Page 72 of Demon Heart: The Complete Series

ROMAN

A n hour later, the SUVs broke out of the rain and darkness of yet more country lanes, crawling up a steep hill, a series of lampposts switching on as we approached.

“Where are we?” Darcy asked for all of us.

We didn’t really get a chance to speak on the drive, the SUV’s radio playing a hysterical news report for the past hour on the change in royal power, what it meant for the country and diplomacy, and the spreading chaos in central London.

It left us with no opportunity to talk, which was fine by me.

I’d rather be quiet, shutting the world outside, knowing my guys were safe.

Eventually, the SUV crested the lip of the hill, a stunning country house appearing before us as bunch of floodlights clicked on. Grand and huge, perfect for a gothic ghost story, surrounded by dark fields and forests.

Give me the city over this every time.

“Where the hell are we?” I repeated Darcy’s question.

The royal guards provided no information, taking us up to the huge wooden doors in silence.

Shadowy wankers.

They ushered us from the SUV into the delicious warmth of a hallway dripping with regal opulence, the décor red and gold, three chandeliers above my head.

Five men in expensive butler garb waited in a line before one of three massive staircases, bowing to the new queen.

Piper, supported by that same woman who’d stopped her nose kissing the carpet back at the castle, greeted them all, then turned to me.

“Welcome to Lawrence House.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” I responded. “Is it a royal residence?”

“A secret one. Sort of. About an hour’s drive from Nightingale Castle.”

“Stunning,” Xavier said.

She smiled at him. “You’ll be safe here for the time being. You will all be asked to sign waivers to basically keep your mouths shut about this. If you do talk about it, your tongue will rot. Sorry, it’s always been the magical rule when it comes to this place.”

“Noted, Your Highness,” Darcy said. “Sorry, Your Majesty.”

“This will take some time to adjust to,” she answered. “Anyway, let’s get cleaned up. We can talk and eat together in a little while. Does that sound okay?”

“More than okay,” I said. “My God, Piper… Majesty… Whoa.”

“I know. Who’d have thought it? But let’s get cleaned up. Oh, and Xavier?”

“Your Majesty?”

“Don’t shift into your demon form unless you really have to. There are demon towers everywhere. Security is tight here.”

The new queen was led away up the east stairs, while we were taken up the western ones through big corridors, dropped off in a suite with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a balcony area with a dining table to seat at least six people.

A suite? The living room alone was bigger than my whole flat a few times over.

Decorated in the same reds and golds as the rest of this mansion, aside from the lavender bathrooms, the suite was too glamorous for the likes of me.

I felt a little uncomfortable surrounded by so much gleam and sparkle.

Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tiny bit on board with the luxury.

And I never turned my back on a gift or a stroke of luck.

There was a cage for Darcy, along with a variety of lavish snacks fit for a talking rat. And snacks for us—lots of biscuits and posh crisps.

Darcy wanted answers before nibbles. You knew he meant business when he turned down food, so I sat with him on the super soft sofa and told him everything from the moment I’d gone to assassinate King Basile, right up until this point.

By the time I finished, we were almost at sunrise.

“Knock me down with a feather.”

“I’ve never understood that saying. Shouldn’t it be a cricket bat? At least that’s got some weight behind it.”

He squeaked impatiently at me from my lap. “Not really the point, is it? Christ!”

“No. The point is, I’m free.” I rolled up my sleeve to check the mark. The scab remained, slicing through the tattoo. “Threat neutralized. We’ll just keep slicing my bicep until Butterfly’s death day rolls by. Plus, the prick can’t move through time without me.”

I looked to Xavier standing over by the open drapes. He smiled warmly.

“I’m so confused,” Darcy said. “This time thing is…”

“My brain hurts, too.”

“Tanith remains a problem,” Xavier added, cracking the relief.

What if I took her back in time and dropped her into a village packed with Arcana-wielding witches and warlocks? Would that work?

But that still messed with time.

Fuck it.

“There’s a time traveling device in your chest,” Darcy said, “which has the potential to end all magic. I can’t get over that.”

“Same, buddy. Same.”

“I’m so sorry. Your life was sort of robbed from you.”

“So was yours.”

“But that was my fault. It’s not like this.”

I stroked his head. “Don’t worry about me, buddy. I’ll get over it.”

“Well, you can shut your face right now. I’m your bestie. I’ll help you get through this, be your rock like you’ve been mine. So stop trying to be tough.”

What a sweetheart. “Thanks.”

“No need for thanks.” He licked my hand.

“The same applies to you, buddy. You’ve been through some nasty shit. I’m here for you.”

“Our upcoming movie marathon will help.”

Nothing would please me more than chilling with my buddy, shutting the world away.

Darcy moved onto the sofa’s arm. “What will happen to the device if it stops working? We really don’t know for sure what it is, what it will do. Has time suffered damage we’re yet to see? Can everything be reversed? What if… Oh, Christ.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Try not to worry.”

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” he huffed. “I need a gin.”

“There’s a liquor cabinet by the TV.”

“Good idea,” Xavier said.

The demon inspected the bottles on top of the wooden cabinet, opening the glass door to investigate the other boozy delights and the plethora of glasses within.

“Brandy for me,” he said, picking up a fancy bottle. “Gin for Darcy. There’s vodka. No ice.”

“Ice takes up too much room,” Darcy answered.

“I like the way you think. Roman? Would you like a drink?”

“Any chamomile?”

“Are you being serious?” Darcy scolded me. “This isn’t a tea situation. Get something strong inside you. Join in.”

My cheeks flared with heat. God, talk about putting me in my place. “Fine. I’ll have a vodka, please.” I glowered at my little buddy, laughing on the inside.

“Good, good, good.”

To be fair, the burn of the expensive vodka in my throat provided a nice boost to my system.

Darcy noticed, twitching those whiskers proudly. His tiny tongue lapped up some gin from a small glass I held for him. Four licks and done.

“Ah, bliss.”

Xavier returned to the window, sipping on his brandy, his back to us.

I watched him, considering wrapping my arms around his delicious body. But I stayed put, his body language telling me he wanted some quiet time.

Big respect for quiet time.

“What do you think will happen next?” Darcy asked, climbing onto my shoulder.

“No idea. I never expected the queen to be taken down like this. Things won’t suddenly go in a better direction, but at least there’s the possibility of maybe turning this shitty tide.”

“Our new queen has a lot to deal with.”

“She’s got to be better than her mum.”

“Providing us with shelter proves she is. She’s even allowing a demon to sip on her brandy.”

Xavier didn’t react.

“There’s a lot for her to untangle,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

“She does wear good shoes.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve never noticed her footwear? Absolutely amazing.”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Have a look when we meet her for dinner.”

“I’m not really interested in fashionable footwear.”

“Suit yourself.”

I rubbed his head. “How’s the gin sitting?”

“Nicely. I’d like to get sloshed, but not here. Doesn’t seem like a place for pickled rodents. Which kind of scares me.”

“Rodents being pickled?”

“I have visions of jars in creepy basements, bodies floating…”

I held back a chuckle. Where was his mind going? “Try not to upset yourself. And don’t lick anymore of that gin.”

“Can you pop the TV on for me, please?” he asked.

“Sure.” The moment it came on, more screaming news of our new queen blazed across the screen, and a story about King Basile planning a press conference to speak on the situation.

Should be interesting.

Xavier moved to stand beside the sofa, sipping his drink. His cinnamon-violet scent wafted into my nostrils, tickling my senses, stirring my loins to life. I shuffled, adjusting my firming dick to a more comfortable position.

I poured some nuts and raisins onto the sofa for Darcy. He was engrossed by the debate taking place on the screen.

Kind of.

“Don’t you want to take a bath?” I asked.

“I suppose so. Quick dunk in the sink will do.”

“Come on.”

He returned to my shoulder after stuffing some snacks into his mouth, puffing up his cheeks.

I took him into one of the bathrooms, the lavender tiles so glossy-looking under the ambient lighting.

There was pool set into the center of the floor which was actually a grand bathtub, a shower and two white sinks over in the corner.

The toilet was in a separate section, hidden behind a frosted glass door.

“Look at the size of this place,” I said.

“Try not to let it get to you.”

“It’s not.”

“This means nothing. It might be lavish, but this feels cold. Unhomely. I much prefer our bathroom, our home. People make a home. Things do too, in many respects, but only because the people infuse those things with love when they pick them up. Thus, making the entire place filled with love. Does that make sense?”

“Man, you’re such a sweetie.”

“I know, Roman. I know.” He giggled his ratty giggle.

His words made me sad, though. Going back to our home wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Even if it was still standing. Could well be a charred ruin by now.

That gave me a belly ache.