Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) (27 page)

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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

BOOK: Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity)
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Santiago struggled against an instinctive urge to reach for his sword.
Cristo
. His skin was suddenly crawling with the promise of pain. Like he was standing in the eye of a hurricane, just waiting for disaster.
“There are a lot of witches,” he pointed out. Carefully.
“Only one who can break the spell.”
Santiago grimaced. Only one? So was that good news or bad?
Impossible to say.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“She’s in the lair of the Anasso.”
“The Anasso?” Santiago made a sound of disbelief. “Styx is protecting a witch?”
“Sally, Sally, Sally.” Gaius slowly smiled, his eyes once again distant. “She thought she could double-cross me, stupid witch. But she’s made it all so much easier.”
Santiago lowered his brows, wondering if Gaius was referring to the witch who had once been his fellow servant of the Dark Lord.
She must have been desperate if she approached the King of Vampires.
“I still don’t understand what you want from me.”
Gaius studied him with growing impatience. “I want you to get her.”
“From Styx’s lair?”
“Sí
.”
Santiago paused, sending a covert glance toward Tonya, who had shifted as far as possible from Gaius, her arms wrapped around her drawn up knees.
A noose was tightening around his neck and he didn’t have a damned clue how to escape.
“Why not you?”
Gaius’s mocking smile was so familiar that it caught Santiago off guard. Who was in control? Gaius or the spirit?
Or was it perhaps a strange combination of the two?
“I’m not precisely beloved among vampires.”
“Traitors are rarely beloved among any species,” Santiago couldn’t resist reminding him.
Gaius narrowed his gaze. “Soon you will understand.”
Santiago hissed at the sudden promise of violence that brushed over him. “Is that a threat?”
“I would prefer not to use threats.” Gaius reached down to pick up the forgotten dagger, his nonchalance not fooling Santiago for a minute. “All I need you to do is get the witch away from the Anasso’s lair. A simple enough task.”
Right. Sneaking into a lair with a higher grade security system than the Pentagon, not to mention a dozen of the most powerful demons on earth, to snatch a witch who was presumably hiding from the spirit. Yep. Simple as pie.
“Why don’t you use your . . .” He shuddered, forced to recall the creepy sight of walking into the cellar to see himself bent over poor Tonya. “Talent to shape-shift and just become me?”
Gaius smoothly turned to throw the dagger at the doorjamb, proving that for all his fragile appearance he maintained his impressive strength as the blade sunk hilt deep into the wood.
“Styx is already aware of my talent,” he snarled. “He would realize the minute I appeared without your scent that it was me.”
Santiago lowered his gaze to the gold amulet that hung around Gaius’s neck. He could feel the noose tightening with every passing second.
He might not know why Gaius was so anxious to get his hands on this mysterious book, or why it had to be Sally the Witch to do the destroying, but he sure as hell knew it couldn’t be for anything good.
Which meant he had to find a way to stop him.
“Then why not use your medallion?” he hedged. “That’s how you captured Tonya, isn’t it?”
The tightening of Gaius’s lips proved the vampire had already tried to penetrate Styx’s house. “The lair is protected by a spell that prevents portals from being created inside the house,” he grudgingly admitted. “I need you.”
With a regretful glance toward Tonya, Santiago squared his shoulders and spread his feet in preparation for battle.
“No.”
Gaius frowned at the blunt refusal. “My son, don’t be a fool.”
“There’s nothing foolish in loyalty. I will never betray my clan.”
Gaius flinched, then the shame on his gaunt face was replaced by a cunning that sent a chill down Santiago’s spine.
The creature was once again in control.
“So easy to say when there’s no cost to that loyalty,” he purred, lifting his hand as if pointing to something above them.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see how deep your loyalty runs.”
Santiago shifted backward, sensing a sudden flow of fury, although it seemed oddly muted. As if it was being funneled away from him.
Half expecting the ceiling to fall on his head, Santiago instead heard the front door to the lair being wrenched off its hinges followed by the unmistakable blast of Nefri’s power.
“What the hell?”
“Santiago!” Levet called out in warning, then there was a thud, as if he’d been tossed into the wall.
He had half a second to turn toward the door before Nefri was in the room, her hair floating around her exquisitely beautiful face and her eyes glowing with a mindless rage.
Her features had been sharpened, the alabaster skin so perfect it shimmered like the finest silk. And her slender body sculpted with the grace of an Amazon.
She was as nature intended.
An exotic symbol of pure female power.
Santiago stood in speechless wonderment. A mistake, as Nefri’s fierce gaze shifted toward the female imp chained to the wall.
Tonya cried out in fear as Nefri flowed forward, her fangs fully extended and her hands curled into claws.
“Nefri.” He was moving before he could consider the consequences, placing himself between Tonya and the feral vampire. “No.”
Nefri slammed into him with enough force to send him flying into the wall, his teeth rattling from the impact. He grimly ignored his cracked ribs and ice that was beginning to form on his skin as Nefri’s fury blazed over him with frigid force.
He couldn’t stop her. He’d always known in a head to head battle her strength was greater.
But he could try to distract her from Tonya.
After that . . .
Hell, what did it matter? Chances were good he would be dead. He didn’t really need a long-term plan.
With that cheerful thought at the forefront of his mind, he launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Nefri as he struggled to contain her without causing her any injury. He felt her quiver, the sweet scent of jasmine filling his senses as if she were battling against the violence that thrummed through her veins.
But even as a tiny hope began to form, Nefri was wrapping her fingers around his throat and he was lifted off his feet. He grunted, refusing to reach for his weapons. He wouldn’t harm her. No matter what the cost.
Instead, he gazed deep into her eyes, allowing her to see the love that was branded onto his very soul.
A love that he’d never spoken, but had offered in every touch of his hand, in every lingering kiss.
He could only pray that she’d been able to sense what he’d been too cowardly to say.
Assuming the creature in control of Gaius was intent on enjoying his slow, painful death, Santiago found himself abruptly dropped as Nefri released her grip.
Falling to his knees, he glanced up to discover that she was staring blankly at the far wall, clearly oblivious to her surroundings.
Then, Gaius stepped between them, staring down at Santiago with a cruel smile. “I will release her on the world, Santiago,” he purred. “I will release her and the only way to halt her rampage will be to kill her. Are you prepared to sacrifice her for your oh-so-noble loyalty?”
Santiago’s gaze shifted back to the female who had sacrificed so much to protect others, knowing what her choice would be. She would demand that once again she be the one to suffer.
“Damn you,” he rasped, already knowing what his decision would be.
Gaius grimaced, seeming to briefly come to his senses. “We are all damned, my son.”
Chapter 26
Styx’s lair in Chicago
 
Roke had never been the most flamboyant of his brothers. Or the most gregarious.
He was, in fact, a taciturn vampire who was as willing to share his feelings as a rattlesnake.
Tonight, however, there was no doubt of his emotional state. As he paced the carpet of Styx’s study, his moccasins made no sound, but the floor shuddered beneath his feet and the recently repaired chandelier swayed as his power sent tiny quakes through the air.
Leaning against the massive desk, Styx folded his arms over his chest, his expression one of exasperation. “Roke, I understand your precaution, but—”
“No,” Roke interrupted, halting his pacing to glare at his king.
“What if the book is important?”
Still dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and his leather jacket, Roke shoved a hand through his hair. He’d almost ignored Styx’s text that demanded his presence in the study. Unfortunately, it was difficult to ignore a royal summons.
“Then it will still be important a month or even a century from now,” he growled.
“But—”
“No.”
Styx muttered his opinion of pigheaded vampires before he pointed an accusing finger toward Roke. “Has anyone told you that the art of negotiation consists of both sides being willing to compromise?”
“This isn’t a negotiation.” Roke allowed Styx to glimpse his unyielding resolve. “Sally isn’t going anywhere near that warehouse until we discover why that coven was slaughtered. And who did it.”
They matched each other glare for glare, both too alpha to back down.
Then, with a shake of his head, Styx straightened from the desk. “Dammit. I’ll have Jagr do some research,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing in warning. “You need to concentrate on tracing Sally’s family tree. The sooner you break the mating bond, the better.”
Roke clenched his jaw, caught off guard by the raw stab of fury at Styx’s callous words.
Magical trickery or not, the bond felt as real as any other mating.
Not that he was about to admit as much. To anyone. Instead he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You mean I’m actually allowed to leave Chicago?”
A punishing hint of pain crawled over his skin. A promise of what was possible if he truly pissed off his king.
“You’ve never been a prisoner, Roke,” Styx said, arrogantly discounting his refusal to allow Roke to return to Nevada. “But why would you need to leave?”
“It’s not like I can hop on demon ancestry dot com,” he pointed out dryly. “If I’m going to pin down Sally’s father, then I’ll need to retrace her mother’s footsteps.”
Styx scowled, but having already commanded Roke to find a way to break the mating, he could hardly forbid him from taking the steps necessary to discover the source of Sally’s demon blood.
“I don’t want you going alone,” he at last muttered.
“I’ll have Sally with me,” Roke said, pretending the thought of having the exquisite little witch far away from the constant surveillance of Styx and his guards didn’t send a flare of treacherous heat through his blood.
Who would ever know if he decided to steal a taste of her peach sweetness?
Dammit, no. She was off limits, he grimly reminded himself. Whether they were being watched or not.
The towering Aztec gave a shake of his head. “Not good enough.”
Roke made a sound of impatience. “You just said I wasn’t a prisoner.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re going to meddle among witches without protection.”
“Styx . . .”
A shrill chirp interrupted Roke’s protest and Styx offered a mocking grin as he reached for the cell phone on his desk and said, “Hold that thought.”
Roke bared his fangs as Styx pressed the phone to his ear, but his seething frustration was forgotten as Styx hissed in shock, a blast of his frigid power nearly knocking Roke backward.
Shoving the phone into the front pocket of his leather pants, Styx was heading toward the door, a force of nature that could destroy everything and everyone in his path.
“Come with me,” he commanded.
Roke swiftly followed his king out of the study and down the hallway. “What is it?”
“Spike said that Santiago just arrived.”
Roke lifted a surprised brow. The last they’d heard, Santiago was hot on the trail of his former sire. “He has news?”
“I suspect it’s more than that.”
Styx’s power was making the lights flicker and the priceless portraits tremble on the wall. Instinctively Roke reached to pull free the dagger he’d tucked into the sheath hidden in his knee-high moccasin.
Something was wrong.
“Why?”
“When Spike told Santiago I was in my study, Santiago said that he was here on an errand from an old friend from Rome,” Styx explained.
Roke frowned. “Does that mean something to you?”
“Gaius.”
Roke instantly understood Styx’s concern. Was Santiago sending a warning or a threat?
In either case, they needed to be prepared for the worst.
“What do you want from me?”
The vampire pulled out the massive sword strapped to his back. “Find Jagr and tell him to start a search of the grounds.”
They had reached the stairs when Roke grasped his companion’s shoulder and pulled him to a halt. “Styx.”
The Anasso sent him a frown of impatience. “What?”
“I know Santiago is a trusted brother, but Gaius is his sire,” he reminded his king. In the heat of the moment it was too easy to overlook the obvious. “That’s a bond not easily broken.”
Styx’s expression was as hard as granite. “I don’t question Santiago’s loyalty, but I’m not blind to the fact a vampire can be torn by a competing allegiance.” He grimaced. “Either to Gaius, or to Tonya.”
“The imp?”
“She’s been a part of his family for a long time.”
“Then you realize that you shouldn’t face Santiago alone.”
Styx grunted as he was neatly cornered by his own admission that Santiago might prove to be a danger.
“Cristo,”
he muttered. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“I try.”
Pulling out his cell phone, Roke hit Jagr’s number and concisely revealed what was happening with Santiago’s arrival and Styx’s order to start a search of the grounds.
The Anasso gave a rueful shake of his head before turning to jog up the stairs. “This way.”
Roke was swiftly at his side, baffled as he realized they were headed toward the private wing of the house. “The bedrooms? What could he . . .” With a startled hiss, he came to a halt on the landing.
“Roke?”
Roke ignored his impatient companion, his hand lifting to press to his unbeating heart.
There was a tight ball of . . . what? Fear? Anger? Pain?
Actually it felt like a strange combination of all three.
He rubbed the spot in the center of his chest, baffled by the unfamiliar sensation. The feelings were inside him, but they weren’t his.
Insanity.
No, wait.
It wasn’t insanity.
It was . . .
“Sally,” he growled.
His muscles suddenly clenched, a fear that was all his own catapulting him into action.
He moved down the hallway with a fluid speed, absently sensing Styx keeping pace while his concentration was entirely focused on his connection to his mate.
“Talk to me, Roke,” Styx commanded.
“Sally’s in danger.” He reached the door to her private rooms and threw it open. “Shit.”
Even prepared, the empty room hit Roke like a blow to the gut. Charging over the threshold, he released his hunter instincts, discovering the scent of a male vampire combined with the rich smell of peaches.
His mind clouded with pure possessive anger.
A male had forced his way into Sally’s room. He’d put his hands on her. And then, he had the balls to try and take her away.
Roke would see him in hell first.
Headed toward the open window, he was momentarily distracted by the faint scent of blood. Lowering himself to his knees, he discovered a small red stain on the carpet.
The ceiling cracked and the drywall crumbled as his fury went nuclear.
“Goddammit,” he snarled. “I’ll kill him.”
Wise enough not to startle a vampire on the edge of murder, Styx cautiously hunkered down beside him, his voice soothing. “Roke, it’s only a drop. She’s not badly hurt.”
“Yet.”
Styx grimaced. “Why the hell would he take her?”
“I intend to find out,” Roke muttered, shoving himself upright and through the window in one smooth motion.
Behind him Styx blistered the air with curses, but Roke never slowed as he hit the ground and followed the scent of peaches through the moonlight that spilled over the manicured parkland.
Reaching the back gate, he caught the smell of yet another male vampire. This one laced with an unmistakable rot of madness.
Gaius?
Not that he gave a shit.
The need to rescue Sally was thundering through his veins, leaving no room for logical thought or strategies.
But as he stepped through the open gate, he was forced to an enraged halt.
The trail ended.
Just like that.
There one step and gone the next.
He tilted back his head to roar with a savage frustration, indifferent to the scamper of terrified wildlife that darted into the nearby woods.
The sound was still echoing through the trees when Jagr and two of his Ravens appeared from around the corner of the high fence.
“Where is he?” Roke demanded.
Looking every inch the Visigoth chief, Jagr clutched a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other. Not that either was as dangerous as the lethal fangs that were primed for maximum damage.
“I don’t know.” The ice blue gaze continued to scan the woods that provided privacy for Styx’s lair from his distant neighbors. “I caught a glimpse of him going through the back gate, but before I could get here he’d disappeared.”
“Sally?” he managed to rasp between clenched teeth.
Jagr dipped his head. “The witch was with him.”
Styx stepped through the gate, studying the tracks that halted directly in front of them. “Gaius must have used his medallion,” he said before turning his attention to Roke. “Can you sense Sally?”
Struggling against his primitive instincts that rebelled at wasting even a second, Roke forced himself to close his eyes and concentrate on his mating bond. It was there. Oddly . . . muffled. As if something was trying to mask her presence from him. But there was no mistaking his sense of her just a few miles north of them.
“It’s muted, but she’s not far,” he said, opening his eyes to watch Jagr and Styx exchange a startled glance.
“Is the medallion limited in how far it can carry more than one person?” the large Visigoth asked.
Styx shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Then why—” Jagr bit off his words as there was an unmistakable shift in the air pressure before the scent of granite filled the air. “Shit.”
The male vampires turned, their expressions varying from resignation to outright disgust as Levet seemed to step from thin air, closely followed by Yannah.
Either unaware, or just indifferent, to his frigid reception, the tiny gargoyle gave a violent flutter of his wings, his tail standing at stiff attention.
“Mon dieu”,
he breathed, clearly frazzled. “I hate traveling that way.”
With a superior smile that all females perfected before leaving the cradle, Yannah smoothed the sleeve of her long white robe. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“A baby?” Levet puffed out his chest, looking more like a bantam chicken than a fearsome gargoyle. “Why I—”
“Levet, is there a purpose for your unexpected visit?” Styx said as he sternly broke into the brewing squabble.
Levet immediately forgot his grievances and waddled toward the King of Vampires, his expression troubled. “Nefri.”
There was a collective mutter of unease as Styx glared down at the gargoyle.
The mystique of Nefri was great enough that the mere thought that she was anything less than impervious to danger was . . . troublesome.
“What about her?” Styx demanded.
“When Gaius kidnapped Tonya she knew that Gaius was plotting to use Santiago.”
Styx grimaced. “And she was right?”
“Oui.”
Levet hunched his shoulders, his ugly features scrunched in distress. “We traveled to Gaius’s lair and Nefri asked me to stay hidden so I would know what was occurring. She wanted to make sure I could go for help in the event that things went . . .” He waved his hands as words failed him.
“To hell?” Styx offered.
The gargoyle nodded. “To hell.”
Clever of Nefri to make certain they could be warned, Roke silently acknowledged, but his shattering need to return to his hunt for Sally made him growl deep in his throat. Only the thought that the gargoyle might have some necessary clue to his mate’s rescue kept him from charging through the darkness alone.
As if sensing his burning frustration, Styx reached to place a hand on his shoulder even as his gaze remained trained on the tiny demon. “What does Gaius want with Santiago?”
Levet wrinkled his snout. “He pretended he desired a reconciliation, but all he truly desired was for Santiago to sneak into your lair for the witch.”
“Sally?” Roke stepped forward, his fierce intensity making Levet take a hasty step backward and Yannah move to the gargoyle’s side as if to offer her protection. “Why?”
“She’s the only one who can destroy some spell around a book,” he hurriedly admitted, his hands rising in a gesture of peace. “I do not know any more, I swear.”
“Do you think it could be the same book?” Styx muttered in astonishment.

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