When Darkness Ends(Guardians of Eternity,book 12)(7) by Alexandra Ivy
“You can shove that ‘Your Majesty’ up your ass,” Styx growled.
His people knew just how badly he hated any symbol of authority. Well, except for his big-assed sword that could cut through an ogre with one swipe.
The one sure way to grate on his nerves was to call him by some stupid title.
Viper’s smile widened. “Fine. What do you need from me then?”
“Nectar?” The clan chief waited for the punch line. When Styx merely studied him with growing impatience, he gave a shake of his head. “What kind of nectar?”
“How the hell should I know?” Styx made a sound of disgust. “The stupid prince keeps bleating about some nectar that is essential to his survival.”
“He’ll die without it?” Viper shrugged. “Problem solved.”
Styx shook his head. After a week of enduring Magnus’s moans and groans, he was ready to stake himself.
“Not if I have to listen to him complaining until he finally croaks.” Styx shuddered. “I just want to shut him up.”
Viper moved to stand near the windows that offered a stunning view of the moon-drenched rose garden.
“Understandable. No one likes a whiny fey. But I’m not sure why you called me.” He turned back to send Styx a puzzled frown. “I don’t have any nectar.”
“You have clubs that cater to the fey.”
Styx swallowed a growl of annoyance. Viper was obviously in no mood to be helpful. No doubt it had something to do with being taken away from his beautiful mate.
“And at least one of them must have some damned nectar,” Styx snarled.
Viper pulled his phone from his pocket, accepting that Styx wasn’t going to allow him to leave until he had what he wanted.
“I suppose I could check around.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
With a grimace, the silver-haired vampire began contacting his various managers that ran his chain of demon bars. Styx didn’t doubt at least one of them would have what he needed.
Viper’s clubs were notorious for satisfying the desires of his guests. No matter how outrageous those desires might be.
“Got it,” he at last muttered, glancing at Styx. “Tonya has a fresh batch.”
Thank the gods.
“Tell her to bring it.”
“Now?” Viper scowled, a businessman to his very soul. “The club—”
Viper rolled his eyes. “Bring what you have to the Anasso’s lair,” he commanded the beautiful imp who was in charge of his club a hundred miles south of Chicago. “But don’t try to travel directly into the estate,” he warned. Styx had a layer of barriers wrapped around his home to prevent magic. He had a lethal dislike for unwanted guests popping in. “You’ll have to stop at the edge of the estate and wait for an escort to bring you inside.”
Styx reached behind him to punch a button that opened the intercom to his security team, warning them to expect the imp.
When he turned back, Viper had put away his phone and was adjusting the lacy cuffs of his ridiculous shirt.
“Have you had any word from Cyn?”
Styx felt a familiar stab of frustration. When Roke had informed him that the clan chief of Ireland had disappeared along with the Chatri princess, Styx had assumed that they would turn up within a few hours. There were few women who wouldn’t leap at the chance to spend some time alone with the charming vampire. But as the days, and then weeks passed, the mildly annoying incident had turned into a looming disaster. The Chatri were the ruling class of the fey and if they decided that the vampires had insulted their king, they could make things very unpleasant.
He gave a sharp shake of his head.
“If Cyn has returned to this dimension he’s remaining well hidden.”
Viper shook his head. “I know Cyn. He can be impulsive—”
“He’s a damned maniac,” Styx muttered, recalling the night the clan chief had released a herd of cows in King James’s palace. It’d caused a near riot.
“But he would never kidnap a fairy princess,” Viper insisted.
“Unless she wanted to be kidnapped,” Styx pointed out.
“If that was the case then he wouldn’t remain in hiding. He would confront Sariel head-on, not skulk in the shadows.”
“I agree.” Styx grimaced. “He’s never been subtle.”
“Which means he’s in trouble.”
It was a word that he’d heard too often over the past year.
Was it really too much to ask that he have one damned week without some disaster lurking?
“I have my Ravens searching for him,” he said. “Between them and the fey there’s no rock that will be left unturned. And once I have my hands on whoever is responsible”—his power made the electricity flicker—“there will be hell to pay.”
“Yes, there will be, no matter who is responsible for kidnapping the princess,” a male voice drawled from the doorway.
Styx’s fangs lengthened, aching for the opportunity to drain the idiot who waltzed into the library as if he owned the place.
Prince Magnus was exactly what you would expect of a pure-blooded fey.
His long hair shimmered like the finest rubies in the light from the chandelier. His brow was wide, his nose a thin, noble blade, and his lips lushly carved. And his eyes were the color of cognac and rimmed with gold.
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