Page 45 of A Fury Of Shadows

Vedran stood unmoving for a moment. His frowning gaze swung to Nikolai. He fixed his second son with a long stare before whirling around and striding past Barquiel.

“Let’s go,” he ordered curtly.

Barquiel followed him reluctantly. He knew that look. His worst fears were realized when Vedran headed into the bowels of the castle.

“It’s not ready yet,” the demon protested as they descended a flight of stairs.

“It’s ready when I say it’s ready.” Vedran shot him an irate look. “What are you so afraid of?”

That you’ll mess this up.

Barquiel swallowed the bitter words threatening to spill past his lips.

“That you will ruin your chance of getting your hands on that which you seek,” he said instead.

“How nice of you to care.” Vedran’s tone turned mocking. “Why, you almost sound like you cherish me, demon.”

Barquiel fisted his hands.

There was only one reason he had served Davor and all the Sorcerer Kings who had come after him. He took a deep breath, quelled his rage, and focused on the goal that had been his since the aftermath of the war where he had vanquished Azazel.

Just a little bit more. Then I’ll be able to bring you back.

CHAPTER17

A door appearedat the end of the seemingly endless flights of stairs and winding corridors. It was clad in iron and steel and reinforced with enough protective spells and demonic energy to repel an entire army.

“It would be nice if Dietrich could work in an airy tower full of light one of these days,” Vedran muttered as they approached it. “Must he always skulk in dark corners?”

Since Barquiel usually rifted to this place, he’d never particularly paid attention to the ambiance. “You know he lives in fear of the Immortals ever catching a whiff of his scent.”

Vedran furrowed his brow. “Once we rule the world of man, we’ll have to do something about those Immortals.”

Barquiel didn’t respond to this. Partly because he had no interest in that plan, but mostly because Vedran was insane if he thought he could take on the Immortal race.

The Immortals weren’t powerful just because of their ability to survive death. They possessed gifts on par with the magic Azazel had passed on to mankind. Gifts bestowed upon them by one of Heaven’s oldest and most powerful warriors.

The acrid stench of sulfur and the nefarious chemicals Dietrich usually worked with washed over them when Vedran opened the door to the lab. The Sorcerer King grimaced. He erected a thin barrier of black magic around himself to repel the toxic fumes and crossed the threshold.

The chamber they entered would have been ice cold and dark if not for the furnaces that Dietrich kept burning at all times. The Immortal alchemist didn’t react to their presence. He was working on something at the far end of the chamber, too focused on his task to pay heed to anything else.

Barquiel’s heart sank. An erratic, dark light outlined Dietrich’s silhouette in the golden glow of the fires.

Dammit. Is that what I think it is?!

Vedran’s eyes flared. His steps quickened, only to falter when he caught sight of the corpses dotting the ground.

His lips pressed together. “You should tidy this place up. We didn’t lend you those demons for decoration.”

The fiends feasting on the remains of Dietrich’s victims shrank back into the shadows at the sight of Barquiel, gristle and blood dripping from deformed jaws and talons.

The Immortal flinched and whirled around at the sound of Vedran’s voice. His eyes rounded.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Dietrich cut his eyes to Barquiel before giving the Sorcerer King a flustered look. “I didn’t know you were coming to visit.”

Vedran lowered his brows. “Do I need permission to go somewhere in my own castle?”

“I—” Dietrich hesitated and shook his head, “no, of course not.”

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