Page 25 of A Bond in Flames

There was a glossy black tower, thin and tall. A beacon of pale light glowed from the top, aimed out to the furious black ocean, like a demonic lighthouse. “Does anyone live there?”

“Yes.”

“Will we be welcome?”

“No, but they will let us in,” he said and started for the tower.

CHAPTER8

Zinnia

Death bangedon the black wooden door.

This place seriously gave me the creeps.

Heavy footsteps, slow and ominous, came from behind it, and I had visions of Frankenstein’s monster standing on the other side. I wasn’t ashamed to say that when the door slowly creaked its way open, I stepped a little behind Death.

A short male with long, wispy gray hair that reached his waist and gray skin only a shade darker stood there, scowling at us. “My lord,” he said with distaste.

“We require a room for the night, Horace.”

His beady red gaze sliced to me, then back to Death. “But of course.” Then he disappeared back inside, and we followed.

Horace wasn’t a breed of demon I’d ever seen, but every instinct in me said that’s what he was. His feet were disproportionately large to his body. His legs were strong and muscled, but his body was wiry and misshapen. His features were somewhat humanoid but bulbous and exaggerated in a way that gave him away, and of course, there were those red eyes.

“He doesn’t seem happy to see you,” I said to Death under my breath. “Will he rat us out?”

“He can’t, at least in theory. This tower is supposed to be a sanctuary, a safe place for travelers to rest before sailing the Night Sea.”

I spun to Death as Horace stepped behind a small reception desk and grabbed a key from the wall. He handed it over. “Do you require a repast, my lord?”

“We do,” he said.

No, thanks. Whatever this guy was serving, I wasn’t eating. Of course, with Death’s powers basically out of commission, there would be no pulling a five-star meal out of thin air.

“I’d also like to hire a ship for our passage tomorrow,” Death said.

“We’re going in that ocean?” I asked, unable to bite back my horror.

“Yes.” He pulled two gold coins from his pocket and handed them to Horace. “I want your best.” He took out another coin and held it up. “And I want provisions, enough for two days, and the ship better be seaworthy, and the crew trustworthy, demon, or I will come back here, no matter how long it takes me, and I will torture you, flay the skin from your flesh and the meat from your bones, and I won’t stop until you are ash. Do you understand?” Horace grabbed for the coin, and Death pulled it out of reach. “Do you understand?” he said again, his earth-shattering voice making Horace wince.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Do notof courseme. I know your tricks. I’ve been on the receiving end of them more than once, and I know that despite your post here, you are my mother’s lapdog. That will not save you if you fuck with me or my consort.” Then Death tossed the extra coin at the demon, snatched the key from the desk, and strode toward the stairs.

Horace’s red gaze was burning with fury when it slid to me. I quickly spun away and rushed after Death.

He took the stairs two at a time, obviously angry as hell.

“You’ve had some issues with Horace before, then?”

His lips curled back. “You could say that.”

“What kind of issues? Not like ship stuff, right?”

“Yes, ship stuff. It ended up at the bottom of the ocean.”

Fuck.

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