Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) (20 page)

“It must take possession of a body that belongs to another.”

Santiago glanced toward Nefri. They’d been chasing what they thought were two demons. Was it possible that it was just one and he was being possessed by the spirit?

“Gaius?”

She chewed her bottom lip. “You said that the witch claimed he was protecting someone.”

“She never did see the ‘someone,’” he pointed out.

“True,” she agreed, although her expression remained troubled.

Santiago didn’t blame her. Right now they could do no more than make wild suppositions that didn’t do them a damned bit of good.

He turned back to the dragon. “The most important question is how do we kill it?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” The amber flames in Baine’s eyes became oddly hypnotizing. “It is, after all, your ultimate sire.”

Santiago shook off the dragon’s intrusion into his mind. The bastard was no doubt hoping to enjoy a full-blown spiritual crisis. Unfortunately for him, Santiago was a warrior, not a monk.

“What will happen if it’s left free?”

A mocking smile touched Baine’s mouth. “Strong emotions have inevitable conclusions. It begins with murder and rape and the always favorite pillaging. Eventually it will disintegrate into war, genocide, and famine.”

He felt Nefri grow rigid at the stark warning and he instinctively rubbed a comforting hand down her back.

Not that he had much comfort to offer.

Dammit, hadn’t they just prevented the end of the world? Now they had to face war and genocide and famine?

Where was the justice in that?

“You didn’t answer the question,” he reminded the dragon, in no mood to be diplomatic. He snorted. Who was he kidding? He was
never
in the mood to be diplomatic. But after the past few weeks he was even more impatient than usual. “How do we kill it?”

Baine’s tattoos swirled in warning, although his voice remained soft. “I don’t know.”

So the mighty dragon knew everything but the information they most needed.

Predictable.

“Great.”

Baine leaned forward. “But I do find it intriguing that the Commission chose to imprison the spirit rather than destroying it, don’t you?”

Santiago paused. He’d rather have his tongue cut out than admit it, but the oversized lizard had a point.

Why hadn’t the Oracles killed the creature? Because they were demon conservationists who didn’t believe in killing off the potential last of a species? Yeah, right. More likely it was because they didn’t know how to get rid of the thing.

So instead they sent Nefri to do their dirty work, not giving a shit that she might die in the process.

Fury raced through him at the same time Baine rose from his throne, his surge of power making the earth shake beneath their feet.

Instinctively, Santiago shoved Nefri behind him, his sword raised. “Do we have a problem, dragon?” he growled.

“Your companion is searching for you,” Baine growled, his tattoos darkening. “And he’s not alone.”

Santiago frowned. “What companion?”

Nefri elbowed him in the side. “Levet.”

He rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t call the miniature pest a companion. More like an unwelcome boil on his ass.

“Our”—his lips twisted as he forced out the word—“
companion
can wait. I still have questions.”

Baine shook his head. “I have paid my debt.” He shifted his attention to the silent Nefri, the amber flames consuming his eyes. “My last word of warning, beautiful Nefri, is not to hesitate. With every passing day the spirit grows more powerful.”

“Wait . . .” Santiago stepped forward, but even as he moved, the throne room was dissolving around him.

Dammit.

He held on to Nefri as Baine offered a last mocking wave and the throne room faded to be replaced by the rolling meadow and large tree that was no longer split in two.

Barely managing to keep his balance at the abrupt change from a polished wood floor to muddy, uneven ground, Santiago’s seething frustration became pure male outrage at the stench of granite and . . . was that brimstone?

“There you are,” a French-accented voice proclaimed. “
Mon dieu
. I thought you’d been stolen by leprechauns.”

“Leprechauns,” a female voice taunted. “Everyone knows there are no leprechauns.”

Spinning on his heel, Santiago discovered the stunted gargoyle standing a few feet away, accompanied by a tiny female demon with black, oblong-shaped eyes and razor sharp teeth.

Gods almighty, the gargoyle had a friend?

Okay, maybe not a friend, he hastily revised his opinion as the two glared at one another.

“It was a metaphor,” Levet informed his companion, his wings quivering with anger.

The female gave a toss of her long braid, her hands smoothing down the long, white robe that covered her diminutive body. “It was idiotic,” she muttered.

“Dios.”
Santiago turned to discover Nefri regarding the tiny couple with a faint smile. “Shoot me now.”

 

Sally didn’t know why she was caught off guard when Roke carried her directly to Styx’s dungeon.

Did she think making him her temporary love-slave would soften his hatred for her? Or hey, maybe he would be grateful she’d made him betray his people and help her escape?

Yeah, he should be thrilled-to-freaking-death with her.

Still, as he entered the house by the hidden tunnel and headed directly to the dungeon, she was overwhelmed by a sudden avalanche of panic.

What did he intend to do to her? He’d been furious in the warehouse. How did she know he didn’t intend to kill her and leave her body for the scavengers?

And once she was back in the hexed cell, she would be utterly helpless.

Pounding his back with her fists, she futilely attempted to kick him in the one place vampires were as vulnerable as any other man.

“No,” she shrieked. “I won’t be locked up again.”

His steps never faltered as he bypassed the curious guards. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“Let me go.” He ignored her, shoving open the door to the dungeon and heading down the narrow corridor that ran between the line of cells. “Roke, did you hear me?”

“I’m sure your screechings are audible to half of Chicago.”

Sally bit her lip. Her hands ached from hitting the unyielding muscles of his back and with every step the cell grew nearer. Soon she would be locked away. Or worse.

Abruptly something inside her broke and to her utter humiliation she burst into tears.

“You . . . bastard.”

Apparently as shocked as she was by her emotional meltdown, Roke slid her off his shoulder so she was standing directly in front of him.

“Sssh,” he muttered, frowning as his thumbs brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She sniffed, telling herself that she wasn’t comforted by his gentle touch.

He was a . . . a . . . cold-blooded leech.

“You already have,” she muttered.

“Me?” He appeared ridiculously outraged by her accusation. “What have I done?”

Was he serious? She lifted her arm to reveal the strange rash on her inner arm.

“This, for one thing.”

His jaw tightened, as if angered by her reminder of the crimson mark. “Don’t blame me. That’s entirely your fault.” He lifted his own arm, pushing back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a matching rash.

“I don’t . . .” Her words faltered. Wait. How could he have the same exact rash as her? Was it some side effect from her powers? She hadn’t heard of anything like it. All right, there was the brand between mated vampires that was supposed to be some sort of red tattoo, but it couldn’t be that. Impossible. Abruptly she remembered his fury as he’d ripped off his jacket and her heart stuttered to a painful halt. “Oh crap. Is that . . .”

“A mating mark,” he assured her in icy tones.

She shook her head, stumbling backward as her brain refused to accept what he was saying.

“How’s that possible? I thought leeches had to exchange blood to become bonded.” She unconsciously ran her fingers over the markings on her arm, as if she could rub them away. “Not to mention lack the homicidal urge to murder each other.”

He curled back his lips to reveal his fully extended fangs. Yep. Definitely murder on his mind.

“Obviously your spell triggered the mating instinct.”

She shivered. Mating instinct. It was primitive. Uncivilized.

And not at all a reason for her stomach to flutter as if she were . . .

Excited?

No. Way.

“I don’t care how it happened,” she said, an edge of panic in her voice. “Just get rid of it.”

He lifted a dark brow, his pale eyes reflecting the overhead light. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

“I . . .” She licked her dry lips.

“Yes?”

She wrapped her arms around her body, which continued to shake with uncontrollable tremors. “How do vampires break the bond?”

“They don’t.” He held her wary gaze, his expression grim. “A mating is for eternity.”

“But this isn’t a real mating.”

“Isn’t it?”

She frowned. Was this some sort of trick? Did he think she’d intentionally tried to trap them together? “Of course not.”

“You can’t feel me deep inside you?” His voice thickened, his fingers lightly touching the narrow valley between her breasts. “Here.”

An erotic burst of heat speared through her at his touch. A heat that was nearly as shocking as the realization he was right.

She could feel him.

His burning frustration. His barely leashed fury.

His unwanted arousal.

She’d tried to tell herself that the sensations were just an echo of the spell that had bound them together.

That it would quickly fade.

But the words rang hollow.

He was . . . a part of her.

“Roke,” she breathed, her heart skipping a beat as he turned smoothly toward the far door.

“Styx is coming.”

His muttered words had barely left his lips when the door to the dungeon was flung open with enough force to make the hinges squeak in protest.

A bare second later the six-foot-five Aztec warrior entered the dungeons, bringing with him an icy tidal wave of power.

As far as entrances went, this one was a doozy, and Sally instinctively stepped backward, pressing herself against Roke, as if he were a safe harbor in the midst of a gathering hurricane.

“What the hell is going on?” the Anasso roared, the lights flickering in and out to create an unnerving strobe effect.

“Sally, look at me,” Roke commanded in a low voice, grasping her chin to force her to meet his shimmering gaze.

She struggled to breath, suddenly so cold her teeth were chattering. “I’ll take a wild stab and say he’s pissed,” she managed to mutter.

He leaned down until their noses were nearly touching, an oddly possessive expression tightening his lean features. “Not nearly as pissed as I’m going to be if you try to use your powers on him,” he rasped. “In fact, you can consider that particular skill off-line for the foreseeable future.”

Her fear remained. Full-scale. She was trapped between two angry vampires. There wasn’t a witch alive who wouldn’t be frightened out of her mind.

But she was female enough to be annoyed by his blatant command. “You’re not the boss of me.”

His thumb brushed her lower lip, his gaze searing a path over her stubborn expression. “Don’t push this, witch.”

“I . . .” She became lost in the compelling beauty of his eyes, her annoyance floundering as she felt his fierce tension. This wasn’t just a male need to toss out orders. It . . . mattered to him. “Trust me, I never intend to use it again,” she at last conceded.

“Good,” he growled. “Because if you try to bond with another man, I’ll . . .”

She scowled. “You’ll what?”

Without warning he grabbed her face and kissed her with a raw yearning that she felt to the tips of her toes.

Holy shit.

“You’re making me nuts,” he muttered against her lips.

She clutched at his leather jacket, her knees stupidly weak. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”

“Roke,” a dark, frigid voice broke into their brief moment of madness. “Am I intruding?”

Releasing his hold on her, Roke turned to face his king, angling his body so she was half shielded behind him.

Sally blinked in surprise. He couldn’t feel a need to protect her. Could he?

“I thought you went to speak with the Oracles?” Roke said to the towering vampire who was regarding him with a narrowed glare.

“They refused to see me.” He folded his arms over his massive chest, testing the limits of endurance for the black T-shirt that was matched with a pair of black leather pants and heavy boots. “Which meant I wasn’t in the mood to return to my lair and discover I’ve been harboring a traitor.”

Sally went rigid at the accusation. “He’s not a traitor,” she blurted out before she could halt the words.

“No?” The King of Vampires turned his alarming attention in her direction. “My guards informed me that Roke took you from this cell against my strict orders, and then with the excuse he was taking you to meet with me, he assisted in your escape.”

“Only because I forced him.”

Styx stepped forward, emphasizing her distinct lack of stature. “You?”

“Yes.” Her chin tilted even as her brain screamed to shut her mouth. Unfortunately, the two weren’t currently connected. “I’m not completely helpless. And, as you see, he brought me back.”

Styx studied her for a long, nerve-wracking minute. “Such a fierce defense of your captor,” he at last murmured.

“I’m not defending him.” She hunched a shoulder, well aware she sounded like an idiot. Crap. Could she blame it on the mating? Obviously it was destroying what few brain cells she had left. “I’m just . . . explaining.”

“Styx.” With a fluid movement, Roke was shifting to stand at Styx’s side, as if he were trying to distract the large vampire from Sally. “I need to speak with you in private.”

She frowned, pretending she didn’t notice her treacherous flare of warmth at Roke’s protective gesture. Instead she sent him a warning scowl.

She’d be damned if she’d be abandoned alone in this dungeon.

Not again.

“Hey, you’re not leaving me here.”

Styx started to offer a condescending smile at her sharp words only to freeze as his gaze caught sight of the markings on her inner arm. “Christ,” he rasped. “Roke, what have you done?”

The Anasso reached to grab her arm, but without warning Roke was slamming into the larger vampire, pinning him to the bars of the nearest cell.

“Don’t touch her,” he growled.

A deathly silence filled the dungeon. A silence even more shocking after the unexpected flurry of violence.

Sally didn’t dare breathe as the two powerful demons glared at one another. Then, curling back his lips to display his enormous fangs, Styx spoke in low, commanding tones.

“Release me, brother.” Enough power filled the air to send Roke stumbling backward. “Now!”

Roke rammed his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack under the strain.

“Dammit,” Roke hissed.

Styx straightened, his warrior features carved from granite. “You’re right, we do need to speak.”

Sally sucked in an unsteady breath as the two men turned, clearly preparing to leave the dungeons without her.

“Roke, if you abandon me here I swear I won’t help with the book.”

Styx halted, sending her a puzzled frown. “What book?” “Sally,” Roke growled.

She slammed her hands onto her hips. It was no doubt suicidal to challenge two of the most powerful vampires she’d ever met, but the mere thought of being locked away overcame any claim to sanity.

“I mean it,” she snapped.

The dark band around the pale, pale eyes narrowed, a sure sign of annoyance. “You aren’t the only witch.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll never find another who has my power, or my familiarity with black magic,” she reminded him. It wasn’t bragging. The gods knew she hated her connection to black magic. It was the simple truth. “You need me.”

For a second they glared at one another in silence, then realizing he was going to eventually need her help, he conceded defeat with all his usual grace.

“Shit,” he growled, turning to stomp his way toward the dungeon door. “She’s coming with us.”

 

 

Peaches.

Roke clenched his teeth as they entered Styx’s private study and the large vampire shut the door behind them.

He was furious with the female. Hell, furious didn’t even cover it. She’d bespelled him, forced him to act against his will, mated him, and now blackmailed him to get out of the dungeons. But, that didn’t keep him from placing a possessive hand on her shoulder as Styx moved past them to lean against a heavy desk that held a computer and several monitors.

And it didn’t halt that maddening scent of peaches from making his fangs ache with a desire to sink them deep into her flesh and taste if her blood were as sweet as that tantalizing perfume.

Folding his arms over his chest, Styx studied Roke’s tense expression before turning his attention to Sally.

“I should warn you, Ms. Grace, that this room has been hexed,” he said, his low voice edged with warning. “Your magic won’t work here.”

Roke snorted. “Actually, you shouldn’t be so certain, old friend.” His gaze slid to the tiny witch at his side. “Ms. Grace is full of surprises.”

“Yes, I suppose she is,” the Anasso murmured. “Are you going to tell me how you two ended up mated?”

Roke watched in fascination as a blush crept beneath Sally’s pale face and for the first time he considered the fact that despite her sharp tongue and foolish courage, she was extremely young.

Why did the thought make him feel like a letch? None of this catastrophe was his fault.

“Do you want the honors?” he growled.

Her blush deepened as she warily met Styx’s unwavering gaze. “I’m part demon.”

The ancient vampire hissed, obviously caught off guard by her confession. “What demon?”

Roke’s lips twisted into a humorless smile.
Welcome to my world, bud.

“I don’t know.” She held up a silencing hand as Styx’s lips parted. “I truly don’t know. But to make a long story short, over the last few years I’ve discovered an ability to . . . coerce people to obey me for short periods of time.”

Roke made a sound of disgust. “Coerce?”

“Maybe it’s more of an enchantment,” she reluctantly conceded. “But I’ve only used it once or twice on humans. Until a few weeks ago it was never strong enough to influence demons, and then it was only a hellhound. I never dreamed it could affect a vampire. It was only because I was desperate I even tried.”