Chiron released the knob and sent her an apologetic glance. “Looks like it’s going to have to be the hard way.”
“Hard way? What’s that mean?” she demanded. He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted his leg and with one fluid motion, kicked the center of the door. Lilah threw up her hands to protect herself from the wood splinters that blasted around her. “Chiron.”
“Sorry.”
Cautiously, she lowered her arms, studying the jagged opening that used to be a door. Beyond it was nothing but darkness, along with a sense of a wide, empty space. This was no mere closet.
“My life was so peaceful before you showed up.”
Chiron flashed a charming grin. “You mean boring?”
Lilah had heard about knees melting, but hers had never done it. Not until now. That smile…That glorious smile. It could make any woman a little wobbly. With a stern effort, she managed to stay upright.
“Maybe.”
His lips parted even farther, deliberately revealing a hint of fang. Her pulse went haywire; then he ruined it all by opening his mouth.
“Stay here. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
Lilah planted her fists on her hips. “Excuse me?”
He glanced around, as if surprised by the edge of annoyance in her voice. “We don’t know what Inga might be hiding.”
She wasn’t impressed with his logic. “This is my hotel. And Inga is my employee.”
With staggering speed, he was standing in front of her, his hands lightly gripping her upper arms. “And I need to protect you.”
She tilted back her head, fighting against the urge to be blinded by his male beauty. “Because I’m a female?”
“Because I’m a vampire and I assume no one is stronger or faster or more lethal than I am.”
His simple honesty stole her surge of resentment. This wasn’t about him being a male. It was about him being a vampire.
“Arrogant,” she muttered.
“Without a doubt.” He reached out to frame her face in his hands, his cool skin sending jolts of heat through her. How did he do that? “Please let me make sure there’s no hidden danger.”
She scowled. Her pride told her to refuse. He was the sort of domineering male who would take a mile if she gave an inch. Then again, she wasn’t stupid. They didn’t know what was lurking inside. And she didn’t have the sort of powers to battle against monsters.
“Fine. But we’re going to have a conversation about your assumption I can be treated like some helpless victim,” she warned.
“Can’t wait.” He bent his head to press their lips together.
Another jolt of heat blasted through her. Before she could reach up to yank him closer, he was pulling away. She sighed, watching as he disappeared through the shattered door and was swallowed by the darkness.
She wasn’t afraid for Chiron. There were few things in the world that could actually harm a vampire. Besides, what lethal creature could possibly be hiding in a closet?
But she was afraid of what he might find.
The temperature in the room abruptly dropped. Lilah rubbed her arms. She recognized that chill.
She took a step forward. “Chiron?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” he called out, reaching up to brush over the fairy lights so a bright glow spilled out of the opening.
Lilah took another step forward. “What did you find?”
Chiron appeared, using his foot to sweep aside the broken pieces of wood before he gestured for her to join him. “I think you need to see this for yourself.”
“Okay.”
It was impossible to read any emotion in his voice, but Lilah didn’t hesitate to move forward. Chiron wouldn’t urge her inside unless it was absolutely safe.
She stepped through the opening, instantly shocked by the sheer size of the room. She’d already suspected it was much bigger than a closet, but this was three times as large as the other two spaces combined. She turned in a circle, taking in the rough wooden floors and bare walls. The space was devoid of furniture, but it wasn’t empty. There were stacks of framed canvases leaning against the walls, and shelves that held Inga’s various painting supplies.
An artist’s studio.
Lilah absently moved toward the nearest pile of canvases. She really shouldn’t be surprised Inga would have converted her rooms to create a space to indulge her love for painting. The older woman never discussed her passion for art, but it was evident in the beauty she created throughout the hotel.
She waited for her unease to fade. There was nothing sinister in here. Was there? But Chiron was staring at her with a strange expression. As if there was something in the room she wasn’t seeing.
Not the most pleasant sensation.
Unsure what she was supposed to do, Lilah reached out to grab the top canvas. Her brows arched as she realized it was a portrait of her. In the painting, her curly hair was pulled on top of her head and she was wearing a long green gown with a white ruff collar. It looked like a costume worn by humans attending a renaissance fair.
Strange.
She reached for another canvas. This was another one of her. Only she was wearing a bright yellow gown over wide hoops and a straw hat. Like the woman from that movie Gone With the Wind. Lilah had watched the movie a hundred times, always wishing she could be Scarlett O’Hara but fearing she was more like poor Melanie.
Lilah shook off the ridiculous thought as she shuffled through the canvases.
“They’re all portraits of me,” she said.
“Exquisite, but they raise a number of questions,” Chiron said, moving to stand directly beside her.
“What questions?”
He reached for the painting that had her in the elegant green gown. “How could she have painted your portrait four hundred years before you were born?”
Lilah scowled. “Why would you assume it was painted four hundred years ago?” she demanded, pointing toward the fireplace in the portrait. It was clearly the one in the lobby downstairs. And on the mantel were the same vases and delicate jade figurines. “Inga could easily have created it last week.”
“Do you have that gown hanging in your closet?” he demanded.
“Of course not, but clearly, Inga wanted some variety in the paintings and used her imagination.”
He tossed the picture back on the pile. “Why not just paint you at different ages?”
Her mouth felt oddly dry. Why? It wasn’t fear. Not exactly. But Chiron’s question struck a nerve.
Why would Inga have so many portraits of her? And why put her in costumes she’d never owned? It would make more sense to have a series of paintings that followed her growing from a baby to a grown woman.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I never realized she had these.”
Without warning, Chiron grasped her arms and turned her to meet his dark gaze. “Lilah.”
“What?”
“I can feel the age in these.” He nodded toward the stack of canvases. “They weren’t painted a week ago. They’re old. Really old.”
She wanted to argue. It simply wasn’t possible. But she assumed he could truly tell the age of the portraits. Which meant…
“Wait.” A desperate explanation formed in her foggy brain. “Then they must be of my mother. Inga has always claimed I look just like her.”
“You would have to be an exact duplicate of her,” he pointed out in gentle tones. “And didn’t she say she didn’t arrive at the hotel until after you had been born?”
“Then maybe Inga didn’t paint them.”
“Lilah.”
She swallowed a sigh. There was no doubt the portraits had been done by Inga. She was just grasping at straws.
Warily, she met Chiron’s steady gaze. Was that suspicion she could detect deep in his dark eyes? The thought made her heart clench with pain. “Do you think I’ve been lying to you?”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “No. Not intentionally.”
A sharp laugh was wrenched
from her lips. “That’s not very reassuring.”
He stepped closer, wrapping her in his icy power. “You told me you don’t remember much about your childhood.”
“So?”
“Tell me what you do recall.”
She tilted back her head. She didn’t bother to try to force the memories. It was a wasted effort. “I can’t.”
“You don’t know anything about your childhood?”
“Everything in the past is fuzzy.” She shrugged. “I think I tried to block out the deaths of my parents. Plus, memory loss is a side effect of the cleansing spell Inga used after the plague.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did Inga come up with that excuse?”
“Yes.”
His hands lifted to lightly brush his fingers over her furrowed brow.
“Will you let me try to discover the truth?” he asked.
“How?”
“I can look into your mind,” he reminded her. “If there are any memories, I should be able to retrieve them for you.”
She shivered, but not from the chill Chiron created in the air. No, it was the mere thought of digging through the mysterious layers in her brain.
What if she was blocking something horrible that happened in her past? Or worse, what if the memories had been truly destroyed so she would never, ever be able to recall her childhood? “What if you can’t?”
His fingers threaded through her curls, his expression somber. “There’s only one way to find out.”
She grimaced. “I’m afraid.”
“Do you trust me?”
Did she? The question came without hesitation. Completely and utterly. It didn’t matter that she barely knew him. Or that he’d hidden his reason for coming to her hotel.
This male was her mate. And her faith in him was unshakable.
“Yes.” She lifted her hands to place them against his chest. “What do I have to do?”
“Just relax.”
“Relax?” she demanded in disbelief. “I feel like my life is being turned upside down and you want me to relax?”
“Shh.” He allowed his fingers to stroke over her cheeks, bending his head until they were nose to nose. “Look into my eyes.”
She released a choked laugh. “Isn’t that a little clichéd?”
“You already know I have a fondness for cheesy lines.”
His teasing managed to ease the tight bands of tension around her chest. At least enough so she could suck in a breath.
“Yes.”
His fingers continued to stroke over her face, his eyes unfocused as the temperature in the room dropped. That was the only indication he was using his powers.
She didn’t know what she’d expected. Lightning bolts through her head. Or the feel of his mind poking into hers. Or even a few sparks and tingles.
Instead, there was nothing.
Minutes ticked past, then more minutes. On the point of accepting he wasn’t going to be able to penetrate the fog, Lilah heard him mutter a low curse.
“Chiron?”
“There’s something there,” he muttered.
“What?”
“A barrier.” His fingers pressed against her temple. Not hard, but insistent. Did his touch help him connect to her thoughts? “It’s trying to keep me out.”
“I’m not doing it.”
“I know,” he assured her. “It’s the same thing I sensed before.”
Lilah tried to clear her mind. Could the barrier be from the cleansing spell? Or had it been placed there by someone else?
Maybe…
Her spinning thoughts were interrupted by the strange pop that echoed through her skull. It was like the snap of a rubber band. Or a crack in the barrier Chiron was attempting to break through.
The breath was yanked from her lungs as her knees went weak. A darkness was swirling through her mind, dragging her downward.
No. Not downward.
Backward.
“Lilah. Lilah.”
Distantly, she could hear the sound of Chiron’s frantic voice, feel his arms wrapping around her. But while her body remained in Inga’s hidden studio, her mind was being sucked into the past…
Chapter 16
Lilah walked through the elegant home. In a hidden part of her mind, she understood this was a memory, but it all felt vividly real.
She battled back the urge to shake herself out of her strange, dreamlike state. How long had she yearned to know about her past? Now she had the opportunity to relive what had happened. She’d worry about the how and why later.
Focusing on her surroundings, Lilah took in the wooden floor and the whitewashed stucco walls. Overhead were heavy open beams, while the windows were small with diamond-shaped grills.
She passed by a flickering candelabra set near a framed mirror on the wall. Her gaze cast a quick glance to the side before skittering away.
She should have been shocked by her reflection. This was supposed to be the past. But instead of a younger version of herself, she’d glimpsed a woman who looked to be in her mid-sixties, with thick curls faded to a dull gray and her face heavily lined. She was wearing a shabby dress that brushed the floor and a red woolen apron wrapped around her waist. It looked like something a gypsy would wear centuries ago.
It wasn’t shock she felt at the image, however. Instead, it was a weary acceptance that included her slight limp from an old injury to her hip.
In this past, she was a human witch who had spent most of her life hiding from ignorant peasants who were forever blaming her coven for whatever disaster happened to befall the village. Plagues. Miscarriages. Too much rain. Too little rain.
Ignorant fools.
Still, they’d managed to avoid being burned at the stake. The villagers might fear them, but they were also quick to seek out their spells and potions when they were in need of assistance.
At least until the castle built high on the hill had been besieged and taken over by a rival family. Lord Batton had brought with him a slew of aristocrats, along with a large number of soldiers. As well as a blatant hatred for witches.
Lilah had scrambled to find a way to safely lead her coven away from the area. A difficult task. Relocating thirteen women along with their livestock took money.
Money she didn’t have.
Then, this morning, disaster had struck. Which was the only reason she’d agreed to meet with Sir Travail when he’d sent a note promising assistance. He was one of the noblemen who’d moved into the finest home in the village, which meant he was loyal to Lord Batton. But what choice did she have but to listen to his offer?
Limping forward, she entered a distinctly masculine room. The furniture was heavy wooden chairs with a few tables devoid of knickknacks. The walls were paneled, and there was a brick fireplace where cheery flames danced.
The warmth of the room was a welcome relief to her aching hip. At least until her gaze landed on the male standing in the center of the room.
Her muscles tensed. Sir Travail was exquisitely handsome, with his lean, perfectly chiseled features and deep, startling blue eyes. His brown hair was cut short and his goatee was neatly trimmed. This evening, he was wearing a green velvet doublet with a pair of thick hose and pointed shoes. He’d thankfully forgone the codpiece that was all the rage among men.
At her entrance, he strolled forward to grasp her hand, performing an elegant bow.
“Ah. Lilah. I am so pleased you accepted my invitation.”
Lilah pulled her fingers free with a sharp tug. Unlike most females in the area, she hadn’t allowed Travail’s undoubted beauty to blind her. There was something about him that set off her internal alarms.
“I did not have much choice,” she said in stiff tones. “Lord Batton’s soldiers arrived this morning and captured most of my coven. They are awaiting death in the castle.”
He lifted a hand to press it to the center of his chest. “So I heard.” He clicked his tongue. “Truly a shame.”
Lilah wasn’t fooled for a moment. Thi
s man was somehow involved with the capture of her coven. In fact, after she’d received his message, she suspected he’d been the driving force behind the sudden arrests.
He wanted something from her.
“Your note promised you had a way for us to escape from this land.”
His brows arched at her sharp tone, a hint of humor in his eyes. He obviously enjoyed the knowledge she was uneasy in his presence. “Yes.” He gave a small shrug. “There is a price, of course.”
She squared her shoulders, allowing her innate magic to flow through her blood. She would not be intimidated. Not by this man or any other. “I assumed there would be. I will warn you, we have little money to offer.”
He gave a wave of his hand. “I have no need for gold or riches.”
That was no surprise. The house alone was worth a fortune.
“Then it is magic you desire,” she said.
“Yes.”
“A love spell?”
“No.”
Ah. She squashed her sudden urge to smile. No doubt she should have guessed why he had sought her out. And why he’d been so secretive when he’d asked her to join him tonight.
“I do have a spell that is guaranteed to improve your stamina,” she assured him. “If you will wait here, I can fetch it and return—”
“Do I appear to need extra stamina?” he interrupted, his voice mocking.
Lilah met his unwavering gaze, refusing to be embarrassed. “No, but it is the reason most gentlemen seek me out.”
“Not me.” With the elegance of a trained swordsman, he moved toward her. The scent of salt suddenly filled the air. Strange. Was it coming from Sir Travail? “I have a different need.”
Lilah shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on his words. “What is it?”
He paused, studying her with an unnerving intensity. It felt as if he was trying to peer into her mind. Or her soul.
“I have captured a vampire,” he abruptly announced.
Her eyes widened, her brain struggling to accept what he’d just said.
“Are…” She was forced to halt and clear her throat. “Are you jesting?”
His lips pinched together. “I do not jest about vampires.”
Neither did Lilah. She’d done her best to avoid the demons who roamed the world. What little magic she possessed couldn’t protect her from such evil.
Darkness Returns Page 17