Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

LYRE

Lyre held his arms out to the sides and waited for Clio's judgment. Her summer-sky eyes ran over him from head to toe before returning to his face.

She wrinkled her nose. "It looks terrible. Black doesn't suit you at all."

"It's a disguise. It's not supposed to be flattering."

"But…" She pursed her lips. "Well, you don't look like an incubus anymore."

"That's the important part." He glanced at his reflection in the glass balcony door. The illusion that had darkened his hair to raven black and his eyes to the color of tree bark wasn't doing him any favors, but even a terrible color scheme didn't take away from his looks that much. "Maybe I should create the illusion of an ugly nose or something."

"You're fine. The bounty hunters are looking for a blond guy." She grabbed a sweater off the bed and tossed it at him. "Let's go before we miss Sabir."

As Lyre pulled it over his head and drew the hood up, she twisted her hair into a bun and jammed her new hat on top of it. They checked the room one more time, then headed down the stairs. He couldn't say he would miss the place. The cockroaches would probably miss them, though.

The rain had finally let up, but the street shone with puddles and the air was heavy with the threat of more precipitation. The moment they set foot outside, Lyre's senses jumped into high gear.

Ash had given him advance warning once, but the draconian wouldn't extend that mercy a second time. Not after the way their last fight had gone. Women weren't forgiving of incubi who used aphrodesia on them, but men got vicious over it. Having their mind wiped by male sex magic tended to shake them to their very core—and leave them feeling especially vengeful.

And now, according to Reed, he and Clio could expect more mercenary company to show up.

Walking briskly at Clio's side, he took a moment to marvel at the idea of Reed coming to Brinford to pass on a warning—and to deliver his lost spellwork. That black bag of magic was the source of the complex illusion disguising him. Creating a simple illusion for hair color was easy, but creating one that other daemons couldn't detect was much harder.

His brother's visit had come in the nick of time; a few hours later and Clio would have missed him entirely. Lyre appreciated Reed delivering his lost spells, but that wasn't what had drawn his brother into the city. Nor had he come to deliver a warning—at least not a warning about bounty hunters.

Reed wasn't the type to go out of his way for anything less than the most dire of circumstances. A bounty was bad, but Lyre was a master weaver. He had more than enough spells to deal with the average mercenary—Ash being an exception, but the draconian wasn't "average" in any sense of the word.

Reed had come to deliver a different warning, one he hadn't shared with Clio. Lyre could guess what it was, though. So far, his hunters had come from Hades—reapers, draconians, and now mercenaries. But there was someone else who would be even more brutally determined to see Lyre killed as quickly as possible.

Lyceus. His father .

Reed wouldn't bother to warn Lyre about mercenaries. He wouldn't bother to warn Lyre if Andante, Ariose, or Madrigal were coming to Earth to hunt him down.

But if their father had joined the hunt… that was something Reed would see as dire enough to require a warning. It also explained why Reed had anticipated that his first attempt to contact Lyre would also be his last. If Lyceus guessed what Reed had been up to, he'd ensure his wandering son stayed home for a good long while.

Lyre shivered at the thought of his father hunting him, and he was grateful he'd soon be out of this city—and out of this realm.

He and Clio traversed the dark downtown streets in silence, watching for any signs of danger. They lingered near the closed shopping mall for half an hour before venturing inside and sneaking through the hidden door to the abandoned metro station. The walk down the tracks was the most frightening part of their journey—a long, empty stretch of darkness where an ambush would be only too easy.

They quickly bypassed the ward at the next station and slipped in among the bustle of the market. Lyre's gaze traveled from daemon to daemon and his skin prickled.

When they stopped to wait for a group to move out of their way, Clio leaned closer to him.

"Is it just me," she whispered, "or is it a lot busier than last time?"

"Seems like it," he answered grimly.

Their path cleared and she walked ahead of him, her shoulders rigid. Shivers crawled up and down his spine as he followed her to the merchant booths. Again, a large crowd had gathered around the poacher's booth, and Lyre wondered if that wolfish creature with feathers—the lycaon—had been recaptured.

Sabir the plant seller was perched on a stool behind his booth of leafy things, but the table was far emptier than two nights ago, and all the large plants were gone. Sabir's gaze found Clio well before she approached his table.

Lyre almost felt bad for the guy—he didn't have a charismatic bone in his body—but he mostly felt annoyed that they had to rely on the daemon to get to the Overworld. Despite Lyre's assurances to Clio that he wasn't jealous, the Overworlder gave him a bad feeling .

"Sabir," Clio gushed, resuming her terrible attempts at flirting. Lyre quashed his automatic smile. "I'm so glad you're here. I was worried…"

The daemon glanced at Lyre, who raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge. Sabir flicked his attention to Clio, his expression darkening ominously. "I didn't expect you to bring the incubus back."

Clearly, Lyre's disguise wasn't good enough.

"He, uh, well…" She leaned forward, getting nice and close to Sabir. Hmm. Maybe her seduction skills weren't as amateurish as he'd thought. "He's actually my… business partner. Last time—that was just an act so he didn't get ripped apart."

Sabir's mouth flattened. "What sort of business?"

"Um …"

Lyre smiled condescendingly at the daemon. "Is that really a question you want anyone around here to ask?"

Sabir's scowl deepened. "You aren't part of my agreement with Clio."

Having expected this, Lyre pulled a pouch from his pocket and dropped it on the table. "Double the people, then double the payment. Only fair, right?"

Oozing displeasure, Sabir opened the pouch and peeked inside. His expression didn't change, but he tied the bag shut and slipped it out of sight. A practiced merchant—no reaction to the money and he removed it from the table immediately. He knew what he was doing, and like most businessmen, he wasn't about to turn down money just because he wasn't excited about taking an incubus along.

"When do we leave?" Clio asked brightly.

Sabir shifted on his stool, probably still adjusting to his disappointment that he wouldn't get Clio all to himself for the journey. "It's unusually busy tonight. I'll pack up after things settle down."

Lyre's instincts sharpened. So it wasn't just his inexperience with the market that had made it seem more crowded. If this was unusual enough for Sabir to notice, then…

Lyre took a step back and carefully scanned every daemon in his line of sight. Clio seemed to have the same idea, because she turned the other way as she casually swiped her hand across her eyes—a signal he'd come to recognize as her using her astral perception.

Daemons went about their business, none paying any attention to Lyre or Clio, but he didn't trust it. Too many wore hoods, hats, sunglasses, and other more conspicuous methods of covering their faces. He shifted closer to Clio but he couldn't see anyone looking their way. Busy booths, small groups in discussion, two men haggling over a glowing glass orb?—

His gaze stalled on a dark nook near the stairs—the only spot on the entire bustling platform empty of daemons.

Except it wasn't empty.

He'd almost missed it. He'd almost assumed it was just a shadowy corner. But a haggling daemon lifted his orb in a vehement gesture and its light sparkled across the wall, piercing those deep shadows. The shape of a man was cast into sharp relief before disappearing again.

Lyre sucked in a breath so fast he almost choked. The hidden man wore a long trench coat with the deep hood pulled over his head—and a black wrap covering the lower half of his face. Already?

He almost jumped out of his skin when Clio grabbed his arm. He tilted his head, not daring to take his eyes off the shadowed corner.

"Lyre," she hissed in alarm. "I think we're about to have trouble."

"I know," he whispered back.

A pause. "What are you looking at?"

He tensed even more. "Apparently not what you're looking at."

Her hand tightened on his arm. "Half a dozen griffins are converging on that poacher's booth. It looks like it's going to get ugly."

"Griffins?" Sabir barked before Lyre could respond. He grabbed a thick canvas bag and started shoving his merchandise into it. "We're leaving now."

"Are griffins bad?" Lyre asked, still watching the corner. Letting the draconian know Lyre had seen him.

"Griffins aren't allowed in here." Sabir lowered his voice and shoveled plants into his bag with no care whatsoever. "They control or influence half the trade in the Overworld. It's their laws and tariffs we're all here to avoid. "

Clio pressed closer to Lyre. "There's another eight of them mixed into the crowd. They all have their faces or heads covered, but they look the same. They might be soldiers."

"Why didn't the ward trigger?" Sabir spat a foreign curse. "There's an old cathedral ten blocks north of here. Meet me there. I don't want to be seen leaving with anyone."

He threw his rucksack over his shoulder, grabbed his last ceramic pot off the table, and got exactly three steps away before all hell broke loose.

Lyre didn't see what happened, but magic exploded from the vicinity of the poacher's table. Screams and furious shouts erupted, something hit the floor with a bang, and steel blades rang as they were pulled from sheaths all across the platform.

Lyre scooped Clio against his side and sprang over Sabir's emptied table. Landing on the other side, he pulled it over to form a barricade. Magic burst all around as the griffin raiders attacked the poacher—and the poacher's customers attacked the griffins. The violence spread like wildfire, and daemons dropped glamour as they went into full battle mode. Sabir had vanished in the pandemonium, hopefully making a successful escape.

Clio flinched at another whistling burst of power. "We have to get out of here!"

Lyre agreed, but?—

With a flash of yellow light, six daemons went flying—and half of them crashed down on him and Clio. Lyre hit the floor with a grunt, some idiot sprawled half on top of him. The daemon snarled as he pushed up, tearing at Lyre's shirt.

His illusion gem tumbled out of his pocket, and the daemon's eyes widened as Lyre's appearance changed. With his own snarl, Lyre punched the daemon in the gut, shoved him off, and grabbed the daemon who'd flattened Clio. He flung the guy aside and hauled her up.

Light blazed and the volume reached ear-splitting levels as magic went off on all sides. The griffins on the other end of the platform had launched attacks, and battle consumed the whole station.

Instead of rejoining the fray, the daemons Lyre had thrown seemed to decide he was a griffin too. They charged him. He slammed paralysis spells into them and they crumpled to the floor .

Coming from directly behind them was Ash.

His short sword gleamed as he leaped over the fallen daemons and rammed into Lyre. As Lyre went over backward and hit the floor a second time, he grabbed Ash's forearm before he got impaled.

With a twist of his wrist, Ash freed his sword arm and the blade flashed down.

A rogue ball of purple flame flew out of a nearby fight and smacked Ash in the back of the head. He jerked forward, and Lyre shoved him off. Rolling away, Lyre jumped to his feet—and a hunk of wood, thrown by an explosion, hit him in the back. He crumpled to his knees and swore.

Ash lunged up and pivoted toward Lyre, when a random daemon snatched the draconian's coat and yanked him off balance.

Lyre sprang away, leaving Ash with the poor fool who'd grabbed him, and looked around frantically for Clio. Out of the chaos, she jumped to his side, magic swirling over her hands. She flung two spells into the nearest daemons. One went down in a binding spell, and the other was blasted off his feet.

Lyre did a double take. He could do simultaneous casts too, but completely different spells?

She was already casting again, green light flickering across her fingers. A black-eyed daemon, frothing with bloodlust, shot toward Lyre. He grabbed the guy by the shirt front and threw him with an extra dose of magical force. Ash sprang out of the way as the body sailed past him.

The draconian whipped back toward Lyre, his trench coat discarded to reveal the myriad of weapons strapped over his dark clothes.

"Underworlders!" a daemon howled, his voice rising above the cacophony.

"Seriously?" Lyre snarled as a dozen nearby daemons turned from whatever fights they were having to focus on Ash and Lyre, standing in plain view.

Clio popped up between them and threw her two spells into the nearest daemons' faces.

Lyre swore again and wrenched her away from Ash. The draconian lunged for Lyre but had to duck as a blast went over his head. Then the other daemons were on them.