When Darkness Ends

by Alexandra Ivy

  Styx silently joined him along with Dante and a scowling Fallon.

  They all studied the Oracles who seemed unaware of their presence as they continued their low chanting.

  “I wonder if only the Zalez demon is programed to attack?” Styx muttered.

  Cyn glanced toward the king. “Do you have a plan?” The grim warrior gave a shake of his head. “If we all attack at once, then one of us can surely get to the amulet.”

  Viper lifted a brow. “That’s your plan? Everyone attack?”

  Styx shrugged. “I’ll admit it lacks subtlety, but we don’t have time for an elaborate strategy session.”

  Dante smiled. “Works for me.”

  It worked for Cyn as well, except for the whole “everyone” attack.

  “Fallon, you need to stay outside the cavern.”

  Predictably she was shaking her head before he finished speaking.

  “You need my help.”

  Styx sent him a regretful gaze. “It’s true.”

  Cyn was prepared. “We’ll need her to destroy the amulet once we get our hands on it,” he pointed out in perfectly reasonable tones. Not at all like his usual berserker self. “She can’t do that if she’s in the middle of battling some Oracle or injured.”

  Styx gave a slow nod. “Good point.”

  “But—”

  The king held up a slender hand. “He’s right, Fallon. We need you to be safe long enough to destroy the amulet.”

  She clearly wanted to argue, but perhaps sensing that Styx wasn’t a vampire who was willing to negotiate when he gave an order, she turned her attention to Cyn.

  “Fine. I’ll wait here,” she grudgingly conceded. “But if you get yourself killed—”

  He moved to halt her angry words with a short, wholly possessive kiss.

  “You’re not getting rid of me so easy, princess,” he murmured, allowing himself to savor her heartrending beauty. “Just be waiting with whatever magic you need to get rid of the amulet.”

  She gave a slow nod, her expression somber. “I’ll be ready.”

  “Cyn,” Styx murmured.

  He reluctantly turned to find his fellow vampires waiting for him, their weapons drawn.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Styx lifted his hand, gesturing for them to spread out.

  In silence, Viper and Dante slid through the shadows, reaching the far end of the cavern before Styx slashed his hand through the air, giving them the signal to attack.

  Cyn waited for the king to circle toward the side of the table, before he moved to capture the attention of Recise.

  He grimaced as the demon shifted his appearance again, this time going from the typical image of a fairy to looking specifically like Fallon. The bastard. Logically knowing that the Zalez demon’s self-protection was looking like his opponent’s deepest fantasy was considerably different than coming face to face with his soon-to-be mate.

  Ignoring the false façade, as well as the tug of sexual awareness, Cyn darted forward, slicing his dagger toward the demon’s face.

  Recise instinctively twisted to the side, the movement making his golden hair swing over his shoulder, just as Cyn had expected. He’d obsessively watched Fallon’s every movement. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

  Reaching out, he grabbed the silken strands, yanking the demon close enough to sink his fangs into the bastard’s throat.

  There was a screech of pain as the demon struggled to get away from Cyn’s iron grip, his shape changing back to his original form.

  Continuing to drain the flaying Zalez, Cyn glanced toward the table where three more Oracles had risen from their seats to meet the vampires.

  A Darcole demon was using its tentacles to force Dante against the wall of the cavern, while Viper was dodging the whirling sword of a Mogwa. Styx, meanwhile, was trying not to be burned to a crisp by Phyla, whose slender body was covered from head to toe in flames.

  And still the rest of the Oracles continued to chant, the amulet in the middle of the table humming louder and louder.

  Recise began to weaken in his arms, but even as he prepared to shove him aside and make a leap for the table, the bastard was placing his hands against Cyn’s chest to hit him with another fireball.

  Cyn was forced back. Shit. Two more ribs broken and his chest seared to black.

  He ripped off his sweater that was smoldering from the burst of flames and grabbed the demon by the throat, squeezing his scrawny neck with enough force to crush the fragile bones.

  Recise struggled, his eyes still dull with the force of the Compulsion spell as he used his claws to shred Cyn’s arms down to the bone.

  Cyn ignored the pain, continuing to squeeze. The demon was already weakened from his blood loss. It wouldn’t take much more to disable him long enough to get to the table.

  As long as he didn’t manage to conjure up another fireball, Cyn grimly conceded.

  Recise wasn’t the only one who was running on fumes.

  He wasn’t sure he could survive another blast.

  Distantly he was aware of his brothers fighting for their lives, as well as Fallon who had crept closer to the melee, but he didn’t dare allow his attention to be diverted from the demon he held in his hands.

  His fingers dug into the spongy flesh and Cyn felt the demon begin to grow limp. Then, without warning, the dull eyes flashed with something that might have been terror as Recise was able to break free of the Compulsion.

  “Spell . . .” he breathed. “You must stop . . .”

  The man slumped forward and Cyn dropped him to the ground. The demon might be pretending to be unconscious to lure him into lowering his guard, but he couldn’t afford to wait.

  He suspected that it was more than just his wounds that was making him feel as if he was being rapidly drained of his strength.

  The spell was clearly affecting him.

  And he wasn’t the only one, if Styx’s grunt of pain and Viper’s low curses were anything to go by.

  It was now or never.

  Leaping over the Zalez demon, he darted straight for the table, hissing in pain as one of the other Oracles rose to their feet to grasp his arm and send jolts of electricity sizzling through his body.

  He shoved his hand against the female demon’s face even as he leaned over the table, grasping the amulet.

  Another jolt shot through him, nearly making him black out.

  Moaning, he managed to reach out and grasp the amulet, then spinning around he used the last of his strength to toss it toward the waiting Fallon.

  She snatched it out of the air, her face tight with concentration as she placed the amulet on the floor and laid her hands over it.

  Instantly he could feel the heat from her spell fill the air.

  And he wasn’t the only one.

  As one the Oracles turned in her direction, ending their spell as they simultaneously gathered their powers to strike at Fallon.

  “No.” With the last of his strength, Cyn turned to race back to his princess.

  He had a last vision of Fallon slamming her fist down on the amulet as the first bombardment of power exploded directly into her back.

  Her pained cry sliced through him and he launched himself forward, fully intending to shield her with his body.

  But even as he was flying through the air, there was a sudden shimmer and without warning a tall man wearing a robe of purest white suddenly appeared.

  Cyn easily recognized Fallon’s father, Sariel.

  He had long hair the color of spun gold that was held from his face by a narrow band of silver studded with priceless gems and eyes that were faintly slanted and the color of polished amber flecked with jade.

  He was as stunningly beautiful as his daughter, but there was an arrogance etched onto his narrow face that set Cyn’s fangs on edge. Not to mention the glittering hatred in his eyes as he glared at Cyn before he leaned down to scoop the unconscious Fallon in his arms.

  With one last glower, he spoke a single
word and disappeared with Cyn’s mate.

  Cyn bellowed in rage, barely aware of the magic that was smashing into him as he fell to his knees.

  Fallon . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The barren room that had been carved from pure stone was well hidden behind a secret panel.

  There were no windows, no furniture, and the fairy lights that danced in the shadows of the low ceiling were deliberately muted.

  In the very center of the stone floor was one wooden bowl half filled with water.

  Seated next to the bowl, Fallon pressed a hand to her aching heart as she watched Cyn pace the small meadow over and over.

  He looked as gorgeous as always with his body shown to perfect advantage in the faded jeans and cable-knit sweater that was stretched across his wide chest. His hair shimmered like pure gold in the moonlight with the two thin braids framing his face threaded with tiny jade beads.

  But even in the darkness she could make out the lines of weariness that marred the beauty of his face and the growing tension in his broad shoulders.

  No surprise. This was the third night in a row he’d spent pacing the meadow before being forced to hide during daylight hours in a small, cramped hole he’d dug in the ground.

  He was there, of course, because it was one of the few openings to her homeland, and while he couldn’t see or feel it, he could no doubt sense her presence.

  And the fact she couldn’t reach him was breaking her heart.

  Damn her father.

  When she’d awoken to discover she’d somehow been returned to the Chatri palace, she’d instantly tried to return to Cyn.

  She not only had to make sure he’d fully recovered from his battle with the Oracles, but she simply needed to be near him.

  It was as necessary as breathing.

  But she’d swiftly discovered that her father had managed to put a dampening spell around her room, which meant she couldn’t create a portal. And worse, she had two guards who constantly stood just outside her door, ensuring she couldn’t leave.

  Unable to contact her vampire, she’d had to be satisfied with sneaking into her secret room so she could at least catch sight of him.

  “Wait for me,” she whispered softly, brushing her fingers over the smooth wood of the bowl. “I’m going to find a way to get to you. I swear.”

  Sensing the approach of her father, Fallon hastily rose to her feet and hurried out of the room, sliding shut the hidden door behind her.

  Then, smoothing her hands down her white satin robe that shimmered with priceless diamonds that were sewn along the plunging neckline and hem, she moved to the center of the room.

  A second later there was a tap on the outer door and her father made his grand appearance, filling the air with the scent of a rich, full-bodied wine.

  Wearing a heavy robe that was heavily embroidered with dozens of precious jewels, he had his golden hair pulled into a dozen complicated braids and his silver crown firmly settled on top of his head.

  He looked every inch the King of Chatri.

  Moving with a slow elegance, he circled the room, pretending to study the delicate tapestries that covered the walls and the thickly cushioned furniture that had been personally chosen by Fallon. She’d also created the cascade of water that spilled through a wide crack in the flagstone floor, lined by flowers with vivid blooms in shades from crimson to brilliant sapphire.

  She loved the sensation that a tiny meadow had just appeared in the center of her room.

  Her father, however, wasn’t admiring her skill at decorating. Instead he was constantly attempting to discover where she kept her scrying bowls.

  “Good morning, daughter,” he at last murmured.

  She gave a stiff nod of her head. Time moved differently within the palace.

  “Father,” she murmured.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She shrugged. It had taken her a full day and night to recover from the blast of magic that had hit her even as she was destroying the amulet.

  Which was how her father had managed to trap her before she could escape.

  “As I’ve told you several times, I’m fully recovered,” she said, her voice cold.

  “Hmm.” Sariel ran a slender finger down the length of his jaw. “That is for the healer to decide.”

  She narrowed her gaze, not fooled for a minute. “Why don’t you just admit the truth?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You aren’t keeping me confined to my rooms because you’re concerned for my health,” she said between gritted teeth. “You merely wish to keep me from leaving.”

  He tilted his chin to an arrogant angle, folding his arms over his chest.

  “A princess belongs in her father’s palace.”

  Her lips twisted with a wry humor. Just a few days ago she’d been sick with the thought of being shunned by her father. Now she was furious that he had not only refused to shun her, but he was insisting that she choose another fiancé and start planning her wedding.

  “You allowed Magnus to return to the human world,” she pointed out, having used her scrying bowl to watch her former fiancé announce he was leaving to marry the imp, Tonya, who’d captured his heart.

  The reaction had been . . . epic.

  Not only had the elder members of his House walked out of the public meeting, but Sariel had openly threatened to have him banned from the palace.

  Nothing had swayed Magnus, however, who had proudly stalked out of the throne room and back into the arms of his beautiful imp.

  “Magnus.” Sariel curled his lips in disgust. “A most unsuitable prince. I am deeply relieved that he is not to be a member of our family.”

  Her heart twisted with envy. “He fell in love.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Why do you call it nonsense?” Fallon gave a slow shake of her head. Like many kings, her father had chosen to keep an extensive harem. Clearly not one of the females he’d taken to his bed had managed to capture his heart. She might have felt sorry for him if he wasn’t so determined to steal her own chance for love. “What could be more important than spending your life with the person who fate intended to be your mate?”

  Expecting anger, Fallon was caught off guard when something that might have been distress flared through her father’s eyes.

  “Fallon, this is your home,” he said softly, reaching to grasp her hand. “This is where you belong.”

  “But it isn’t.” She grimaced. “It never has been.”

  Sariel’s lips flattened at her refusal to play the role of obedient princess.

  “I blame that vampire for your discontent,” he said. “He stole you from your family—”

  “It was the Oracle who took me from this palace, not Cyn,” she interrupted. “He’s the one who kept me alive.”

  “Yes, I saw how well he was protecting you when I arrived in the caves,” her father snapped.

  She rolled her eyes. The second she’d destroyed the amulet the spell had been broken, allowing Sariel the opportunity to use his portal to trace her.

  He would, of course, choose the moment that she was being injured.

  “I don’t want a protector. I want a partner,” she informed him. “A man who sees me as more than just a means to improve the status of his family.” She squeezed his fingers, willing him to understand just how important this was to her. “I want to be loved.”

  Sariel pulled his hand free, squaring his shoulders. “Clearly you are still not fully recovered from your ordeal.”

  Fallon clenched her hands in frustration. “You can’t keep me imprisoned forever,” she muttered.

  “When you are prepared to choose a new fiancé from among the Chatri princes, I will release you.” With rigid dignity Sariel marched toward the door. “Until then you will remain in these rooms.”

  “No.” Fallon darted forward only to have the door slammed in her face. Lifting her hand, she slammed it against the wooden panel. “Dammit.”

&nbs
p; Cyn ignored the King of Vampires who stood at the edge of the meadow watching him pace with an unreadable expression.

  He knew that his brothers were worried about him.

  Over the past three nights he’d been visited by a half dozen vampires who had all urged him to return to his lair. Dante. Viper. Roke. Jagr. Santiago. Even Lise had traveled from Ireland.

  He’d ignored them all.

  Clearly they’d finally decided to call in the big guns.

  And you didn’t get much bigger than a six-foot-five Aztec warrior dressed in leather.

  Waiting until Cyn’s pacing had brought him within a few feet, Styx at last stepped forward.

  “How long do you intend to remain here?” he demanded. Cyn came to a grudging halt, meeting Styx’s searching gaze with a fierce scowl.

  He’d awoken three days ago in Styx’s lair to discover the threat to the world had been averted. Not that he was in any mood to celebrate.

  Instead he’d slipped out of the Chicago mansion as soon as he was capable of moving. And while he knew he couldn’t force his way into fairyland, he’d gone to the one place that he knew there was an opening.

  Months ago he’d stood in this very meadow while Roke struggled to reach his mate.

  It’d been Fallon who’d opened a doorway . . .

  His heart clenched, the pain that surged through him so raw that it nearly drove him to his knees.

  “Until I have my mate,” he rasped.

  “Cyn—”

  “Don’t bother.” Cyn sharply interrupted the lecture. He’d already heard it all. Lise had warned him that nothing would have kept Fallon from leaving her home if she truly wanted to be with him. Viper reminded him how fickle the fey could be. Dante had emphasized the difficulties of mating with another species. Especially when she happened to be a royal princess. And even Roke had mentioned the fact that it would be hard for a female trained to obey her father with utter loyalty to turn her back on him. “I’m not leaving until I know for certain that she’s fully recovered, and that she doesn’t want to be with me. End of story.”

  Styx grimaced, but he didn’t look surprised. “I have called in every fey who owes me a favor to try and find a way into fairyland,” he said. “Eventually they’ll come up with something.” He reached out to grasp Cyn’s shoulder. “You’re tired. Why not return to my lair and wait there?”