Free Master Unchained (Stealth Guardians Book 2) by Tina Folsom Page A

glowered at his demons. Not a single one of them dared look at him. But he’d teach these cowards yet how to rule the world. “Look at me!”
    Their heads shot up and they followed his command, afraid of him, just like they should be. It was the only way to rule. By fear and intimidation. And by example.
    He pulled his dagger from the sheath at his hip, a weapon forged in the Dark Days, and the only kind of weapon capable of extinguishing the life of a demon, and plunged it in his captive’s heart. The gurgling sound coming from the dying demon was accompanied by the gasps of the assembled. With satisfaction that his demonstration was yielding the desired result, Zoltan pulled the dagger from the dead body and wiped the blade on his long black coat. Then he tossed the lifeless shell of the demon into the crowd, watching how they shrank back so as not to be splattered with their comrade’s green blood. As if coming in contact with it would seal their fate, too.
    “Good, then we understand each other,” Zoltan growled. “And the first man who brings me the name of the imbecile who initiated the attack on the councilwoman will be rewarded.” He narrowed his eyes at his subjects. “The second will die.”
    With that threat, he turned on his booted heel and marched out of the Great Hall and toward his private quarters. When he entered, he slammed the door shut so it would echo through the entire labyrinth of tunnels that connected the various caves. Everybody needed to know that the Great One meant business.
    Finally alone, he tossed his coat on a bench and exhaled. With it, a wave of pain hit him and he pressed his palms against his temples to ease the pressure in his head. He hated these attacks, always had. But he’d hidden them well for decades, knowing that showing weakness would be his downfall. He knew of no demon who’d ever experienced this kind of pain, which seemed similar to a human’s migraine. For all he knew it was common, and he had to assume that just like he hid these episodes, other demons did, too.
    For several minutes, he felt paralyzed and utterly helpless, the pain so violent that he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. So far, he’d always felt the attacks’ approach, which gave him enough time to find a private place so nobody would bear witness to his weakness. He could only hope that it would remain that way.
    The attacks had become more frequent ever since he’d taken over as the Great One. More painful, too, as if something inside him was revolting and pushing back against the mounting pressure his position came with. But he wouldn’t let this handicap stop him.
    When the pain finally eased, Zoltan walked into the bathroom. The floor, walls, and ceiling were of volcanic stone. In one corner, a shower and a tub were molded into the rock, in the other a toilet. The sink was similarly fashioned, but one item from the human world had been added: a mirror. He looked at his reflection now. No outward signs of his debilitating condition showed. He took a deep breath. It was time to mend what his demons had screwed up.
    While he had no qualms about killing humans—far from it—he knew that killing Councilwoman Wallace wasn’t a smart idea. It would raise too many suspicions and turn her into a martyr. And martyrs were harder to eradicate than humans, who were merely flesh and blood. Because you couldn’t kill a martyr; they lingered in the minds of people. It was better to discredit the lovely Tessa Wallace and thus eradicate her chance of becoming mayor, because if she turned the city away from the violence, hatred, and anger that was brewing in Baltimore, the demons would lose ground that they’d fought long and hard for. Finally it was time to claim the city and turn it into a demon stronghold so its policies could infect other cities in the state, then spread farther…
    Yeah, he liked that. And if his subjects were too dense to figure out how to accomplish this, he’d have to do it