Damien. Jacquelyn Frank
to battle or kill one another—though, being basically immortal, there was very little about the death of any member of either of their species that could be considered natural.
Usually it came down to some form of homicide. In that culture, however, it was unlikely a Demon would be elected King who had just murdered their predecessor. Demons took great affront to the murder of their monarchs.
Noah could also never be voted out of his office. Though the Great Council had elected him, they could not change their minds. His death would be the only way they could replace him with a successor. In less civilized times that had made it a very interesting prospect to be the King of Demons. Especially if the Great Council decided they had made a mistake and tried to assassinate the reigning monarch.
Then again, no Nightwalker race could ever be completely civilized. That was one of Damien’s firmer beliefs.
“So what is your business?” Damien asked, indicating with that same ringed hand that the King should walk beside him. They were in a quaint little development in the San Jose suburbs, the rows of houses on either side of them sitting quiet and dark, set back from perfectly manicured lawns and neat little sidewalks.
“The Library.”
Again, he cut right to the point of it. Damien liked that about Demons. They did not play social games, unless it suited some extraordinary purpose.
“Yes. The Library. I have not forgotten,” the Prince said. “What is it you would like?”
“Scholars from your society, to be blunt. We have no intention of keeping the mysteries of this hidden Nightwalker Library to ourselves. It is clearly a universal collection of many Nightwalker histories. We have not reentered the place since our initial discovery of it in the caverns in Lycanthrope territory. Neither have any of Siena’s people,” Noah said, smiling slightly when he mentioned the name of the Lycanthrope Queen who had recently wed the commander of his own armed forces. Elijah, the Captain of the Demon warriors, was clearly looked on fondly by his ruler.
“We…that is, Siena and I decided it would only be fair to invite you to join us when we send our scholars in to begin to research what the significance of this place is. Since none of us have ever seen its like before and it is obviously compiled of the languages of all the Nightwalker species, all Nightwalkers should have a fair chance of having a crack at it. On equal terms.”
“That is very fair of you. But I do not think I need to tell you that my people are not the scholarly type. Outside of our immediate political structure and my rather compact court, we are a nation of tribes. We run in small, independent packs, worry mostly about feeding, avoiding human hunters, and”—Damien gave Noah a feral grin—“seeking out sensuality. If we cannot consume it, kill it, or party with it, it does not interest us.”
Noah laughed at that. That basically described almost every Nightwalker race there was. However, the Demon King knew that the Vampires were the epitome of that particular stereotype. Vampiric boredom was a frightening thing to behold. A Vampire tended to cause a great deal of upheaval when not distracted or amused. Still, Damien had his own way of policing his species. It did not get too far out of hand in this day and age, as it sometimes had in the past.
Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that Damien had matured and had stopped leading his people into the fray.
“If I send anyone to you who is interested,” Damien said slowly, “they will no doubt have ulterior personal motives. Perhaps looking at this strange Library as a means of gaining power. There is nothing a Vampire enjoys more than gaining power. If I send someone who is not interested, the place will no doubt become a Vampire hangout until it loses its charm. They would only get in your way. No, it is best if we get any pertinent information from you and yours. Demon and Lycanthrope scholars are the best for this sort of task.”
“I figured you would say that, but I thought I should ask in any event. I am surprised that you are showing no personal interest.”
“On the contrary,” Damien contradicted. “I am eaten up with curiosity. A joint Library with books in languages from so many of the Nightwalker species has intriguing implications. The one I find most curious is how we all managed to get in the same room long enough to even think of constructing such a place, never mind filling it as full as it was when we first saw it. It hints at curious histories so long past that even we who are so long-lived do not recall their origins. It flirts with the idea that we Nightwalkers may have more common origins than we would ever have suspected. It also opens the potential of pissing off a few of the elitist purists all of our races seem to have, arrogant, prejudiced bastards that we are. It is bound to cause trouble.”
“And I know how much you enjoy trouble,” Noah remarked wryly.
“I admit it, I do.” Damien chuckled. “I am certain I will be seen snooping around your workers from time to time. Otherwise, I will instruct Horatio to attend your meetings and recaps of your discoveries. He will report back to me.”
“Horatio?” This time Noah laughed. “Now there is an unlikely student. Diplomats make poor scholars. Sometimes history and recorded data is too factual for them. Too biased. They prefer to give too much the benefit of the doubt. Everything would be propaganda to Horatio.”
“Just the same, he is already a fixture of your court. That will make it easier. There is also Kelsey. She is taking in the delights of Siena’s court at the moment. Between them both and my occasional check-ins, I imagine I will get a fashionable form of the truth of the goings-on.”
“Very well,” Noah conceded. “But let me know if you change your mind.”
“I rarely do.”
“I realize this,” Noah said. The other man stopped walking and they reached to shake hands once again. “Thank you for your time, Damien. I hope you will come to the naming celebration?”
“When is your sister due to give birth?”
“Within another month or two. Normally a Demon female would go a full thirteen months to term, but Gideon feels his son is very eager to make an appearance. Between that and Magdelegna’s strong desire to finish this pregnancy, I have no doubt I will be an uncle again very shortly.”
“Wish her well for me. I look forward to Horatio’s news of the birth.”
Noah gave him a nod, stepped back, and in a heartbeat became a twisting column of smoke that stayed in the shape of the tall, broad-shouldered man for several seconds before stretching out to the sky where it was lost to the night.
Damien followed the Demon King’s retreat with his other senses for a moment before he turned his attention back to the task of seeking his supper.
Syreena hit the ground with a loud grunt, the impact of her body and the hard exhalation of her breath kicking up a cloud of dust that, upon her next breath, promptly entered her lungs. She coughed, spat blood from her mouth, and then twisted up onto her hands in order to glare at the person who had hit her.
Actually, she should say persons.
They were The Three.
And she had crossed them badly.
“Get up, child,” the central robed figure commanded her.
She did so, drawing her slim legs beneath herself so she could push off from the dirt floor. She tossed back her hair, the two-toned tangles mixing iron gray and soft brown together for a moment before parting into uniform-colored sheets on either side of her head. They parted perfectly into a straight fall on one side and a feathered softness on the other. Her eyes flashed with anger. They were also one gray and one brown; however, they had the disconcerting position of being on the opposing sides of the hair color that would match them. The harlequin effect was always eerie, but in outrage it was downright disturbing.
“I am not a child,” she snapped at them, defying the fear of The Three that had been instilled in her from a young age. “I will not apologize for my actions now or ever, even if you beat me to a pulp. So you may as well reconcile yourself