Fear the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity)

by Alexandra Ivy

  “I’m Harley,” one of the females said, her heart-shaped face as delicately carved as Cassie’s but with large hazel eyes that were thickly lashed. Her golden blond hair was left free to tumble down her shoulders and her petite frame covered by a loose kimono that hinted at her growing baby bump.

  “And I’m Regan.” The other claimed Cassie’s attention. She looked remarkably similar to Harley, except her golden blond hair was longer and pulled into a tight braid and her eyes were more green than hazel. She was casually dressed in a stretchy T-shirt and yoga pants, and there was a sheen of sweat on her delicate face, as if she’d been in the middle of exercising.

  The two were laughing and crying at the same time as they bombarded a dazed Cassie with overlapping questions.

  “How did you get here?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “How long will you stay?”

  “What about a shower? Do you need—”

  “Wait.” Cassie battled her way free of the clinging arms, her focus trained on Salvatore as he attempted to slip away unnoticed. “Where are you taking him?”

  Busted, Salvatore had no choice but to halt and meet her suspicious glare. “I have to get him locked in a room before he wakes up.”

  “Fine.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I want to be with him.”

  “No.”

  Moving to his side, Harley sent her mate a chiding frown. “Salvatore.”

  The king heaved a rasping sigh, his golden gaze remaining trained on Cassie. “I’ll try to use my powers as king to connect with Caine, but since he’s never truly been a part of a pack I don’t know if I can control him.”

  “And if you can’t?” Cassie pressed.

  “My methods will have to become . . .” He broke off with a grimace.

  Cassie tilted her chin. “Tell me.”

  “Messier.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. She wasn’t stupid. Messier meant bloodier. “No. Absolutely not.”

  The golden eyes flared with a drowning power. “Do you want him back or not?”

  “Please, Cassandra,” Harley softly pleaded. “You can trust Salvatore. I swear that Caine is in good hands.”

  Cassie reached out a helpless hand, her heart breaking. “He needs me.”

  Harley wrapped an arm around her shoulders while Regan wrapped another around her waist.

  “And you’ll be there for him once he’s conscious,” Regan assured her.

  “But . . .”

  “What would Caine want you to do, Cassandra?” Salvatore overrode her in stern tones. “Watch him while he is at his weakest or go with your sisters and regain your strength?”

  Her jaw clenched at his devious cunning. They all knew precisely what Caine would want and Salvatore was using that knowledge as a weapon against her. Unfortunately, his Machiavellian tactics worked.

  “Fine,” she grudgingly muttered. “I will give you until dawn. Not a minute longer.”

  The golden eyes narrowed, but before Salvatore could remind her that he was not only her brother-in-law, but her king as well, her sisters were herding her down the marble staircase.

  “Come with us,” Harley muttered.

  The Dark Lord’s prison

  Gaius assumed his prayer that the merciless light and heat would put an end to his misery had been miraculously answered.

  He had, after all, been burned to a crisp. Quite literally.

  Not even a vampire could come back from such utter ruin.

  But like a damned Phoenix rising from the ashes, his body began to regenerate, the slow process nearly as painful as the original destruction.

  Merda.

  Would this never end?

  It seemed not, he decided, rolling onto his back and at last forcing open his newly healed eyes.

  Only to see . . . what?

  Baffled, he studied the sickly yellow sky spread above him. Where were the choking white mists that had surrounded him? The impenetrable fog?

  Had he actually died and resurrected in a hell dimension?

  The vague hope lasted only long enough for a massive power to smash into him, the scent of burning sulfur filling the air.

  “Gaius, rise,” an all-too-familiar voice commanded.

  He didn’t try and fight the compulsion to push himself to his feet. Why bother? If he didn’t do as he was ordered, then he’d be forced to obey.

  In the most painful way possible.

  Still weakened from his intimate brush with death and the effort of regenerating, it took Gaius several tries before he was able to stand upright. Once certain his knees would hold his weight, he took a brief glance around, astonished by the dramatic change to his surroundings.

  With the mists seared away, presumably by the same nuclear energy that had melted him into a puddle of goo, the landscape was revealed in all its bleak glory. Drenched in the same sickly yellow as the sky, the flat ground stretched toward the distant horizon, occasionally dotted with the skeletal remains of dead trees and small pools of noxious water.

  He shuddered. Not long ago he would have sworn that nothing could be worse than the nasty fog.

  Yet another example of “being careful what you wish for,” he wryly accepted.

  Speaking of which . . .

  Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, Gaius at last turned his reluctant gaze toward the source of the pulsing power that seemed to be strengthening with every passing moment.

  He wasn’t sure what he expected. A column of pure, searing light. Or a towering ten-foot monster with massive fangs. Perhaps a creature beyond his comprehension.

  Instead, he discovered that the delicate female body remained, currently covered by a black satin robe, as did the long, raven hair that floated on the faint breeze and the guileless blue eyes that held hints of crimson fire.

  It was only when the Dark Lord took a step forward that he realized there was a translucent outline that flickered around the human form. He frowned, studying the odd halo. The head looked vaguely like a lion, although larger and far more terrifying than the real beast. And the body was a muscular human shape that was neither male nor female.

  Was that the Gemini?

  And if it was, why was it still no more than a shadow?

  The questions were driven from his mind as the Dark Lord lifted a hand and her blistering power wrapped around him.

  He clenched his teeth against the pain. “Mistress.”

  “Come forward.”

  The voice rang through the air like a massive bell, sending his feet moving forward. “I am your servant,” he muttered, shuddering beneath the force of her coercion.

  He was a puppet.

  A weak, spineless puppet.

  “Yes, you are.” To emphasize his defeatist thoughts, the Dark Lord ran a mocking glance down his naked body before reaching out to wrap her fingers around his neck. “Pretty, pretty leech. What shall we do first?”

  “You promised to return my mate.”

  Nails sliced into his flesh as the flickering lion’s head briefly merged with the pretty female face. “You are so eager to join your mate?”

  Gaius shuddered. He had no desire to be around when that hovering specter joined its power with the Dark Lord.

  “Yes.”

  “No.” A petulant expression settled on the deity’s pretty features. She didn’t like that Gaius wasn’t eager to play the devoted worshipper. “Not yet.”

  “What do you want from me?” he managed to choke out.

  There was a long pause, as if his captor was inwardly weighing the pleasure of ripping out his throat against her mysterious need of him.

  At last he was shoved away and the Dark Lord smoothed a hand down her robe, turning it to a pale shade of peach. The color emphasized the absurd innocence of her youthful appearance even as the strange shadow loomed behind her in a silent threat.

  “For now, you will offer me your military expertise.”

  Gaius blinked. His military expertise? Was this yet another tr
ick?

  “You intend to lead an army into battle?” he demanded.

  The female smiled with cruel anticipation. “No, but I do intend to release my hordes on the world.”

  Gaius stilled, his mind racing. It wasn’t that he gave a damn what happened once the Dark Lord unleashed her minions. Hadn’t he turned his back on the world that had allowed the brutal death of his beloved mate? No, of course he didn’t care. But after being deceived and manipulated by this evil bitch, he wasn’t opposed to witnessing her downfall.

  Or even helping it along.

  “You don’t need a general to release hordes,” he pointed out in cautious tones.

  She shrugged. “I want to be certain they are released where they can cause the most harm. The sooner they deal with my enemies, the sooner I can make my return.”

  “Why wait?” Gaius lifted his brows. “Surely you want the satisfaction of personally destroying those who stood in your path?”

  “It would certainly be pleasurable to witness the slaughter,” the Dark Lord admitted, “but I’m not foolish enough to take the risk.” The blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And as my devoted worshipper, I’m disappointed you would not be more concerned for my safety.”

  “Safety?” Gaius pretended confusion. “Aren’t you omnipotent now that you’ve become the Gemini?”

  Something that might have been frustration rippled over the delicate features. “My powers are still . . . fluid.”

  Gaius’s gaze shifted to the flickering outline of the beast. “I don’t understand. Didn’t the transformation work?”

  Crimson fire consumed the blue eyes as the Dark Lord’s power wrapped around Gaius with a punishing grip.

  “Focus your energy on finding the quickest path to victory, Gaius, unless you desire to find out firsthand the extent of my transformation.”

  Styx’s lair in Chicago

  Cassie had a fuzzy impression of being led into an enormous dining room with wood-paneled walls and then being seated at a table long enough to accommodate an entire clan of ogres. She ate what was put in front of her and answered the endless stream of questions without being conscious of the words leaving her lips.

  Distantly, she was aware when Regan was abruptly called from the room, her cell phone pressed to her ear and servants scurrying around her as she barked out a series of orders. And then again when she returned to the room to whisper in Harley’s ear. There was even a part of her mind that understood something had happened, no doubt something to do with the Dark Lord, but she could concentrate on nothing but the thought of Caine and the relentlessly slow passing of minutes.

  How long had Salvatore been with him?

  She glanced toward the clock on the ornately carved sideboard. Two hours? Three? Surely long enough for the king to have discovered whether or not his powers were enough to return Caine to his humanity?

  At last reaching the end of her patience, Cassie was at the point of demanding that her sisters take her to Caine when the scent of approaching Were had her rising to her feet and turning toward the door.

  Her heart sank at the sight of Salvatore’s weary expression as he beckoned for his mate to join him.

  “Excuse me,” Harley murmured, pausing to give Cassie a sympathetic hug before hurrying across the room.

  Cassie took a step forward. “What’s happened?”

  “We’ll speak later, Cassandra,” Salvatore promised, wrapping his arm around Harley’s shoulders and tugging her into the hallway.

  “Wait.”

  She was heading toward the door when Regan abruptly stepped in her path, grasping her shoulders with a grip that warned she wasn’t going to let Cassie pass. Not without a fight.

  “Cassandra, I’m sure he’ll come speak with you when he’s ready.”

  Cassie’s brows snapped together. Logically, she didn’t doubt that her sister was simply attempting to help. The two female Weres had fussed and fluttered about her with an obvious devotion.

  But at the moment Cassie was in no mood to be logical. Nothing was going to keep her from finding Caine. Not even the love of a sister.

  Meeting Regan’s wary gaze, Cassie dismissed her instinctive urge to simply thrust her sister out of her way. Even if she could match her sister’s strength, something that wasn’t at all certain, she wouldn’t get out of the room before Regan could have half a dozen servants running to help her.

  No. If she wanted to be with Caine, she would have to get rid of her family first.

  Which meant managing to tell a convincing lie.

  She used her heavy sigh to her advantage, allowing her shoulders to wilt and her head to lower, as if in resignation. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

  “Cassandra, it really is for the best—” Regan’s reassuring words were abruptly interrupted by the buzz of her cell phone. Releasing her grip on Cassie, she pulled the phone from her pocket to read the name flashing across the screen. “Shoot.”

  “What is it?”

  “Jagr, just returned,” Regan said, speaking of her mate. “I need to update him.”

  Ah. Saved by the bell. Or rather the buzzer. Cassie, however, was careful to keep her expression resigned. “Go, Regan. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you certain?” Her sister bit her bottom lip in a gesture that was endearingly similar to Cassie’s own habit. “I hate to leave you on your own.”

  Cassie refused to acknowledge the stab of guilt as she managed a stiff smile. “Don’t worry. I’m dead on my feet,” she assured Regan. “I think I’ll try to get a little sleep.”

  The phone buzzed again and Regan gave a grudging nod. “There are plenty of empty bedrooms upstairs. Take one that you want.” She headed slowly toward the door, clearly torn between her duty to her mate and her newly discovered sister. “You’ll come find me if you need me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Watching her sister disappear through the door, Cassie forced herself to count to one hundred. Only when she was certain Regan wasn’t going to pop back into the room did she make her way to the marble hallway and slip silently through the shadows.

  She didn’t like the feeling she was sneaking behind her sisters’ backs, but what choice had they given her? All right, maybe they thought they were protecting her, but they didn’t understand. She had to be with Caine. It was a ruthless, driving force that was making her stomach clench and a cold sweat break out on her skin.

  He needed her.

  She knew it to the very depths of her soul.

  Tracing Salvatore’s scent, she followed it to a narrow staircase that led down to the basement level. Her foot was on the top step when she heard the sound of Salvatore’s voice coming from the ceiling.

  What the heck?

  She glanced up, at last spotting the vent hidden in the ceiling.

  Obviously, the king and Harley were in a room above her, unaware that their conversation could be overheard.

  “So there’s no hope?” Harley was softly demanding.

  “I’m afraid not,” Salvatore said, unaware his bleak words were slicing through Cassie with a savage pain. “He’s too far gone.”

  Harley made a sound of distress. “What if we call for a witch? If the spell could be removed, then maybe you could reach him.”

  She heard Salvatore heave a harsh sigh. “There’s nothing left of the spell.”

  Cassie frowned as Harley asked the question that was on her own lips.

  “How’s that possible?”

  “Cassandra said that the cur who cast the spell is dead. I would guess the spell died with him.”

  “Salvatore, we have to do something,” Harley pleaded.

  “He needs to be put out of his misery.”

  Cassie slapped a hand over her mouth to hold back her shattered cry of denial at Salvatore’s ruthless confession. What did it matter what the king wanted? There wasn’t a chance in hell that she was going to let anyone hurt Caine.

  Not now. Not ever.

  “No,” Harley said, her
voice shaky.

  “I don’t intend to make a decision tonight,” Salvatore assured his mate, although Cassie didn’t miss the grim edge in his voice. He would do what he thought best for his people. Even if it meant destroying a feral Were. “There are too many other pressing concerns.”

  “True,” Harley grudgingly conceded. “Styx and Jagr have returned.”

  “I must speak with them.”

  “What should I tell Cassandra?”

  “Nothing tonight,” Salvatore said in weary tones. “Let her have a few hours of rest. We’ll break the news in the morning.”

  Harley sniffed, as if she were trying to hold back tears. “This is going to destroy her.”

  “Not if she has us to give her the support she needs,” Salvatore comforted his distraught mate. “Are you coming with me?”

  “Yes, I need to warn Darcy what’s happened.”

  Chapter 20

  It took Cassie several deep breaths before she could force her shaky legs to continue down the stairs.

  She had no intention of accepting defeat, no matter what the king might say, but she couldn’t deny a piercing sense of disappointment. She’d desperately hoped that Salvatore could force his way through Caine’s feral insanity. To reach the man, or even the wolf, beneath the madness.

  Now she had no one to depend on except herself.

  Not a particularly reassuring thought.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she was forced to a halt, not surprised by the confusing maze of cement tunnels that sprawled beneath the vast estate. The lair belonged to the King of Vampires. The only surprising thing would be if there weren’t a hundred passageways for Styx’s sun-challenged clan to travel around Chicago.

  A tiny chill inched down her spine. Gods, but she hated being below ground.

  Even with the high ceilings that were lined with fluorescent lights and the well-ventilated air, the tunnels were enough to make her have flashbacks to those long, dark years she’d been trapped in the demon lord’s lair.