Page 81 of Guardian

She swallowed her disgust and gave a tight nod. She had no choice but to obey.

It took several minutes walking through the maze of interconnected tunnels to reach another cave. This one had several access points, though there were no doors. A chandelier with at least two dozen candles hung from the ceiling, where a long table served as the centerpiece of the room. At least ten chairs surrounded the stone table, but only two places were set at one end of it. Like a gentleman, Zoltan pulled back the chair for her and motioned her to sit. But she wasn’t fooled. This was all part of him playing the civilized man so he could seduce her to his side.

Winter sat in the proffered chair and watched Zoltan take the seat at the head of the table.

“So, this is all yours,” she said. “Your kingdom. What do they call you? The devil? Lord of the Underworld?”

He gave a half-hearted smile and unfolded the napkin, laying it across his lap. “They call me the Great One. And no, I’m not the devil. But I am Lord of the Underworld.” He made an all-encompassing motion with his hand. “It might not look like much to you, but this is a vast empire, one I’m expanding with each day.”

Clearly, Zoltan liked to talk about his accomplishments, just like any despot did. Good. She would keep him talking. “How vast? Are we talking a few acres? Like a small European principality?"

He cast her an assessing look. “Nothing about me or my empire is small. You’d do well to remember that.”

She didn’t miss the sexual innuendo in his words. She lifted her chin in disdain, ready to come back with a retort, but footsteps coming from one of the entrances distracted her and made her turn her head.

“Ah, dinner,” Zoltan said.

Two demons carried trays, looking entirely uncomfortable, as if they’d never done this before. They placed the trays awkwardly on the table, lifting the covers from the various bowls and plates. Delicious smells drifted to her. And not only that. The presentation of the dishes was something she would only expect in a fancy restaurant.

“The chef has a Michelin star,” Zoltan explained.

She snapped her head to him, annoyed that he’d noticed her appreciation. It had been a reflex, and it would have no bearing on how she felt about the Underworld or the demons.

“I didn’t know the Underworld gave out Michelin stars.”

“We don’t,” Zoltan said. “But I wanted only the best for you. So I convinced this chef to work for me.”

“Convinced?” She could imagine what that had looked like.

A chuckle came from Zoltan. “Don’t worry, I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

“How original. So your favorite movie is The Godfather?”

“You’re very witty. I’m glad. It will make for many animated dinner conversations. I’ve lacked good company down here.” He motioned to the two demons who still stood near the table, waiting. “What do you still want?” he growled, his voice like that of an angry dictator. “Get lost!”

The two demons replied, “Yes, oh Great One!” then hurried out of the dining room.

“Apologies,” Zoltan said. “It’s hard to train them.” When she didn’t answer, he pointed to the plates. “Please, help yourself.”

They began eating. Winter wasn’t particularly hungry, but forced herself to take a little bit from each plate so as not to anger her host. Zoltan on the other hand had a healthy appetite and devoured large amounts of food.

“My subjects tell me that the Stealth Guardians were trying to turn you against us with their fake news about us.”

“Fake news?” Was he serious?

“It’s not all black and white like the guardians would have you believe. The demons aren’t all bad, nor are the guardians all good. Even they kill when it’s in their interest.”

“You mean they kill people like you. Demons. Monsters.”

“Oh, they do that, yes. But they kill others too. Innocents. People that might expose them. People that they deem a danger to them. They claim it’s for the greater good. But who decides what the greater good is?”

He looked at her as if he really sought an answer from her, as if it wasn’t a rhetorical question. She took the bait. “The victors write the history books.”

“Exactly. The war isn’t over, so who knows what the greater good is? Who says the way of life the guardians are trying to protect is the right way? One species’ terrorist is another species’ freedom fighter. We’re the freedom fighters. We fight for the right of every human to choose their destiny, not be dictated by morals and conventions or told what is right and what is wrong.”

“That’s your opinion. You support death and destruction. You feed off fear and evil. And you want to make me believe that your way will give humans a true choice? I don’t have to be a psychic to know that you’re wrong. You instigate evil in the world.”

“And the guardians are choir boys?” he shot back.

Winter hesitated. She knew they weren’t. Logan had committed an evil act. Killed an innocent, her grandmother. And he’d lied about it. Had kept the truth from her.

“See,” Zoltan said, leaning in, his voice soothing again, “they’re not all good either. They act in their self-interest too. And they do hurt people. Everybody does. There’s nobody truly good in this world. Everybody has a dark side. And everybody tries to hide it. My subjects and I are different. We have evolved. We are free because we don’t suppress our dark side. We don’t lie about what we are. We just are. Everybody else is just lying to themselves.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t accept that. He was trying to manipulate her. She couldn’t allow it. She had to push back. “You have a very skewed view of the world and the humans who inhabit it. There is good in this world. I’ve seen good. And I’ve seen evil. And I know the difference.”

“Do you? You’re not the only one who thought so at first. But everybody changes their mind in the long run. Even those people you think are good through and through. All you need to do is give them a good reason to change their mind.” He put his napkin on the table. “Shall I tell you a story?”

Winter looked at him and knew that she wouldn’t like whatever he was about to tell her.