Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) (4 page)

The dark eyes narrowed and Santiago knew she was weighing her desire to keep walking against her mysterious duty to the Oracles.

In the end there really was no choice.

For either of them.

“How do you know?” She at last forced the question past her stiff lips.

“He’s my sire.”

She studied him a long moment. “You couldn’t sense him before.”

“No,” he instantly agreed. Did she think he was lying? “There was something blocking our bond.”

“And now?”

He shrugged. “It didn’t kick in until I reached this lair, but now I can feel him, although it’s still muted.”

Her dark brows drew together. “Why?”

Santiago moved to stand directly before her, obsessed by the need to keep her close.

“Since I’m 100 percent certain you know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on,” he drawled, “why don’t you explain it to me?”

She took a deliberate step backward. “I have no information.”

Step forward. “Nefri.”

“What?”

“Can you sense him?”

Her slender fingers lifted to touch the medallion, her jaw tightening. “No.”

He reached out to capture her fingers, which still clutched the medallion like a lifeline, his knuckles resting against the soft curve of her breast. “Can you catch his scent?”

“No.”

“Then you need me.”

“Your lack of manners is only exceeded by your complete arrogance.”

A wicked smile curved his lips at her icy rebuttal. “Oh no,
cara,
the rules of the game have changed.”

She tensed. One predator sensing another. Not that she was going to concede defeat. Not without a fight. Good. Strong women were so damned sexy.

“What game?”

“The last time you called the shots, this time—” His words broke off as he caught the unmistakable scent of granite approaching the back steps.

No. Oh no. Fate couldn’t be that cruel.

But it seemed it was.

Even as he turned, the door leading to the bog of a backyard was being shoved open and a tiny gargoyle waddled into the kitchen.

“Did something die in here?” the creature muttered, his ridiculous wings twitching. “I smell”—he came to a halt, regarding Santiago with a sour smile—“vampire.”

“Santa madre.”
Santiago turned back to glare at his beautiful companion. “Have you gone completely
loco?
”

 

 

Yes, Nefri silently answered the question.

In this moment she was fairly confident that she was at least skirting the edges of becoming
loco
. And had been since the moment she realized which vampire Styx had sent to spy on her.

What was it with this man? Granted, he was gorgeous. Breathtaking, mouthwatering, do-me-right-now gorgeous.

And powerful enough to challenge her despite the fact he wasn’t a clan chief.

And edible. Even when he was being stubborn and so aggravatingly arrogant she wanted to slug him in the nose, he made her think of running her hands over those hard muscles and tasting his warm Spanish blood.

But she’d met thousands of gorgeous, powerful, even sexy men over the past centuries and none of them had made her react like a . . . She swallowed a low growl. Why not admit it? She was reacting like a Harpy in heat.

And worse, he was all too aware of her vulnerability.

That knowledge only reinforced the need to get rid of him as soon as possible. As if ticking off the Oracles wasn’t reason enough.

At least her inner turmoil wasn’t visible as she met Santiago’s searing black gaze. “Excuse me?” she asked in the cool tones she knew set his fangs on edge.

He pointed a finger toward Levet. “Why are you traveling with that pest?”

She narrowed her gaze. “Please do not insult my companion.”

“
Oui,
do not insult her companion,” Levet muttered, moving to stand at her side with an offended sniff. “In case you missed the mammogram, I’m a hero.”

Santiago scowled. “Mammogram?”

“Memo,” Nefri corrected him. “Missed the memo.”

The exasperated male gave a shake of his head. “Are you being punished?”

“I didn’t think so.” She allowed her gaze to flick over his lean, muscular form, shown to perfection in his tight jeans. “Until now.”

Santiago muttered a curse. “There’s no need for him to be here.”

“That’s not your call.” She nodded toward the nearby doorway. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with Levet in private.”

It couldn’t be that easy.

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“He can’t follow Gaius’s trail.”

Her lips thinned as she realized he’d so easily read her mind, but with a grim hold on her composure she turned her attention to the gargoyle as he stuck his tongue toward Santiago.

“For your information, I am a superb tracker.”

“Can you find him?” she asked softly.

“Given time,” Levet assured her, then with obvious embarrassment, wrinkled his ugly little snout. “Well, perhaps it will be more difficult than usual. The vampire somehow managed to have his . . . essence stripped. There’s no scent to follow.”

“There, you see,” Santiago mocked.

She turned back with a lift of her brow. “See what?”

“You need me.”

Oh . . . damn. She did.

Even the Oracles would agree there was nothing more vital than finding Gaius. And more importantly, what was currently controlling him.

Of course, she had to be sure that he could actually produce results before she agreed to anything.

“How do I know this is not a trick?” she demanded.

He scowled, as if offended by her question. “Why would I want to trick you?”

“Your male pride was obviously wounded by my return to my people without first gaining your approval.”

His lips curled back to expose his fangs. Like all males, he didn’t want to admit he might be unreasonable. “I’ll admit your disappearance annoyed me, but not because of my pride.” He deliberately paused. “It was the coward’s choice.”

A dangerous silence filled the kitchen, broken only by Levet’s gasp of shock.

“I . . . umm . . . I think I will go investigate the upstairs,” the tiny gargoyle muttered, his tail twitching as he hurried out of the kitchen.

Nefri and Santiago ignored his abrupt departure, both busy glaring at one another.

At last, Nefri found her voice. “Did you just call me a coward?”

Santiago didn’t so much as flinch at the lethal edge in her voice. Something she might have admired if she hadn’t been so infuriated.

“I said you made a coward’s choice,” he corrected her.

“Did you ever consider for one minute that my decision to leave had nothing to do with you?”

“No.”

“That I have duties that are more important than appeasing your ego?” she grimly continued.

“You—” Santiago bit off his words, hissing as the sharp stench of rotting flesh filled the air.

“Sacrebleu,”
Levet called from above them. “You will want to see this.”

Santiago rolled his eyes heavenward. “Damn that gargoyle.”

 

The vast mansion on the north side of Chicago looked more like a palace than a lair for one of the most powerful and feared vampires in the world.

There were acres of marble floors, sweeping staircases, and lofted ceilings that were painted with museum-grade artwork. The hallways were lined with fluted columns and shallow alcoves that held Grecian statues. The furnishings were straight out of Versailles and there was enough gilding to make a sensible demon shudder in horror.

The lower dungeons, however, were straight out of the Pentagon’s wet dreams.

Dug deep beneath the mansion, the spiderweb of cement corridors led to a variety of cells. Some lined with lead, others with steel, and still others with silver. And all of them heavily hexed to prevent even a spark of magic.

Which was a true pain in the ass for Sally Grace.

Standing in the center of the cell, the powerful witch considered all the bad decisions that had led to this particular moment. There were a number of them.

The decision to run instead of trying to kill her crazy-ass mother.

The decision to give in to the Dark Lord’s promises of power in return for becoming his servant.

The decision to help the vampire Gaius and his idiot cur partners in their attempts to capture the prophet and her Were protector.

All bad.

But nothing topped her latest.

Why the hell had she ever thought it would be a good idea to approach the King of Vampires?

Only a month ago she would have laughed at anyone who suggested she would be seeking out the Anasso. She was, after all, determined to lay low now the Dark Lord was dead and forget she knew anything about demons or witches or evil deities. In a few years she could change her name and start over. Only this time she intended to stay strictly among humans.

With that in mind she’d washed the black dye from her shoulder-length hair to reveal the deep red tresses streaked with gold that nature had intended for her. Her pale, almost fragile features were no longer marred with piercings or the black, goth makeup she’d used to disguise herself. In fact, her big brown eyes and full lips were devoid of cosmetics. Even her love for short skirts and barely there tops had been replaced by jeans and sweatshirts.

Then she’d disappeared into Gaius’s home in the Louisiana swamps. Why not? There were few places more isolated, and it wasn’t as if the vampire would need the place. Not after he’d been killed in the battle with the Dark Lord.

Everything should have been perfect.

Only it wasn’t perfect.

A week ago she’d returned to the house after a quick visit to the nearest grocery store to find that not only was Gaius alive, but he’d become a mindless, feral animal who was obviously protecting something or someone in the house.

Terrified by the vampire’s strange behavior, not to mention wanting him out of the house she’d claimed for herself, she’d retreated into the swamps and prepared a repulsion spell that should have worked on even the most powerful vampire.

She might hate her mother, but the bitch had trained her to brew some wicked black magic.

But once the spell was prepared and she’d crept back to the house to cast it during the power of the full moon, she’d discovered the house was being protected by a force that went beyond anything she’d felt before.

And that was saying something for a witch who’d been in the employ of an evil god.

Realizing there was something seriously weird going on, she had impulsively driven to this lair and demanded an audience with Styx. It was worth a try.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been for the powerful, lethally beautiful vampire to invite her into his private study where another vampire with long, silver hair and the face of a fallen angel had been standing in the corner. She’d somehow assumed she would be handed off to a flunky to deal with her concerns. But instead the two powerful demons had listened to her claims with a convincing display of interest.

Styx had murmured all the right words and even offered her a cup of her favorite tea. And she’d fallen for his faux sincerity hook, line, and sinker.

Sipping her tea, she’d been in the middle of telling him precisely why Gaius had to be captured when she’d felt her tongue go thick and her eyes drift shut.

Drugged.

The coldhearted, treacherous jackasses.

She’d woken only a few minutes ago, her tongue coated in fuzz and her magic muted by the hexes scrawled on the silver walls.

She did have her secret weapon, but it was a talent that only worked on humans, never demons. Or at least it hadn’t until a few weeks ago when she’d accidentally used it on a hellhound who had strayed too close to the house.

She didn’t know if her connection to the Dark Lord had muted her natural talents, or if she’d reached some critical age where it finally blossomed. More likely the hellhound had been weak and she’d been pumped up on adrenaline when it had suddenly appeared on her porch.

In any case, she’d have to be an idiot to try it on a vampire or even a pure-blooded Were.

If she failed and they realized what she’d tried to do . . . Well, being tossed in a cell would be the least of her worries.

Damn Styx and his leech squad. She hated this feeling of helplessness. She’d promised in the past that she would never again allow herself to be at the mercy of others.

Why else would she have agreed to worship the Dark Lord? Or partnered with Gaius?

Now she was back to the beginning.

Prey.

No. With a fierce effort she shook off the rising tide of panic. She wasn’t prey. Never again.

Turning toward the camera hidden in the corner of the cell, she waved her arms. “Heeeellllooo. Can anyone hear me?” she screamed, knowing the vampire monitoring the cameras would be flinching at her shrill voice. Super hearing could be a bitch. “What’s wrong with you freaks? I came here to help you.” She stepped closer to the camera, her voice raising another painful octave. “I risked everything to just try to warn you about Gaius. And what do I get? A reward? An ‘atta girl’? Hell, no. I get locked up like a rat in a cage. Thankless bastards.”

A second later she heard the sound of a distant door opening and closing, then the soft whisper of approaching footsteps. Instinctively she turned toward the bars of her cell, denying the urge to back into the distant corner as a cold, sharp-edged power filled the air.

Vampires thrived on fear. It was an aphrodisiac to the bloodsuckers. She wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

The brave thought had barely passed through her mind when it tumbled into an abyss of shock at the sight of the male who stepped into view.

And despite being a dreaded leech, he was a male with a capital M.

Wearing jeans, a leather jacket over his T-shirt, and moccasin boots that reached his knees, he had the hard, lean body of a predator. His skin was bronzed and his dark hair brushed his broad shoulders. His features were lean with the high cheekbones of his Native American bloodlines and a proud nose. His brow was wide and his lips cut on sensual lines.

But it was his eyes that made her forget how to breathe.

They were . . . astonishing.

In the overhead light they glinted with a silver sheen, but they were so pale they appeared almost white, the shocking paleness emphasized by the rim of pure black that circled them.

She shivered, feeling as if he could see through every layer of defense she’d wrapped around her vulnerable heart.

Halting close to the bars of her cell, the stranger folded his arms over his chest and regarded her with a mocking smile. “Did you learn such language from your mother?”

The edge of disdain in his voice effectively squashed her unwelcome fascination. Jerk. What right did he have to look at her as if she were something he scraped off the bottom of his moccasin?

“My mother was too busy trying to kill me to teach me anything beyond how to run. Really, really fast,” she mocked in return, moving forward to grasp the bars. As if her knees weren’t trembling and her heart wasn’t slamming against her ribs. “And, oh yeah, never to trust anyone. Something I was stupid enough to forget.”

The astonishing eyes widened, as if she’d truly managed to surprise him.

“Your mother tried to kill you?”

She shrugged. Families. What’cha gonna do?

“Why was I drugged and thrown in the dungeons?” she demanded. “I came here in good faith.”

“We have only your word on that.” He planted his hands on his hips, his jacket shifting to reveal the dagger attached to his belt and the gun holstered at his side.

Holy crap. He had enough firepower to bring down a rabid troll. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or horrified. In the end she was just pissed off.

“And a witch’s word can’t be trusted?” she snapped.

“You admitted you worshipped the Dark Lord,” he said without apology. “That hardly encourages faith in your moral compass.”

“Moral compass? Are you kidding me?” She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. “You’re a vampire.”

“So?”

“You’re the last one who should be judging my morals.” A slow smile curved his lips and Sally’s fingers tightened on the bars. If he’d been handsome when all haughty and disdainful, he was outrageously gorgeous when he smiled.

“Fair enough.”

“Then let me out,” she challenged him.

“It’s not my call.”

“This is bullshit.” She glared between the bars. “Complete and utter bullshit.”

“Are you hungry?”

She blinked, taken off guard by the abrupt question. “What?”

“You’ve been out for forty-eight hours; do you need food?”

“Forty-eight hours?” she breathed in shock. Dammit. She’d thought she’d been out an hour, maybe two. “What did you give me?”

“A drug to make you sleep.” He shrugged. “It’s harmless to humans.”

Fury raced through her at the risk the leeches had taken with her life. The drug might very well have been safe for humans, but she wasn’t entirely human.

Not that she was going to admit as much. It was a secret she intended to take to her grave.

“Have you ever heard of allergic reactions?” she instead growled. “You could have killed me.”

His bored expression revealed his supreme indifference to whether she lived or died.

Yeah. Über-jerk.

“Do you want food or not?”

She wanted to tell him to shove his offer up his ass. Thankfully she wasn’t stubborn enough to cut off her nose to spite her face. She needed to keep up her energy if she was going to find a way out of the dungeons.

And fuel if she was going to risk using her secret mojo.

“I’m starving.”

“I suppose you nibble lettuce like most females?”

“A double bacon cheeseburger with loaded potato skins and a chocolate shake,” she ordered. “Oh, and one of those deep-fried apple pies.”

He snorted. “Is that all?”

“You can throw in a few Buffalo wings with blue cheese dipping sauce.”

His gaze briefly lowered to her tiny frame, which barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. For a fleeting second his gaze lingered and his eyes flared, as if he’d just been hit by an unpleasant sensation. Then, with an obvious effort, he was shaking off his strange reaction.

“Your funeral,” he muttered.

Sally rolled her eyes. “I hang around with deranged curs and megalomaniac vampires, not to mention evil deities; I doubt it’s cholesterol that’s going to put me in my grave.”

Again that glorious indifference to her expected life span. “It will be at least half an hour. The chef here only cooks vegetarian, so they’ll have to order out.”

“Vegetarian?” She blinked, wondering if it was some sort of inside joke. “I thought the Anasso’s mate was a pure-blooded Were?”

“She is.”

“And she . . .” Sally gave a shake of her head. “Never mind. I’ve clearly stumbled into a madhouse.”

“That about sums it up,” he said, so low that she barely caught the words.

She frowned. “If that’s how you feel, then why are you here?” “Because my king commands it.”

Hmmm. A stewing mutiny?

“And you’re always an obedient little soldier?”

Easily seeing through her attempt at “divide and conquer,” the vampire turned to leave. “I’ll return with the food.”

“Wait.”

He muttered a low curse, glancing over his shoulder. “What now?”

“How long am I going to be held a prisoner?”

“That’s up to Styx.”

“You can’t just leave me trapped down here.”

“Watch me.”

He walked away, exposing the most delectable butt she’d ever seen encased in denims. She swallowed a groan at the desire that flared through her, pretending she was leaning her head through the bars to yell at the bastard and not to admire his fine backside.

“You’re a cold-blooded and heartless bastard, leech.”

“Roke.”

She frowned as his disembodied voice floated through the air. “What?”

“My name is Roke, not leech.”

 

 

Roke walked away despite the annoying urge to turn around and release Sally Grace from the barren cell.

Dammit, what was wrong with him?

Okay, the female was pretty. Astonishingly pretty. He’d known that from the moment he’d caught sight of her in the dungeon’s monitor. So what? Weren’t there thousands of women who were far more beautiful? Certainly they were all more charming.

The spiteful little witch had the tongue of a shrew and the temperament of a rattlesnake.