Free Caged in Bone (The Ascension Series) by SM Reine Page B

asked.
    “This is the most humane way to leave them,” Neuma said. “Trust me. Still want to see the prime minister?”
    The nearest hand strained toward Rylie, fingers swiping blindly through the air.
    She covered her mouth with her hand, swallowed vomit that stung her sore throat, and followed Neuma down the stairs.

    A few underground paths and staircases later, they reached something that looked a lot like a throne room. High, arched beams crisscrossed the ceilings, each hung with velvet drapes that were long enough to brush the floor. The crimson banners were stamped with black X’s as tall as Rylie, and they fluttered in a wind that Rylie couldn’t feel. The flapping of cloth echoed in the silence.
    A throne stood in front of a wall painted with a peeling mural. The seat was a stark black slab with a webbed iron back and toothlike spikes where the armrests should have been. Sitting on it would require extremely careful arrangement of limbs—and maybe full body armor.
    Between the fiery light filtering through the frosted windows and the deep shadows behind the banners, the throne room was starkly beautiful. A work of art carved from gleaming obsidian and black opal.
    Nails clicked against stone, and Rylie realized belatedly that Ace was chained near the throne. The pit bull had been given enough slack that he could pace back and forth across the end of the room, pink-lined ears perked and teeth bared in a growl. He had water in a crystal bowl and naked bones scattered around his bed.
    Neuma all but skipped to the throne, keeping out of Ace’s biting range as she flopped onto the chair. She didn’t seem to be worried about the spikes. She placed her elbow between them without getting punctured, kicked her feet up on the other side, and gave a big smile. “You wanted to talk to the prime minister, and here I am.”
    “You’re not the prime minister,” Abram said, his silver eyes flashing in the firelight.
    “I am whenever Elise ain’t here, and I told you topside, she’s away on personal business.” Neuma flourished her hands. “But you got me. I’ve got all the authority she does, and I’m almost as sexy.”
    Rylie’s heart twisted. She didn’t know this succubus, didn’t trust her. “When will Elise be back?”
    “First day of next year,” Neuma said. “It won’t be long if you wait down here. Time’s been shifting between dimensions a lot lately. I’d bet if you wait about four or five days, January’ll come before you know it.”
    By January, Abel would be so far gone that there would be no trail to follow. Rylie’s eyes stung. She blinked back tears. “I really need to talk to Elise.”
    “Why? What’s the matter?”
    “It’s personal.”
    “Ain’t it always. Look—here, come on, sit up front with me. I don’t wanna have to yell at you from across the room.”
    After a moment’s hesitation, Rylie and Abram stepped through the fluttering banners. There were tables and benches in front of the throne. Rylie sat down and set her jacket next to her.
    “There,” Neuma said. “Better, huh?”
    Abram stood behind Rylie, a warm presence at her back that smelled of annoyance. He wasn’t happy with any of this. Ace didn’t seem to be happy with it either. He had paced to the end of his chain until the collar dug into his neck.
    “You’re wasting our time like this, leading us so deep into the Palace. How much time have you wasted on Earth? Is it deliberate?” Abram asked.
    “Yeah, it’s deliberate. Not the time wasting. The room.” Neuma jerked her thumb toward the mural behind her. “This throne room ain’t been used in a long damn time. Way before the Treaty of Dis. You know what that is?” Rylie’s hesitation was apparently answer enough, because the demon explained. “It was a pact between angels, demons, and humans to end the First War. It kept angels outta Hell, demons outta Heaven, and it created kopides—demon hunters—just like His Royal Hotness here.” She