Chapter 10
Styx’s lair in Chicago
Roke headed down the stairs as Styx returned to his waiting Ravens.
“Charming,” he muttered as he reached the lower floor. “I’d like to shove a charming fist right into his smug face.”
It wasn’t that he was arrogant enough to assume that the Anasso was deliberately trying to piss him off. It was obvious that Styx had his hands full with this latest threat. Still, he wasn’t pleased to be back on witch duty.
He was supposed to be devoting this night to scrubbing away every thought of Sally Grace. Not giving his overactive libido even more reason to plague his day with erotic dreams.
Muttering a string of curses, Roke was only vaguely aware of his surroundings. Which explained why he’d nearly missed the male fairy who was hurrying down the hallway with a tray of food, along with a rose and several leather-bound books.
Roke came to a sharp halt, knowing beyond a doubt the overly pretty demon was rushing to be with Sally. Who else would put that smile of anticipation on the narrow face that was surrounded by a tumble of golden hair? Or the eagerness shimmering in the hazel eyes?
Although there were any number of lovely, not to mention lethal, females scattered around the mansion, most of them were mated. And not even a fairy was stupid enough to try and come between a vampire and his mate.
Or even a pure-blooded Were for that matter.
Besides, Roke recognized that vaguely bewildered expression beneath the enchantment.
That was a Sally Grace specialty.
“You,” he called out.
The fairy came to a reluctant halt, eyeing Roke with impatience. “Me?”
“Is that tray for the witch?”
“I—”
“Is it or not?”
“Yes,” the man grudgingly admitted.
“Give it to me.” Roke held out his hands. Then, when the fairy just stood there staring at him like an idiot, he snapped his fingers. “Well?”
“There’s no need to bother yourself,” the man said, stubbornly holding on to the tray. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”
Roke leaned forward, his power making the plates rattle. “That wasn’t a suggestion, fairy.”
“But—”
“Give. Me. The. Tray.” As expected the fairy hastily shoved the tray into Roke’s hands, tumbling over the rose and jostling the stack of books. Roke frowned. “What the hell is with the books?”
The fairy hunched a shoulder, his expression petulant. “I promised that I would bring her something to read. She’s bored.”
Bored? An image of how he could keep the pretty little witch entertained seared through his mind before he managed to slam shut the door on the treacherous temptation.
“This isn’t the damned Ritz.”
“I don’t mind.” A hint of eagerness returned to the narrow face. “In fact I’m happy to—”
“I mind,” Roke snapped, infuriated by the man’s obvious obsession with Sally. “You’re not to return to the dungeons, is that clear?”
The fairy had the nerve to hesitate, almost as if he was actually considering defying Roke’s command. Suicidal fey. Then, after a long moment, he gave a grudging nod. “It’s clear.”
Whirling on his heel, Roke headed toward the nearby stairs that led to the lower level. “Freaking fairies,” he muttered, ignoring the startled glances from the vampires watching the surveillance equipment lining the entrance to the lower dungeons. Waiting for the younger vampire with short, brown hair and dark eyes to jump up and open the heavy steel door, Roke swept past them and headed down the corridor between the cells.
His knee-high moccasins that were laced over his black jeans made no sound as he ghosted forward. But something must have alerted Sally that she was no longer alone. He was barely halfway down the corridor when he heard her push herself off the cot and cross to the bars of her cell.
“Lysander?” she called softly, the sweet scent of peaches filling the air.
Roke’s fingers tightened on the tray. Oh . . . hell. What was it about that maddening scent?
Annoyed as much by his instant, painful arousal as by the sound of another man’s name on her lips, Roke took the last few steps to arrive at her cell. “No, not Lysander,” he said, watching her expectant expression harden with a flare of obvious frustration.
“You,” she breathed, shoving back her tangled curls that glowed with the rich colors of autumn beneath the overhead lights.
The sort of hair a man wanted brushing against his naked skin.
“Your pet fairy has resigned his babysitting duties.”
“Resigned or was fired?”
“Take your pick.”
Her hands clenched, her chin tilted to a militant angle. “Why? I thought we agreed you wouldn’t return.”
Roke ignored her accusation. He wanted answers on what was going on between her and the fairy. “What did you do to that poor man?”
She stilled, as if she were caught off guard by his question. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“He was foaming at the mouth to get down here. I thought I was going to have to wrestle him for the honor of bringing your dinner tray.”
“So?” She licked her lips, her expression suddenly guarded. “He happens to be a gentleman. Unlike you.”
Roke studied her pale face. What was she trying to hide? “How many times has he been down here?”
“Only once.” She stepped away from the bars, her arms wrapping around her slender waist. “He came down to ask what I wanted for dinner.”
“And in that short time you managed to bewitch him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she denied with more force than was necessary. “I can’t use my magic in this cell.”
Was she joking?
His gaze made a reluctant trip over her small form, which was perfectly curved to entice a man’s appetite. It didn’t matter if he was vampire or fey.
“There’s more than one kind of magic a female can use to bewitch a male, as you well know,” he growled.
There was the slightest flicker of her lashes before her guarded expression was being replaced by a mocking smile. “Tell me, Roke, do you hate all women, or is it just me?”
Roke muttered a curse, abruptly recalling Styx’s words:
You do remember how to seduce a young, beautiful woman, don’t you . . . ?
Dammit. He was supposed to be charming the female, not pissing her off.
Shifting the tray, he waved a hand in front of the cell door, using his powers to turn the lock. As it swung open he stepped through and closed it behind him with his foot.
Entering the cell, he moved to set the tray on the narrow cot before straightening to meet her frustrated glare.
Okay, time to be charming.
Forcing his muscles to unclench, he strolled forward. “Maybe you could change my opinion,” he murmured, his gaze lowering to the sensual curve of her lips.
Sally blinked, clearly baffled by his abrupt change. “I don’t care enough to make the effort,” she at last retorted. “I prefer Lysander’s company.”
Roke battled back his surge of anger. “Forget the fairy,” he warned in soft tones. “He’s obviously too susceptible to be an adequate guard.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Because he didn’t beat me?”
He hissed, dangerously disturbed by the thought of any man daring to raise a hand to this female. “No one would dare mar that perfect skin,” he rasped, moving close enough that he could run his fingers down the bare skin of her neck.
She shivered, her eyes widening. “What are you doing?”
Fan-fucking-tastic question.
“Sit,” he muttered, lowering his hands to grasp her arms so he could steer her to the bed. Only when she was perched on the edge of the mattress did he release his hold. “Eat while it’s hot.”
Rolling her eyes, she reached for a ham sandwich and took a savage bite.
“Have you thought about taking meds for those manic mood swings of yours?” she muttered.
Mood swings? He gave a short, humorless laugh. If she truly understood his current mood she’d be hitting him upside the head with the tray.
“You have to admit you haven’t been Miss Sunshine yourself,” he countered.
“At least I have a reason for being so surly.” She polished off the sandwich and reached for another. “You? Not so much.”
With a brooding gaze he watched her work her way through the food. How the hell did such a tiny female consume so much? Weren’t humans always concerned with calories and fat content and all that crap?
Not that there was anything wrong with her slender curves, he silently conceded. They were . . . mouthwatering.
Polishing off the plate of French fries, she lifted her head to meet his unwavering gaze with a frown. “Okay, you’re freaking me out,” she snapped. “What do you want?”
“What makes you think I want anything?”
“You’re looking at me like I was a bug you’re getting ready to squish.”
“A bug?” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “You truly are an innocent if you think that’s why I’m staring.”
She surged to her feet, clearly sensing his smoldering tension if not the reason behind it. “Just answer the question.”
He studied her pale face. He logically understood what he was supposed to do.
Charm her.
Seduce her.
Lure her into revealing what she was hiding.
So, what was the problem?
He might not be as insatiable as most vampires when it came to sex, but he was more than capable of seducing a female.
More than capable.
A teasing smile, a soft confession that he’d been staring at her because she was exquisite. He would gently tuck a strand of satin hair behind her ear and apologize for his rough manners. Perhaps even lead her over to the bed and press one of the ripe strawberries between her lips before urging her back onto the mattress and—
There.
That
was the problem.
He couldn’t make a game out of seducing her. Not when the mere thought of running his hands over that pale, peach-scented skin was enough to send him up in flames.
Shit. If he wanted the truth, he was going to have to find a less perilous means of acquiring it.
Folding his arms over his chest, he met her wary gaze with a determined expression. If he couldn’t finesse her, he’d out-stubborn her.
“Tell me what you know about Gaius.”
Predictably she heaved a sigh of resignation. “For god’s sake, how many times do we have to go through this?”
“Until I’m convinced you’re telling me everything you know.”
She threw her hands in the air. “I already have.”
“Has he always been able to infect humans with his bite?” Roke closely watched the shock that rippled over her pretty face.
“What did you say?”
He frowned. Her astonishment seemed genuine enough. Of course, she might have prepared herself for the question.
“You heard me.”
“He infects humans?” She gave a shake of her head. “I’ve never heard of a vampire being able to do that.”
“Because it’s not natural.”
“I . . .” She gave another shake of her head. “What does he infect them with? A disease?”
He stepped close enough to tower over her, trying to intimidate her at the same time he was futilely pretending her warmth wasn’t seeping into his skin and heating his blood. “You would know better than I.”
Waving away his accusation, Sally jerkily turned to pace the small cell, chewing her bottom lip. “Why haven’t you caught him?”
Roke grimaced. She wasn’t acting. There was no mistaking the fear that was spiking the air. She didn’t know about Gaius’s newest trick.
Of course, he was still certain she was hiding something from him.
What better opportunity to discover just what it was?
“A little nervous, are you, witch?” he murmured. “Afraid that Gaius might suspect you came to Styx to tattle on him? Maybe wondering if he’ll come hunting for you?”
He’d expected her to be worried by his soft words. That’s why he’d chosen them, after all. But he didn’t expect her to freak out.
“Do you think he will?” she breathed, the pulse at the base of her throat fluttering in terror. Then, with a panicked sob, she was darting toward the cell door, grasping the bars as if she could pull them apart. “Dammit, you have to let me out of here.”
“Calm down,” he commanded, taken off guard by her violent response. “Even if he did manage to track you here, there’s no way he could get past Styx’s security.”
“Is that a joke?” She tried to shake the locked door. “He already got past Styx’s supposed security.”
Roke grimaced. It was true. At least in part. “Fine. Then there’s no way he’ll get past me.”
“Like you would give a shit if he decided to have a little witch snack,” she hissed. “You would probably cheer him on.”
“He’s not going to get you. You’re—” He swallowed the word “mine,” which had ridiculously formed on the tip of his tongue.
Holy hell, he was obviously losing his mind. This female was a pain in the ass who would make a man miserable even if she weren’t a witch. He felt nothing but sympathy for the schmuck who would be stuck with her.
Didn’t he?
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m what?”
With a low growl Roke moved forward, grasping her by her upper arms and shifting her away from the door. “I’ll come back for the tray later.”
“Are you kidding me?” She desperately grasped his T-shirt, her eyes wide with horror. “You can’t keep me locked up. I’m a sitting duck.”
He glanced down at her pale face, his hands unconsciously skimming down her arms to lightly encircle her wrists.
Why was she suddenly so frightened of Gaius?
“Think, Sally,” he urged in stern tones. “Where would you go where you’d be any safer?”
“I won’t stay trapped here,” she snarled. “I won’t.”
Roke parted his lips, but before he could demand to know just what was making her act like a crazed woman, he felt a sudden heat explode inside him, scorching through his veins with an incandescent force.