Sacre bleu.
He’d had little choice but to sneak into The Viper Pit. The vampires were a prickly bunch, and they had an annoying tendency to hold a grudge. Really, you would think they had never heard of the golden rule to “forgive and forget.” If he wanted to warn Styx about the dragons, then he would have to find a way to force him to listen.
Then, as occasionally happened, Levet had found himself distracted.
A lethal mistake, as Viper moved with blinding speed, leaping upward to grasp Levet and yank him out of the chandelier.
“Well, well. Look what I discovered, amigo,” Viper drawled, holding Levet by the horn like he was a sack of potatoes. “It appears that I have bats in my belfry.”
Styx slowly rose to his feet, the lights suddenly flickering. The Anasso’s anger could take out entire grids of electricity.
“It’s kind of chunky to be a bat,” Styx retorted.
Viper smiled, displaying his snowy white fangs. “And his wings are entirely too frilly. Just like a dew fairy.”
Levet struggled, even knowing it was a futile effort. It was the principle of the thing.
“They are not frilly,” Levet muttered, his tail twitching.
Viper lifted Levet higher, twirling him around.
“What do you think, oh mighty master?” Viper mocked. “Do you proclaim them frilly?”
Levet caught sight of Styx rolling his eyes. The ancient vampire hated to be reminded that he was king. It was a position that was more a duty than a pleasure. Still, the annoying creature was happy enough to poke fun of Levet.
“Yeah, they’re frilly,” Styx agreed.
“There,” Viper said. “It’s been proclaimed.”
Levet scowled, hoping the crowd of demons that were carousing below could not see his humiliation. He did have a reputation to protect.
Giving another wiggle, Levet glared at his tormentors. “Release me or I will tell Shay you are being mean to me again.”
Viper hissed, his lips pulling back as his fangs lengthened. “Do you want to kill him, or can I do it?” he asked his overly-large companion.
Levet flapped his wings. Oops. Perhaps it was not the best strategy to threaten to tattle to Viper’s pretty mate, Shay. The male was a little sensitive about the fact that Levet was a favorite with the females. “Wait,” he demanded.
Styx ignored him, folding his arms over his massive chest. “He did try to sell my sword.”
Viper shrugged. “Yes, but he wrecked my favorite car.”
“True. Still, I—”
“The dragons are coming to start a war,” Levet hastily interrupted.
He did not think that the two vampires would actually kill him. But it might be best not to take the risk.
A sudden chill saturated the air as Styx stiffened. “Is he drunk?”
“I don’t think so.” Viper held Levet closer, pretending to study him. Then he sniffed his breath. “Hard to tell with a gargoyle.”
Levet gave an annoyed wave of his hands. “I am serious. You must listen to me.”
“Must?” The chill was beginning to frost Levet’s tail as Styx narrowed his eyes. “Do you think you can give me orders?”
“Fine.” Levet made a sound of resignation. What did he care if the dragons and vampires decided to have a war? It was not as if it mattered to him. “Then be turned into piles of ash. See if I care.”
There was a tense silence before Styx muttered a curse.
“Release him,” he abruptly commanded.
Viper scowled. “Are you serious?”
Styx gave a nod. “Yes. If this is another of his idiotic tricks, then you can rip off his head.”
“You swear?”
“On my honor.”
Levet felt himself being unceremoniously dropped to the ground. With a flap of his wings he managed to land on his feet, sending his two tormentors a glare.
“Vampires.” Sheer disgust edged his words. “You are as bad as dragons.”
Styx towered over him, his lean face hard with warning. “Start talking.”
Levet sniffed, heroically resisting the urge to blow a raspberry toward the arrogant beast. He had to try and think of Tayla. His friend was depending on him.
“Perhaps you have heard of Synge?” he instead asked.
“Baine’s sire,” Styx retorted.
The dragons rarely interacted with this world, but Levet wasn’t surprised the vampire was familiar with the various names and clan connections. It wasn’t just Styx’s big sword that made him the natural leader of the vampires.
“Oui,” Levet said. “The ancient dragon was recently reunited with his daughter, Blayze.”
“I’d heard rumors that she was found by Tayla along with a tribe of Sylvermyst,” Viper murmured. The silver-haired vampire traded in information along with pleasure at his various clubs.
Styx nodded. “Isn’t she the one who was cursed?”
“Unfortunately,” Levet said.
Styx regarded Levet with a smoldering impatience. “What does that have to do with the vampires?”
“A few hours ago, Blayze disappeared from her father’s lair,” Levet explained.
Styx arched his dark brows. “Dragons don’t just disappear. Not unless they want to.”
“So far it is a mystery.” Levet puffed out his chest. “Which is why they sent for moi.”
“You?” Viper’s disbelief was palpable. “The dragons asked you to come to their lair?”
Levet pursed his lips. He didn’t know why it was surprising. He was, after all, a renowned Knight In Shining Armor.
Why wouldn’t the dragons send for him when they needed a hero?
Then he recalled that it wasn’t precisely the dragons who’d wanted him to travel to their lair.
“Actually…” He cleared his throat. “It was Tayla who offered the invitation.”
Styx took a minute to connect the name with a demon. “The imp who is mated to Baine,” he at last said.
“And my friend,” Levet added with pride.
Styx didn’t appear nearly as impressed as he should be. Instead, he continued to study Levet with seething impatience. “Why would she send for you?”
Levet puffed out his chest even farther, nearly popping a rib out of place. “She desired me to use my awesome skills to discover who’d kidnapped Blayze.”
Viper snorted, but it was Styx who asked the obvious question.
“And did you discover who was responsible?”
Levet hesitated. He was getting to the part where he needed to choose his words with care. See—he did not have a death wish.
“Well, I was in the process of searching for an intruder when my magic shattered an illusion that was hiding the origin of Blayze’s curse.”
Styx and Viper exchanged a glance. The sort of glance that implied they were dealing with a creature who was not entirely sane.
“Do you know what the hell he just said?” Viper drawled.
Levet shook his head. “Barbarians.”
Styx abruptly sliced his large hand through the air. “Get to the point.”
“I exposed the magic responsible for the curse,” Levet continued. “It was obviously a spell created by a human, but I could detect that a vampire had been the one to cast it.”
Styx looked confused. “How could you know that?”
Levet gave a wave of his hand. “When the spell exploded it left tiny bits of the vampire’s essence embedded in the wall.”
The Anasso grimaced, but he didn’t press for details. Vampires possessed a deep, abiding hatred for magic. It was the one thing that their considerable powers couldn’t control. They couldn’t even detect it.
“What does this have to do with Blayze’s disappearance?” Styx demanded.
“I am not certain. I was attempting to explain what I had discovered, but like vampires, a dragon cannot allow a demon to finish a sentence,” Levet complained, hunching his shoulders. “It was not my fault.”
Viper tilted his
head to the side. “What wasn’t your fault?”
“Synge happened to walk in while I was offering my big revolt.”
“Reveal,” Viper corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“Oui. Big reveal.” Levet waved a dismissive hand. “All the stupid creature managed to hear was that a vampire had cursed his daughter.”
Realization of the massive danger about to descend on them hit the two vampires with visible force. Viper cursed. But it was Styx’s surge of icy power that made the club suddenly fall silent.
No one within a six-block radius could miss the Anasso’s displeasure as the lights sparked and then went dark.
“Shit,” Styx growled.
Levet took a strategic step backward. It wasn’t that he was scared of the vampires. Of course he wasn’t. But he was small, and Styx had feet the size of tanks. He might get squashed as the male paced from one end of the balcony to the other.
“It is not my fault,” Levet reminded the furious vampires.
“Where is Synge?” Styx demanded.
Levet lowered his gaze, pretending to study the floorboards beneath his claws.
“Levet, answer the question,” Viper snapped.
Levet heaved a sigh, reluctantly lifting his head to meet Styx’s frigid gaze.
“I am not certain, but Baine was following him,” he confessed. “Perhaps he has managed to calm the—”
His words were interrupted as the entire building was suddenly shaking like it’d just been hit by an earthquake. Only Levet knew it wasn’t a natural force that was making the floor tremble beneath his feet, and the chandeliers sway from side to side. Not when the air was sizzling with a heat that could only come from a pissed-off dragon.
Styx sent him a narrow-eyed glare. “You were saying?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Blayze was trying not to be overwhelmed.
It was unexpectedly difficult.
After all, it was one thing to experience the world through the eyes of her mother. There was a constant buffer between herself and actually being awake and fully aware of the sensations that battered against her. But now she was left raw and exposed.
And it didn’t help to have Char standing just a few inches away from her.
She’d seen other dragons through her mother’s eyes, but never one who was this gorgeous. His gray eyes that darkened from silver to smoke, the blond hair that was short enough to emphasize his finely carved features. And his hard, male body.
He was deliciously sexy.
Was it any wonder her dragon was anxiously pressing against her skin, wanting a taste?
With an effort, she battled the urge to reach up her hand and touch the warm skin of his face.
She’d risked everything to travel back through time. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted from her goal.
Later she would indulge in her new, unexpectedly sensual attraction toward Char.
“You hope to discover who cursed you before it can happen?” the male was asking, his brow wrinkled.
“Yes.” She didn’t understand why he looked so confused. It seemed the obvious solution to her. “I know the exact time I was cursed. And I thought I knew the exact place.”
His lips flattened. “A dangerous plan.”
She shrugged. I didn’t matter if it was dangerous. Not if it could work. “It was the most logical way to get rid of the curse. But now…” Her words trailed away as she glanced around the room in disappointment.
“But what?” her companion prompted.
She grimaced, her mind racing. Had she changed the past simply by coming back in time? It was a possibility.
“I should be here,” she said, pointing toward the spot where her bed was located in the future.
Char took a long minute. He had a sour look on his face. The same look her mother had when she wanted to scold Blayze. The male, however, was smart enough not to waste his breath.
“Perhaps you’re sharing your mother’s room,” he instead suggested. “It looks as if this nursery is still being refurbished.”
She wrinkled her nose, walking toward the distant wall. She’d spent centuries being hidden by her mother. Usually in some remote pocket between dimensions. But she’d instantly sensed when she’d been returned to her childhood room two days ago.
It’d been in the scent of incense in the air. The warmth of her father’s power.
And the evil that continued to pulse in the air.
“No. I could feel the curse,” she insisted, placing her hand against the wall. “Here. This is the place it was cast. Which means that I should be here.”
Char glanced toward the empty wall before offering a small shrug. “Clearly something is wrong. We need to go back.”
She continued to run her hand over the smooth stone. “I can’t.”
The male made a sound of annoyance. “You can’t? Or you won’t?”
“Can’t.”
There was a dramatic pause. “Are you telling me that we’re stuck in this time?” the half-dragon finally asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Heat swirled through the air, the certain sign that Char was struggling to contain his temper.
“Perfect,” he snapped.
She studied him, still unaccustomed to being battered by such intense emotions. She’d been protected for so long it was fascinating.
And slightly irritating.
“I told you I didn’t mean for you to come with me.”
His eyes shimmered with a brilliant silver fire as he stepped toward her. “Stop saying that.”
Her lips parted to—
Well, she was going to say something, but she forgot exactly what it was as he swooped his head downward and covered her mouth with his own.
Blayze froze. Not in panic. Or fear. Or even outrage.
Nope, it was pure, undiluted pleasure.
His lips were hard, demanding a response even as his hands stroking through her hair were unbearably gentle. Deep inside, her dragon purred, seduced by the taste of his kiss. Fire. Spice. And the bubbling effervescence of his fey magic.
Intoxicating.
Briefly forgetting her determination to concentrate on her reason for traveling to this particular time and place, Blayze lifted her hands to lay them against his chest. She could feel his heat searing through the thin white shirt, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to stroke her fingers over his bare flesh. And to arch her body against his hard muscles.
But her lack of experience made her feel awkward and uncertain.
Should she wiggle her hands beneath the shirt? Or did she just rip it off?
She was still floundering for an answer when Char ended her dilemma by slowly lifting his head to stare down at her with a brooding expression.
Disappointment cascaded through her. Tilting back her head, she fought to leash her inner beast.
“Why did you stop?” she demanded.
“Because I shouldn’t have started in the first place,” he growled, his voice rough. “But you’re like my grandfather’s demon brew.”
Blayze blinked. She knew that demon brew was a potent liqueur made by orcs, but she didn’t know what that had to do with her.
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s…intoxicating. Like drinking wildfire.” He gave a small shake of his head. “But it always ends up with a nasty hangover,” he rasped, his eyes smoldering as he brushed his fingers over her cheek. Her lips parted, but once again he halted her from speaking by lowering his head and pressing a short, searing kiss on her mouth. His hands framed her face, his heat blasting around her. “Hell,” he muttered against her lips. “What am I doing?”
“Kissing me,” Blayze told him, wondering if he was as confused as she was.
Her brain was spinning in a strange but wonderful way, making it hard to think clearly.
“You’re a pureblood,” he breathed.
“And you’re a half-breed.”
“Exactly.”
Her brows pulled tog
ether in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Your father would turn me into a crispy critter if he ever discovered I had dared to touch you,” he explained.
Blayze took an abrupt step backward, shaking off his lingering touch. Over the centuries she’d been cocooned from the world, but the one thing she’d always been perfectly clear about was the fact that Synge had agreed with the Dragon Council to have her destroyed when she was just a babe.
“Don’t call him that,” she commanded.
Char studied her with a puzzled frown. “What?”
“He’s not my father.”
“Blayze?”
Char’s voice was laced with concern, as if he was worried she wasn’t entirely stable.
“Synge was willing to stand aside and allow me to be destroyed,” she said, the room glowing as white flames danced over her skin. “I have no loyalty to my sire.”
Reminded of why she was there, Blayze pivoted on her heel and headed toward the door. She was out of the room and marching up the narrow corridor before Char managed to catch up with her.
“Hold on, Blayze,” he said in low tones, reaching to grasp her arm. “There’s something going on.”
Coming to a halt, Blayze belatedly caught the distant sounds and scents that she could sense were coming from Synge’s throne room.
“A party,” she murmured.
Char’s fingers tightened on her arm. “We can’t just waltz around without a plan.”
“Shh.” She motioned Char toward an open door. “Someone’s coming.”
In silence they entered the small room that appeared to be some sort of storage area.
Char pushed the door until it was left open less than an inch. It made it impossible to see who was strolling down the hallway, but Blayze could easily determine that it was two female dragons.
She could also hear their conversation despite the fact that they were speaking in whispers.
“I wish I had known that it was going to be such a grand event,” the first female complained.
The second female clicked her tongue. “Well, it is Synge. He must always be outlandish. Whether it is conquering another clan or announcing that his mate is pregnant with a female.”
Blayze stifled her gasp. She suddenly realized why her private chambers hadn’t looked familiar.
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