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He threw some of that irritation back at her, growling, “I’ll go up there and demand they let you talk to Dante. If they refuse, I figure I can knock out at least two of his guards before the rest of them jump me. While I’ve got his men distracted, you move on Dante.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. It’s so like you to think you can solve a problem by throwing a few punches,” she scoffed. “You do that, and Dante will throw me off his stage while you’re carted away in chains.”

“You there,” boomed a deep voice.

Dammit. With Dante’s herbs filling their lungs, they didn’t have time to argue. For once, would it kill her to agree with him? “Not dealing with one of your snooty aristocrats here, Viv. Rules are different in this world.” He gritted his teeth. “Maybe instead of playing dress-up, we should have come up with a better plan.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Hey, I got us in, didn’t I?”

“The female in the hood,” the deep voice shouted.

“Lot of good that’s done us,” Liam fired back.

Someone tapped his shoulder. He turned and snarled. “What!” The female demon flinched and pointed to the stage.

It was then he noticed the attention they’d drawn. All around him, the writhing bodies stilled, and the music stopped. Torches flickered on the walls, flames crackling in the silence.

Vivian gasped, grabbing his forearm. “Liam, look.”

Dante stood in the middle of the stage, massive arms folded over his chest, ghostly eyes locked right on them.

The demon king held out his arm and crooked a finger, commanding, “Come.” Not waiting to see if they obeyed, he spun, returning to his throne.

“Seems we’ve been summoned,” Viv whispered.

“This can’t be good.”

The crowd parted before them. One of Dante’s guards strode to their side. “This way,” he commanded, guiding them to the stage.

As they climbed the steps, Dante raised his hand, and the music pounded to life. The dancers cheered, gyrating to the tribal rhythm.

Vivian followedLiam across the stage, her heels pinging against the iron. Tension hardened Liam’s wide shoulders, his bulk blocking her view. As they neared the throne, he cast Dante’s guard an antagonistic glare. The demon flexed his pecs in return, puffing smoke through his broad nostrils.

“Allow them through,” a commanding voice ordered, arrogance in its tone. The guard lowered his thick brow, cutting Liam one last glare before stepping aside.

Seated on an elevated platform, Dante gazed down on them from his enormous throne. The metal was forged in such a way it appeared a halo of fire burned behind him. He was lean but muscular, dressed in skintight leather pants with a coiled whip on his hip and his chest and feet bare. Black hair dusted his shoulders. Several of the pieces around his face were woven with beads and strands of gold. To Vivian’s eyes, the king seemed a cross between Satan and the lead singer of a heavy-metal rock band.

Massive onyx horns protruded from Dante’s forehead, curving slightly back then jutting what had to be two feet over his head. She imagined they were the reason he preferred to remain underground. There would be no hiding those glorious horns. And what a crime it would have been if he’d sheered them off tofit in. Unlike the other demons, his eyes were glazed with a metallic sheen, like two pools of liquid mercury.

Seated next to him was a massive black panther, the size of which she’d never seen before. It studied their approach with a similar cast to its mirrored eyes. In their depths was a shocking amount of intelligence. Could it be they were connected?

Dante stroked his pet’s blocky skull. “Beauty and her beast,” he drawled in a gravelly smoker’s voice. “Come closer. I don’t bite.”

His guard chuckled.

Liam took a step, and the demon king held up his hand. “Not you. Her.”

Vivian patted Liam’s shoulder before moving around him. She clasped her hands in front of her, not sure if she should curtsey. “You summoned us, My Lord?”

“Dante,” he corrected, his words clipped. “And don’t play coy. It doesn’t suit you. I know why you’re here. Clocked you the moment you walked through my doors. That thing your beast is carrying glows brighter than the midday sun.”

Vivian swallowed. He knew about the dagger. Of course he knew. He was an oracle, after all.

Before she could question his intentions, he flipped a hand. “Worry not. It isn’t your little trinket that interests me.You, however…” He tapped a finger against his lip. “Like the rest, you’ve come here because you want something from me. And yet, you are nothing like the others. Interesting. I do enjoy a good challenge to break up the monotony.”

“We’ve come—”

“Herbs,” Dante commanded, clapping his hands. “More herbs.” Scantily clad servants rushed to the flaming pyres scattered around the room. From their baskets, they cast neatly tied bundles onto fiery bowls. Hulking demons used palm fronds to fan the flames. Great gusts of smoke billowed throughout the space.