Remi forced herself to bark out a laugh, attempting a tactic she hoped would work. "Do you really think me so weak, as to assume that I'm unable to control my own slave? He isn't saying anything that he isn't allowed to say."

Lord Wallathore fixed his trembling lips in a hard, thin line and attempted to steel his gaze. "You're threatening us."

"Nah, I just happen to have a sense of humour. I also don't have a stick up my ass," she replied, becoming annoyed with herself as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She felt like biting her tongue until it bled. Insulting these men wouldn't do her any favours.

Again, quite a few people gasped in horror at her words, bristling to themselves.

Even Remi herself wasn't sure where she was getting all this confidence from. She was in a room full of the city's most powerful men—absolute psychopaths, and yet she was speaking without fear. It was going to get her killed.

She supposed it probably had something to do with the Icix leaning casually against the wall behind her, watching her with his beautiful, icy eyes. She wanted him to know that she was different from the rest of these men, and that she didn't support all the wrong things they did, and that she was strong enough to stand up for those who couldn't.

Remi decided to get straight to the point. She leaned forward in her seat, propping up her elbows on the glossy table and resting her chin on her hands. "I'm going to be direct with you all, because all this beating around the bush is unproductive."

"Do tell," Lord Corinth muttered, rolling his eyes at her, as if she were a fly wasting his time and he couldn't wait to swat her out of existence. He clearly didn't view her as a threat.

"As a reward for his obedience, I give my Icix slave freedom to do as he wishes, as long as his wishes aren't dissimilar from my own. Lord Gallanthus died because he massacred almost an entire race of creatures. And truly, who was I to oppose his death? His mutilated wives wouldn't have."

Lord Juke, a renowned weapons dealer, raised a skeptical, white brow. "He provided those wives with life, gave them food and shelter. Surely that's enough."

Remi scoffed. "Food, to replenish them after he'd beat them so bad that they couldn't fulfil his desires any further. Shelter? More like a prison so that they couldn't escape his grasp. In my opinion, some fates are worse than death. However, it seems as though we've gotten off topic."

"Indeed," Cynfael agreed, pursing his lips. "Go on, Goldridge. Get to the point."

She nodded at him. "Although I don't agree with many of the things that most of you do, none of you have done anything to personally impede my goals. Therefore, I have no reason to come after you. If any of you decide to get in my way, that will change—and I'm sure that you'd return the favour if I were to get in the way of one of you."

"Of course we would," Lord Sookie cackled, clutching his aching stomach. Though his smile was wide, child-like, and teasing, his eyes were cold and deadly as he spoke, his voice cheery, "You'd be dead in an instant."

"As is to be expended," Remi nodded, appearing cool and collected on the outside, but inwardly deeply rattled by the young-looking lord. "That is the way things work."

"And your Icix?" Lord Wallathore blurted, his beady eyes on the dark creature watching his master like a hawk. "Does he wish us dead?"

Remi shrugged, craning her neck to look back at Killure.

She parted her lips to speak, but stopped short upon meeting his gaze. Something warm swirled within them as he looked at her—something she'd never seen before.

Pride.

He was proud of her.

Her chest swelled happily in silent reply.

Remi quickly recollected herself. "Killure, have any of these men done anything to personally offend you? Speak freely." She forced her tone to sound bored.

Killure pretended to think about it for a few moments, drawing out the silence in the large room for dramatic effect. Remi had to force herself not to roll her eyes at him.

He finally shook his head, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips. His two upper fangs protruded from between his lips.

Remi noticed goosebumps spread over the bare arms of Lord Wallathore and a couple other lord's who'd remained silent the entire time, in reply to Killure's demonic grin. The fear in their eyes became even more noticeable when her slave licked his lips. Since Icixes were notorious for devouring the flesh of humans, these men probably thought Killure was going to eat them.

Maybe he wanted to eat them. Who knew. Icixes were known for their desire for human flesh.

"Good," Remi drawled. "Then that's settled. No one will be dying today."

"None of us will be, anyway," Lord Corinth pursed his lips. "Your arrogance is getting on my nerves. Keep it up and you might find yourself without a head."

Remi stiffened in reply. She knew the lord meant every word he said.

"My apologies," she smiled pleasantly. "T'was not my intention to come across as arrogant. I will try to be more aware of the way I speak from this point forward."

In Remi's peripheral vision, she saw claws gently come to hover just above her shoulders. Killure. Heat radiated from his body, and his masculine scent overwhelmed her senses, making it hard to think.

He brought his head down near hers, and his lips teased her ears with feathery caresses as he said, "I've been smelling smoke for some time now."

His words startled her from her trance, slapping her face with syllables of doom. Remi's eyes instantly widened, and the hairs of her arms stood up.

"A fire is very nearly upon us," his silky smooth laugh rang melodically in her ear. He spoke in such a casual manner that Remi wondered if he was even serious.

A few moments later, Lord Cynfael raised his nose and breathed in the terrifying scent, his eyes widening in surprise. "Smoke."

All doubts left her mind when a hint of smokey air teased her nostrils with its venom.

The building was on fire.

And they were in the centre of the sub-level basement floor, with floors and floors of people above them.

White, hot fear instantly raced up Remi's spine, scorching tendrils encompassing her wrists and binding her in paralyzing shackles. Her body began trembling, but she couldn't get up and run.

Fire was every Designer's biggest weakness. Burns could never be properly healed. And, if a Designer were to die, another Designer could not use their ashes to revive them, because ashes were just ashes, and the only thing that could be created from them were more ashes. Designers need something to work with in order to create more, or modify that something.

If Remi caught on fire and burned to death, there would be no hope of coming back to life. She would truly be dead.

Sweat beads formed at her brow, and her entire body felt hot—as if she was already on fire.

Mutedly, she could hear the screams and frantic voices vibrating through her ears, the scraping of chairs as people flung them aside to try and flee, but those noises were pushed to the back of her mind, hardly noticeable. Many of these men had been using the services of the Goldridges to extend their lives for many years, and didn't feel like dying for good today either.

But Remi could hardly focus on them.

Her vision felt tunnelled. Remi's eyes seemed to pulse painfully,

Until now, the possibility of very real, very permanent death had never really occurred to her. She'd never been scared of dying, because she knew she would alway be brought back to life.

Very few things she did, very few bad situations she put herself in, ever posed a true risk to her life.

And now, she was faced with true death. A horrible, painful death that would permanently erase her from existence.

And that thought absolutely terrified her.

Although her legs itched to move, buzzing in aggravation, and her mind screamed at her to stand up and get out of the building as quick as possible, Remi was paralyzed. Her muscles had become dead weights that she was not strong enough to lift.

It was Killure's voice that finally snapped her out of her paralyzed state. "I don't particularly feel like carrying you, you know."

Remi looked to him in surprise. "You're still here?" She would have expected him to have run for safety by now, instead of waiting for her as the burning flames neared them.

He gave her an indifferent shrug, glancing away. "If you die, I die. Therefore, let's take our leave."

Oh, right. The bonding.

Remi nodded firmly. She had someone depending on her to live.

If she died, she would be killing another. Someone she . . . cared about.

And Remi would be damned before she'd let that happen.