The keep itself contained state-of-the-art living quarters for those who dwelled within it, but there was no need for embattlements or thick concrete walls, like the original thousands-year-old keep into which Leksander and Leonidas and Lucian had been born, five centuries ago in the heart of France, not far from Paris. Back then, demon hauntings were much more frequent. Although the treaty was in place, the remnants of the pre-treaty times lingered in the form of creatures who still haunted the dank forests and countrysides of that time. The judicious use of slayers—angel hybrids bred specifically for the purpose of hunting demons—over time had all but eradicated the demon population among humans. Occasionally, in the far untouched reaches of the planet, a demon might yet live. But humanity had expanded at a great unfolding rate, their population swelling to fill the planet’s landmasses. There were few realms that were untouched by human feet in the mortal world. And demons had in turn been driven out.
So this resurgence of demons in a metropolitan city like Seattle… it was practically unheard of in modern times. And troubling.
The keep wasn’t hardened against demon hordes. When they’d relocated a hundred years ago to the remote, at that time, mountains outside Seattle, it no longer needed the stalwart, stone-walled construction. Since then, they’d refreshed the keep every few years with the latest, greatest, and most opulent treasure that could be acquired by human technology or magical means. As for protection, the king and queen were no fools—they used wards to keep out any immortals who were not expressly invited.
And Zephan, reigning prince of the Winter Court, would never be one of those.
Lucian and Leksander both shifted and rose through the portal that opened in the ceiling. The sun was still bright, reminding Lucian of the sweet agony of the ride he had given Arabella around his home. He flew hard to drive those thoughts away, keeping pace with Leksander as they winged their way toward a very specific rocky ledge carved into the mountains surrounding the keep. The ledge served as a calling station for anyone who wished to pay a visit—fae, angels, dragons of another House, or any creature of the immortal realm. It was just outside the perimeter warning system, serving as the front door for the keep at several miles away. With his dragon’s eyes, Lucian could easily see Zephan’s slender form pacing the narrow, rocky lip of the station.
A smile stretched Lucian’s lips. He took pleasure in making the dark fae wait. As soon as Zephan caught sight of them, he stopped pacing and held rigidly still. Lucian and Leksander glided to alight at the very edge, as far from the fae prince as they could be while still standing on the ledge. The fae race generally traveled through magical doors—portals through which they manipulated space, squeezing it to nothing between two spots on the planet—but the treaty had exacting standards that pointed out how close to the keep the portal could reside. This shelf of rock was within feet of that treaty-defined perimeter. The fae were nothing if not precise in fulfilling the terms of a contract.
Zephan glared at them with ice clear eyes that had only a hint of blue. He acted as though Leksander and Lucian were causing him some horrible inconvenience, but he still possessed the cool demeanor typical of the Winter Court. He and his brother folded their wings and shifted to human. The runes on Zephan’s face writhed with the nearness of his dragon foes, especially the Summer Court blood that Lucian and Leksander carried. Zephan’s long dark hair lifted slightly in the breeze, providing a strangely soft contrast to the sharp features of his face. And there were those damned pointed ears, reminding Lucian that the fae, while appearing human, were nothing of the sort.
“How is the Winter Court?” Lucian asked him. “You needn’t travel all this way to say hello—a simple email would do.” The treaty didn’t keep the fae separate from the mortal world—strictly speaking, it only required non-interference—so if a fae wished to don glamour and masquerade as human, nothing would prevent it. They merely were prohibited from killing humans or otherwise interfering with the natural progression of their lives. Lucian had his own reasons for keeping separate from humans most of the time, but he meant what he said to Arabella about being a guardian. His whole purpose in life was essentially to protect humanity. Perhaps originally, the treaty was born of the need to protect human stock for procreation with dragons, to perpetuate of the species, but every dragon loved humanity in a way that was more literal for some—like Leonidas—and more altruistic for others. Leksander loved them from afar. Lucian felt the inherent need to protect them. But the fae—they prided themselves on their separation from the mortal world. And their loathing for it.