Demon’s Revenge (High Demon #5)(30)
Author: Connie Suttle

Erland didn’t say anything, but he harbored a resentment against Griffin, Wylend’s son. Lissa would barely tolerate Griffin, her father; he’d brought so much emotional harm to Erland’s female mate. If Griffin hadn’t interfered long ago with a kidnapping, substituting Roff’s son, Toff, for Wyatt to prevent his abduction as an infant, then Wyatt might still be alive. So many things had hinged on that one action. Erland at times figured that event had altered the timeline in some way, although he’d never said it aloud.

"I should have told you about the letter before I sent it. I should have known better than to strike out at Reah, who’d just suffered the loss of a child through miscarriage, before she was injured protecting Corolan. I felt slighted and I wanted to hit back, just like a child. Now I have no heir and I have no Queen. Will some conspire against me, as they did my father? Take me down, leaving Karathia in chaos? Erland, tell me what to do," Wylend moaned.

"Stop fretting, my King." Erland took the glass from Wylend’s hand and set it on the bedside table. "Come, I will hold you tonight." Wylend allowed his head to droop on Erland’s chest.

Rylend Morphis was more than glad that the voyeur booths were soundproof. Mostly it was a bevy of single males inside them, whooping, catcalling and drinking as they watched couples of all kinds having sex. They could hear as well as see what was occurring in the rooms below and were laughing at the sounds. Ry wanted to shake his head as he observed, but kept his emotions tightly under control. He imagined that if it were only a single male inside the booth, that mast***ation would be the response. With a fellow audience, it might not happen quite as often.

Three sets of booths had been inspected already, and Ry had sent messages to his supervisor, saying that they needed to be cleaned more often. Spilled drinks, the scent of se**n and remnants of consumed meals were present in several. Each row of booths was set above ten rooms designed for sexual activities. One set remained to be inspected, and they were in the restricted area. Only the visitors who’d purchased upgraded packages were allowed inside those.

Ry left the one he was in after tapping notes in his comp-vid, then walked down the hall and presented his employee chip to the guard standing outside the restricted booths. The guard waved him through after scanning the chip necklace. Steeling himself, Ry opened the first d Kd t cleaneoor. What he found inside was a bit surprising, after the other booths he’d visited.

Only three men occupied this one, watching a particularly pretty young woman with a man Ry imagined was employed by Stellar Winds. He was very well endowed and looked to be trained in the art. The girl was tempted and teased, slowly and surely by her lover, making her beg for release.

Each of the three men held comp-vids in their hands. Ry couldn’t see what was on the screens; they were keyed to privacy. Two of the men were tapping their screens occasionally. If they were there to watch, Ry couldn’t imagine what would pull them away from the sex happening below. They were older, too, than those normally visiting Stellar Winds.

Ry left and went to the next booth. No one was inside this one; one woman was with two men in the room below. Three of the ten booths in the restricted section were occupied, and only the first one had more than two inside. All the booths were clean and well-maintained, so he gave them a clear pass and went on to his next assignment.

"That smells wonderful," Perdil breathed in the scent of the freshly-baked chocolate cake as I pulled it from the oven. The cake wouldn’t be frosted, that would alter the taste and experience of the dessert. The ice cream was at the perfect temperature inside the freezer; I’d made enough to serve twenty if necessary. The oxberries were large, beautiful and sweet, the raspberries delicious and the sauce was perfect.

Everything was ready to be served in half a click, just as Zendeval Rjjn had requested. Perdil was hovering, watching my every move. I’d been listening to kitchen conversations all day, and learned that some of the assistants had plans to go to a brothel at the Lemon Sea, one of five resorts Zendeval managed.

"Plate up the dessert," Jerves almost ran into the kitchen. The important guests had gone through the meal Master Cook Crade prepared faster than anyone thought they might. I quickly cut eight thin slices of cake, placed the berries and mint sprig, sprinkled the cake with gold flakes and then scooped the gishi fruit ice cream onto the plates last of all.

"Get it out and hurry," I ordered the four waiters who’d followed Jerves into the kitchen.

"Here it is, our newest and most expensive dessert," Zendeval nodded at the four waiters as they placed dessert plates in front of each of their eight guests. Nedrizif, upon hearing the gishi fruit dessert would be served, had included himself at the private dinner. That was something he seldom did, as he despised most of them.

"Very nice to look at, but does it taste—oh, yes." Dantel Schuul was nearly in raptures as he dipped up a bit of the cake and ice cream and placed it in his mouth.

"Daddy, is this gishi fruit ice cream?" Darletta had only taken a small bite. She wouldn’t eat any dessert unless it was perfect. She dipped up a bigger bite the second time.

"This is gishi fruit ice cream, served exclusively by Galedaro’s," Zendeval announced proudly. "The recipe was developed by our pastry and dessert cook, and we will serve this for an additional charge of five hundred credits."

"Worth every bit of that," Nedrizif had eaten his ice cream first and was only now eating the cake with the berries. "Can we get more ice cream?"

"Of course," Zen jerked his head at a waiter, wh K a ot;o rushed back to the kitchen. Master Pastry Cook Perdil came out with the second servings of ice cream. "Master Perdil was your dessert cook for the evening," Zen said.

"This dessert will be a status symbol," Dantel Schuul declared. "Perhaps we should offer a shirt or some other memento as well, telling the Alliance that the one wearing it was able to afford the most expensive dessert available."

"I agree," another of the owners said. "I think we should call this sex by dessert and slap that logo onto the shirt."

"It’s certainly better than the last sex I had," another member of the party laughed. "Add it to the menu immediately, and we’ll get our ad people on it."

"I will," Zen nodded obediently.

"How was your day?" Ry had a headache, I could tell right away, but he was asking me how my day had gone. Sitting on one of only two barstools at the small kitchen island, he held his head in his hands as he spoke. Ry dropped his hands and blinked pitifully at me as I approached.