Oh . . . hell.
He’d known the witch was going to be trouble.
He’d known it on a cellular level.
And now she was killing him.
Nothing else could explain the sensation of his body being shattered into a thousand pieces as a light as fierce as the midday sun burst in the center of his being, transforming him even as it catapulted him toward the eternal sleep.
Magic.
A sweet, drugging magic that allowed him to smile with delight as a tidal wave of darkness crashed over him.
Sally watched in astonishment as Roke dropped to the floor with enough force to make his head bounce against the cement.
“Crap on toast, what have I done?” She fell to her knees at his side, her hand reaching to lightly touch his face.
It had been sheer panic that had released her secret magic. Certainly she hadn’t deliberately tried to enchant this vampire, not when she was convinced that he was too strong to be swayed by her meager powers.
That was why she was so angry that he’d replaced the fairy. She’d had high hopes of swaying Lysander into setting her free.
But the fear of being trapped here while Gaius, and whatever strange creature was controlling him, came hunting for her, had tipped her over some mysterious edge.
She wouldn’t become a helpless victim.
Not again.
Now, she was not only trapped in a cell, but Roke was going to be furious when he came around.
And worse, she’d revealed that she was more than just a human witch.
Dammit.
Her karma was clearly in need of a good cleansing.
Almost on cue, Roke’s thick fringe of lashes lifted to reveal the astonishing eyes that were even more pale than usual, the black rim a startling contrast.
“What the . . .” His angry words cut off as he caught sight of Sally bending over him, his expression melting from confused fury to blind adoration. “Sally?”
Oh lord.
Was it possible?
Had she actually managed to enchant the mighty vampire?
The thought she had succeeded was almost as terrifying as having failed.
“How do you feel?” she cautiously inquired.
“Good.” A slow smile curved his lips. “No.”
She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Even consumed by fear, she was nearly blinded by his stark male beauty. The lean, bronzed face with the high cheekbones and chiseled lips. The wide brow and proud nose. The dark hair that held the sheen of silk in the overhead light.
He looked too perfect to be real.
At last realizing that she was gawking at him like an idiot, she forced herself to clear her throat. “No, you don’t feel good?” she managed to rasp.
“I feel captivated.” Without warning his hands lifted to frame her face, his eyes darkening with an unmistakable hunger. “Come here, my little witch.”
Before she could react, Sally found herself being tugged downward. Instinctively her lips parted to protest, but the words were lost as Roke claimed her mouth in a kiss of unrelenting possession.
Holy shit.
As their lips met, her heart came to a shuddering halt.
It was like being hit with lightning
, she fuzzily acknowledged, forgetting to breathe as the shocking pleasure sizzled through her.
His tongue traced the line of her lower lip, his fingers plunging into her hair as he angled her head to the side.
“Roke,” she muttered, shivering as his mouth shifted to allow his fangs to scrape along the slender curve of her neck.
“I’ve wanted to taste you from the moment I caught sight of you,” he growled, his lips tormenting the pulse at the base of her neck, which was racing out of control. “This skin . . . as fine as ivory. And your scent of peaches.” His fingers tightened in her hair. “It’s driving me mad.”
They were both mad, Sally accepted as she sighed in approval. Or maybe the spell she’d woven around him had somehow caught her in its web.
In this moment, she didn’t care. She was completely lost in the blissful sensations. How had she ever called this man cold-blooded? His touch was igniting sparks of heat that threatened to consume her.
It was only the press of his fangs against her flesh that jerked her back to her senses.
“Oh . . . my god . . . no. Wait,” she hissed, pressing her hands against his chest. “No biting.”
“Why not?” he asked softly, his tongue running a path up her throat. “I hunger to taste you.”
Tantalizing pleasure swept through her. “Mmm, yes . . . I mean no.” With a sharp push, she was breaking free of his hypnotizing touch, sitting back on her heels as she pressed a hand to her throat. “I . . .”
“You?”
“I need my strength,” she said, more to remind herself than to halt Roke. For god’s sake, she was supposed to be escaping from this prison, not drowning in a sensual hunger for the man holding her captive.
Roke folded his hands beneath his head, regarding her with a sinful smile. “I like the sound of that.”
She licked her lips, which still tingled from his skillful kiss. “I mean, I need my strength so we can escape.”
“Escape?” He slowly sat upright, running a hungry glance down her body. “The only place we’re going is to my private rooms. The faster the better.”
He reached for her, but this time Sally was prepared. Scrambling to her feet, she retreated until her back hit the far wall.
Concentrate, Sally,
she warned herself.
Concentrate or die.
“Roke, please, you must listen to me.”
Regret rippled over his lean face as he rose to his feet, roughly shoving back the thick strands of his hair. “Forgive me, my sweet. I’m not usually so lacking in control.” He shook his head, his expression bemused. “You have bewitched me.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she breathed, guilt piercing her heart.
This proud warrior was going to hate her when he came to his senses and discovered what she’d done. She didn’t doubt that he would rather die than feel emotions for a skanky witch.
Of course, he already hated her, she reminded herself. So what did it matter?
Pretending that it didn’t, she made herself hold her ground as he cautiously approached, as if she were a wild animal he didn’t want to startle. Then, cupping her face in a tender hand, he rubbed a thumb over her cheek.
“We can take this as slow as you need,” he promised. “Just so long as we’re together.”
It was a spell. The warmth in his eyes. The gentleness of his touch. She knew that better than anyone. So why did it feel so real?
Crap. She thrust away the ridiculous thought, forcing herself to concentrate on the only thing that mattered.
Getting the hell out of this cell.
“Yes, but we both know that Styx won’t allow that,” she reminded him. “He thinks I’m the enemy.”
“No,” he denied. “Not the enemy.”
“Then why am I being held in this cell?”
A muscle clenched in his jaw. “I will speak with him. . . .”
“No, please, Roke.” She lifted her hands to clutch at his shoulders, her expression openly pleading. “We have to leave here.”
He frowned as her magical compulsion clashed with his loyalty to his Anasso. “Leave?”
“It’s the only way we can be together.”
Several tense minutes passed before he at last gave a grudging nod of his head. “Yes.”
She released a shaky sigh of relief. “Can you get us out of the dungeons?”
He frowned. “That’s no problem, but we’ll never be able to leave the lair without alerting Styx’s guards.”
“Once we’re away from this cell I’ll be able to use my magic,” she assured him.
There was another pause, then abruptly taking hold of her hand, he pulled her toward the cell door.
“Stay close.”
Chapter 11
North of the Louisiana wetlands
Nefri hid a grimace as they skirted past the small town. The violence that had tainted the air was slowly fading and the residents were gratefully settling in for a peaceful night.
Unfortunately, the promise of serenity did nothing to end the cold prickles of displeasure that radiated from her companion.
Santiago was in a crappy mood and he wanted to make sure he shared the misery.
Not that she was blameless,
she ruefully acknowledged.
She’d been so intent on scurrying back behind her defensive walls that she’d totally forgotten the potency of male pride.
Santiago wouldn’t consider the idea that her rigid composure might be her way of coping with the overwhelming night of passion. Or that she might not be comfortable with the realization that she’d made herself vulnerable to him in a way she hadn’t for centuries.
Of course not.
He was used to females who fawned and fluttered over him. The kind of women who stroked his ego with assurances that he was a magnificent lover and no doubt begged for the opportunity to remain in his bed.
That knowledge did nothing for her own mood and it was a relief when there was a flutter of wings and Levet floated down from a nearby tree branch.
“At last,” the tiny gargoyle complained. “I had begun to fear that you had forgotten me.”
“I couldn’t be so lucky,” Santiago snarled, stepping past Levet to head toward the truck nearly hidden by the thick brush.
Levet sniffed, moving to walk at Nefri’s side. “What crawled up his ear?”
“My ass, gargoyle,” Santiago corrected, tugging open the door of the vehicle, which looked as if it should be headed for the junkyard. ASAP. “It’s ‘what crawled up my ass.’”
“Ew.” Levet wrinkled his snout. “I do not wish to know anything concerning your nether regions.”
Santiago narrowed his eyes, his beautiful features tight with irritation. “Just get in and shut up.”
Nefri reached to pat the gargoyle on the head, her gaze never wavering from the cranky male. “Ignore him.”
Levet gave a flick of his tail. “He’s rather large to ignore.”
A humorless smile curved Santiago’s lips. “Nefri can give you lessons. She’s made an art form of ignoring what she doesn’t want to have to deal with.” He waited until she reached the truck, his finger lifting to stroke down her cheek. “Haven’t you,
cara?
”
She refused to flinch from his glare. Maybe she had been too swift to protect herself from the emotions Santiago threatened to expose. And clearly she could have been more sensitive to his male ego.
But now was hardly the time to be bickering.
“Are we going or not?” she demanded in cool tones.
“Oh, we’re going.”
“Yes, well.” Levet cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Santiago snapped, grabbing the gargoyle by one horn and tossing him into the truck.
“Mon dieu,”
Levet squeaked as he landed on the leather seat.
Rolling her eyes, Nefri rounded the back of the truck to slide into the passenger side, in a cowardly way pleased to have the gargoyle between her and Santiago.
Not that she believed he would ever try to harm her. Santiago was by nature a protector and no matter how she might infuriate him, he would never strike out. Besides, she had enough power to protect herself from any enemy.
No, she simply didn’t want to spend the next few hours rehashing her impulsive decision to share Santiago’s bed only to panic when she awoke in his arms.
It would mean exposing her scars from a past she simply wanted to forget.
With a low curse, Santiago climbed behind the steering wheel and used his powers to start the engine. Then, with a last glare at Nefri, he shoved the truck into gear and sent them jolting down the narrow road.
Once they reached the highway, Santiago pressed the accelerator to the floorboard, urging the truck into breakneck speed.
Thankful for her immortality, Nefri watched the landscape flash by, catching only blurred glimpses of tangled wetlands that eventually gave way to small farms, with the occasional town huddled in the soft glow of streetlights.
They had traveled nearly an hour in uncomfortable silence when Nefri’s brooding thoughts were interrupted by the strange sensations that suddenly filled the air.
“Santiago.”
Even as his name fell from her lips, Santiago was slowing the truck and turning onto a service road. “I feel it,” he muttered, his gaze trained on the trees that lined the recently plowed fields.
“What?” Levet stood on the seat, his expression troubled. “What is going on?”
Nefri shivered, rolling down her window to test the chill breeze.
There was the same pulse of emotion that surrounded Gaius’s lair. An unnatural coercion that could easily manipulate the feelings of both human and demon.
But this wasn’t violence that brushed over her skin and tugged at her emotions.
This was . . . fear.
A drenching, unrelenting fear.
“It’s not the same,” she muttered.
“No,” Santiago agreed, turning the truck onto an even smaller path, downshifting as they were forced to dodge fallen tree trunks and potholes large enough to swallow them whole. “But it’s close enough we have to track it down.”
“Yes,” she agreed, clenching her teeth as he cut through an overgrown meadow to halt near an abandoned schoolhouse.
They crawled out of the truck, all three of them studying the three-story brick building with a rusting tin roof. The cement steps were crumbling and most of the windows had been smashed, while the double front doors hung at drunken angles.
The surrounding playground had long ago conceded defeat to the encroaching weeds, although someone had cut a path around the swing set and metal slide. No doubt the same someone who’d built the smoldering bonfire and brought the keg of beer.
Allowing her powers to flow through the thick air, Nefri swiftly sensed the human hiding in the building. She lifted one finger and Santiago nodded.
“I’ll circle around and come in from the rear,” he said, pulling loose the sword he kept strapped to his back.
She instinctively reached to touch his arm, an uninvited concern clenching her heart. “Whoever is inside is close to breaking,” she murmured, able to feel the human’s rising hysteria. “Be careful.”
With a cocky smile Santiago melted into the darkness, moving with the fluid speed of a trained warrior. Nefri shook her head in annoyance. Why was she worried about him? Not only was he more than capable of taking care of himself, but she’d already decided that she was going to consider him as nothing more than a necessary tool to achieve her goals.
Hadn’t she?
Refusing to admit that she was finding the task of cutting her connection to the aggravating male more difficult than it should be, Nefri turned to glance down at the gargoyle at her side. “Levet, could you keep watch?” she asked. “This might be a trap.”
“Oui.”
Levet studied the surrounding trees before glancing back to the schoolhouse. “I’ll be on the roof. It should give me the best vantage point.”
“Contact me if anything approaches.”
“Oui.”
Confident that nothing could sneak past the gargoyle, Nefri crossed the playground to climb the stairs and enter the building.
She paused in the small vestibule. Ahead of her a set of stairs led to the upper floors, the stones worn in the middle by the thousands of small feet that had climbed them over the years. To the side of the stairs, a narrow hall led to the inner classrooms, which reeked of rotting wood and mold.
And fear.
Bone-deep, soul-crushing fear.
With a shiver, she moved down the hallway, following the overwhelming sensations.
“Santiago?”
“I found her,” he said, his voice low and soothing.
Nefri stepped into the dark room, her gaze skimming the overturned desks and decaying books that were scattered upon the warped planks of the floor.
Weaving her way through the debris, she found Santiago seated beneath a cracked chalkboard, a young human female shivering in his lap.
“Oh.” Nefri studied the girl, who appeared no more than sixteen in human years. She was nearly naked with only a tiny thong to cover her thin body. Her long blond hair was tangled and her face coated with dust and tears. But, it was the unmistakable wounds on her neck that caught Nefri’s attention. The girl had been bitten by a vampire. “The poor creature,” she murmured.
Santiago glanced up as she approached. “Can you watch her?”
“Why?”
“I need to make sure there are no hidden surprises.”
“I should do that,” she countered. “You remain with the girl.”
His brows snapped together. “Nefri.”
“I won’t take any risks, I promise.” She interrupted the inevitable argument, knowing this wasn’t about who had the most power, but his primitive need to protect her. “Only I can break through illusions. Besides, the human has attached herself to you. She’s likely to panic if you leave her now.”
His jaw tightened, but he gave a reluctant nod. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I’ll try to question the female.”
She lowered her gaze to the girl, who was clinging to Santiago like a barnacle, her soft whimpers muffled against his chest.
“Can you reach her? She appears . . . broken.”
He ran a gentle hand over the girl’s hair. “You have your talents and I have mine.”
Nefri didn’t doubt him for a minute.
For all of Santiago’s swagger, there was something unquestionably comforting about his presence.
A safe harbor a woman could depend on . . .
She took an abrupt step backward as the dangerous words whispered through her heart. “I won’t be long,” she muttered, turning to hurry from the room.
Speaking the words of power that would break any lingering illusions, Nefri moved through the remaining classrooms before heading upstairs. She concentrated on the gaping holes in the floors as well as the steel lockers that threatened to topple above the unwary. Anything to avoid examining her unruly emotions.
Santiago was right about one thing.
She’d become a master at sticking her head in the sand.
The ultimate ostrich.
It took only a few minutes to make her way through the upper rooms, but slipping out a broken window, she stood on the fire escape and motioned toward the gargoyle, who was on the highest peak of the sharply angled roof. “Anything?” she asked.
“Non.”
Levet’s wings fluttered, shimmering in colors of blue and crimson and gold in the chilled moonlight. “Nothing is stirring, not even a mouse.”
She paused at his odd words before giving a slow nod. He wasn’t exaggerating. The surrounding countryside should be alive with nocturnal animals foraging for food and the predators that hunted them.
Instead an echoing silence spoke of a complete lack of wildlife.
There wasn’t even the buzz of an insect.
The spreading fear had affected even the most basic of animal forms.
“There’s a girl inside we must question,” she at last said. “Can you remain on guard?”
Despite the gargoyle’s unease, he gave a ready nod, his courage astonishing for such a small creature. “
Oui
. You can depend upon me.”
Without conscious thought she reached to brush a light hand over the tip of his wing. It was only when she was climbing back through the window that she realized how natural it felt to make physical contact.
Something she hadn’t allowed herself for centuries.
Obviously being in this world was altering more than just her powers.
Affection, desire, concern . . .
What was next?
Love?
With a shake of her head, Nefri made her way back to the lower floor. How often did she have to warn herself that now was not the time to be distracted by such foolishness?
In fact,
never
seemed like a good time.
Smoothing her expression into a calm mask, she entered the classroom and crossed to where Santiago remained seated on the floor with the human cradled in his lap. “The building is clear,” she assured him.
“This is Melinda.” He lifted his head to send her a speaking glance as the girl trembled in his arms. Nefri halted, belatedly realizing her presence was adding to the girl’s distress. “Sssh,
mija,
” Santiago murmured, running a comforting hand over her tangled hair. “No one is going to hurt you.”
Nefri slowly bent down to sit on the floor. Towering over the child wasn’t going to help. “Does she know what happened to her?”
“We were just getting to that, weren’t we, Melinda?” His attention returned to the female, who gave a violent shake of her head.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know it was horrible for you,” he sympathized in soothing tones.
“It was worse than horrible.”
“Let’s return to the beginning,” Santiago urged. “Can you do that for me?”
Melinda shuddered, but clearly as susceptible as every other female to Santiago’s potent charm, she sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
“Good girl. How long have you been here?”
Her brow wrinkled in genuine confusion. “I’m not sure. A day, maybe two. Does it matter?”
“No. Everything’s fine.” He tilted back her chin, studying her pale, tearstained face. “Why were you at this place?”
Nefri watched the girl struggle to swallow, the sound of her pounding heart thundering through the room.
“It was a party. A birthday party for Brian,” she at last managed to rasp. “We always come here because the police never drive out this far.”