by Cassie Ryan
Amalya closed her eyes and sucked in several deep breaths, welcoming the slow relief that added oxygen brought. When she was sure she wouldn’t faint or slide off the end of the bed without help, she slowly opened her eyes and glanced up at her sister. “Where’s Levi? Is he all right?”
Jez picked up a robe off a nearby chair and wrapped it around Amalya, her expression carefully neutral as she knelt in front of Amalya and took her hand. “He’s alive. Lilith is with him.”
Amalya stiffened and tightened her grip on Jez’s hand. “What does Lilith want with him?”
“I don’t know.”
Amalya tried to stand, but Jez held her in place. “Don’t forget, he knew Lilith before you even met him, so they most likely have unfinished business.”
Amalya gritted her teeth against the vivid images of Levi and Lilith together that flowed through her mind. Most of the time unfinished business with Lilith meant a payment for services rendered—usually in the form of sex. She wasn’t naïve enough to assume Levi’s deal with the queen would be any different.
Besides, no matter what emotions she might have developed for Levi, Amalya knew she still belonged to Lilith, and without Lilith’s permission, she might never see Levi again.
Panic fluttered inside her stomach starting as a group of butterflies and growing into a full-blown colony of bats. She swallowed hard and tried to suck in several breaths to keep the sudden reaction at bay.
She’d let herself believe Levi cared for her, and the thought of him in Lilith’s bed ripped at her. Jealousy burned through her like acid and she fell back on the bed, her legs dangling off the side as her overpowering emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
Three sharp knocks on her door pulled Amalya’s attention back to the present and she struggled to sit up and thread her arms through the armholes of the robe Jez had wrapped around her shoulders. She managed to stand long enough to wrap the thin material around her before she sat down heavily. Even the thin shield of cloth would help her feel more in control at this point. “Come in.”
The door opened and Lilith stood in the doorway just as beautiful as Amalya remembered. She started to slide off the bed to bow before Lilith when the queen stayed her with a quick gesture.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but since we’d also have to pick you up off the floor, maybe that can wait until later.” Lilith walked inside Amalya’s room and motioned for Jez to leave.
Jez cast a quick glance toward Amalya who forced a smile. They were both Lilith’s creatures, and even if Amalya wished Jez would stay, neither of them dared override Lilith’s directive.
Jez slipped quietly from the room and the door made a quiet snick as it closed behind her.
Lilith approached Amalya and held out her hand, which Amalya immediately accepted. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you, my queen.”
When Lilith sat next to Amalya on the bed, the bed dipping slightly under her weight, foreboding curled through Amalya and she snapped her gaze to Lilith’s. Lilith had always been caring in her own way for those under her, but she’d never been one to comfort or coddle.
If her sisters were all alive, then that meant . . .
No! Denial curled through her and she swallowed hard to keep her swirling emotions from escaping in front of Lilith. “Levi?” The one word was all she could manage before her throat closed with tamped down emotions.
“I thanked him for returning you and he left.”
“Left?” Pain and panic filled her, tightening her chest and threatening to crash over her in overwhelming waves. She fisted her hands to try to keep them under control. “Without saying good-bye?” The words came out like an accusation and Amalya winced at her own carelessness.
The queen cared for her subjects but wasn’t known for her patience with disrespect. So Amalya was surprised when Lilith nodded. “Before you think I disallowed it, Levi left of his own free will.”
Amalya stiffened. “Did he receive his payment?” Thankfully her words came out sounding flat and emotionless, although she mentally cursed herself for asking the question at all.
Lilith laughed, the smoky sound filling Amalya’s senses as if it were a separate living entity. “He did not. His payment was no longer needed by the time he fulfilled his side of the bargain.”
Amalya burned to ask for further details but knew better than to test the queen’s patience.
Lilith reached up to her neck to pull a black cord attached to a red amulet with intricate markings off over her head. “The only one who can stop Semiazas is Lucifer. You and your sisters must approach Lucifer and ask for his protection. I wish I could do this for you, but I cannot. All I can do is give you this amulet. Wear it at all times until you and your sisters approach Lucifer and it will give you both some measure of protection and entry into his lair.” Lilith ran her thumb over the mysterious markings before laying the necklace in Amalya’s palm and closing her fingers over it. She stood and turned to go. “I’ll send Jezebeth back to you. Rest and we’ll speak again when you have recovered.”
“Did Levi say where he was going when he left?” Amalya hated both that she’d been unable to keep from asking the question and that her voice sounded so wounded.
Lilith turned back only enough to glance at Amalya over her shoulder. “He only said he was off to find himself.”
Amalya stared up at Lilith feeling as though she’d just been sucker punched. They’d just survived demons, dying, and a slew of other encounters, and Levi was off to fucking find himself?
Was this some late supernatural midlife crisis?
Anger slid through her veins bringing with it solid determination. She was at least thankful this new emotion had chased back all the others that had threatened to make her a crying, swooning idiot.
As soon as the door shut behind Lilith, Amalya stood, testing her balance, and when she could stand with only a tiny wobble she set her jaw. “You arrogant, selfish bastard. Just wait till I find you.”
Levi materialized just outside the gates to Ashford House and stumbled as the unfamiliar sensation left his stomach wrenching and twisting as vertigo slashed through him.
He sucked in large breaths as he tried to calm his stomach and convince it not to empty the contents of the meager breakfast he’d had back at Lilith’s lair.
If dematerialization and rematerialization felt like that every time, he wasn’t sure how the supernaturals stood it on a regular basis. He swore to himself he would avoid a repeat experience at all costs. But he was glad Lilith had made the offer to help him transport anywhere he’d like. It did save time, if not his dignity.
“Your Grace?” A tentative voice from just beside him startled Levi and he glanced up to see a pretty thirtyish woman wearing a business suit, her short bob cut framing a pixie face. She gasped when she saw his face but then regained her composure. “Are you well?”
Levi nodded and swallowed hard as he forced himself to straighten. It wasn’t done for a duke to be seen with any kind of weakness outside his own chambers. He sighed at how easily the rules of this society came back to him. “Yes, very well. Thank you.”
“You should come inside the gates before you attract the attention of the shades, Your Grace.” She gestured toward the fog that had begun to coalesce in the middle of the road that ran in front of Ashford House.
Levi shuddered as he remembered his recent experiences with the shades. He definitely didn’t relish a third time, especially since he’d run out of free passes to the other side. “Probably a good idea.” He gestured for her to precede him.
She eyed him warily as they approached the gates together and the guards quickly waved them both through. Apparently, even though he hadn’t been here in the last two hundred years, his mother had ensured the entire staff knew him. He couldn’t really complain since it made getting inside that much easier.
As the gates clanged closed behind him, he noticed a buildup of shiny crystals clinging to the black wrought iron bars and stepped forward
to trace his finger over the bumpy surface.
Salt.
“Pardon me, Your Grace, but if you’ll stand clear, we need to chase back the shades before they try to cross through the gates.”
Levi stepped back and two of the guards armed with power sprayers stood side by side, aiming the nozzles of the sprayers toward the shades.
When the strong spray of water hit the gauzy figures, they shied away, undulating as if displeased, but kept their distance.
“Kosher salt and holy water?”
“No sir. The duchess ordered only kosher salt to spray the shades and also to be sprinkled along every edge of the property except her private entrance.”
Levi nearly laughed. Of course she wouldn’t lock herself in or out of the grounds by allowing the use of holy water. “How are the shades kept from breaching her private entrance?”
“There’s a guard there at all times, Your Grace. I’m not privy to their techniques to guard that gate, however.”
Levi smiled and nodded. He wondered how many of the staff knew his mother was a demon, and if they cared. Most likely they’d be loyal to Lucifer himself if he held a proper title. Levi shook his head at the traditions he’d grown up with seen in a new and different light. “Good job. Carry on,” he told the guards who practically beamed with pride at the small compliment. That fact alone assured Levi that his mother treated the staff as she always had. She paid them extremely well for their loyalty and their service, but the only further compliment they would ever receive was their continued employment.
Levi bit back the surge of guilt as he realized he’d treated them all much the same during his tenure living here as the duke. Amalya’s description of him as an arrogant ass was proving itself a bit too apt for his comfort.
He strode across the expansive front garden missing Amalya. Sadness and longing squeezed his heart and he quickened his steps, eager to be done with this errand and get back to her.
Levi glanced up at the imposing gray brick facade of Ashford House as thousands of memories assaulted him both welcome and not. Somehow the house seemed less imposing and suffocating than when he’d left so long ago. He wondered if that was purely from so much time having passed or from all the new truths he’d learned about his life.
Either way, he was here and needed to figure out who he was and who he wanted to be going forward. His mother wouldn’t be happy that he hadn’t come home to fall in with her plans, but he hoped she could shed some light on the truths he’d heard about his past.
He navigated the several steps up to the front porch, rang the bell, and waited, wondering what type of reception he would receive. After all, he hadn’t stood in this spot for two hundred years.
If his mother used human staff, he’d be long forgotten by now—although knowing his mother she’d found a way around that.
Maintaining appearances was too important to her.
When the large double doors opened, the ancient-looking butler showed only a split second of surprise before his face returned to an inscrutable mask. “Your Grace.” He opened the door wide allowing Levi to step inside.
Levi smiled as his assumptions about his mother proved true.
He tried not to crane his neck to take in all the changes that modernization had brought to Ashford House. Many of the priceless antiques and statues still stood in the same places he remembered from his time here, but there were new treasures as well.
At least his mother had impeccable taste.
“Is my mother at home?”
“The duchess is in the drawing room with some guests, Your Grace.” The man was definitely human and stood stiff, staring straight ahead and not examining his long-lost employer. At least not openly. Some things here never changed.
Levi started forward and then stopped. “What’s your name?” “Your mother calls me Jenkins, Your Grace.”
Levi laughed and turned back to face the man. From the time he was a small boy all their butlers had been called Jenkins, purely because his mother didn’t want to have to bother to remember their names. That particular practice was a definite throwback to the heyday of noble families here in England. “What’s your actual name?”
“Ian Simms, Your Grace.”
“Do you prefer Ian or Simms?”
A horrified expression crossed the butler’s staid expression. Levi wasn’t sure if the man was worried about facing his mother’s wrath or the impropriety of the long-lost Duke of Ashford using his first name.
“How about we split the difference and go with Simms?”
When the man’s wrinkled face relaxed, Levi nodded, the matter settled. “All right, Simms. Are my old rooms still mine? Or has my mother redistributed them for her use?”
The man stiffened as if the question had been an insult to his skills. “Of course your rooms are still yours and reserved solely for your use, Your Grace. Your wardrobe has been periodically updated so all would be ready for you if you ever had need of them.”
“Perfect.” He grinned. “Please don’t tell my mother I’m here. I’d like to freshen up a bit, change, and then surprise her.”
Simms looked dubious, as if torn between loyalty to the woman he had to deal with on a daily basis, and the man who actually owned the house and grounds and held the official title.
“I’ll tell her I ordered your silence.” He grinned when Simms frowned. “Don’t worry, Simms. She’ll be thrilled I did something so worthy of a duke as bullying a servant.”
He took the steps of the grand staircase two at a time, a habit he’d never quite broken and one that he was sure his mother still hated. Apparently, it wasn’t regal enough for a duke. Which, of course, gave him even less incentive to break the habit.
A quick right turn at the top of the staircase and he followed the hall to the end where he found the large door to the ducal suite.
He opened the door to his room and was surprised to find it almost exactly as he’d left it. The bedspread and wallpaper had been updated to a more modern pattern, but the same royal blue color scheme he remembered ran throughout and the same pictures sat on the bedside cabinet and chest of drawers as the last time he’d left this room.
He walked inside slowly, trying to ignore the sensation that he was trespassing. The room around him was both familiar and foreign—a relic from times gone by. He picked up a picture that sat on the cabinet next to the bed and studied it. It was a drawing of a woman.
“Amalya.”
He sucked in a breath of surprise as memories flooded back and he sat down hard on the bed as he continued to stare at her image.
He’d drawn this picture from memory. She’d captured his imagination even though he’d only seen her once, and he’d spent several months looking for her before he’d left Ashford House for good.
Why hadn’t he remembered her when he’d seen her at Sinner’s Redemption? He shook his head with a small laugh. Did Lilith somehow know of their tenuous connection? Was that why he was assigned to Amalya instead of one of the other three sisters?
All those years ago, Amalya had been leaving a storefront and he’d been drawn by her grace and assurance as she crossed the street and was handed into an unmarked carriage. The memory was so vivid he could remember exactly what she’d worn, the smell of meat pies in the air from a passing vendor, and even the quick flash of her pale ankle he’d seen as she stepped up into the carriage and disappeared from view.
She was lovely, her hair elaborately twisted on top of her head in the style of the day, her expression teasing and welcoming just as it had been when they’d made love just before the graveyard and the shades.
He very much wanted Amalya to be a part of his future, and apparently without him knowing it, she was also a tiny piece of his past.
He set the picture back where he’d found it, and ignoring the other mementos that lay neatly placed around the room, he went to the wardrobe, happy to find fully modern clothes rather than those he’d left behind so long ago. Just next to the wardrobe was
a door that had been added since he’d been here last. A quick investigation revealed a modern loo complete with a shower.
“Thank you, Mother. This is one change I wholeheartedly approve of.”
Levi stripped quickly, glad to leave the remnants of his ruined suit and shoes for the valet to deal with. Something told him his mother had kept a valet employed just for him all these years. The poor man was either ecstatic with his lack of any real duties or bored beyond belief.
Levi showered quickly, availing himself of the razor and shaving cream he found tucked into the recesses in the custom marble walls of the shower. When he finished, he pulled fresh silk boxers from the chest of drawers, choosing not to dwell on how his mother knew what type of undergarments he now wore. After all, when he’d lived here last, men had worn smallclothes.
After pulling on socks, he chose a navy pin-striped suit from the wardrobe and dressed quickly, thankful men’s attire no longer included a starched neckcloth. When he was finished, he studied his image in the full-length mirror and decided he was presentable enough to keep from mortifying his mother and her company.
Not that he’d ever worried much about that, but if he hoped to get her to talk to him, he needed to make some concessions—especially since once she found out he still refused to bow to her wishes, she would loose her anger and he would lose his chance to find out anything from her.
He stopped to tuck Amalya’s picture inside his breast pocket and then stooped to pull open the bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet. He pulled the drawer all the way out and set it aside, ignoring the assortment of letters and other things he’d deemed worthy of keeping so long ago. Once the drawer was removed, he opened the compartment below and reached inside. When his fingers closed over a small box, he smiled, pulled it out, and slipped it inside his pocket. If his mother had found it, the box wouldn’t have remained here all these years.