Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) (32 page)

Nefri went for his neck, her fangs instead sinking into the Anasso’s forearm, which he raised to block her. His other hand shot out, gripping her lower face as he prepared to crush her jaws.

“Styx,” Santiago called. “Don’t hurt her.”

The king turned his head to regard him with a furious disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

“If you damage Nefri the creature will simply take control of you, then we’ll never stop it,” he warned.

Nefri’s power was off the charts.

Styx, however, had gained a connection to thousands of vampires who called him their Anasso. If the spirit’s infection could be transferred through his bond to his people . . .
mierda
.

Perhaps following his line of reasoning, Styx strained to contain the rabid vampire trying to chew her way through his arm, shifting his attention to Roke and the witch, who were kneeling next to the safe.

“Sally,” he commanded.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”

The pretty witch wrinkled her nose as she rose to her feet, reaching into the safe to pull out a book.

Or at least, he thought it was a book.

There was a hazy, insubstantial quality to it, as if it weren’t entirely solid.

Typical.

Was anything what it seemed to be anymore?

Carefully she walked forward, an anxious Roke hovering next to her.

It was only as the witch neared Nefri that Santiago realized the fierce power that had been pulsing through the room had abruptly diminished.

Was Nefri so consumed by her bloodlust that the spirit had lost control of her?

Or was the approaching book draining its powers?

He had his answer when Nefri abruptly turned, her mouth bloody and her eyes glowing.

“No,” she snarled, headed straight for the witch.

With a roar, Roke was shoving Sally behind him and meeting Nefri’s charge.

“Dammit,” Styx muttered, diving forward to grab Nefri with his one good arm. His other was a mangled mess. “Santiago, help me.”

Santiago instantly moved to wrap his arms around Nefri, realizing it was going to be impossible to convince Roke not to do his best to kill Nefri.

The male vampire’s mate was in danger.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her.

Just as there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect Nefri.

Trapping her arms against her slender body while Styx looped his arm around her waist, they pulled her away from the infuriated Roke.

It was a struggle, but the fact that they’d managed to contain Nefri at all was yet another sign that the spirit’s resources were being rapidly drained.

“Sally, finish this,” Styx commanded between clenched teeth.

The witch tried to step past her bristling mate only to be halted when he grabbed her arm and growled low in his throat.

“Roke,” she murmured, her expression pleading. “You have to let me go.”

He bared his fangs, any sanity lost beneath the primitive instinct to protect his mate. “No.”

“We have to end this now,” she said softly.

“She’s right,” a female voice said as a jolt of electric energy penetrated, and then smothered, the power surging from the vampires.

No one had to turn to know who had so unexpectedly crashed the party.

Siljar was the only one who could make such a spectacular entrance and overwhelm even the most dominant vampires.

Slowly the tiny demon moved to stand at Sally’s side, her black almond eyes unblinking and her heart-shaped face somber. Wearing her traditional white robe and her silver hair pulled into a braid, she had the regal bearing of a queen.

“Let her go, vampire,” she commanded.

“Shit.”

With a glare that should have made the Oracle spontaneously combust, Roke grudgingly released his hold on the witch. Even lost in primordial instincts, a demon understood there was no fighting one of the Commission.

“I’ll be fine.” Lifting her hand, Sally gently touched his cheek before turning back to Nefri with a bleak resolution.

As expected, Nefri went wild as the witch moved forward.

Styx cursed, grunting as one of Nefri’s arms came free so she could rake her claws down his face.

“Dammit, Santiago, hold on to her.”

Santiago’s knee shattered beneath the impact of Nefri’s kick, and a rib cracked from the swinging elbow.

“I’m trying,” he muttered, regaining control of her arms only to have her jerk her head backward to bust Styx’s nose.

“Try harder,” the king gritted, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Together they slowly halted her struggles, her screams of frustration becoming whimpers of fear as Sally pressed the book against her stomach.

“If I die, she dies,” the spirit warned, the glowing gaze turning toward Santiago. “Do you hear me, Santiago? This host will die just as Gaius did.”

Siljar stepped forward. “Don’t listen.”

Yeah, easy for her to say.

Already he could begin to detect the damage being done to her exquisite face. Not that he gave a shit what she looked like. His love for Nefri wasn’t about flesh and bone. But the fear that she would be destroyed along with the spirit threatened to tip him over the edge.

“You have a minute to do what you have to do,” he hissed. “After that . . . I make no promises.”

Siljar rolled her eyes, muttering something about leeches beneath her breath. Then she shifted her attention to Sally.

“I will need your assistance, witch.”

Sally grimaced, her face drenched in sweat and her slender body trembling as she continued to hold the strange book against Nefri. “I don’t know anything about sorcery,” she said, her voice strained.

“I will start the weave; I just need you to help hold the threads.”

It all sounded like gibberish to Santiago, but Sally gave a hesitant nod. “Okay.”

Siljar closed her eyes and held out her tiny hands. “Let’s begin.”

Santiago was vaguely aware of Roke moving to support Sally’s swaying body and Styx’s hiss of pain as Nefri gave him another head butt, but his sole focus was on the woman wrapped in his arms.

He felt her shudder, her skin turning ashen as the witch and Oracle performed their mystical voodoo.

“Don’t leave me, Nefri,” he husked. “Don’t you dare leave me again.”

The glow began to fade from her eyes and for a horrified moment, Santiago thought he was truly losing her.

No.

He tightened his arms, silently
willing
her to survive.

At first he could feel nothing. As if she’d already slipped away from him. Then, as he stubbornly refused to concede defeat, he felt a . . . spark. The tiniest awareness of the female he adored beyond all bearing.

A relief so vast it threatened to send him to his knees flooded through him, and ignoring the crowd watching their every move, he gently cupped her face.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

Her brows drew together as she struggled to focus on his face. “Santiago.”

“I’m here.”

She gave a slow, painful nod. “I need . . .”

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you to promise me.”

He leaned closer despite Styx’s growl of warning, trying to catch her soft words. “Promise you what?”

“Promise me you won’t let the spirit control me again.”

“Siljar is here with the witch,” he tried to soothe, knowing that losing control of her body and power was her worst nightmare come true. “They’re going to get rid of it.”

She lifted her hand to weakly clutch at his arm. “If it gets loose again, I want you to swear you’ll kill me before allowing it to use me.”

A part of him wanted to offer comfort.

To say whatever was necessary to ease her fears.

But, a larger part understood he couldn’t lie.

Not to a woman he intended to spend the rest of eternity with.

“No.”

Her dark eyes filled with a fear that sent a stab of agony through his heart.

“Santiago, I couldn’t bear it,” she pleaded, her face still ashen and drawn with weariness. “You know I couldn’t.”

“And I can’t bear to lose you,” he said with a blunt honesty. He’d intended to save his proclamation of love until a more appropriate time. Like when the current life or death situation was over. Perhaps at a location that could be considered at least a little romantic. And at the very least, he’d intended for them to be alone. Now, he accepted that the time or place was meaningless. If the past few months had taught him nothing else, it was that there was no promise of tomorrow. He wasn’t wasting another second without telling this woman what she meant to him. “You are my very reason for living.”

The dark eyes softened with a love that he could tangibly feel flowing between them even as her expression remained set in stubborn lines. “But . . .”

“No.” He brushed his lips over the chilled skin of her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “Ask me to be your mate. Ask me to stand at your side for the rest of eternity. Ask me to love and honor and respect you,” he husked. “But don’t ask me to sacrifice you. I can’t.”

“There will be no further sacrifices required,” Siljar said in a weary voice. “At least not today.”

Santiago glanced up to discover Roke carrying an unconscious Sally toward the door and Siljar leaning against a pile of rubble. He frowned as he realized the book had disappeared.

“Where’s the spirit?”

Siljar grimaced, her devastating power for once muted. “It has been sent to the Commission. There are those qualified to keep it imprisoned.”

Nefri regained her balance, although she allowed Santiago to keep a protective arm around her shoulders. She already sensed that there wasn’t a power on this earth that could force him to release his hold on her.

Besides, she liked the solid weight. It reminded her that after endless centuries of being alone, she now had a companion she not only trusted, but who filled her heart with a joy she’d never dreamed was possible.

This man.

This glorious, irreverent, sexy vampire she loved without condition.

The man she intended to claim as her mate.

At least once she could be absolutely certain the danger was over.

“Why didn’t you destroy it?” she demanded of the Oracle, belatedly noticing that the tiny demon looked as drained as Nefri felt.

“Because none of us could be certain what would happen if we did.”

Styx stepped forward, his arm still healing from her savage attack and his face bloody. “Cryptic as ever, Siljar,” he accused her.

“Not cryptic. The simple truth,” Siljar answered, one of the few demons in the world not terrified of the King of Vampires. “The creature is dangerous, but it did spawn vampires as well as other species of demons.” She shrugged. “To destroy it might very well damage its offspring in ways we can’t predict.”

Nefri gave a grudging nod. Life and death were a far more delicate balance than most people realized.

“So it’s in that . . .” She struggled to remember through the haze that had clouded her mind. Hadn’t the witch been pressing something against her? Something that had driven the spirit from her body? Ah, yes. “Book?”

“It’s trapped in a vacuum between time and space,” the Oracle said. “So long as it’s properly monitored it won’t be allowed to escape.”

“Shouldn’t you have thought of that before sending Nefri’s clan into danger?” Santiago asked, as always living on the edge.

Thankfully, Siljar didn’t appear offended. Instead she gave a lift of her brows. “Nefri’s clan?”

Santiago tightened his arm around her. “
Our
clan.”

Siljar smiled in satisfaction. Not the most reassuring sight considering the razor sharp teeth. “The sorcery created by the witches was enough to hold it prisoner for centuries.”

Santiago lifted a brow. “So you had no nefarious purpose in allowing Nefri to lead her people beyond the Veil?”

“She came to me with a request for a place of peace.”

“And?” Santiago pressed, ignoring Nefri’s frown. He wasn’t fooled for a moment by the Oracles display of innocence.

The tiny demon gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “And we hoped that having her people living beyond the Veil would give us an early warning if the spirit did start to waken.”

Before Santiago could say something even more stupid than usual, Nefri smoothly cut him off. “But the spirit never disturbed my clan,” she pointed out. “At least, not that we ever noticed.”

The dark eyes suddenly held a deep, unfathomable wisdom. “Unfortunately, we didn’t realize how thin the walls between dimensions had become. The spirit was able to remain hidden while manipulating a handful of vampires into killing the witches, and then slipping past the Veil using Gaius’s medallion.”

Styx snorted at the understatement. Nefri didn’t blame him. The thinning of barriers had been more than unfortunate. It had been a breath from the apocalyptic.

“Oh yeah, and while the spirit was sneaking around, we were all nearly killed by the Dark Lord,” he said dryly. “You remember that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Siljar squared her shoulders, smoothing her hands down the robe that was once again a pristine white. “The Commission was concentrating on trying to locate several missing prisoners that escaped through the weakened dimensions while you put an end to the threat.”

“Several?” Nefri muttered as the two males hissed in shock. “Do you mean—”

“Do you have the medallion?” Siljar interrupted, holding out an imperious hand.

Santiago hesitated, clearly consumed by a need to demand a further explanation of the missing prisoners.

Such as whether they’d been captured or were lurking in the shadows to cause yet another catastrophe.

Thankfully, her sharp elbow to his ribs helped him recall the dangers of antagonizing a member of the Commission.

With a grimace he dug into his pocket and pulled out the medallion. Nefri lightly touched his arm, knowing he would be suffering from the loss of his sire.

No matter what Gaius had done, they’d shared a connection that could never be truly broken.

“Here,” he muttered gruffly.

“I’ll take it.” Siljar reached up to snatch it from his hand.

Santiago frowned. “It needs to be destroyed.”

“It will be taken care of,” Siljar promised, and with a wave of her hand, the medallion disappeared.

Whether it was hidden in the folds of her robe, or something more mysterious, was impossible to know.

Santiago wasn’t satisfied. “Taken care of? Does that mean destroyed?”

Siljar offered her unnerving smile. “I must go.” She paused to bid Nefri a low bow. “Nefri. We are in your debt.”

Straightening, the tiny demon disappeared, leaving behind three vampires who were struggling to accept that they had actually survived.

“Someday . . .” Styx growled.

“Not now, Styx,” Santiago said in soft but startlingly commanding tones.

“But . . .” Styx turned to glare at Santiago, then seeming to catch some unspoken message, he slowly smiled. “Right. I’ll leave you to it.”

They watched in silence as the massive vampire left the ruined room in a less dramatic fashion than Siljar. Still, it wasn’t until they could sense the Anasso jogging away from the warehouse that Santiago grasped Nefri’s shoulders and gently turned her to meet his somber gaze.

His lips parted, but Nefri had been waiting from the moment she’d been released from control of the spirit to offer her apology.

Not that an “I’m sorry” actually made up for trying to kill your lover
, she wryly admitted.

“Santiago,” she began, only to be outmaneuvered when Santiago placed his hand over her mouth.

“It’s over.”

She grasped his wrist to tug his hand away. “But I need to say I’m—”

“No.”

She arched a brow at his arrogant tone. “No?”

“From this point forward, the past is done,” he said, his eyes dark with a plea that tugged at her heart. “The only thing that matters is the future. Our future.”

She hesitated, desperately wanting to accept his offer.

How many years had she wasted with guilt and regret?

How long had she denied her emotions out of fear?

“You think that’s possible?”

His smile held an edge of sadness that spoke of his own loss. “We’ve both spent too long being haunted by events that neither of us could control.” He cupped her face in his hands, his touch tender. “I want a fresh start. Don’t we deserve it?”

She didn’t know if they deserved it.

Her past wasn’t entirely blameless. And the gods knew that Santiago was not an innocent.

But, deserving or not, her heart urged her to snatch at the happiness with both hands.

Well, after she’d tormented Santiago just a bit. He’d certainly done his share of tormenting over the past weeks.

“I’m not entirely certain,” she murmured.

His brows drew together, his struggle against his instinct to toss her over his shoulder and demand capitulation etched on his beautiful face.

Their combined arrogance and demand for control would make life together a delicious battle.

“Why?” he at last rasped.

She offered a faux pout. “You hit me on the head.”

“Ah.” His frustration melted to wry amusement. “Yes, I know.”

“That’s it?” she demanded. “‘Yes, I know’?”

He reached to curl her hand into a fist, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “You can hit me on the head if you want.”

She trembled, heat exploding through her veins to sear away the lingering chill from the spirit.

“As hard as your head is, it would probably break my hand,” she teased, moving forward to press against his lean body.

“True.” He smiled with a wicked promise that made her toes curl in anticipation. “Which means you might as well mate with me instead.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“It makes perfect sense to me.” He wrapped his arms around her, studying her upturned face with a possessive satisfaction. “You and I make perfect sense to me. Be my mate.”

Her heart soared, but there was one last hurdle they had to confront.

“What about my clan?” she reminded him softly. She’d already prepared to step down from being chief. Her people would always have her loyalty, but nothing was more important than Santiago. “Eventually I’ll be able to turn the leadership over to another. But for now—”

“I’m not asking you to choose between me and your clan, Nefri,” he interrupted her, frowning as if he was baffled she would even suggest the idea.

“But your life is here.”

Without warning he leaned down to kiss her with a blatant claim of ownership.

One she met with her own claim.

“My life is with you,” he said against her lips.

And that’s why she’d bonded with this vampire out of all the thousands and thousands of men she’d known over the centuries, she silently acknowledged, feeling as sappy as any overhormonal teenage girl.

He was arrogant and stubborn and possessive to the point of insanity, but he never tried to make her feel like she should apologize for her power.

He made her feel . . . proud.

Of herself. Of him. Of the partnership they were creating together.

“You could accept living beyond the Veil?” she pressed, needing him to be sure.

“Of course.” The wicked smile widened, giving a flash of fang. “I intend to open a fight club with a few fairies who know how to enjoy an orgy. . . .”

“Santiago,” she growled.

He chuckled, brushing his lips over her forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you that you make it too easy?”

“Actually I intend to make it very hard,” she warned. “Maybe if I keep you busy enough I can keep you out of trouble.”

With one smooth motion he scooped her off her feet, cradling her tight against his chest as he headed for the door.

“But you like trouble,” he reminded her, his expression promising all sorts of sinful havoc.

She looped her arms around his neck, the emotions she’d denied for so long flowing freely through her like the finest champagne.

“Actually, I
love
trouble.”

 

 

Santiago stood with Viper in the corner of Styx’s formal salon.

It had been three nights since they’d managed to . . . to what? He grimaced. He couldn’t claim they’d defeated the spirit. But at least it was contained and now in the hands of the Commission.

Since then he’d devoted his time to keeping Nefri tucked in his arms. Not only because his insatiable hunger for her was a constant ache, but because he was determined to make certain she was completely recovered before returning to her duties.

Unfortunately, Nefri had decided she couldn’t possibly be mated anywhere but in her private lair beyond the Veil.

So while he was fiercely happy to have her in his bed, he was growing restless to complete their mating.

Only when they’d shared their blood and bonded on the most primitive level would he be satisfied.

Tonight . . .

A tingle of anticipation raced through him as he watched Nefri move through the crowd that Styx had invited to send them off to the Veil.

He would have refused Styx’s offer of a party if he hadn’t known that powerful vampires from around the world had flocked to the Anasso’s home in the hopes of meeting the mysterious Nefri.

And if he were being perfectly honest, he enjoyed watching the guests fluttering around her in obvious awe.

She looked like the perfect ice queen dressed in a silver robe that brushed the floor and her hair falling in a river of ebony satin down her back.

Aloof and untouchable.

Until he had her alone.

Ready heat swirled through him, making him shift in discomfort.

How much longer did he have to play nice?

He’d shared his beautiful mate long enough.

He was ready to get her alone.

And naked.

Definitely naked.

Perhaps sensing he needed a distraction before he went “caveman” and simply hauled her off, Viper moved to stand at his side.

“Are you sure about this?” his former clan chief asked, looking like a Regency dandy in his ivory velvet coat trimmed in gold thread complete with knee breeches. His long silver hair was pulled back with a matching velvet ribbon and his midnight black eyes held a lazy amusement that didn’t entirely disguise his lethal power. “Living with a clan chief isn’t easy.”

“Never more sure,” Santiago answered without hesitation, a smile of utter contentment curving his lips. “And she’s a very special clan chief.”

“You got me there,” Viper admitted. “Still . . .”

“What?”

“You’re leaving me in the lurch here.”

Santiago laughed at his companion’s petulant tone. “Why, Viper, I didn’t know you cared.”

Viper snorted. “You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re one of the best managers I’ve ever had. Who the hell is going to replace you at the club?”

“Tonya.”

Viper hesitated, considering Santiago’s recommendation with a frown. “She has the brains,” he slowly conceded. “But she’s distinctly lacking the brawn.”

Santiago shrugged. He didn’t doubt for a minute that the shrewd imp could easily fill his shoes. And he owed her one. Not only for what had happened with Gaius, but because of the fact he’d failed to realize she’d hoped for more than a mere employer-employee relationship.