“The Phoenix?”
“Yes.” She turned toward the witch on the floor. “The spell has begun.”
“Viper, kill her,” Dante rasped.
“My pleasure.”
Lowering his head to sink his fangs into the witch’s neck, Viper gave a low grunt and then astonishingly was flying backward as Edra struggled to sit up. In her hand was the amulet.
“Shit.” Dante was moving even as Edra lifted her hand to strike at Viper once again.
As fast as he moved, however, the blast of power was faster. He cursed as he realized that he would never arrive in time. Then, without warning, the Shalott was leaping onto Viper, taking the blow in her back and slumping over the startled vampire.
Dante whirled back to glare at the witch who was uneasily forcing herself to her feet.
“You can’t harm me,” she panted, perhaps more to reassure herself than to remind Dante of his impotency.
“Not yet, but soon I’ll see you in hell.”
She gave a wild laugh. “The spell has begun. No one can stop it now.”
He rapidly turned his attention to Abby to discover her on her knees. She was moaning as she rocked back and forth.
“God . . . Abby.”
“She can’t hear you. The Phoenix has taken control, and soon the Goddess will release the power that I have called forth.” The wild laugh came again. “She’s about to kill you, vampire.”
“No!” With a scream, Abby rose to her feet.
Dante stumbled back as the force of her presence abruptly flared through the room.
He could barely recognize his mate.
In the candlelight, her pale skin glowed with a strange luminescence, and the blue eyes had turned to a brilliant crimson, as if flames were lit behind them. Even her hair seemed to float on some unseen breeze as she lifted her arms wide and began to walk toward the witch.
“Beloved Goddess,” the witch breathed as she sank slowly to her knees.
Dante tried to step forward only to cry out as a wave of heat slammed him to the ground. The very air was sizzling around Abby, making it impossible to reach her.
Bloody hell, she was going to burn the house down around them.
After she managed to kill every demon.
Starting with him.
Battling back the blackness that was threatening to overwhelm him, Dante forced himself to his knees.
“Abby, you must stop—” he rasped.
“No.” Abby never took her attention off the kneeling witch. “This must end now.”
Shit. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t do a damn thing.
“Abby.”
Reaching the older woman, Abby held out her hand. “Rise.”
“Yes.” Awkwardly the witch managed to stand, an expression of adulation on her face. “I have waited so long to bathe in your glory. To see the full wonder of your powers.”
“You shall know my powers to the fullest, Edra.”
The words came out of Abby’s mouth, but the voice didn’t belong to her. She had been completely consumed by the spirit within her.
“Bless you, mistress. Bless you.”
Caught and held by the smoldering fire in Abby’s eyes, the witch stepped slowly forward. Dante frowned as Abby wrapped her arms about the woman. What the hell was the Phoenix up to?
He heard Viper and the Shalott groaning behind him, but his gaze never wavered from Abby as she closed her eyes and tilted back her head.
For a moment there was nothing.
Just the pulsing blackness that clutched at him with the promise of death. And then, from seemingly nowhere, there was a violent explosion.
Dante flew backward to land with a jarring impact against a mold-slick wall.
His ears were ringing, and he was fairly certain his brain had become dislodged. But amazingly he wasn’t dead.
At least not yet.
Giving his head a shake to clear the fog, he frantically searched through the thick smoke that filled the air. A sharp fear flared through him as he realized the encroaching darkness had been seared away.
And even more frightening, the leash that had held him prisoner for the past three centuries had been sharply severed.
He was free. But at what cost?
No.
Hell no.
He wouldn’t believe Abby was dead. He couldn’t believe it.
Scrambling on his hands and knees, he crossed the dirt floor to the last place he had seen Abby. It took less than a handful of seconds to move the short distance, but to Dante it seemed an eternity passed.
At last his searching hand encountered an outstretched arm. He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to touch the satin-soft skin.
A touch was enough.
He could feel her soul.
She was alive.
His head briefly touched the cool floor before he was moving to gather her still form in his arms. He ignored the mess that lay only a few feet away.
There was little left of Edra.
No doubt bits and pieces were scattered throughout the cellar. Certainly what was left of the charred lump couldn’t possibly add up to a whole body.
A cold smile touched his lips.
It was a fitting end to the witch.
“Abby.” He buried his face in her hair, holding her far too tight.
He felt her stir, and he pulled back to watch the brilliant blue eyes open.
“Dante?” Her face was covered in soot, her hair was singed, and there was blood on her chin.
And she had never looked so beautiful.
He pressed a careful kiss to her peeling lips.
“You did it, lover,” he husked. “You put an end to the spell.”
“Not me.” Her voice was raw and raspy, as if her throat had been burnt. “The Phoenix. It wouldn’t let itself be used to destroy without cause.”
“Sssh. We’ll discuss it later. For now all that matters is that you’re alive.”
The faintest smile touched her mouth. “And still a goddess.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “So it would seem.”
“Will you worship me?”
He brushed his lips on the dark bruises that marred her beautiful skin.
“Lover, I intend to worship you every night for the rest of eternity.”
Epilogue
Two weeks later, Abby was lying on the bed in Dante’s lair, watching as he carefully lit the candles he had placed about the room.
The witches had fled or been buried after Edra’s death, bringing an end to the coven. Not a great loss to Abby, considering they intended to use her as some sort of catalyst for Armageddon.
Granted, she was now stuck carrying a mystical spirit, but she was becoming much better at disguising her powers from those who would like to see her dead, and there were a number of benefits to being a Chalice.
Not the least of which was the promise of an eternity with Dante.
Above them, Selena’s mansion was slowly being reconstructed, complete with tinted windows and a new library for Dante’s vast collection of books. And, of course, the newer travel catalogues that he had ordered for Abby.
For their honeymoon, Dante had promised to take her around the world.
But first they would share the ceremony that would make them truly mates.
Stirring on the pillows, Abby tugged at the black satin sheet that was all that covered her naked body.
“I get that Selena and Edra were in a power struggle to decide who would be allowed to rid the world of demons and become some sort of demigod,” she murmured in lazy tones. “But I still don’t understand why they waited so long to try and use the spell. You would think as soon as Selena became the Chalice they would have tried to flex their mojo.”
Lighting the last of the candles, Dante turned to face her with a lift of his brow.
“Mojo?”
Her breath caught.
Wearing nothing more than a black silk robe and his hair framing his alabaster face, he looked every inch th
e wicked pirate.
Yum. Yum. Yum.
With an effort, she battled her attack of lust. “You know what I mean.”
He shrugged. “From what I could discover among Edra’s writings, it seems they were waiting for the stars to be in proper alignment.”
“Oh.”
“Clearly they didn’t realize that the Phoenix possessed a mind of its own and that it would destroy anyone seeking to use it for such evil.”
Abby shuddered. She still had nightmares of her time in the cellar with Edra.
“Not until too late.”
“Enough, lover,” he soothed. “We aren’t going to ruin our night with thoughts of the witches.”
No, they most certainly were not, Abby agreed, her gaze running over the perfect male body.
“You are looking way too sexy for anything to ruin the evening.”
The silver eyes blazed as he moved to place himself on the bed beside her.
“How sexy?”
Abby smiled as she helpfully tugged the robe off. “Surely at your age you wouldn’t be fishing for compliments?”
“I can’t use a mirror to reassure myself, so I must depend upon you.”
With the robe tossed onto the floor, Abby ran her hands over the smooth perfection of his back.
“Well, I suppose I won’t be kicking you out of my bed any time soon.”
His fangs flashed in the candlelight. Suddenly he looked incredibly exotic and every inch a vampire.
“Our bed,” he softly corrected.
Her heart halted as she gazed into the silver eyes.
“Our bed.”
With a slow motion, Dante pulled the sheet aside to allow the cool air to rush over her bare skin.
“Are you prepared?”
Her hands tightened on his back.
With the death of Edra, the spell that prevented Dante from being able to drink human blood had been broken. He was now a fully functioning vampire.
And anxious to complete the ceremony that would bind them together.
She gave a firm nod. “I’m ready.”
Easing himself on top of her, Dante settled between her legs. Then gently he brushed her hair from her neck.
Instinctively Abby stiffened.
“Don’t be frightened,” he husked. “I promise it won’t hurt.”
Breathing in deeply, Abby relaxed her tense muscles. “I’m not frightened.”
“And you’re certain that this is what you want? Once you have mated yourself to me, there is no going back.”
It was a familiar warning. Had it been up to her, they would have been mated the moment they had pulled themselves out of the cellar. Dante, however, had proven to be remarkably stubborn, refusing her demands until she had ample time to consider the consequences.
“We’ve already been through all this.”
“Yes, but—”
She reached up to frame his face in her hands. “Dante, shut up and make me yours.”
The silver eyes flared as a wicked smile suddenly curved his lips.
“Yes, my goddess,” he murmured, his head lowering to her exposed throat.
For all her words of bravery, Abby couldn’t deny she expected at least some pain.
You didn’t need to be a doctor to realize that shoving a pair of fangs through the skin was bound to cause a bit of discomfort.
Still, she didn’t allow herself to flinch as she felt his tongue tenderly stroke over the pulse at the base of her neck. Dante would halt the moment he sensed her tension.
“My love,” he whispered.
And then he bit.
Abby’s eyes widened in amazement. It hadn’t hurt. There was no more than a slide of cool pressure and then a jolt of pleasure so intense she jerked against Dante.
“Holy freaking cow,” she breathed as the heat flared through her body to pool in a blaze of desire in the pit of her stomach.
Her fingers clutched at his back, drawing blood as she arched her hips upward in a silent plea for relief.
His hands tangled in her hair as he continued to drink of her blood, and with one smooth movement, he had plunged deep within her. Abby gasped, the sensations so intense she feared she might black out.
Nothing should surely feel so good?
And be legal.
Trembling, Abby opened herself to his masterful strokes. She groaned with each thrust, her hips lifting to meet him with wild abandon.
The building pressure was delicious. Astonishing. And if she didn’t come soon, she feared she might actually explode.
“Dante . . . please.”
His soft chuckle brushed her neck, but seeming to understand her desperation, his pace quickened until she was arching beneath him and with a faint scream found her release.
Panting in exhaustion, Abby slowly opened her eyes to discover Dante regarding his arm. Slowly she turned her head, watching as the familiar crimson tattooing began to wind its way along his forearm.
A smug smile touched his lips as he turned back to regard her with a glittering gaze.
“I knew I would make you mine,” he murmured in arrogant tones.
Framing his face, she allowed her thumbs to run over the curve of his fangs.
“Dante, I’ve been yours from the moment I walked into this mansion and found a wicked pirate waiting for me.”
“My lover . . . for all eternity.”
“And goddess.” She pulled his head down for a lingering kiss. “Don’t forget goddess.”
He laughed as his hands began to busily stir her body back to passionate life.
“How could I possibly forget?”
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Alexandra Ivy’s
EMBRACE THE DARKNESS
coming soon from Zebra’s Books!
Chapter 1
The auction house on the outskirts of Chicago didn’t look like a cesspit.
Behind the iron fences, the elegant brick structure sprawled over the landscape with a visible arrogance. The rooms were large with vaulted ceilings that boasted beautiful murals and elegant chandeliers. And on the advice of a professional, they had been decorated with thick ivory carpets, glossy dark paneling, and hand-carved furniture.
The overall atmosphere was the sort of quiet hush that only money could buy. Lots and lots of money.
It was the sort of swanky place that should be peddling rare paintings, priceless jewels, and museum artifacts.
Instead, it was no more than a flesh market. A sewer where demons were sold like so much meat.
There was nothing pleasant about the slave trade. Not even when the trade involved demons rather than humans. It was a sordid business that attracted every decadent, demented slimeball in the country.
They came for all sorts of pathetic reasons.
Those who bought demons for mercenaries or bodyguards. Those who lusted after the more exotic sex slaves. Those who believed the blood of demons could bring them magic or eternal life.
And those who purchased demons to be released into their private lands and hunted like wild animals.
The bidders were men and women without conscience or morals. Only enough money to sate their twisted pleasures.
And at the top of the dung heap was the owner of the auction house, Evor. He was one of the lesser trolls who made his living upon the misery of others with a smile on his face.
Someday Shay intended to kill Evor.
Unfortunately, it would not be today.
Or rather tonight.
Attired in ridiculous harem pants and a tiny sequined top that revealed far more than it concealed, she paced the cramped cell behind the auction rooms. Her long raven hair had been pulled to a braid that hung nearly to her waist. Better to reveal her slanted golden eyes, the delicate cast to her features, and the bronzed skin that marked her as something other than human.
Less than two months before, she had been a slave to a coven of witches who intended to bring Armageddon to all demons. At the time she had
thought anything was preferable to being their toady as she helplessly watched their evil plotting.
Hell, it’s tough to top genocide.
It was only when she had been forced back to the power of Evor that she understood that death was not always the worst fate.
The grave was really nothing compared to what waited for her beyond the door.
Without thought, Shay struck out with her foot, sending the lone table sailing through the air to crash against the iron bars with astonishing force.
From behind her came a heavy sigh that had her spinning to regard the small gargoyle hiding behind a chair in the far corner.
Levet wasn’t much of a gargoyle.
Oh, he possessed the traditional grotesque features. Thick gray skin, reptilian eyes, horns, and cloven hooves. He even possessed a long tail he polished and pampered with great pride. Unfortunately, despite his frightening appearance, he was barely three feet tall, and, worse, as far as he was concerned, he possessed a pair of delicate, gossamer wings that would have been more fitting on a sprite or fairy than a lethal creature of the dark.
As if to add to his humiliation, his powers were unpredictable under the best of circumstances, and his courage more often than not missing in action.
It was little wonder he had been voted out of the Gargoyle Guild and forced to fend for himself. They claimed he was an embarrassment to the entire community, and not one had stepped forward when he had been captured and made a slave by Evor.
Shay had taken the pathetic creature under her protection the moment she had been forced back to the auction house. Not only because she possessed a regrettable tendency to leap to the defense of anyone weaker than herself, but also because she knew that it aggravated Evor to have his favorite whipping boy taken away.
The troll might hold the curse that bound her, but if he pressed her far enough, she would be willing to kill him, even if it meant an end to her own life.
“Cherie, did the table do something I did not see or were you just attempting to teach it a lesson?” Levet demanded, his voice low and laced with a lilting French accent.
Not at all the sort of thing to improve his status among the gargoyles.
Shay smiled wryly. “I was imagining it was Evor.”
“Strange, they do not greatly resemble each other.”
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