Page 22 of The Demon's Fire
Skyler allowed Juno to latch onto her elbow again, preventing her from tumbling. “Thank you. Protesting what?”
“Your tour, the relationship between Aeternals and humans, cross-mating between breeds, progress. You name it. They call themselves Isolationists. Today, they are peaceful, but they are not always so nowadays.”
They proceeded toward the white structure. Up close, it was impressive, open to the air on four sides. They passed through a single row of colonnades, forming a sort-of marble curtain around the edge of the temple. Skyler angled her head to study several friezes which decorated the facade. One showed an ylve, his long spear taming a bull. Another portrayed a woman drawing an arrow to her bow to kill a centaur-looking creature. Still another depicted nude male and female figures wrapped in an embrace.
When Juno led Skyler and Kole into the interior between the fluted columns capped with fern leaves, more than a hundred ylves awaited them, bowing to the visitors. Most wore diaphanous white robes like Juno, exposing their naked, supple, graceful figures. Three, wearing pale purple, strode forward. Skyler observed nipples, penises, the works, all visible beneath the fluttering gossamer clothing.
Tipping her chin higher, Skyler handled surprise with her usual cool demeanor.
As if he read her mind, Kole grinned, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Transparency is part of the Inimicus Ceremony. The ylves show they bear no ill will toward you. Despite the breed’s calm exterior, they are warlike, known for trickery, having something up their sleeves, so to speak. Their see-through robes make it evident they carry no weapons.”
Skyler’s chest expanded with a deep, deep breath. She released it slowly. “I can see they aren’t armed.” Her brows lifted, her expression icing over while she prepared to greet the ylve dignitaries.
Kole cleared his throat. “Just saying. This is what you requested.”
She hissed in his ear, her business-like smile never wavering. “I know I did.”
Laegon approached, introducing himself. Waist-length black hair and a bedroom smile. His midnight eyes, topped with dark brows, could have given him a brooding look, but full lips made him more sensual than moody. Skyler tried not to stare at the trim, muscular body of the man beneath the transparent purple robe. She failed.
He pointed at the two ylves beside him. “This is Imperial Secretary Thannor. And this is Grand Commandant Caleth, my soulmate.”
With his shoulder-length curly brown hair, a close-trimmed beard, and sparkling green eyes, the handsome Thannor captured Skyler’s hand. When he raised it to his mouth, his kiss tickled like a feather. After he released her, she offered him a brief nod. Again, she tried to direct her gaze everywhere except at his groin. It wasn’t easy since his penis tented his see-through robe.
Caleth was regal, an athletic body, slim hips, long legs, prominent cheekbones, a straight nose, bowed lips, and cat-shaped amber eyes. When she smiled at Skyler, her entire face glowed with an inner light. She twirled until her gown swirled around her bare feet. “As you see, we hide no artifice.” Her laughter rang out, high-pitched, musical, confident. To Skyler, Caleth was an unlikely grand commandant in charge of an ylven army.
Thannor placed a palm low on Skyler’s back to lead her toward the awaiting ylves in the chamber hall. While his hand caressed her, his thigh slid against her hip. Trying to hide her blush when he guided her forward, Skyler glanced over her shoulder to see Kole smirk. Twisting her head around to greet the assembled business and agricultural leaders, she stiffened her spine, lifted her chin. She avoided the touch of the imperial secretary’s thigh, but there was no tactful way to escape his wandering fingers.
The ylve leaned toward her, so close his breath warmed her ear. “May I say, I never expected such a lovely chief legal officer. Now that I know, I might visit Alliance headquarters myself.” He straightened, giving Skyler some relief. “Tell me, you share the same last name of the previous CLO who attended this ceremony. Are you related?”
Skyler’s lips tilted into the smile she reserved for public occasions. “Yes. He was my father.”
“Ah. You are more pleasing.” His voice louder, Thannor announced, “We are honored to be your first stop on Scath. The farmers, vintners, and ranchers you have assisted with trade contracts are here to greet you. They hope to continue profiting from business deals you arrange.” He introduced her to each ylve while Kole chatted with Laegon and Caleth.
****
ThreeAlliance employees were manning the phones in the call center when Braelyn entered. She waved, unslung her purse, and arranged her jacket on the back of a chair at an empty station. She sipped a Frozen Monkey Mocha with multiple shots of espresso from her favorite Seattle coffee shop, setting it on the counter.
Calls had been coming in at regular intervals since her father had published her article about a contest for those who could prove they were witches or warlocks or descended from them. Huge cash prizes went to those with undeniable proof, stating the data was for an upcoming story. She hoped the ruse netted results.
A short-haired, dark-skinned Alliance agent disconnected from her caller, laughing. “The woman is bat shit crazy. She offered to take me flying on her broomstick. I’m tempted to take her up on the deal to see what she comes up with.”
A redheaded agent leaned back in his chair. “I can outdo you one. A man yesterday told me he was trained at the Magic Academy in Ohio. I asked where it was. He said in Dayton. You know what happened when I Googled it?”
He waited for heads to shake. “There really is one. Anyway, he got his degree in physical education. Quidditch is his sport. As the team’s Seeker, he told me he’s an expert on his Nimbus 2000 broomstick. I called the Chicago Alliance office to see what they knew about the place since they’re nearby. They laughed me off the phone. Apparently, they are aware of the guy and the school for crackpots.”
Between listening to workers one-up each other with bizarre phone chats, Braelyn answered nine calls in an hour. As she hung up from number ten, she spotted the redheaded agent waving, frantic for her attention. She hustled over to listen in on the conversation, her ear near the speaker.
“Have you heard of Masoud?” The male caller had a deep, steady voice with an English accent.
“Who?” The agent followed up the caller’s question with one of his own.
“A warlock.”
“Who are you?” Braelyn interrupted, her lips near the mouthpiece.
“I’m not saying unless this offer is legitimate. Let’s not muck around. I’ll be off the phone in two minutes, by the way. I’ve started counting.”
Braelyn shooed the agent out of his chair. “Let me give you my cell number. Then you give me yours. Call me back on my phone when your time’s up.”
