Devoured By Darkness (17 page)

“Is she alone?”

“It’s impossible to say.” The mage sent her a warning frown. “The spell I cast on her is fading. We should hurry before I lose all connection to her.” He muttered a curse as Marika stepped toward the fence, her head tilted back as she tested the air. “What are you doing?”

“Do you know what this place is?”

Sergei shrugged. “A vampire’s lair.”

“Much more than that.” A humorless smile curved her lips. “My niece moves in elevated company.”

The mage shifted uneasily, sensing something was wrong but unable to detect the power that choked the air.

“A clan chief?”

“The King of all Vampires.”

“The Anasso?” Stark disbelief was laced through Sergei’s voice. “I thought he was a myth.”

“You are welcome to ring the doorbell and discover the truth for yourself.”

“No, thank you.” There was a tense pause before the mage moved to stand at her side, his expression suspicious. “You are remarkably indifferent to the fact that the Anasso is now aware that you defied demon law to create a Jinn half-breed for the sole purpose of returning the Dark Lord to this world and crowning yourself queen.”

Marika waved aside his words. Why should she care that her plans had been revealed to the Anasso? There was no point in being superior to those who claimed positions of power if no one appreciated her brilliance.

“It was bound to be revealed eventually.”

The pale blue eyes glittered with annoyance. “Not until we had the Jinn and babe in our possession. A task that now will be considerably more difficult if we are being hunted by your brethren.”

“I do not fear the fools,” she said, scorn dripping from her words. “But there is something else.”

“Something worse than the Anasso?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.” The mage reached to grasp the crystal hung about his neck. Marika sneered at the instinctive reaction. His human magic would be worthless against the demon inside the mansion. “What is it?”

“An Oracle.”

Sergei backed away from the fence with a string of Russian curses.

“Then this is the end.” He halted at the edge of the tree line, perhaps stupid enough to believe the shadows could hide him from the danger. “If the Commission knows of the female then they’ll kill her.”

Marika turned, taking a malicious pleasure in her companion’s fear.

“That would have been my assumption and yet you claim Laylah escaped.”

He scowled. “She did, unless they have managed to lay a false trail.”

It was the same thought that had crossed her mind.

Rumor was that Styx wasn’t the Anasso simply because he was the strongest vampire. He was just as infamous for his cunning.

“A trail leading to a trap,” she murmured. “It is something to be considered.”

“Something to be
considered?”
Sergei shook his head in incredulity.
“Nyet.
The only thing to be considered is the fastest means to return to London.”

“We are not leaving without Laylah and the child.”

“You might consider the glorious return of the Dark Lord worthy of a few thousand years of torture in the hands of the Commission, but I do not.”

Marika flowed forward, grabbing him by the hair and bending him backward.

She could forgive his treachery.

But never his cowardice.

“I have not come this far to have your lack of guts ruin this for me.”

His eyes bulged in pain. “Marika.”

She leaned close to whisper directly in his ear. “If you have no use for your spine I can snap it in two.”

“No …” he panted. “Please. You have made your point. Release me.”

Marika pursed her lips.

The desire to break Sergei in half was nearly overwhelming.

She had sated her hunger for blood before leaving London, but it had been too long since she’d indulged her lust for pain.

For a moment she reveled in his pulsing agony, then recalling she needed the cretin to track Laylah, she loosened her grip. He fell heavily to the ground. With a smile, she bent over his sprawled body.

“Don’t test my patience again, Sergei.” The words were a deadly whisper. “You won’t like the consequences.”

“I am, as always, your humble servant,” he choked out, waiting until she stepped back before he cautiously rose to his feet. “What do you desire of me?”

She turned back toward the mansion, dismissing her brief distraction. Instead she coldly calculated their options.

“There’s no means to discover why the Oracle allowed Laylah to escape,” she finally decided. “We have no choice but to follow the trail.”

“Even if it leads us into a trap?”

“I am not so easily caught.” Marika waved a distant hand toward the woods where her tiny army was hidden. “And I do have my new allies.”

Sergei shuddered. He wasn’t nearly so fond of her servants.

“Do not remind me.”

“They have proved quite useful,” she reminded the mage. “We could never have followed Laylah so swiftly without their skill with portals. And they are exquisitely beautiful.” Without warning she was hit by a wave of dizziness, the image of her sister dancing before her eyes. “Damn.”

Sergei stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Kata.” She furiously pressed a hand to her forehead. Why would the bitch not leave her in peace? “She is … troubled.”

“Is she awakening?”

Reluctantly, Marika forced herself to concentrate on her bond with Kata. She could sense a strange fluttering, as if her sister was being disturbed by an outside force, but the fog of unconsciousness was intact.

“No.” She tried to shake off the tug of awareness. “You are certain no one can find her?”

“Even if they could locate her there is no way that they could penetrate the layers of protection I’ve set around the tomb.”

Her icy power swirled through the air. “Pray you are right, mage.”

They arrived at the hidden copse of trees south of Hannibal only a few hours after they left the outskirts of Chicago.

The benefit of Tane’s indifference to the laws of traffic. And occasionally those of physics.

Climbing out of the vehicle, Laylah breathed a sigh of relief. Jeez. Those people who mocked women drivers had never ridden with a vampire in a hurry.

Talk about a freaking death wish.

Steadying her weak knees, she headed toward the narrow path that led into the trees. Over the past hour she’d been plagued by a deepening sense of urgency to get her hands on the child.

As if it was calling out to her.

Nearly reaching the outer fringe of oak trees, Laylah was brought to an abrupt halt when Tane grabbed her upper arm.

“Wood sprites?” he muttered, his tension filling the air with a frigid bite. “You trusted them with a child?”

She didn’t blame him for his skepticism. Sprites were as unpredictable as they were beautiful.

“They owe me.”

He blinked in surprised. “A wish?”

“No, I…” She instinctively cut off her words.

He tugged her around to meet his searching gaze.

“What?”

She blew out a resigned sigh. There was no point in hiding anything now.

Tane knew everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“The Queen was poisoned by a jealous rival,” she confessed. “I was able to save her life.”

Something that might have been respect flared through the honey eyes.

“You’re a healer?”

Gods, was that a blush heating her cheeks?

Next thing she knew she would be batting her lashes and simpering like an idiot.

“I don’t perform miracles, but I can heal most injuries.”

He brushed the back of his hand over that revealing blush. “A rare talent.”

She cleared her throat, trying to sound brisk. “I’ve always assumed it came from my mother’s side of the family since Jinns are a lot happier destroying things than fixing them.”

“Oui,”
Levet chimed in, moving to her side. “Gypsies are coveted for their skills in healing.”

Tane scowled at the gargoyle. “We have yet to determine if the vision Laylah was given in London was real.”

Levet sniffed. “Do you think that I would not recognize a
faux
vision?
Moi?
The great connoisseur of magic? The …” He came to a sudden halt, a dreamy expression settling on his tiny face. “Mmmmm. Sprites.” With a burst of unexpected speed he was rushing into the trees. “Sorry,
ma belle,
I will join you later. Much later.”

Laylah rolled her eyes.

So much for the Justice League.

Not that she needed his help …

As if she’d deliberately jinxed herself, the thought had barely whispered through her mind when a dozen sprites stepped out of the shadows.

Her breath snared in her throat, her gaze skimming over the combination of males and females that were attired in the traditional robes that took camo to a whole new level. Even looking at them straight on, the flowing fabric melded perfectly with their background, giving the queasy illusion that they were floating in and out of focus.

She might have been amused if it weren’t for the deadly expressions on the beautiful faces. Oh, and the crossbows that were currently pointed at her heart.

Her gaze never wavered from the line of sprites as Tane cautiously moved to her side. These weren’t the flighty, unpredictable fey that they readily revealed to the demon world. These creatures stood at confident attention with their long hair, that ranged in hues from pure gold to dark red, tightly braided so they could easily reach the swords strapped to their backs.

Warriors.

And prepared to attack.

“I thought they were friends of yours?” Tane muttered.

“Yeah, me too.” She squared her shoulders, meeting the steady gaze of the nearest sprite. “I have been granted safe passage by Eirinn.”

The male sprite shifted his crossbow toward Tane. “The vampire doesn’t have such privileges.”

Tane’s low growl filled the air, sending lesser demons fleeing in fear and causing even the hardened warriors to shudder.

“You really don’t want to play this game.”

“It’s no game, Charon.”

The high, musical voice was the only warning before a tall, slender female stepped into view. Like her warriors, Eirinn, Queen of the Wood Sprites, was attired in a loose robe, although her dark golden hair was left free to cascade down her back and held back with a delicate crown set with an emerald the size of a quail’s egg.

She halted in a pool of moonlight, her beauty so perfect that Laylah would have thrown herself off the cliff if she was stupid enough to consider the numerous ways she failed in comparison.

With a lift of her hand, Eirinn spoke a few words in a foreign tongue. As one the warriors lowered their crossbows. Not that Laylah was reassured.

One wrong twitch and she was fairly certain she would be pinned to the nearest tree with an arrow through her heart.

Tane seemed to come to the same conclusion, and with his typical arrogance shifted until he was standing directly in front of her.

“Is the Welcoming Committee specifically for me or do you share the love with all vampires?” he mocked.

“These are dangerous times,” the Queen said.

“That they are,” Tane agreed, glaring at Laylah as she firmly stepped to his side.

Did he really think she would cower behind him?

Watching them with a narrowed gaze, Eirinn abruptly chuckled, moving forward to link her arm with Laylah’s.

“Come with me, Laylah. Your vampire is distracting my warriors,” she purred, tugging Laylah past her guards with just enough force to warn she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. A faint smile curved her lips. “Unless you’re willing to share?”

Share?

Not even when hell froze over.

“Forget it.”

“A pity.” Eirinn’s perfect smile widened as Tane firmly pulled Laylah from her grip and he tucked a protective arm around her shoulders. “He is a fine specimen.”

“Did you hear, my sweet?” He leaned to speak directly into Laylah’s ear. “I’m a fine specimen.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away from his possessive hold.

Only because it wasn’t worth the struggle, and not because she wanted the damned Queen of Sprites to know the vampire was off limits.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she sniffed. “Sprites have a notorious appetite for sex.”

She could have kicked herself as he flashed a smug smile.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “Intimately.”

“My point is they would think a drunken cur with the mange a fine specimen.” In the distance the sound of Levet’s laughter filled the air. It was Laylah’s turn to smile. “Or a diminutive gargoyle.”

His lips brushed the curve of her ear. “You, thankfully, have an insatiable appetite for only one male. An appetite I’m more than happy to sate.”

She narrowed her gaze. “And your appetite?”

“Starving for a taste of a Jinn half-breed. The sooner the better.” The force of his desire blasted through her, making them both shudder. His eyes flared with frustrated heat. “Damn.”

They fell silent, both shaken by the brutal need that flared so abruptly between them. It didn’t feel like the natural response of two individuals who were attracted to one another. It felt like …

Destiny.

She shook off the dangerous thought as Eirinn led them between two ancient trees.

Laylah grimaced as they passed through an invisible barrier. It felt like spiders crawling over her skin.

“The glade is my sanctuary and guarded by my personal magic,” the Queen murmured. “We can speak in privacy here.”

Once past the spell of protection, Laylah paused to appreciate the small glade.

It wasn’t the cartoon version of a fey meadow with unicorns and rainbows, but there was a tiny stream that cut through the lush grass and clumps of wild flowers that added splashes of color.

At her side Tane folded his arms over his chest, clearly indifferent to their charming surroundings.

“Who is threatening you?”

“Ah, vampires.” Eirinn slid an appreciative glance over Tane’s body, blithely unaware how close she was to Laylah beating her senseless with her own crown. “Always so deliciously sexy and yet so lacking in manners.”

Tane remained grimly indifferent to the open invitation in the woman’s voice.

“We don’t have the time for proper etiquette.”

“I suppose that’s true.” The Queen tossed Laylah a taunting glance. “And I doubt Laylah would agree to a formal ceremony of greeting. She is astonishingly prudish for a Jinn.”

“She is perfect,” Tane snapped before Laylah could respond.

“So I see.” The Queen chuckled. “And yours?”

“Yes.”

Laylah flashed him a disgruntled frown. She didn’t have a clue what was going on between her and Tane, but she was absolutely certain she didn’t want it discussed with Eirinn the Queen of Tramps. “Do you mind?”

His gaze slid with slow deliberation down her body. “Not at all.”

Eirinn’s eyes sparkled. “If you would prefer privacy…”

Yes, yes, please yes.

“No,” Laylah forced herself to snap.

“Very wise, my dear. Never allow a vampire to believe he has you completely enthralled. They’re so tediously full of themselves.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Laylah muttered.

“Enough.” Tane stepped forward. “Tell me why your warriors are armed and twitchy as hell.”

The Queen’s amusement fled as she reached beneath the neckline of her robe to pull out a crystal that was hung on a golden chain around her neck.

“Because of this.”

Laylah frowned at the oval stone that glowed with a soft, bluish light. “A glowing rock?” “A
Ciomach,”
the sprite said.

“A what?”

“It’s like an early warning system,” Tane clarified. “Convenient.” Laylah watched as the stone pulsed with the strange blue glow. “What does it warn against?” “Ancient enemies.” Well that was nice and vague. “Can you be more specific?” “The Sylvermyst.” She felt Tane jerk in surprise. “Shit,” he muttered.

Laylah’s heart sank. Her spotty education didn’t include much about the Sylvermyst. Nothing beyond the fact that they were related to the fey and were as notorious for their irresistible beauty as they were for their cruelty.

And of course, the most pertinent fact, that they were supposed to be long gone from the world.

Now she sensed she was about to find out more than she ever wanted.

“Tane, what’s going on?” she demanded.

“When we first arrived in London Uriel mentioned that Victor was meeting with the Prince of Fairies in Dublin.” He shook his head in disgust. “I assumed the Prince had been eating too many funny mushrooms.”

“There is nothing amusing about the Sylvermyst,” Eirinn said, dropping her image of frivolous flirtation to reveal the powerful leader beneath.

“No,” Tane readily agreed.

Laylah frowned in confusion. “I thought they were banished?”

Tane grimaced. “A lot of unpleasant nasties are crawling out of the shadows these days.”

The Queen shivered, clutching the stone around her neck. “Yes, the wind whispers of evil.”

“When did your
Ciomach
start with its Christmas tree routine?” Tane asked.

“Early this evening.”

Tane cursed and pulled his large dagger from its sheath.

Laylah instinctively glanced toward the nearby trees.

“Tane?”

“It can’t be a coincidence,” he said.

“What can’t?”

“The Sylvermyst first appearing in England and now here.”

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Like her schizoid aunt and Sergei weren’t bad enough? “You think they followed us?” His eyes glowed with a deadly intent. “Or they were led.” Laylah swallowed a sigh. Had she actually spent years wishing she had a family? “Marika, I assume?”

“A possibility.” He clutched the dagger as if wishing there was someone around he could stick it into. “One of too god damn many. We need to get moving.”

“But it’s almost sunrise. It would be safer to remain here until …”

“No, Laylah,” Eirinn interrupted. “My debt is paid and I won’t risk my people to defend you against the death that stalks you. You will collect the child and leave.”

Laylah didn’t argue. She didn’t want anyone put in danger because of her. But even as she turned to make her way out of the glade, Tane was at her side.

“Too late,” he whispered.

She paused, concentrating on her surroundings.

The magical barrier muted the outside world, but suddenly she was aware of the distant sounds of shouts and an unfamiliar smell of tangy herbs that blended with the fruity scent of fey.

Sylvermyst.

It had to be.

She didn’t hesitate.

Charging toward the barrier, her only thought was to get to the child as swiftly as possible.

Several miles away, Caine cursed and yanked his Jeep to a halt next to the abandoned gas station that was the only building for miles.

Dammit. He should never have left the top off. Of course, he hadn’t expected his companion to leap from a vehicle traveling sixty miles an hour.

It wasn’t the sort of thing most people did.

Clearly he needed to turn off his sane dial.

Throwing the damned thing into park, he vaulted over the door and headed toward the back of the parking lot. He cursed as he stubbed his toe on a rusting crow bar and nearly landed on his face. He was still trying to become accustomed to his newfound strength and speed.

Which was a nice way of saying he was as clumsy as hell.

“Cassie, wait.”

She stood at the edge of the crumbling pavement, staring across the empty fields.

Despite her heavy sweatshirt and jeans, Cassie shivered. “I sense them.”

He sniffed the air, picking up the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Not fey … but close.

“What the hell are they?”

“They are from … distant lands.”

He growled, the wolf inside him snapping at the savage need to toss Cassie over his shoulder and haul her far away from the danger.

It didn’t matter that she’d been a pureblood Were a hell of a lot longer than he had. Or that the danger was too far away to pose an immediate threat.