my comment.
Control? Should he be the one teaching me about control when he almost pulverized us with his ice yesterday?
He must’ve seen the attitude on my face because he stepped closer, his white-ringed eyes burning into mine. “Make no mistake, Lucille—I am not Michael. But I am the King of Hell, and any grief you give me will be repaid in your training.”
“Understood,” I bit out.
He smiled knowingly, then nodded. “Before I leave you with Cato, you and the Nephilim need blood-bands, and you need an Evanescent Rune.”
“A what and a what?” Oliver asked.
My thoughts exactly. Not sure I wanted either.
Cato lifted the sleeve of his robe, revealing a thin red band of ink.
“He’s as tall and scrawny as I am. Maybe I should shave my head and become a Throne,” Oliver whispered in my ear.
