A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)(41)

“Put these on,” Caspian whispered. “And keep your heads down. We can pass as weaklings while we move forward. My friend’s place is about a hundred yards away from here.”

I nodded and covered myself up, then proceeded to follow Caspian as he snuck between rocky huts. A spine-chilling wave of squeals stopped me in my tracks, and I looked over my shoulder to identify the source. Jax, Hansa, Blaze, and Caia stilled next to me as we witnessed the feeding of the poor.

A larger daemon dragged a cart up the narrow road. It was loaded with a cage filled with wild animals the daemon had captured from outside—mostly deer and boar-like creatures that squirmed and whimpered as they got closer to a small gathering of elder daemons.

“Those living in these parts of the city are too weak to hunt for themselves, but they still provide labor,” Caspian said, following my gaze. I watched as the cage was flung open, but the animals were too scared to come out. Instead, the daemons went in and started dragging them out, their red eyes glimmering with delight as they tore flesh from bone and ate the meat raw, blood smearing their chins and saggy, wrinkled chests. “So they’re fed by the city and kept alive, as they clean up and do various other duties that are considered too demeaning for the others.”

“Demeaning?” I murmured, as we continued walking through the poorest parts of the daemon city.

“Yes. Things that hunters and soldiers cannot be tasked with doing. Jobs that are not fit for merchants, servants, and nobles,” Caspian replied.

“They have nobles here?” Jax asked, constantly looking around, making sure we weren’t followed or noticed.

“Of course,” Caspian said. “They have hierarchies in place, like an organized society, and that includes royal and noble blood.”

We followed him deeper into a section of rounded, igloo-shaped huts made from black obsidian blocks. They looked cleaner and smoother than what we’d seen so far. The daemons here were quiet and kept away from the crowded main street that stretched about fifty yards to our left.

“This is where clerics live,” Caspian explained. “The others leave them alone, mainly because the king likes them. Their service to local deities isn’t valued in any way, but the king is amused and fascinated by their ancient customs, which long precede him, so he leaves them be.”

“You’re awfully chatty about daemons now,” I noticed, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave me a brief sideways glance as I kept up with him.

“These aren’t secrets anymore. You are here, walking among them. The least I can do is explain what you’re seeing,” he replied bluntly. “Anyway, we are here.”

We stopped in front of a small hut. Caspian checked our surroundings, and then we went inside. The place looked nice and rather spacious. Orange lights flickered on wall-mounted shells, and furs lined the floor. There were several crates piled on one side, and a small firepit dug in the middle. It was currently being used for boiling water infused with pleasant-smelling herbs.

An old daemon shot to his feet as soon as he saw us, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes at the sight of Caspian, followed by concern as he measured each of us from head to toe.

“It’s okay, Mose,” Caspian said. “They’re here to help the Nerakians.”

Mose looked to be in his mid-sixties, his long black hair riddled with thick white streaks pouring into a ponytail. Red and yellow beads were braided into the hair on top of his head, and he wore a simple black tunic that left only his arms and calves uncovered. There was a medallion around his neck that caught my eye—a silver triangle mounted in a circle, with a black enamel center on which a familiar symbol had been painted red.

“Are they the ones you spoke of, Lord Kifo?” Mose asked, taking several wary steps forward to get a better look at us.

“Yes, Mose. We need to talk,” Caspian replied, as Mose motioned for us to sit around the firepit and pulled a black curtain over the hut’s entrance, before he sat down across the fire from us.

“What are you all doing here?” Mose asked, his red eyes on Caspian.

“I’m under oath and cannot tell them everything they need to know, but you can help fill in some of the blanks,” Caspian said, his knee touching mine as he crossed his legs in his seated position.

Silence fell between us for a minute, while I tried to read Mose’s emotions. I’d not had any luck with the other daemons I’d encountered, and Mose was just as immune to my sentry abilities. My shoulders dropped. I’d known the chances were slim, but still, can’t blame a girl for trying…

“What do you wish to know?” Mose eventually asked, his gaze fixed on me. “You can ask, instead of trying to poke around in my head.”

My cheeks flushed as I realized he’d felt me just then.

“So you can sense when I try to read your mind,” I mumbled, and Mose responded with a nod.

“You can’t read me, but I can definitely feel you trying,” he replied. “Word’s already out about you, young lady. The hunters you faced came back with interesting stories.”

“Okay then, let’s start with some basics.” I leaned forward. “How old are you, Mose?”

“Seventy-one thousand, nine-hundred, and ninety-nine full moons. And I’ve yet to know your name, young lady.”

I blinked several times, doing quick math in my head.