Page 102 of The Last Slayer
We turned a corner, and I looked around, checking for mirrors and potential witnesses.
There was nothing.
Alexandros was just starting to say something as we passed a small statuary nook. I took a firmer hold on his arm and shoved him into it, hard. He grunted as his back hit the stone wall, and the statuette he displaced landed on the floor with a loud thud. He didn’t resist much, but I wished he had. I would’ve loved to break his nose. Ruin his too-handsome face.
I pushed a forearm against his neck, my hand grabbing his shirt. “Who was it?”
“Who was what?” He frowned as if he was confused, but a glint in his eye gave him away.
I applied a bit more pressure. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I can’t tell you. Not until you prove yourself worthy of such knowledge.”
“Worthy, huh?” I held my other hand out and my sword appeared in it. “You may be older than dirt, but this blade will kill you.”
“Ah, but if you kill me, you will never find out.” He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, and put a hand over mine. The skin-to-skin touch startled me. My grip on the sword tightened.
Suddenly he pushed me away with unexpected strength, and I stumbled backward. We faced each other, me with my blade and him with nothing.
He straightened his shirt. “Kill me if you like, but know that you’ll face the wrath of all the world’s incubi in addition to the dragonlords who are after you. We may not be as powerful as demigods, my dear, but we breed much more quickly.”
“Don’t think so. They’ll thank me for getting rid of someone as insufferable as you.”
He shrugged. “Possibly.”
Confident bastard. But why shouldn’t he be? Even though I wanted to skewer him, I couldn’t. Spilling his blood in Besade, where he and I were guests, would place a death obligation on me.
“Ashera, history is replete with what your generation calls ‘losers.’ I didn’t survive this long by siding with them. Tell you what.” Alexandros leaned closer, well within the compass of my sword, and winked conspiratorially. “You claim your dragonhold, and I’ll hold a feast in your honor. Then we’ll talk some more.”
While he was close he brushed my cheek with his lips, making me flinch. “Your room’s down the hall,” he murmured…and walked away, laughing as he went. It left a bitter taste, and I wiped the kiss violently from my cheek. Bloody insufferable demon bastard.
I walked down the hall and shoved the door to my room open.
Ramiel was lounging on the couch. I guess he’d skipped dessert.
He stood. “At last you arrive.”
“Excuse me, this is my room.”
“They are all my rooms.”
Pissing contest. Typical. “Didn’t you trust Alexandros to see me here safe and sound? After all, it was your idea to invite him here, to have him be my potential ally.”
Ramiel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I was more worried about his safety than yours. I would advise you to relinquish the memory of your dead boyfriend.”
“Why?”
“It’s been years, for one.”
“Oh, and how many hundreds of years have you been holding a grudge against Nahemah? And how about this famous vow of yours? Hasn’t that been years as well?”
“Entirely different.”
“Of course it is. Whatever suits you is different, isn’t it?”
He took a step forward. “Ashera—”
“No.” I put a hand between us. “You listen. You’ve done everything in your power to manipulate me, including lying about Valerie’s condition, and I’m not going to sit here and pretend that everything’s all right—”
