“Great.” Char’s eyes swirled with thunderclouds. “And you want me to be trapped in time with her?”
Torque frowned. He’d assumed Char could cast the spell and walk away.
“All I know of your powers is that you can halt time,” he said.
Char shook his head, his hand dropping. “I don’t actually halt it,” he said. “My powers can slow it for a limited time.”
“And you have to be wrapped in the magic?”
“The powers alter my place in time. With an effort I can spread it to include whoever is near me. Which means that the closer they are, the longer I can maintain the magic.”
Torque grimaced with guilt. “Dammit. I shouldn’t have suggested that you help.” He reached out to put his hand on Char’s shoulders. The older male could be a pain in the ass, but he was like a brother to him. “I didn’t know it would put you in danger.”
“As long as she’s unconscious I should be fine,” Char muttered.
Was he trying to convince Torque or himself?
Torque parted his lips to demand that Char return to Baine’s lair when there was a roar of scalding power and Synge stepped into the chamber.
Too late.
The older dragon scowled at the two of them. “Finally,” he snapped. “Follow me.”
Pivoting on his heel, Synge was marching back into his private quarters, confident the two males would follow.
Char and Torque were swiftly trailing behind him.
Only an idiot ignored an order from a dragon.
A dead idiot.
“It’s nice to know not everyone has changed,” Char muttered in a low voice.
Torque abruptly recalled Synge’s expression when he’d discovered his mate and daughter were alive. The brutish predator had revealed a shocking vulnerability. Not that he was about to share that particular revelation. Not when the old dragon might overhear him.
He preferred not to have his flesh seared off his bones, thank you very much.
“Actually, you might be surprised,” he instead breathed.
Char sent him a curious glance before they were coming to an abrupt halt as Synge stopped in the middle of a doorway.
Glancing over his shoulder, the dragon sent Char a warning glare.
“We are about to enter the room of my daughter,” he growled. “She is precious beyond all measure and if something were to happen to her…”
Char held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I promise I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe.”
The male gave a grudging nod before he turned to lead them into a room shaped like an octagon, with a domed ceiling that was covered with tiles made from pure gold. On the windows were lattice coverings and at one end of the marble floor a small fountain shimmered in the light from the numerous candelabras.
In the far corner was a wide bed where a slender female was lying on a white satin cover. Her long black hair had been brushed until it glowed with an ebony luster and her skin had the sheen of a pearl in the candlelight.
Moving to stand at the edge of the mattress Char glanced down, an odd, thunderstruck expression on his face.
“Tell me what you need,” Synge commanded, his hands on his hips.
“Need?” Char muttered, his gaze never leaving Blayze’s face that was softened with peace as she slept.
The dragon scowled at him and Torque covertly kicked his friend in the shin.
“Char,” he muttered.
“Have you taken a blow to the head, or are you just slow?” Synge snapped, waiting for Char to send him a wary glance. “What do you need?”
“Nothing,” Char muttered, still looking as if he’d seen a ghost. Could he sense Blayze’s curse? Being trapped with the evil sensation would be unnerving for anyone. “I mean…” Char stopped and cleared his voice. “I can spread my powers to include this room, but the door needs to remain locked to ensure the magic isn’t disturbed.”
Synge clenched his hands. “How long can you keep the spell in place?”
“A day,” Char said. “Maybe two.”
“Do it,” Synge commanded before he was heading toward an opening on the opposite side of the room.
Stepping forward, Torque studied his friend’s tense profile with a frown.
There was definitely something off. But what?
“Are you okay?” he at last demanded.
“Yeah.” The male stepped closer to the bed, his hand reaching out as if he was battling an urge to touch the beautiful dragon female. “You need to go.”
Torque hesitated. “Char—”
“I got this,” Char snapped.
“Are you sure?” Torque pressed, only to grimace in defeat when Char turned his head to glare at him with eyes as dark as thunderclouds.
“Go.”
“Okay, okay. Do your thing,” Torque muttered, backing toward the doorway. “Call me if you need me.”
Char ignored him, his attention already centered back on Blayze.
Leaving the room with a vague sense of concern, Torque entered the public chamber. Maybe he should contact Baine. The dragon considered Char more a friend than a servant. He would want to know if the male might be in danger.
Torque’s lips twitched. It would also give Baine the opportunity to annoy his father. Pissing off Synge was something that gave the younger dragon great joy.
On the point of leaving the lair, Torque was halted by the sound of his name being called.
“Torque.”
He stiffened. Shit. He’d been so close to escape.
For a crazed moment his muscles clenched as he actually considered bolting. He wanted to be with Rya. Now.
Not to mention the fact he needed to contact Baine.
Thankfully, he clung to enough sanity to squash the suicidal urge.
Forcing himself to turn, he offered Synge a low bow.
“My lord,” he murmured.
The dragon moved from the shadowed alcove where he’d obviously been waiting for Torque. His nose flared as he folded his arms over his massive chest. “You smell like Rya.”
Torque met the accusing gaze. If he had to fight for his right to be with Rya…then so be it.
“She’s my betrothed,” he said.
“You intend to complete the mating?” Synge demanded.
“As soon as her mother returns,” Torque said, waiting for the male to protest his right to claim Rya. When the dragon gave a slow nod, Torque decided to press his luck. “Have your servants been able to create an opening?”
“No, but they assure me it’s only a matter of time,” Synge said, his brow furrowed with concern. After all, he was depending on Kai’s rescue to protect his beloved daughter from her curse. “They’ve gathered outside the lair. They were afraid my magic was interfering in their efforts.”
Torque swallowed a frustrated curse. He’d hoped they were actually making progress.
“Rya won’t wait long,” he muttered.
Synge released a sharp laugh. “You know my headstrong daughter well.”
“Well enough to suspect she’s going to take matters in her own hands if she believes we aren’t doing enough to rescue her mother,” he said.
Synge sent him a warning frown. “Then you’d better convince her.”
Torque resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rya felt like she was going to jump out of her skin.
As time passed, she became increasingly worried about her mother. About Torque. About Finn, who, she’d just discovered, had yet to return to his tribe.
In an effort to ease her tension she’d taken yet another bath and pulled on a pair of jeans and a bright yellow sweater. She didn’t know what she intended to do, but it didn’t include twiddling her thumbs while she waited for something to happen.
She’d just finished braiding her hair when she caught the unmistakable scent of granite floating on the faint breeze.
Oh, thank the goddess.
Hurrying down the co
rridor that led to the outer courtyard, she found her guards holding a tiny gargoyle with bright, lacy wings.
“Release me, you buffoon,” Levet was commanding, squirming as he tried to break free of the guard’s ruthless grip. Then, catching sight of Rya as she stepped into the garden that was cloaked in darkness, his tiny face brightened with relief. “Ah, ma belle. At last. These”—his tail twitched with agitation—“imbéciles have forbidden me to enter.”
Rya scowled. Her servants were there to protect her. They had, after all, been trained by her father’s own warriors.
But she wasn’t a prisoner. If someone arrived to visit her, the guards should have contacted her right away.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
The two guards exchanged uneasy glances before they were meeting her impatient glare.
“We were told not to let anyone pass,” the guard holding Levet informed her.
“Told by whom?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.
“Your mate.”
She pointed toward the gargoyle. “Release him immediately.”
“But…”
The servant’s words trailed away as Rya planted her hands on her hips and allowed her eyes to glow with the power of her dragon. “Yes?”
“Your consort said that no one was allowed inside,” the poor male stammered, his face pale.
Rya ground her teeth. Clearly she was going to have to remind her betrothed that they weren’t yet mated. And that even when they did formalize their relationship, becoming her consort didn’t equal becoming her boss.
“Is this my lair or Torque’s?” she snapped.
The guard licked his lips. “Yours.”
“Then release my guest.”
The male grudgingly loosened his hold, allowing Levet to drop to the ground.
“Bully,” Levet sniffed, waddling toward Rya with his snout in the air.
“Return to your duties,” Rya ordered the befuddled guards before she reached down to pat Levet between his stunted horns. “Come with me.”
Sending the guards a loud raspberry, Levet followed her down the corridor and into her private rooms.
His gray eyes widened as he made a slow circle of the round room that had ivory and gold tiles on the floor and delicate tapestries hung on the walls.
“A most charming lair,” he murmured, carefully touching a rare jade statue that had been carved in the shape of a dragon in full flight.
“Thank you.” Moving to stand in the center of the room, Rya studied her companion with a barely leashed impatience. “Have you found a way to reach my mother?”
“Ah.” The gargoyle turned to face her, his head tilted to the side. “I see you intend to get straight to the pointy end.”
Rya wrinkled her nose. “Forgive me. I’m just anxious to get her out of that place.”
Levet waved aside her apology. “Perfectly understandable that you are in no mood for chitty chit, ma belle.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. The creature could make her chuckle no matter what was going on.
“Can you help?” she asked.
“Oui,” he said. “I believe I have found someone who can help us create a portal.”
Rya released a shaky sigh. “Who is it?”
“Laylah,” Levet said. “She is a half-Jinn.”
Rya’s eyes widened in shock. Jinn were incredibly powerful, but they were also cunning, evil demons who created chaos wherever they went.
Sort of like dragons. Without the whole fire-breathing thing.
“A Jinn?” she said, unable to disguise her disappointment.
How could she possibly trust her mother’s rescue to a creature who might decide it was more fun to slaughter them all?
Clearly sensing her unease, Levet moved forward, reaching out to lightly pat her leg.
“Do not fear. Laylah is not like other Jinn. She is quite civilized,” he promised. “And despite her incomprehensible decision to mate with a vampire, you can trust her.”
Rya gave a slow nod. She didn’t trust any Jinn, but she did trust this gargoyle.
He wouldn’t have suggested Laylah help them if she was dangerous.
“Is she going to meet us here?” she asked, ignoring her instinctive aversion to the treacherous demons.
“Non.” Levet wrinkled his snout, as if he’d just caught a bad smell. “Her mate refuses to allow her to travel to the harem of a dragon,” he told her. “Tane is a savage, and like most vampires is annoyingly unreasonable, I fear.”
“Oh.” Rya felt a stab of disappointment although she couldn’t really blame the vampire.
No demon would be happy to have their female mate anywhere near a dragon harem.
Not only because they were known to be heavily guarded, but because a full-blooded dragon could alter his or her appearance to please any lover.
A potent talent.
Levet gave her leg another pat. “He has, however, agreed to allow you to meet with her at my home,” he assured her.
“Now?”
“Oui.”
A fierce urgency to run out the door beat through her. She was acutely aware of the passage of time since her mother had been trapped between dimensions. And that each tick of the clock put her in more danger.
But even as she pivoted toward the door, she abruptly remembered that she couldn’t just leave.
“Give me a second to write a note for Torque and then we’ll go,” she muttered, crossing toward a low table.
She’d taken less than a dozen steps when a tingle of heat raced over her skin.
Uh oh.
Coming to a halt, she slowly turned to discover Torque standing in the doorway, his hands planted on his hips.
“Go where?”
She cleared her throat. Crap. She hadn’t deliberately tried to leave before he returned to her lair, but she hadn’t been opposed to avoiding the looming argument.
“Torque.” She managed a stiff smile.
The glorious sapphire eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“You said something about leaving,” he growled.
Rya squared her shoulders. She wasn’t going to feel guilty for doing whatever necessary to rescue her mother.
“Levet has found someone who can open a portal into Ravel’s lair.”
His gaze took in her defiant expression before moving toward the gargoyle. “Who?”
Levet gave a flick of his wings. “A friend. She will meet us at my house.”
“We have to hurry,” Rya said, walking forward.
Predictably, Torque moved to stand directly in front of her.
The only surprise would have been if he hadn’t tried to block her path.
“No,” he growled.
Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits as flames erupted to swirl around her feet. “Excuse me?”
There was a sudden scrape of claws against the tiled floor as Levet scurried toward the door.
“Perhaps I should wait outside,” he muttered.
Smart gargoyle.
Torque lowered his head until they were nose to nose.
“You’re not going to risk your life with some unknown demon who might or might not have the ability to reach your mother,” he growled.
She met his glare without flinching. This sort of behavior was going to have to be nipped in the bud.
Or something a bit more tender on the male anatomy was going to get nipped.
“Do you assume becoming my consort gives you the right to tell me what I can or can’t do?”
His jaw clenched, but he wasn’t stupid.
“It gives me the right to protect you,” he cautiously corrected.
She pressed her finger to the center of his chest.
“Protecting and controlling are two different things,” she informed him.
“If something happened—” His words broke off, a soul-deep vulnerability darkening his eyes as he grabbed her hand to give it a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t survive, Rya,” he rasped. “Not without y
ou.”
Her annoyance instantly faded, but she refused to back down. This was too important.
Torque was a predatory male who would walk all over her if she didn’t take a stand.
“Just as I couldn’t survive without you,” she said, her voice softening. “But what if Baine was attacked? Would you be willing to step aside because it might put you in danger?”
His brows snapped together. “It’s not the same.”
“Because I’m a female?”
“Because I don’t want to be reasonable,” he muttered.
Threading her fingers through his, she tugged his hand to her lips.
“You know I have to do this,” she murmured, pressing a kiss on his knuckles.
He heaved a harsh sigh. “Then I’m coming with you.”
It was her turn to frown. It was one thing for her to risk everything to save her mother. But it wasn’t Torque’s responsibility.
“But—”
“End of discussion,” he interrupted in tones that didn’t offer any room for argument.
Rya rolled her eyes in defeat. It was a waste of breath to try to convince him to return to his lair.
“We’re going to have an interesting future together,” she muttered, stepping around him to head out of her rooms.
“We are indeed,” he said from behind her.
In silence they joined Levet who was pacing the corridor.
“We’re ready,” she announced.
Levet glanced toward Torque who was standing in brooding silence before returning his attention to her.
“Can you take us to my house?” he demanded.
She reached out to lightly touch the upper curve of his wing. She’d never visited the teahouse just south of Chicago that had once belonged to Baine’s mate, Tayla, but she could use the mental bond that Levet had forged between them to locate it.
Closing her eyes, she allowed her fey magic to flow through her blood. It wasn’t like her dragon powers. This was light and bubbly and oddly intoxicating.
“There,” she muttered in satisfaction, feeling the portal form.
Torque instantly moved to stand at the entrance of the opening. “I go first,” he said.
His expression revealed that he was just waiting for her to argue.
“Whatever makes you happy.” Going onto her tiptoes, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping back to let him enter ahead of her.
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