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“You know how to destroy an object of dark energy?” Liam asked, tone belaying his doubt.

“Not a clue, but I know someone who does. There’s this guy, Dante. He’s an oracle. He owns a club of sorts called Pyrrhos. If he doesn’t have the answers, no one does.” Oracles were rare. The gift of foresight was believed to be handed down by the gods themselves.

“This Dante fellow…?” Vivian began. “Who is he?” The gift wasn’t restricted to any one species. Oracles could be from any race, even human.

Gavin winced. “He’s, uh, the King of the Fire Demons.”

“Course he is,” Liam groaned. “Would have been too easy if he was some mild-mannered librarian.”

“Dante’s a bit of a purist,” Gavin added. “He refuses to shave his horns and blend in with the mortal realm, so he rarely leaves his kingdom. He’s also blind as a mole rat, though he sees everything. Kind of ironic if you ask me.”

“How do we contact him?” Vivian asked.

“Dante gets bored. Living in a hidden underground city will do that. Since it’s difficult for him to leave, he brings the entertainment to him. Once a week, he throws a massive party. His guards decide who makes the cut. To get in, you have to look the part. Since Dante is selective about who he’ll see, once you’re inside, you’ll need to stand out. Do something to snare his attention. Even if you manage to get close to him, he may not be in the mood to help.”

Liam frowned. “It’s a long shot.”

“Maybe,” Vivian agreed, “but it’s all we have.”

“One more thing,” Gavin interrupted. “No matter how tempting. Do. Not. Smoke his herbs. Swear that stuff could turn a Bible study into an orgy.”

Vivian held up her hand. “Consider us warned.” If he spoke from experience, she’d rather not know the details. “Tell us how we should dress tolook the part.”

Gavin scratched his head and eyed them both. “Think Cirque du Soleil but hotter and with a lot more leather.”

Vivian smiled. Liam may know about weapons and motorcycles, but clothes were her area of expertise. “Leave it to me.”

Seventeen

Liam stoodnext to Vivian in the line outside Pyrrhos. Its entrance was at the base of a cavern, with Dante’s kingdom hidden deep underground.

The way Liam was dressed, he’d little doubt Vivian was out to get him back for some of the stripper comments he’d made to her over the years.The leather pants she insisted he wear were plastered to his ass and crawling between his cheeks.

He shifted his weight, twisting his hips. When that failed to give him ease, he reached around and picked the seam out of his crack.

“Stop that,” Vivian admonished. She stood beside him in a crimson-lined cloak, hood low over her head so only her disapproving scowl was visible.

After their visit to Howlers, she’d dragged him to a boutique she frequented. The store owner was a friend of hers from back in her burlesque days. Monique had a flare for the dramatic and was more than familiar with the dress code at Pyrrhos. She’d been ecstatic at the idea of dressing them, declaring that not one of her clients had ever been denied entrance.

“Never thought I’d see the day I longed for a suit,” Liam muttered.

Vivian uttered a scoffing sound. “Cinch yourself into a pair of platform heels and a thong. Then maybe I’ll feel an ounce of sympathy for you and your plight.”

His ears twitched. Was she wearing a thong under that getup? He’d yet to see what she was hiding under her cloak.

Unlike Vivian’s, his outfit left little to the imagination. He was bare-chested, a pair of laced cuffs on his forearms. If he were being fair, the leather gauntlet thingies he didn’t mind. Those he liked. It was the other shit that had him ready to pound someone’s skull in.

Vivian had braided gold beads into his mohawk like he was a circus pony. Worse, he was wearing makeup.Makeup,for gods’ sakes.

Sure, she tried to trick him, calling it kohl or some kind of bullshit like that. But he knew. After the beads, she’d dared to line the bottom of his lids with that black pencil shit. Then snapped at him when he’d taken a swipe at it with the back of his hand.

Monique said weapons were not discouraged at Pyrrhos. Since he didn’t want the dagger out of his sight even for a second, it was buckled into a thick leather sheath on his thigh. One of the straps was attached to his belt, and two others secured it around his leg. As long as he stayed clear of the hilt, he wouldn’t get burned.

It was a shame the only weapon he carried was one he couldn’t touch. The way he was feeling, he would love nothing more than to have Alistair, Zion, or the whole fucking Syndicate show their faces here. He’d cut the bastards into little pieces for the lengths he was going to in order to protect Vivian.

“Next.” The guard at the entrance waved them forward, dressed in a getup similar to Liam’s. Massive horns protruded from the demon’s forehead, angling back over his skull. Gold tips adorned the ends while thin gold bands circled the male’s biceps, and a leather harness crisscrossed his broad chest. Liam took his measure. Yeah, he might look tough, but if Vivian gave the word, he could flatten the bastard.

The fire demon angled his head to better see Vivian’s face. “What have we here?”