Bound By Darkness (10 page)
Authors: Alexandra Ivy
“These tunnels are suffocating me,” he rasped. “I need fresh air.”
“You cannot leave the caves. Do not forget you are being hunted.”
Tearloch jerked back toward the wizard with a fierce glare. At the moment he was hot, frustrated, and in the mood to blame the damned wizard for all his troubles.
“I'm not likely to forget. Not when I'm being buried alive like I'm a damned rock troll.” He shuddered. “Why did you insist we come here?”
“These caves were my home for centuries.” Rafael's own expression was ... loving, as he glanced around the smoothly carved room. Of course, he'd spent the past months in hell. Anything was bound to seem like the Ritz. “My power is greatest here as well as my ability to protect you.”
“It reeks of blood.”
“You know as well as I that the Dark Lord demands a sacrifice for his gifts.”
Tearloch gave another shudder, ancient memories threatening to sear through the fog clouding his mind.
“Yes.”
“Do not waver now, Tearloch.” Without warning, the spirit was standing at Tearloch's side, his clammy hand touching his shoulder. “Not when we are so close.”
Tearloch shook off his hand, a strange ache pulsing behind his eyes.
“You say we are close and yet you offer more delays,” he growled, struck by a sudden urge to find a place to lie down. He was tired. So tired. “I'm beginning to wonder if there's a conspiracy among magic-users to prevent the resurrection.”
The wizard allowed a hint of anger to touch his gaunt face. “If you wish to assign blame then you may point your finger at the damnable Weres. It was their battle with the demon lord that destroyed my altar and closed the conduit I had opened to my prince.” His fingers grasped the heavy pendant. “It will take time to restore all that I have lost.”
Tearloch backed away.
He didn't give a damn about Weres or demon lords or any other pathetic excuses.
The Dark Lord had reached beyond his prison to touch Tearloch with a searing demand to be set free.
Until he'd managed to resurrect his master there would be no peace.
“You have a week,” he snapped, heading toward the opening of the cavern. “Fail me, wizard, and I'll banish you back to hell.”
Chapter 7
Jaelyn walked through the long, steel-lined corridor, knowing on some level she was dreaming.
Not that it didn't feel real.
Terrifyingly real.
She shivered at the sensation of the white silk robe that covered her from neck to toe brushing against her skin. At the familiar hum of the florescent lights. At the cool air that stirred her hair, which spilled down her back.
She was back in the private compound owned by the Addonexus.
There was no mistaking the military perfection of the steel passageways that were carved beneath the Tibetan mountain, or the ventilated air that remained a monotonous sixty-five degrees.
Nor was there any mistaking where she was headed.
This wasn't the first occasion she'd been locked in this particular nightmare. But like every other time, Jaelyn was powerless to halt the unfolding drama that clenched her stomach with dread.
Trapped, Jaelyn continued down the corridor until she reached the heavy metal door at the end. Without hesitation she pushed it open and stepped into the dark room beyond. Too late she sensed the waiting vampire as he uncloaked directly beside her.
“Samuel?” She turned her head to regard the pale-haired vampire with more surprise than alarm. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” A disarming grin spread across the handsome face, the blue eyes twinkling.
Jaelyn wasn't fooled by the boyish charm. She knew the cunning predator who lurked just beneath the golden good looks. Still, she wasn't prepared for the man to dart forward, snapping a thick, silver collar around her throat.
She hissed in pain, her hands lifting to tug at the collar that was searing into her skin.
“What the hell?”
Samuel's smile widened. “Surprised?”
She warily backed into the center of the room, futilely attempting to remove the collar even as her senses spread through the sparsely furnished office to make certain there weren't any other attackers looming in the shadows.
Better late than never, right?
“I was summoned by Kostas,” she said. “He's not going to be pleased when he finds out you've been screwing around in his office.”
Samuel clicked his tongue, his expression mocking. “I've warned you that you should never take anything at face value, sweetie. Your weakness has always been your habit of trusting others.”
Damn.
She dropped her hands, a cold dread forming in the pit of her stomach.
She'd been brought to the compound only a few years after Samuel. For thirty years they'd trained side by side, sometimes as partners and sometimes as opponents. And for thirty years he'd tried to lure her into his bed.
But in this moment she wasn't feeling the whole BFF vibe.
In fact, there was an ugly glint in the blue eyes that made her inner alarms clang.
“You sent the message?” she demanded, inching back until her butt hit the edge of the walnut desk.
She wasn't trying to escape. At least not yet. Instead she was judging the precise measurements of the room. Six feet from the door to the two wing chairs beside the bookcase. Three feet to the file cabinets in the corner. Two feet from the desk to the wall.
During a fight it was vital to be familiar with her surroundings.
Tripping over a piece of furniture could mean the difference between life and death.
Samuel smiled with cocky confidence as he strolled toward her, his muscular body shown to advantage in the black running shorts that were all that covered him.
“You should have made sure the note was genuine before you left your rooms.”
Yeah. Master of the Obvious.
“I'm assuming that Kostas isn't going to be making an appearance?”
“No, we're all alone.”
She licked her dry lips. “What do you want?”
His gaze traveled down her body. “You know, my dear, there was a time when I might have been satisfied having you in my bed.”
She didn't bother to disguise her grimace. “Never.”
“There's no need to rub it in,” he chided. “You've made your lack of interest painfully clear.”
“So now you think you can force me?”
“Jaelyn.” Genuine indignation darkened the blue eyes. “I would never rape a woman. Surely you know me better than that?”
She refused to react as he allowed his powers to fill the air. A Hunter never revealed weakness. Not even when her skin beneath the silver collar was being scorched to a crisp and a frigid pressure threatened to crack a rib.
“Actually, I don't think I know you at all, Samuel,” she said, her voice carefully devoid of emotion. No use provoking the crazy vampire. “If you don't want sex, then what do you want?”
He shrugged. “I'm not an animal, but I am ambitious.”
“Big shocker,” she muttered.
Since her arrival at the compound she'd been aware of Samuel's insatiable obsession with gaining the approval of the Ruah. She truly thought he would get on his knees and kiss Kostas's ass if it would earn him brownie points.
“So long as you're around I'm always going to come in second place.”
“Second place?” She frowned at the bitterness in his voice. “Are we in a competition I didn't know about?”
“We've been competing since we were brought here, sweetie.” He reached to grasp her chin in a crushing grip. “Of all the recruits the two of us have emerged the strongest. Why else do you think the Ruah have pitted us against one another over and over?”
She made no effort to escape his hold, still hoping to bring an end to the madness without violence.
“I thought we were supposed to be a team?”
“There's only room for one at the top.” His smile faded to reveal the cold, empty hunger that burned deep in his eyes. “And since I'm honest enough to admit that I can't win in a fair fight, I've decided to get rid of you with less than honorable means.”
Okay.
Any hope of ending this with a smile and a handshake died a painful death.
“This is crazy, Samuel,” she breathed. “I'm not your enemy.”
“But you are.” He tightened his grip, her jaw cracking beneath the strain. “So long as you exist you will always be the golden child of the Addonexus.”
She hissed at the pain flooding through her body. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You'll always be given the best assignments, along with the glory.”
“What glory? We work in secret.”
He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge the truth of her accusation.
“No. I won't live in your shadow.”
“Samuel ...”
She slumped forward, as if overcome by the silver poisoning her body and sapping her strength. Instinctively he reached to catch her, which was all the opening Jaelyn needed. Using his forward momentum to her advantage, she grasped his arms and flipped him over her hip.
He cursed, landing on his feet at an awkward angle. He swiftly recovered. He was, after all, blessed with the same gifts that she was. But it gave her just enough room to leap over the desk, covertly snatching the letter opener out of its stand on the way.
Samuel straightened, his eyes glittering with a hate he'd kept hidden for years.
“You'll pay for that, bitch.”
Jaelyn didn't bother to respond, her concentration narrowed to the smooth pearl handle of the letter knife that was clutched in her fingers and the distance to her opponent's heart. Samuel's problem had always been his love for the dramatic.
Jaelyn was a killer. Cold, clean, efficient.
Samuel was a braggart.
“Nothing to say before you die?” he taunted, reaching behind his back to pull out the handgun he'd tucked in the waistband of his shorts. “No pleas for mercy? Or perhaps you'd rather barter? Are you ready to spread your legs now, my dear?”
She balanced her weight, her gaze never wavering from the center of his chest.
The silver was draining her strength at a dangerous pace. She would have one chance to strike.
She intended to make it a killing blow.
“Fine, I'll make up some cool shit for you when I describe your death scene for the poor, grieving Ruah.”
She sensed the moment his finger squeezed the trigger, and with one fluid motion she was leaping through the air. The bullet sliced through her lower calf, but she ignored the pain as she landed directly before him. She would have a fraction of a second before he could shoot again.
All the time she needed.
With blinding speed she was stabbing the knife directly into Samuel's heart, watching as the blue eyes widened in agonized shock.
“No ...”
Allowing his panic to overcome his training, Samuel dropped the gun and grasped her wrist, attempting to yank the weapon from his heart. Jaelyn, however, was already slicing through his chest, ruthlessly ignoring his hoarse cry.
The crimson blood spilled down the ivory skin of his chest, filling the room with the scent of death.
Distantly Jaelyn was aware of the door being pushed open and the cold rush of power that warned a vampire was entering the room, but she didn't allow her concentration to waver.
Samuel was weakening, but so was she.
Driving him backward, she pinned his flailing body against the wall. Then, with the clinical detachment that had been drilled into her over the past three decades, she used the knife to cut off his head.
It was a slow, messy business, but she never wavered. Not until Samuel's head rolled across the floor, halting at the heavily booted feet of the large vampire standing near the door.
Feeling oddly hollow, Jaelyn allowed her gaze to travel from the lifeless eyes of Samuel up the well-honed body covered in black fatigues to the square face that was all too familiar.
“Kostas,” she breathed, dropping the bloody knife.
The leader's soulless black gaze skimmed over her and Jaelyn prepared for his punishment. It didn't matter that she had been lured from her rooms by Samuel. Or that he'd tried to kill her.
If the head of the Addonexus decided she'd broken the rules, then he'd make certain she lived to regret her mistake.
Instead he pointed toward the silver collar around her neck.
“The release is in the back.”
She lifted her hands to search the smooth metal, painful minutes passing until she at last located the hidden lever. There was a faint click before the heavy silver parted and she was tossing aside the torture device with a grimace.
“Are you permanently injured?”
She returned her wary attention to the elder vampire, already feeling the charred flesh of her neck beginning to heal.
Kostas looked like a Roman general with his large, muscular body, his finely hewed features, and black hair he kept slicked back into a short tail at his nape. But it wasn't his physical strength that made him dangerous. Or even his considerable powers as a vampire.
It was the utter lack of conscience.
He was the perfect psychopath.
“I'll be fine,” she muttered, her gaze dropping to the head that was swiftly turning to ash at his feet. “Samuel is dead.”
“So I see. A pity.”
He didn't sound like it was a pity.
Actually he sounded ... satisfied.
Jaelyn wrapped her arms around her chilled body, desperately longing to strip off the soiled robe and spend the next few hours in a hot bath.
“I don't know what happened to him. He ...” She struggled to keep the horror from her voice. “He attacked me. I had no choice but kill him.”
“Yes.” With the air of a teacher examining the work of a student, Kostas bent to study the disintegrating head.
“A clean cut despite the dullness of your weapon,” he at last concluded, straightening to meet her startled gaze. “Well done.”
“Well done?”
His lips stretched into the semblance of a smile. “Actually, I suppose I should say congratulations.”
“I don't understand.”
“You have passed the last of your tests.” He offered a faint nod. “Tomorrow evening you will walk as an equal among the Addonexus.”
She tensed.
Did he just say what she thought he said?
“This was a test?” she rasped, the empty sense of shock being swiftly replaced with a white-hot fury.
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