Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) (3 page)

“I will do my best.”

Siljar suddenly widened her eyes in a poor attempt at innocence and said, “Oh, perhaps I should warn you.”

Nefri stilled, her predator instincts on full alert. “What?”

“The vampires know that Gaius survived.”

“And?”

“I told Styx to keep his meddling nose out of Commission business.”

She hid her hands behind her back so Siljar couldn’t see she was clenching them in frustration.

“Which, of course, was the perfect guarantee to make sure he meddles,” she murmured softly.

“Naturally.”

Nefri didn’t miss the hint of satisfaction in her companion’s voice. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“In good time.”

“Siljar.”

Intent on discovering what disaster she was being forced to walk into, Nefri nearly lost her legendary calm when two small shapes abruptly appeared directly beside her.

Good . . . lord. There’d been no shift in air pressure that would warn of an opening portal, or a prickle of heat that usually went along with magic.

Just two creatures stepping out of thin air.

Taking an instinctive step back, Nefri assessed the danger of the intruders. One was obviously related to Siljar. Actually, she was nearly a replica with the same heart-shaped face and large black eyes. Only her hair was blond rather than silver and her eyes lacked the solemn wisdom of the Oracle.

Her companion, on the other hand, who was barely three feet tall, was obviously a gargoyle despite the fact he had large, gossamer wings that shimmered in shades of crimson and blue with gold veins. His features were suitably gargoyle-ish with gray eyes and a pair of stunted horns.

This had to be the infamous Levet, she silently acknowledged.

The gargoyle who’d been vital in destroying the Dark Lord while she’d been unconscious. Although at the moment he looked more like a petulant child, with his wings drooping and his tail twitching while the younger version of Siljar shook a finger in his face.

“I told you that it’s too soon for you to leave your bed,” she chastised, clearly continuing a long-standing argument. “Mother, would you tell him?”

The Oracle heaved the sort of sigh that could only come from a mother. “Yannah, how many times have I warned you not to interrupt when I have company?”

So, this was Siljar’s daughter, Nefri realized, her unease shifting to a wry amusement.

Yannah turned her head to glower at her mother, but her finger remained pointed in Levet’s face. “He won’t listen to me.”

“Well, dear, he is a male,” Siljar soothed. “They rarely listen to good sense. It has something to do with their unbalanced hormones.”

The gargoyle’s long tail snapped at the insult. “Hey, I am standing right here.”

Siljar sent him a confused glance. “Yes, I know. You are not invisible.”

Levet sniffed. “I am also not
un bébé
.”

Yannah turned back, her hands planted on her hips. “You were nearly killed.”

“And now I am well.” Levet lifted his hands.
“Voilà
.
”

“You’re still weak.”

“Weak?” The gargoyle went rigid, manly outrage tightening his ugly features. “I have the strength of a . . . of a . . . very large and very dangerous demon. And my magic is
formidable
.” He lifted his hands. “Shall I demonstrate?”

“No!” Siljar and Yannah cried in unison.

“Fine, then stop saying that I am weak,” Levet muttered.

Belatedly accepting that the tiny gargoyle possessed the same bullheaded temperament as every other male, Yannah allowed her lower lip to quiver. “Why don’t you just admit the truth?”

Levet narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing he was about to be outmaneuvered. “What truth?”

“You’re simply trying to get away from me.”

He hunched a shoulder. “Absurd.”

“It’s not absurd. You’re just—”

Siljar rolled her eyes as she stepped forward. “Children, please.”

“You’re bored with me,” Yannah continued, ignoring her mother.

“Bored?” Levet’s wings quivered. “Are you natty?”

“Nutty,” Yannah gritted. “It’s nutty.”

Levet waved a hand. “I chased you from Russia to London to the pits of hell.”

“And once I allowed you to catch me, the thrill was gone. Admit it.”

“I—”

A sharp burst of power flooded the room, threatening a pain that made them all freeze in wariness.

“Enough,” Siljar snapped. “Yannah, you will find Recise and resume your training.”

“But . . .” Yannah swallowed her words as she met her mother’s smoldering gaze, belatedly realizing that Siljar had reached the end of her patience. “I’m going.” She turned to glare at Levet. “We will continue this conversation later.”

“Mon dieu,”
the gargoyle breathed.

Siljar waited for Yannah to stomp from the cavern before turning her attention to Levet.

“And you.”

“You will accompany my guest on her mission.”

Levet glanced toward Nefri, his expression melting to offer her a smile of pure male appreciation. “But of course.”

“I must warn you that there is a potential for great danger,” Siljar said.

“Bah.” Levet tilted his chin to a proud angle. “Danger is my maiden name.”

“I believe you mean ‘middle,’” Siljar corrected him.

“It is all the same.” The gargoyle waddled over to stand directly in front of Nefri, bending at the waist in an old-school bow. “My lady.”

“Nefri,” she insisted, finding herself charmed by the tiny demon. Why did Styx and Santiago spend so much time complaining about the creature?

“It will be my greatest pleasure to assist you in your quest,” he assured her. “I did, after all, save the world from a certain apocalypse only weeks ago.” He abruptly scowled, glancing toward the Oracle. “Wait.”

Siljar lifted her brows. “Yes?”

“There isn’t going to be another apocalypse, is there?”

“No.”

“Well, at least not if we can prevent it,” Siljar corrected herself.

Levet tossed his hands in the air. “Why me?”

 

Santiago wasn’t the only predator to prowl through the cypress trees that were painted silver in the moonlight. Alligators, rattlesnakes, and occasional cougars hunted through the swamp along with the far more dangerous water sprites, who could lure a man to his doom, and a rare Dalini serpent, a demon who could transform from serpent form to look human. Always born male, they had to mate with mortal females.

Santiago was, however, the most lethal.

Moving with a grace that was impressive considering the spongy ground and thick undergrowth, Santiago slowly circled the isolated swamp, coming to an abrupt halt as a sensation he hadn’t felt in centuries flared to life.

It was his bond to Gaius.

Not all sires allowed a “child” to form a physical attachment. In the good old days, most vampires rarely stuck around to find out if their creation actually survived the process of transformation, let alone continued to feed their offspring to give them the best possible chance for survival.

Gaius had gone a step further by taking Santiago into his clan and into his lair.

A true son.

The blood connection had given Santiago the ability to sense his sire. Or, if he was far away, to sense his general direction.

Santiago had assumed the bond had been destroyed when he traveled beyond the Veil. After all, he hadn’t felt his sire for centuries, not even when he returned to this world. Now he could only wonder if the Dark Lord had somehow kept the older vampire from being discovered.

Holding perfectly still, Santiago allowed his powers to spread toward the distant house, built on brick stilts and painted white.

Large with two stories, it had black shutters and a screened-in porch that wrapped around the side. The roof had recently been replaced, but the nearby chicken coop looked like a stiff breeze might blow it over.

The structure was effectively hidden by the large trees draped in Spanish moss that surrounded it and was set far enough from the path leading to the nearby small town to avoid unwanted interest.

A perfect lair for a vampire seeking solitude.

Confident that nothing was creeping through the shadows beyond the native wildlife, Santiago focused his powers on the house.

It took only a second for a jolt of recognition to blaze through him.

Gaius wasn’t there, but something else was.

Something powerful enough to make the very air sizzle.

So much for being the most lethal predator around, he conceded, his hands clenched as he was slammed by a combination of shock and dark, unwelcomed arousal. The Oracles had sent in the big guns.

Nefri.

No vampire beyond Styx had that kind of juice.

Certainly no other vampire could make him hard by her mere scent.

Jasmine.

Enticing, elusive, dangerous.

And his own personal kryptonite.

His spine stiffened as he moved forward, silently sliding through the front gate and up the wide staircase.

Not this time.

During their last encounter Nefri had managed to lead him by the nose and then dumped him like a bad habit.

Tonight she was going to discover that he wasn’t her lap dog. In fact, he might just be her worst nightmare.

Entering the house, he glanced around the front room, which was filled with padded bamboo furniture. A frown touched his brow as he realized that the sofa and chairs had been shoved aside so a large circle could be scraped into the wooden floorboards.

The witch’s work, no doubt.

Not that he gave a damn at the moment. His senses were filled with a beguiling jasmine scent that filtered deep into places that he’d forgotten existed.
Mierda
. His entire body was resonating with awareness. As if Nefri had infected him with a brutal craving that only she could satisfy.

He should turn and walk away, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. A call to Styx for a replacement and he would be returning to his club to find a woman who could make him forget he’d ever met a female named Nefri.

But of course he didn’t.

His infamous talent for remaining in command no matter what the situation had been destroyed the moment he’d realized that Nefri was within his grasp. Now he stalked forward, following the trail of his prey into the back kitchen.

Distantly he was aware of peeling linoleum, the ancient human appliances, and a small wooden table. But it was the female vampire standing in the center of the room that commanded his attention.

Regal.

There was no other word for Nefri’s tall graceful beauty. Even surrounded by shabby white-painted cabinets and drenched in fluorescent light, she looked like a queen with her hair falling to her waist like a river of liquid ebony. Her face was a perfect, pale oval with features carved by the hands of angels and eyes dark and deep enough for a man to drown in.

Her lips . . .
dios
. How many fantasies had been devoted to imagining those cherry red lips wrapped around his cock? The same cock that was already standing at painful attention.

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he drawled, moving to lean against the tiled countertop, his gaze narrowing as he took in the faded jeans that clung to her long, slender legs and the jade cashmere sweater that allowed him to appreciate the full curve of her breasts.

The last time she’d left the Veil she’d draped herself in long robes that only hinted at the feminine flawlessness beneath.

Now he felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut. Trying to pretend a nonchalance he was far from feeling, Santiago folded his arms over his chest and met her piercing gaze.

“Santiago,” she murmured, taking a brief inventory of his own jeans, gray hoodie, and big-ass sword strapped to his back, her aloof composure rousing his most primitive instincts.

She wouldn’t look so cold and untouchable once he had her tumbled into his bed, he silently swore. She would be warm and willing and wild enough to sate his hunger.

He wouldn’t accept anything less.

He smiled, not bothering to hide his raw desire. Hell, she already thought he was a barbarian. No need to disappoint her.

“I thought you had scurried back behind the Veil.”

“Scurried?” A slow lift of her brow. “I returned to my home.”

“Without so much as a good-bye?”

“My people needed me.”

Bull. Shit.

“For what?”

She shrugged. “It was difficult for us to accept that we could have a traitor living among us and not have suspected the truth.”

Now that he believed her. Immortal Ones were arrogant enough to assume that they couldn’t be deceived. Their pride must have taken quite a beating for them to accept they’d harbored the traitor.

Still, he knew it was more than concern for her clan that had made her disappear without warning.

“And you were running away?”

A cool smile of disdain. “Running away from what?”

He was lunging forward before he even realized he was moving, grasping her by the shoulders, swooping down his head.

“This,” he muttered as he kissed her with all the frustration that had plagued him over the past month.

For a shocking minute Nefri went rigid beneath his hands, and Santiago felt a cold shard of fear pierce his heart. He couldn’t be wrong. Beneath all her ice, this female burned with an awareness that was as fierce as his.

Then, as his kiss gentled with a gut-aching need to taste her response, he felt a revealing quiver. It was faint, but unmistakable as she swayed toward him, her lips softening in invitation.

Sí
.

Relief combined with a dark, intoxicating need threaded through Santiago. The scent of jasmine teased at his nose, the cool silk of her lips as potent as the finest aphrodisiac.

But before he could wrap her slender body in his arms and quench the lust that had raged through him for weeks, Nefri was lifting her hands and pushing them against his chest.

Grudgingly Santiago lifted his head to study her pale face with a brooding gaze. “Don’t expect an apology,” he muttered.

The dark eyes flashed with an indefinable emotion before they were once again calm pools of ebony. “You are . . .”

“What?”

“Uncivilized.”

His hands trailed up her arms, luxuriating in the soft caress of cashmere beneath his fingers. He was a tactile vampire who took intense pleasure in touching and being touched. It had been far too long since he’d indulged his senses.

All
his senses.

“Why?” he demanded, not even randomly offended by her accusation. “Because I haven’t been neutered like those so-called Immortal Ones?”

“My clansmen aren’t neutered,” she denied, a faint accent threaded through her low, enticing voice. Like many ancient vampires she deliberately cultivated the current slang, but often slipped into a more formal speech pattern when she was distracted. “In fact, they happen to be extremely intelligent, thoughtful, articulate. . . .”

“Eunuchs.”

Her lips thinned. “I may have left this world a few centuries ago, but I’m fairly certain that men are no longer allowed to maul women whenever they feel the impulse.”

His soft chuckle filled the room. “Oh, I haven’t even started my mauling,” he assured her. He wasn’t stupid. This female had the power to crush him into little squishy bits if she was truly offended by his behavior. “This is only a small taste of my pre-maul.”

“Savage.”

He placed a kiss on the tip of her proud, aquiline nose. “And loving every minute of it.”

“That’s enough.” This time she pressed against his chest with enough force to assure Santiago she wasn’t teasing.

Reluctantly he dropped his hands and took a step back. “Not nearly, but it will have to wait for a more appropriate time and place.”

She tilted her chin, looking untouched. Only the faint tremble of her fingers as she adjusted the heavy gold medallion around her neck assured Santiago he hadn’t imagined her reaction to his kiss.

“You actually have the word ‘appropriate’ in your vocabulary?”

Aggravated by her calm while he was being seared alive with hunger, Santiago planted his fists on his hips. “What are you doing here?”

Unfazed by the abrupt question, she met his gaze squarely. “I could ask the same of you.”

“I’m Gaius’s only living child,” he said without missing a beat. “By rights I can claim his property after his death.” He ran an intimate glance up and down the stately length of her body. “In fact, by law anything or anyone attached to that property is mine.”

She ignored his insinuation, regarding him with a cool disbelief. “So you’re just here to inspect your latest acquisition?”

“If I leave it empty too long who knows what nefarious creature might decide to poach on my territory?”

“I see. Then I’ll leave you to your”—a bland smile—

“inspection.”

His hand shot out with blurring speed, grasping her arm as she attempted to move past him.

“Not so quick,
cara
.”

The heavy pressure of her power filled the cramped space, his long hair stirring in the sudden breeze.

“You should release me,” she warned, oh so softly.

He loosened his grip, but his fingers remained on her arm. She wasn’t disappearing on him. Not again. “You haven’t answered my questions.”

“Nor do I intend to.”

He studied her pale, exquisite features. “Such a perfect ice queen,” he murmured, his gaze lowering to the lush fullness of her lips. Those weren’t the lips of an ice princess. They spoke to him of hot Spanish nights and decadent pleasure. “Did the Oracles send you?”

It was only because he was touching her that he felt her stiffen at his question.

“Only a fool discusses Commission business.”

No shit. Unfortunately, Styx had tossed him straight into the lion’s den. He needed to know why the Oracles were interested in Gaius. And what they were trying to hide from the vampires.

“You’re here looking for Gaius, aren’t you?”

“Why would I?” Frost coated her words. “I was told that Gaius died during the battle against the Dark Lord.”

His short laugh held an edge of bitterness. “Yeah, a lot of us were told that.”

Just for a second he thought he could glimpse something flash through her dark eyes. Sympathy? He shook his head. Not freaking likely.

The female was in pure ice mode.

“And since you’re here to claim your inheritance, it would be a wasted effort to search for him.”

“Half truths and evasion, Nefri?” He leaned forward, drawing deeply of her jasmine scent. “That isn’t your usual style.”

“You know nothing about me.”

A smile curved his lips as he felt her faint tremor. Not fear. Nefri was a woman who was beyond fear of anything. Or anyone.

No, it wasn’t fear. But need.

“I know more than you ever wanted me to,” his voice lowered, his fingers stroking up the back of her arm to her shoulder. “Which is why you bolted behind the safety of your Veil.”

Her extravagantly long lashes lowered to hide her eyes, but it was too late.

They both knew she was vulnerable to his touch, even if she would rather have her tongue cut out than to admit the truth.

“I have to go,” she jerked from his grasp, her steps measured as she headed toward the door.

Santiago let her take several steps, keeping his hands at his side. He had an ace up his sleeve.

“He was here, but he left,” he said softly. “One, maybe two nights ago.”

Nefri froze, her back held ramrod straight, before she slowly forced herself to turn and meet his mocking gaze.

“Gaius?”

“Who else?”