“I came to talk to you alone, deliciae.”
I both love and loathe that pet name, but as Arson snickers, I’m firmly on the side of hate right now. “If it’s about Mac, you can say it in front of all of us.”
“Fine.” Montrose pouts, glancing around the room.
Lake and Dempsey vibrate with excitement, and I’m reminded that talking to an actual demon is probably a unique experience for a human.
“I overheard some information in my realm. There’s a demon called Maggard. This dude is bad news. Even most demons steer clear of him. He’s very dangerous and known for killing, no questions asked.”
“Go on,” Lord says.
“He has his followers,” Montrose continues. “I heard them talking about some theft that’s been happening in some Columbian caves. Maybe elsewhere too.” His voice is dark and ominous as he cuts another accusatory look in Mac’s direction, staring right at my chest like he can see through me to my brother.
I turn and look at Mac, whose face is bright red now as he scrunches his nose. “Shoot,” he whispers.
Lord sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Maggard’s followers traced the thief’s scent and they landed on your brother.”
“How do you know it was Mac?” Hemingway asks.
“Well, unless you know another dragon named Macguire Drake, I’d say it’s him. They know his name, they know about your clan, and they plan to punish him.”
“How?” I growl.
Montrose’s eyes soften as he turns them on me. “Maggard is well known in our realm for his unique tactics. Torture is his favorite, and since he can get inside anyone’s head, he typically uses their greatest fears against them for as long as it amuseshim. He’s had some prisoners for thousands of years before he finally frees them.”
“He lets them go?” Lake asks.
“If you can call it that,” Montrose replies. “They are depleted shells of themselves. They either wander aimlessly around our realm or they jump into the lake of fire to end their misery. Even by demon standards, Maggard is pretty cruel.”
“Gods of fire, Mac,” Lord hisses. “You’ve really done it now.”
“I… The stuff was really cool. How was I supposed to know I was stealing from the Al Capone of the demon world?” Mac shuffles his feet and ducks his head.
“No supes,” Arson says. “You know the rules.”
“Maybe a distracted vampire,” Dray adds sheepishly, and Arson snickers in apparent agreement, the two of them trading a heated look before sobering and glaring at Mac again. “But definitely not a demon.”
Mac huffs. “I couldn’t help it. It was like I was lured there or something. My dragon gets excited.”
“Can he just give it back?” I ask.
Montrose shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Maggard isn’t reasonable. I came here to warn you because…” Montrose stops, glancing around at my family. “I wasn’t going to hurt your brother. I just meant to scare him. Maggard will hurt him. I thought you should at least know what you’re up against.”
My dragon clamors in my chest, pushing forward as I willfully hold him back. Montrose’s scent is vague, I assume from the stunning smell, but the hint of it I can smell is stirring my desire, which is very bad timing. Besides…
“How do I know I can trust you? Maybe it’s a trap.”
“Tell me how to prove it to you.” The edge of desperation in Montrose’s voice tightens around my insides, tugging me towards him against my will. I take one step closer to the circle and scowl at him.
Lord sighs. “I suggest we bind Xazedose to someone to keep an eye on him just in case. If it’s a trap, we’ll be able to use him to our advantage. And if he’s some kind of double agent, he won’t be able to pop back to his realm and give them intel about any of us.”
“Oh, hell no,” Montrose says, shaking his head rapidly. “I didn’t agree to be anyone’s prisoner.” His jaw ticks and his eyes flicker into those demonic slits I noticed at the hotel the last time we were together. A shiver runs up my spine.
“If you came here to entrap us, it’s only fair,” Lord reasons. “If you’re not hiding anything, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
It’s a clear challenge. Let us bind him or basically admit that he’s only here to fuck us over. Montrose seethes, his skin flickering with flames. My dragon pants like a dog being teased with a frisbee. “I have a feeling what I want doesn’t really matter in this situation.”
