Kiss of a Dragon(22)

The disdain on Zephan’s face couldn’t be more clear. “If I wished to send you a message, trust me, you would receive it.”

The fae were such assholes. “Have you lost a demon or two?” Lucian asked. “I killed one last night.”

“Did you? How unfortunate. You could’ve simply turned it back over to me.” Zephan’s apparent disinterest in the topic meant nothing. The fae were cold, calculating, and ambitious… and Zephan, with his facial runes identifying him as part of the Winter Court, was the prototypical example of a ruthless fae who would do or say anything to achieve his aims. Not that the fae could lie—not technically, anyway—but they were master manipulators. Not a word out of their mouths could be trusted, and their code of honor extended only to the exact letter of the law.

Or, in this case, treaty.

“This demon was half human,” Lucian said. “I’ll not be turning such a pitiful creature over to likes ofyou.” He didn’t know what the fae did with their demons—their dark arts brought them into existence, and just like Lucian’s fae runes, they could dispel them as well. They could conjure whatever demons they liked to serve them at court, but sending them out into the mortal world was strictly forbidden by the treaty. Lucian had no love for the predators who existed among the human population, whether demon halflings or not, but the fae took ruthlessness to a level that would shame the darkest human heart. Under no circumstances would he turn over something even half human to them.

Zephan snorted, his disgust thick in the air. “Well, I can’t be accountable for some stray half demon showing up in your little human city. Our treaty clearly states that we will keep demons in abeyance and out of the mortal realm. There is no mention of halflings. I have no responsibility for that whatsoever.”

“How the hell do you think a halfling is made, Zephan?” Leksander asked. In spite of their fae heritage, Lucian had a dragon’s proper level of loathing for the fae; Leksander took his to another level. Lucian sometimes suspected the reason his brother was so drawn to angels, the fae’s natural enemy, was precisely because he loathed the fae within himself.

Zephan waved away Leksander’s accusation. “Who knows what you found roaming the streets of Seattle. That is none of my concern. It could simply be a leftover of some small cell of rogue demons hiding away and making their appearance only now.”

That explanation was so patently ridiculous, Leksander snarled at the insult.

The sound set Zephan’s runes twitching, the magic roiling under his skin. “Or,” he said archly, “the humans and their technology have advanced to the point of creating demons. Perhaps in a test tube. I hear that is a thing now.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. How much did the fae know about the human world? How much did they know about anything? He had often wondered at their ability to know things they couldn’t possibly have access to as if they had some magical spying ability he was unaware of. The fae were far more a mystery than a known quantity.

“Perhaps the Summer Court is involved,” Leksander said, coolly.

Lucian shot him a glance. Those were fighting words. Why was he trying to rile up dissent between the courts? That could only cause trouble for the House of Smoke trying to keep the peace. Besides, Leksander knew the Summer Court didn’t traffic in demons, even in ancient times.

Zephan pulled a face at that insult. Which was a genuine accomplishment on Leksander’s part. “As if the Summer Court could do anything so subtle as conjure a demon that could escape your notice for the better part of three centuries.”

Lucian narrowed his eyes. Was the fae prince bragging now? “What the hell, Zephan? Are you admitting you’re in violation of—”

Zephan’s eyes flashed, and a pulse of magical energy stronger than anything Lucian could generate emanated from the fae—a wave that nearly knocked Leksander from the ledge. “I am in violation of nothing.”

“Fuck, Zephan,” Leksander muttered as he shifted to claws to keep hold of the narrow ledge.

“A little touchy on that subject, are we?” Lucian asked. The fae were never more dangerous than when they were possibly being caught out on something.

“You forget your place, dragon.” But Zephan was regaining his icy fae coolness. “It’s best that you have an occasional reminder.”

Lucian didn’t need a reminder that the fae were far more powerful in magic than dragons could ever dream of commanding. It was the fae blood which ran through his veins that gave him any powers at all, beyond common dragon magic. It was the treaty, and the treaty alone, that kept the fae from running roughshod over the mortal world.