“To think I almost left you for dead,” Mammon rasped.
Belpheg let out a smooth laugh as the memories washed over him. “I recall.”
How could he ever forget the night when, at the young age of twelve, he’d woken to see his clan’s valley ablaze? His entire family was consumed by the supernatural fire. It had only been a stroke of good fortune that had saved him, that had allowed him to retrieve some of the clan’s scrolls. Even more fortunate that Mammon had been there, spying on the Council’s heinous acts. Belpheg had run into the demon hiding beyond the tree line, had talked him into saving him. He remembered that last view of his valley as if it were yesterday.
Belpheg swiveled his head to take one last look at the robed figure on the ridge—the man who’d managed to use subterfuge to do the impossible—disarm his entire clan. “Who are they? Who is he?”
“They’re Council employees, and he is Faelan’s Grand Councilman,” said Mammon.
Bitter tears choked Belpheg’s vision. “Why? Why would they do this?”
“Because, dear boy, you and your clan…you were far too powerful to live.”
Belpheg blinked, forcing the remnants of old, painful memories back into the recesses of his mind. But the anger still burned at him, calling for revenge. His clan had been destroyed simply because the Council had seen them as a threat. Men, women, and children, all wiped from existence.
Now, in retribution, Belpheg would show them just how dangerous he could really be.
“If you hadn’t saved me that night and smuggled me to a safe hideaway,” he said to Mammon, “who knows where I would be right now?”
“It was a big risk, hiding you away.” A shadow of a smile crossed Mammon’s face. “But somehow I had a feeling it was a decision I wouldn’t regret.”
“And so…here were are.” Belpheg inclined his head.
“I got the idea to breed sons of different races from you, you know.”
“Really?” Belpheg made his way to the chair that had been set across from Mammon’s, pausing only to caress the scrolls on the pedestal, absorbing a much-needed trace of their energy. “How so?”
“It was meeting you and catching a glimpse of your power that gave me the idea of crossbreeding for strength. Sadly your clan—the most powerful I’ve ever seen—had already been decimated, but I found some success among other clans and species.”
“Until your sons turned on you.”
Mammon’s mouth tightened at Belpheg’s reminder of his sons’ betrayal, and Belpheg gave an inward laugh. It was the very subject of Mammon’s sons that he wanted to discuss. He’d thought up an interesting way to keep Mammon in line, to impress upon him his power.
“Never worry, they’ll be paying for their sins soon enough. But first, I have a surprise for you, Mammon.”
When Mammon cocked one thick brow, Belpheg continued. “Unlike your traitorous sons, I found someone who is, in fact, excited to see you. I thought it would only be fitting that he join us in our quest.”
Stifling a laugh at the wariness that popped into Mammon’s eyes, Belpheg slightly raised his voice so that the vampire he knew lounged right outside the door could hear. “Come on in, Rage.”
The vampire sauntered in, looking every bit like one of Earth’s rock stars in his black leather pants and fitted black T-shirt. With great pleasure, Belpheg watched the confusion on Mammon’s face morph into slack-jawed astonishment as he took in the features of the vampire who had just joined them. The dark hair that hung almost to his shoulders had been carelessly tied behind his neck, showcasing the earring he wore in one ear and the stud decorating his right brow. Several days’ growth of stubble marked straight, angular features that Belpheg had, upon first sight, found eerily familiar. The vampire’s burning topaz eyes—eyes that weren’t quite right, that weren’t 100 percent sane—studied Mammon with reckless amusement.
With the two men in the same room, it was impossible to miss the resemblance. From the expression on his face, Mammon was clearly of the same accord.
“Figured it out, I see,” Belpheg said gently.
The vampire, clearly enjoying the moment just as much as Belpheg was, gave Mammon a feral grin that showcased his sharp, white canines. “Hello…Dad.”
Chapter Eleven
Ronin was back in his apartment, where he and Amara had headed after their meeting with Keegan. With Keegan and Brynn upstairs making preparations for their move, and Amara busy packing in the bedroom, he was free to pace throughout their living room—and worry.