When Darkness Ends (Guardians of Eternity #12)(11)

It didn’t matter. The extra acres of land had allowed the Irish fairies to gather their tribe in one place. A rare occurrence in the modern age that not only consolidated their magic, but had given their prince a position of power among his people.

The fools had been gushingly grateful.

So grateful that they didn’t realize that his generosity came at a price. Even after he’d gently requested that they share with him a rare Compulsion spell that had been forbidden by Sariel, the King of Fey.

They didn’t know that he could make the potion even more powerful with his own skill with magic, weaving vast webs of compulsion that could trap even the most wary.

Then all he had to do was sit back and manipulate those in his command. Like a puppet master, tugging on the strings.

Or at least, he’d assumed they hadn’t been aware of his secret efforts.

Now he had to wonder if the prince had started to suspect that Anthony was using the potion for more than swaying his fellow members of Parliament to vote in his favor.

“I understand, Yiant,” he murmured, his tone still gentle. “And I truly admire your reluctance to break fey law. Your people will be proud to know that you kept your honor even if they are forced to abandon their homes.”

The fairy licked his lips. Duty might tell him to sever his connection to Anthony, but it was obvious that he was reluctant to jeopardize his own power among his people.

“There has to be another price I can pay,” he said, his ambition a tangible force in the air.

“I fear not.” Anthony rose to his feet, his smile one of regret. “Please give my regards to your mother, the queen, and tell her that I’m deeply sorry that we could not come to an agreement—”

“Wait.”

“Aye?”

Lick, lick, lick of the lips.

“Perhaps something could be arranged.”

Gotcha.

Anthony hid his smug smile. The prince was as easy to play as a fiddle.

“I really do think it would be for the best, my friend,” he agreed with a sweetly encouraging smile. “It would be a pity to see the protected lands become a shopping center.”

Yiant gave a stiff nod, turning to head for the door. “I will be in contact.”

“Soon,” Anthony warned, briefly wondering precisely what had prompted the unexpected display of defiance before he was abruptly interrupted by the scent of cherries.

Turning his head, Anthony watched as the mongrel stepped through the hidden panel at the back of the room.

Keeley was a half human/half imp male who’d sought Anthony’s protection after the death of the previous Anasso. The too-handsome creature with pale green eyes and a mane of sleek golden hair had once been a playmate of the dissolute King of Vampires, and worse, he’d been related to Damocles, the imp who had contributed to the downfall of the once-powerful leader.

The imp had feared that Styx might retaliate against those he held responsible for the destruction of his mentor and fled to Ireland.

Not an unreasonable fear.

So he’d allied himself with the druids, and over the past year, he’d earned a place in Anthony’s inner circle.

It wasn’t that he was more clever or talented or powerful than Anthony’s other servants. Hell, his only real skill was creating portals.

But he was willing to follow any order, no matter how outrageous, and more importantly, he possessed an intimate knowledge of the caves where the previous Anasso had lived.

Caves that were now occupied by the leaders of the demon world, the Commission.

“You truly are evil, Benson,” the imp murmured, crossing the Aubusson carpet.

Anthony adjusted his cuffs.

The imp had no idea just how evil he could be.

Not yet.

“I don’t recall inviting you to my office, imp.”

Wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans that emphasized his smooth, muscular chest, Keeley halted next to the wing chair.

“We have a problem.”

Anthony frowned. “The prisoners?” he demanded, referring to the elder druids who refused to accept his vision for the future as well as the two interfering fairies.

His first thought had been to destroy them. A dead enemy was the best enemy. But he hated to toss away such a valuable resource.

It would be a sin to waste such potent blood.

So instead of burning them at the stake, he’d locked them in a Labyrinth spell that kept them safely imprisoned.

Keeley shook his head. “The spell still holds them.”

“Then what has happened?”

“A friend from America sent me this.”

The imp held out his phone to reveal a photo of a slender man with a long mane of hair that glistened like rubies even in the grainy image.

“A fairy?”

“A Chatri.”

Anthony hissed in shock. It wasn’t often anyone mentioned the pure-blooded ancients who were the ultimate rulers of the fey. They were written about in the secret druid legends, of course, along with dire warnings never to attract their attention.

It was said that an angry Chatri could kill with just the power of his light . . . whatever the hell that meant.

Anthony didn’t know, and didn’t want to find out.

“Impossible,” he growled.

“Unexpected, but clearly not impossible,” the imp drawled.