Demon's Revenge (High Demon #5)

"You have to stop letting people take advantage like that." Ry held my face in his hands for just a moment.

"Yeah. But that's not likely to happen anytime soon, is it?" I walked away from him. He'd taken the bed closest to the door, so I went to flop on mine, wishing I'd taken a second bottle of wine from Dee's. Yes, the restaurant was named after Dee, Teeg's surrogate father and right-hand vampire. He'd bought the business for me, initially, with Teeg's money, but all the profits went back into the business, according to the books I saw. I seldom saw any of the money, and what I did see usually went to help the disabled on Kifirin. I worried whether they'd have proper care, now. Slapping a hand over my eyes, I moaned softly over how my life had gotten so complicated.

"Stop worrying about it," Ry said softly. "Get into your pajamas, Reah, and go to sleep. Dinner was incredible, by the way. It would have been the best ever, if we hadn't had Ilvan and Radolf to contend with."

"Ry, don't let them upset you. We'll just pretend they weren't there." I heaved myself off the bed and went to find my pajamas.

"I want to see Reah."

"Tory, I don't think that's a good idea, right now. Besides, she's working an assignment for Lendill."

"I have to see her. Soon. How will she know I want her back?"

"This is going to take time." Lissa brushed hair back from T0"> back fory's forehead. They were sitting in a nearly-dark kitchen, eating ice cream from Niff's.

"How much time, Mom? I don't think I can wait very long. It feels like years since we—you know."

"Honey, I'm sure it feels the same to Reah, too, and that's not a good thing. You know Wylend didn't give you the whole conversation, don't you? He wasn't being completely truthful when he came to you. He regrets that now, because Reah hasn't spoken to him for a very long time, either. Not really. And she renounced her Karathian citizenship."

"Yeah. Ry told me." Tory dropped his spoon into the empty ice-cream dish. "How could he do this—Em-pah Wylend, I mean? He could have broken Reah and me up forever. Looks like he broke Reah up with him forever."

"He did, honey. She won't ever go back to him. I think that's pretty much a given. Corolan has been heartbroken over it. He won't come around her because he doesn't want to be rejected."

"What about Em-pah Wylend? Is he heartbroken?"

Lissa sighed at her son's question. "Hon, I can't answer that. It doesn’t look like he's debilitated or anything."

"I made a mistake, Mom. Darletta was the worst kind of mistake. She was pretty and she turned my head. Reah is beautiful. Darletta thinks she is, but there's so much ugly inside her."

"Torevik, there's no comparison between the two."

"Yeah. I know that now. When will I see my two babies?"

"That may take a little while. They don't know you, so we need to take it slow on that, all right? Give us a little time to prepare all of you. This is a big adjustment. Are you ready to be a father? Do you want to be? You have to prepare yourself for that."

"That's what upset Reah to begin with. I wasn't ready. I realize that now. But I'm getting there. I think I wouldn't mind holding a little person. Especially if that little person is part of me." Tory raked a hand through his dark hair, his gray eyes troubled.

"Then we'll work on that, baby." Lissa rose from her seat and hugged her second-born.

"Are you going to tell me where Reah is?"

"Not right now, Tory. She's busy and we don't need to upset her any more than she is already. Give it a little more time. Then we'll try to work this out. With her and with your daughters."

"Who's taking care of them? My babies?"

"Your Aunt Glinda and Uncle Jayd are watching over them, as is your father. They're well cared for. You don't have to worry."

"All right. But I want to see them soon."

"You will. I promise."

Zendeval Rjjn breathed out a sigh as he looked around him. Music thumped so loudly through the nightclub portion of Galedaro's that he couldn't hear himself think. Strobe lights in a rainbow of colors flashed across the dance floor and the usual capacity crowd was drinking, dancing and likely engaging in either sex or drug activity of some kind. He couldn't say that he liked any of it. He certainly had no appreciation for any of it and generally despised those who walked into the place, looking for titillation or escape.

Yes, he'd volunteered for the job, bechaithe jobause it was so much better than the alternative. He didn't like the alternative. At all. He felt it cheapened what remained of his race. All seventy-two of them. His father told him long ago that things were better in the distant past, but that was so far in the past as to be nearly myth, Zen figured. He'd never seen the good times, when the race had inhabited their own planet. His cousin Nedrizif held himself as King, now, although he bore no royal blood.

Zen's father, Zondilir, had been the last of a long line of Kings. Zen suspected Nedrizif of killing his father, but he could prove nothing. Ned's story was that he'd found Zen's father, bleeding from many wounds delivered by a monster that disappeared conveniently when Ned showed up. Ned also claimed that Zond passed the kingship to him, since he was with his uncle when he died. Either way, Nedrizif wore the ring that made him King. Zen had been far away at the time of his father's death. A convenience for Ned, a decided inconvenience for Zen.

Zen sighed again and walked toward the door that led into the employee's catacombs. Passed dressing rooms set aside for visiting musicians and performers, passed temporary sleeping quarters for some of the others who were on call. Walked by the door leading into the constantly busy kitchen.

Three master cooks worked the kitchens at Galedaro's, and Zen was looking for one more to handle another shift so the others could have days off. If he didn't hire someone suitable, he could lose at least two of his current cooks. They were overworked as it was and he couldn't afford that; good master cooks were extremely difficult to find and often required special treatment.

Tapping numbers into the keypad to bring his private elevator down, Zen stepped onto it and let the doors swish shut behind him. The conveyance operated on voice command—his voice and very few others. "Penthouse," he directed and was whooshed upward at a tremendous rate of speed. His comp-vid was going off before he set foot inside his quarters.

"Yes?"

"You'll have important visitors in seven days," Nedrizif informed him. "Six of them. Please ensure that they have the top suite and the best of everything. Have you hired the cook, yet?"

"I interviewed three today, and none of them was suitable. We have a standard to maintain, my King."

"Of course. Are there more interviews?"

"Yes. And I will place the advertisements again. I want the best we can get."

"As do I. Only the best will suit our guests, I assure you. I leave this task in your capable hands, cousin."

"I will do my best, my King."

"I depend upon it." Nedrizif terminated the communication. Zen punched the button a little slower and sighed again, tossing the comp-vid onto the hall table. His suite was sumptuous and he wanted for nothing, unless it was a bit of peace away from his cousin and the others. All of them postured and vied for position. Zen cared for none of it, but they were all that remained of his kind.

His father had told him once that they'd numbered in the millions before the fall of the race. A handful was all that was left, now. And here he was, the son of a King, taking orders and bowing down. At least, he thought for the second time in the same night, it's better than the alternative.

Chapter 5

"Mrs. Trispe?" Ry's voice sounded so sympathetic. I wish I had his gift, at times. He knew just the proper tone to take, every time. We'd come to speak with Jaske Trispe's mother the following morning, and had an interview with Maris Krastel's lover, Faldin Bierla, in the afternoon.

"You're from the ASD?" Shedrith Trispe seemed surprised that Rylend was an agent. I might agree with her, if I were in her place. Ry could grace any number of vid-mag covers, modeling the latest fashions or hairstyles.

"Yes. We've come to follow up on the case. We're still trying to determine what happened that would cause your poor son to deviate from his normal behavior."

"You do understand," Shedrith Trispe whispered, her eyes watering.

"Of course. Everyone says that this was so unlike him." Ry could have the worst of the worst eating from his hand in three blinks, I imagine.

"Please, come in." She held the door open for us. I followed Ry, not saying anything. We were led to seats in a small but tidy sitting room and drinks were offered. "He was such a good boy, even though he refused to work for Schuul Enterprises," Shedrith Trispe sighed as she sat across from us. "I didn't argue with his bid for independence, you know."

"Such a good parent," Ry said sympathetically. "Do you remember the other agent who came to speak with you?"

"Yes. He was nice as well, but not nearly as sympathetic. And I must admit, I'd just lost my boy, so I'm afraid I was weeping during the interview."

"Do you remember anything you talked about?" Ry asked.

"He just asked about Jaske. What he liked to do, where he liked to go. If he had any friends, that sort of thing."

"What do you think happened, Mrs. Trispe? Did something upset your son?"

"Not that I noticed," she said. "He was supposed to go out with a girl that he'd dated twice before, and he was looking forward to it. That's why all this is such a mystery. His life was opening up and he had a promising future, I think."

"Do we have the name of the girl?" Ry asked. "Just for my information," he added.

"I didn't have it for the other man; I told him I'd try to find it. Jaske was so secretive about the whole thing." She smiled, rose from her seat and went to a drawer, pulling out a comp-vid. "This was his, you know," she informed us and powered it up, scrolling through the menu. "Here it is—her name is Sedra." She handed the comp-vid to Ry with the information displayed.