Chapter 21
Týr joggeddown the torch-lit stairwell, wearing a new t-shirt Kira had somehow wrangled for him. The damn thing constricted him around the chest and biceps, but it would have to do. As he neared the fourth-floor landing, Riley pushed away from the wall where he waited. “How is she?”
“Better now.”
The male stared at him for a silent second then nodded and said quietly, “She touched a mystical orb in the study, it’s one that shows the past.”
Yeah, Týr had already figured that out.
Silently, they made their way to the ground floor. Týr appreciated that Riley hadn’t asked any questions. It wasn’t something he ever wanted anyone else to know about.
They stepped out onto the busy courtyard a few minutes later and then dematerialized.
Deep in some gloomy part of Stygia, they reformed. Purple noon skies darkened perceptibly, the air heavy and oppressive. Týr scanned the dingy village, the stench of bile-inducing sulfur harsher here.
“The outskirts of Stygia,” Riley informed him, striding toward a derelict alley with low-roofed, ash-covered buildings. Dull, grimy orbs flickered on some of the dwelling walls, casting an anemic glow over the lane.
A small, hairless creature, with eyes like an abyss, sidled past Týr and snarled, its mouth slitting open like a cavernous pit as the thing bared its fangs. Riley’s hand flashed out, releasing a sizzling bolt that tasered the creature. An ear-splitting screech ricocheted briefly before it vanished.
“If you don’t want to face endless suffering, make sure those things don’t bite you.” Riley shoved open the door into a dimly lit tavern with a wide archway on the far side, leading into another chamber with a glass screen. Two horned, fangy bouncers guarded that entrance.
Naked demons in trios or more could be clearly seen through the doors, engaging in various sex acts. Obviously, the glass panel allowed a free show for the voyeurs seated directly in its path. However, the reek of sex, along with the sounds of groans and whimpers crowded Týr’s head and had his stomach roiling.
He clenched his teeth and had to force himself to move forward. “Where is he?”
“He’ll be here.”
Týr willed the inebriated occupants slumped at the corner table and out of sight of the damn show to leave. As they tottered off, he dropped down onto a chair, his back to the wall, and kept his focus on the packed place, locking out the sights and sounds of the drunks cheering on the sex show.
Riley took the seat adjacent to him.
Drinks were ordered and served a few minutes later, but both goblets remained untouched as they waited. Minutes ticked by… Týr wrapped his fingers around the squat pewter cup in front of him and he struggled to shut off the taunting laughter and grunts from another time echoing inside his head.
Fates!He pinched the bridge of his nose and retreated to his safe place. Kira. He recalled her warm smile and let it wrap around him like a hug, remembering the dancing laughter in her eyes when she teased him. The chaos in his mind receded.
“You okay?”
Týr dropped his hand. “Yeah.”
The den doors flew open. He cut a sideways look. A tall male sauntered out, wearing only leather-like black pants and boots, his chest bare. He weaved his way to them, long, raven-black hair swaying past his shoulders. Both eyebrows arching, he flipped around the chair opposite Riley and Týr and straddled the seat. Violet eyes gleamed in an annoyingly striking, but familiar face, one Týr instantly recognized.
“So, you fuck around here now?” he snapped. It took everything in him to be civil to Echo’s former guardian. “Do you even care how she’s doing?”
“Did I leave some forlorn little female hankering after me?” the male smirked. “She wants another taste, eh? She knows where to find me.”
Týr had to rein in his fury and refrain from smashing a fist into his face. Echo having Damon as her guardian sucked. It wasn’t that she needed him, but to her, the ass was family. He, however, had simply cut her out of his life and left. Just as well she has no idea about the shit he engaged in.
“A’Drael?” Riley’s sharp tone ended their deadlock stare.
“Depends,” the male countered. “You have what I want?”
“That’s A’Damiel or Damon.” Týr’s lips lifted in a hard smile. The bastard had more aliases than clothes, and seemed to have gotten personality transplant from the cold fish Týr knew him to be.
“Youcan call me anything you want, but I prefer Dare.” The male smirked.
Teeth gritted, it took everything within Týr not to pop the dick in the face, well aware that he’d set this antagonistic ball rolling. Whatever had turned a taciturn male like Damon into this debauched one in a mere year wasn’t his biz. He just needed the damn info on the missing kids. More, he hated keeping the truth from Kira that Tomas could be here. Knowing her, she’d work herself into a frenzy.
Damon or whatever the hell he was calling himself in this shitpit these days, smirked at him. “No need for the animosity, warrior. To clear your confusion, Damon and I shared the same womb—same time etcetera.” The male waved a finger. “But the colossal scourge has no loyalties to kin, haven’t seen him in ages… Have you?”
