He lurched out of the place after an hour. Nothing.
Several watering holes later, Týr stumbled into another tavern. His mood piss-low, he shoved a plastered demon aside and sat down, rubbing his tired eyes. The stares coming his way scorched his psyche.
He ignored them. Most of these assholes would assume he was just another Fallen looking for a place to stay. Some would want to take him on. Usually, he’d welcome the fight, but right then, his mind—his thoughts—centered on one person only. His chest tightened, and he felt as if he’d been clocked in the sternum again at how fast those bastards had taken her.
A demoness in a loose, red dress displaying too much skin, sashayed over, her lusty, dark gaze doing a quick once-over on him. “What’ll it be?”
An open offer. But with her standing so close, Týr’s skin crawled. Bile churned his belly. He struggled not to let the memories clawing his mind pull him back to another time…lust-filled voices and hands slithering all over him.
“Whatever he’s having,” Týr grunted, flicking a thumb to the demon on his right. He didn’t even care what it was, he just wanted her gone.
Demons crowded the dingy bar. The walls behind the counter showcased veins of fire streaking through the surface and lighting the place with a dim glow. Týr lowered his gaze, clasped his hands on the scarred table, and concentrated on the conversations around him. The masses spoke in a demonic dialect he was able to get the gist of, especially considering where he’d spent five centuries. His focus slowly moved through the horde as he picked up bits of convo…and then the wordmortalcaught his attention. In this hellhole, humans were rare.
“…but she’s already taken. Lord Nicor made it known.”
“Just our luck. First, the pretty brunette several months ago—”
“That female is Lord Réomer’s consort,”the demon grunted.“It’s why he killed Móric, for coming after her.”
Týr wished like hell he had Blaéz’s ability to get into these assholes minds to pick up their thoughts, or even Dagan’s power to read images from the damn glasses they touched to get what he wanted, to see if they were talking about Kira. Instead, he had fire. In a place like this.
But deep down, the knowledge stirred…it had to be her.
He ignored the demoness setting his jug on the table. Shit. He had no currency that would work here. Týr listed to his side as if he were sloshed out of his mind. Faster than eyes could track, he stuck his hand into his neighbor’s coat pocket and came up with three small gold nuggets. He dropped one on the table.
With a wide smile, the demoness snatched it and scurried off.
“…But the redhead is quite something.Tall, too…”Týr went dead still.
“You don’t care about your head, do you? They will kill you. Anyways, you have to get inside the fortress first and past those deadly wards. Unless you’re brave enough to stroll in through the front door?”
Jaw set, Týr pushed to his feet. He had his destination.
