“So. This is where you’ve been hiding out.”
Envy didn’t turn around at the sound of his brother Lust’s voice. “Let me guess. Pride’s been gossiping like a courtier?”
“Probably. But I heard it from Gluttony, who mentioned hearing it from Greed.”
His brothers were no better than the irksome columnists.
Gluttony at the very least ought to know better—he was currently involved in a war with his own reporter in the Seven Circles.
“With the curse broken,” Envy drawled, “I would have thought you’d all have something better to do with your time. Though I can’t really blame you—I am the most interesting of our brothers.”
He called for Goodfellow and instructed him to put the painting carefully in his bedchamber. Envy had warded the room so no one could enter without his permission. It should be safe enough there.
“My visit to the Shifting Isles is hardly scintillating for you, though,” he continued once Goodfellow had departed. Lust had made his way over to toy with the velvet drapes. “Surely you ought to be more intrigued by a certain death goddess than my… reprieve. Vengeance and lust do work so nicely together.”
Lust chuckled, never one to fall prey to needling.
“From what I’ve heard, she’s preoccupied with her puppies.” Envy rolled his eyes at the cavalier mention of the werewolf pack. “Even if she weren’t involved with that drama, I rather like my cock attached to my body at the end of the day. Plus, the little game you’re currently involved in is much more interesting. Is it true an artist castrated you?”
Envy touched the jeweled dagger at his hip, contemplating returning to the Seven Circles solely to castrate Pride.
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but rest assured, I am still the most well-endowed sibling.”
“Debatable, but the masquerade you’re hosting is enticing enough. My invitation seems to have gotten lost—an oversight I rectified for you by arriving early. I’m sure my influence will make it legendary.”
Lust’s voice held a note of teasing, always a sign of trouble. He’d finally moved away from the drapes and was considering the carvings of the mantel far too closely.
“Consider me your lustful goddemon, here to turn this into the most debauched event this realm has ever seen. Imagine all those stuffy, buttoned-up lords and ladies giving in to their pleasures…” Lust’s tone turned wistful. “Your staff will be cleaning the tables and walls for weeks.”
Camilla’s face crossed Envy’s mind, her eyes closed in rapture as someone dropped to their knees before her, tasting her sweet desire as she rode their face. For some reason, he pictured this occurring right on his dining room table.
“No.” Envy finally turned, giving his brother a hard look. “Absolutely—”
“You!”
The door to Envy’s studio crashed open, his second-in-command striding in after the little hell beast who’d charged in before him, silver eyes flashing.
“How dare you.”
Alexei tossed his hands up. “I tried to stop her.”
Envy flicked his attention over the artist, ignoring the giddy curiosity on Lust’s face. Camilla’s silver hair was arranged into an intricate knot held in place by a paintbrush, and her gown was a deep, sultry plum. If it weren’t for the lightning in her eyes, threatening to strike him down where he stood, he’d have paid her a compliment. Camilla knew what colors to pair to elicit the most pleasing results, and her creativity extended well beyond paint on canvas.
“Try harder. Miss Antonius is all of five feet and a handful of inches,” he finally said. “If you cannot handle her, Alexei, perhaps we ought to reconsider your position.”
“You will do no such thing,” Camilla said. “Aside from the promise of a vicious assault on his groin, I also threatened to bite him if he stood in my way.”
Lust made a strangled sound.
“I see.” Envy schooled his features into bland interest, giving away none of the amusement he felt at the thought of Camilla unknowingly sinking her teeth into a vampire.
He also could not recall a time when anyone had dared to give him a direct command.
Camilla stared up at him in challenge.
Lust let loose a low chuckle. “You must be the reason he’s in such a foul mood.”
“Pardon me, and you are?” Camilla asked, her tone still frosty as she looked Lust over, seeming less than impressed.
A considerable feat given that Envy’s brother was the prince who ruled over pleasure, and his very presence usually incited skirt-lifting or trouser-dropping admiration within seconds.
Lust appeared wildly amused—and far too intrigued—by her lack of swooning. Envy felt the magic of his brother’s sin slowly circle the artist, testing.
He gritted his teeth.
Lust bowed over her hand, letting a bit more of his sin out as his lips brushed across her gloved knuckles.
“His better-looking brother, naturally.”
“Charmed.” Camilla wrenched her hand away, then returned that impressive glare to Envy.
She hadn’t been affected by Lust’s power at all.
“I demand a private audience at once.”
Lust flashed him a surprised look, clearly taken aback too by her complete disregard.
Envy raised a brow, then nodded to his brother and Alexei. “Very well.”
Both men seemed cowed enough by Camilla’s entrance to heed the request.
Once they’d closed the door, he leaned against the table where his drink sat untouched, puzzled by her ability to withstand a demon prince’s influence.
“For someone who wishes to avoid ruination, demanding to be alone with me, unchaperoned, seems quite risky, especially after what I said last night. Unless of course you’re here to fulfill that naughty fantasy.”
He was curious to see whether she’d confront him about that.
She did not rise to the bait, instead pinning him in place with those moonlike eyes.
“Where is the forgery?”
“I assume you mean The Seduction of Evelyn Gray?”
“Do not play a game with me, my lord.” Camilla advanced, only stopping when her skirts brushed against his knees. “Vexley visited me earlier.”
Even though Vexley was nothing more than a pox on a pig’s ass, irrational jealousy seared through him.
“I am disinterested in any lovers’ quarrel you might be having.”
“How unsurprising. It’s safe to assume you’re even less interested in the threats of bodily injury that were made with his hand around my throat, my lord. As you cannot be bothered with all that, just tell me where the forgery is so I can collect it and be on my way.”
Envy stilled.
The heart he assumed to be shriveled and black pounded furiously as he looked Camilla over more carefully.
“He hurt you?”
One word, one look of confirmation, and Envy would have his demon blade in Vexley’s gut within the hour.
Camilla drew herself up, glaring. “Not this time, but he has threatened far worse if the forgery is not returned immediately.”
“That will not happen.” His voice was laced with its own violence.
Camilla jerked back, her eyes rounding as she looked him over closely, seeming to understand that he meant it.