She tried to shake Tibor off, but her limbs were too weak. She began to sink into that thick syrupy gloom.
Then she sensed him. On the psychic plane, Neo’s dragon broke through Tibor’s hold.
The metallic scent of bitter almonds intensified, and her chest heaved. The darkness crowded in on her. Her throat closed.
The light inside her swooped toward Neo’s flame. No, she tried to hold back her unicorn energy, tried to tell her spirit he wasn’t for her.
If she reached for him, she’d initiate the mating bond. She’d be showing him exactly what he couldn’t have, for she’d have to leave him.
But the light had a rhythm of its own.
It knew the only way to survive the darkness was to reach for the fire.
Swooping out, her spirit latched on to his.
There was no hesitation; his dragon’s indigo merged with her white light.
He was warmth, strength, and everything she’d been waiting for. His psychic heat slid into her, and she held on to it, even as Tibor began to teleport.
The psychic breeze snapped her hair back.
She looked up to find Neo was almost upon them. His face wore an expression of such fear, such agony. She felt his desperation like her own.
Then she was yanked against Tibor’s chest. His metallic stink almost gagged her, pushing her to turn to Neo’s heat.
Holding it in, drawing it in.
“Don’t come closer or I’ll kill her.” Tibor’s nails dug into the side of her neck from where he held her.
She bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying out loud in pain.
Neo paused. Every muscle in his body tensed. His gaze was fixed on her face. Every part of her was tuned in to him. She felt him as keenly as if he were a part of her already.
The portal yanked her in.
She flung out a hand.
Neo reached for her, and his fingers touched hers.
Then they were sucked into the teleportation tunnel.
Steel-gray beams of energy sliced through her light body. Sharp geometric shapes tore at her psychic self. Then darkness swarmed over her.
23
Neo
When Neo came to, he was in a cell of some kind. He tried to move but couldn’t. He looked up and found his arms had been pulled apart and tied at the ceiling.
His legs were belted to the floor with heavy straps.
Sweat trickled down his back. The floor was cold under his feet—he’d lost his boots at some point. His shirt, too, for that matter. Strange.
It was cold enough for his breath to emerge in white puffs. Wherever this was, the temperature in this room was much lower than the warm tropical climate of Bombay.
He was spread-eagled. At least he still had his pants on. But something about the way he’d been trussed up sent a warning jangling through his brain. Something was not right.
The ropes were knotted so tight that the muscles of his legs spasmed. When he wriggled his fingers, the ropes cut into his skin. Pin pricks of pain tugged at his nerve endings. Whoever had bound him was either a shifter or something stronger.
He sniffed, and the faint scent of dry frost had the hackles on his neck rising.
His heart raced, and his pulse rate picked up.
Once more, he was that little boy who’d been burned by hellfire, whose dragon had been forced into remission. Bile rose, and he swallowed it down.
Firming his muscles, he dragged at the ropes tying him until he panted. If anything, he’d only succeeded in the ropes tightening around his arms and legs. He willed his muscles to relax.
Trinity. Where was she? Last he remembered, he’d grabbed her hand, then he’d been wrenched into the portal with her.
When Tibor had tried to take her away, the animal inside him had gone a little crazy. Yet the Elysian’s psychic presence had taken him by surprise before he could shift.
He had no right to claim her, not until he could protect her.
His dragon had no such qualms. His beast had sensed her in trouble. When she’d reached out to him, he had met her on the psychic plane and formed a fledgling connection.
There was no way he was going to let Tibor take her from him. He just had to be careful not to complete the mating bond.
He reached out to her on the psychic plane and found that the pale shadow of herself, that white light of hers that had reached for him and twined around his own psychic presence, was still.
So, she was alive, but gone was the vibrancy, that heat and healing frequency of the light he had sensed earlier. It was as if she was behind a barrier of some kind. Like she was hiding her true self from the Fae and the Elysian male.
Of course she was. Trinity was intelligent and highly evolved. She was a healer, but she was also a survivor. She was a stealth warrior, one who knew how to hold her own against her enemies.
He yanked at the heavy chains which tore into his flesh, blood dripping down his arms. He had to get out of here and find her.
A whisper of movement jerked his attention toward the door which swung inwards on well-oiled hinges.
A man stepped through. He slithered toward Neo.
He was as tall as Neo. His shoulders were broad. His black T-shirt clung to his powerful chest. His pants were some kind of rubbery material that hugged massive legs. His arms were thick, his biceps flexing with each step he took. He was so thickly muscled he had to hold his arms away from his sides to balance out the rest of his body.
Dark eyes that resembled thick pools of greasy black surveyed him, and he had high cheekbones and a square jaw, all of it topped off with ears that tapered up into pointed edges.
“Igor.” He growled, every cell in his body tensed.
It seemed wrong to even acknowledge the presence of such evil.
This man had killed his adoptive parents, had almost throttled his dragon. Now he was after his mate. Anger ripped through Neo. Red descended in front of his eyes. His shoulders flexed, he leaped forward, covering the floor halfway to the Fae. The chain tightened around his arms and wrenched him back. Pain ripped through him. His shoulders screamed in protest. His leg muscles bunched.
He fell into himself and drew upon the energy of his dragon. The indigo swirls leaped forward. The power of his beast roared through him and slammed into a psychic barrier. His dragon screamed. White sparks of pain ripped through his brain. His body shuddered.
The energy of his beast retreated and writhed against the psychic leash placed around it. His scars throbbed, the way they always seemed to do when there was danger around him.
Sweat poured down his chest. Pain throbbed down his back, his side.
The Fae swaggered to a stop less than a foot away. “Dragon shifter.” His voice rumbled over Neo’s skin. “We meet again.”
“Where is she?” Dios, he shouldn’t have asked about her.
Doing so would only show Igor just how much he cared for her. It would only give him an opening into exploiting Neo’s weaknesses. He had to stay calm. Had to think things through. It was the only way to outwit an enemy more ancient and much smarter than him. He ground his feet into the floor.
Igor’s eyes widened. “She’s safe.” One side of Igor’s lips twisted. “Which is more than I can say about you.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. The Fae’s ears twitched, and his eyes gleamed.
The fine hair on Neo’s forearms rose. “What do you want?”
“For you to admit you’ve never forgotten me. After all, you are the most illustrious of all my creations.”
The greasy murkiness of Igor’s psychic presence bled over into the physical world. This merging of the physical and psychic should have been impossible, yet Igor split his presence between the two planes with almost no effort. It was a testament to Igor’s growing powers. What else was he capable of?
Terror skittered down Neo’s spine. He wiped all expression from his face—it would do no good to show how afraid he was for Trinity just then.
“You wea
r my scars, Neo. Can I see the rest of you?” Igor leaned closer. “Can I see the evidence of how I marked you?” He placed his nose close to Neo’s neck and inhaled.
The scent of rancid oil and dried blood clawed at Neo’s gut. Bile rushed to his throat, and he swallowed it down.
His dragon growled a warning; the Fae was trying to keep him off-balance.
He needed to play Igor at his own game, to not react to how everything in him wanted to fight him and turn him away.
“May I?” Igor exhaled, and the darkness on the psychic plane seemed to deepen. He held up his forefinger. His nail slid out, silver and gleaming.
Neo’s shoulders shook.
He remembered those nails piercing his skin, opening it and letting the blood pour out. It had forced his beast to emerge before hellfire had burned it again. The wounds had healed fast thanks to his shifter healing, leaving a scar on his skin. Then Igor had started the process over again.
Igor trailed his nail down Neo’s chest. The scent of copper seeped into the air. Blood trickled down his skin.
Echoes of the pain he’d endured as a boy stuttered through his mind. His shoulders knotted.
Neo’s stomach heaved. He squared his shoulders. He wasn’t that frightened boy anymore, he was a man, a soldier who’d been trained by the Bureau. Igor couldn’t take all that away from him. “You scarred my body, but you’ll never touch my spirit.” Neo growled.
“Is that a dare?” One side of Igor’s lips stretched in a smile. “Or do you want to challenge me into touching you, to feel your soul, and try and break you? Perhaps you’ve forgotten the lessons I taught you as a boy, hmm?” Igor angled his head. “I do believe I need to refresh your memory.”
Neo resisted the urge to shrink away from the other man.
There was something very twisted about the Fae male. His dragon growled.
Igor’s gaze dropped to Neo’s chest. His lips parted, and a flush rose to his cheeks. The Fae took a step forward as if unable to stop himself.
Neo would have sworn the Fae was turned on. But that was crazy. Fae didn’t drink blood, did they? Perhaps things had changed. Given how much Igor’s powers had transformed, maybe that was something he indulged in now. If that was what it took to keep Igor occupied and away from Trinity, he’d put up with it.
He set his jaw and tugged against the chain that restrained his hands.
“How long do you plan on keeping me here?” He kept his voice as even as possible, tried to keep all expression from his face.
Igor’s only response was to lower his head. His tongue flicked out to trace the scars on Neo’s chest.
The scent of dry frost deepened.
Disgust swarmed over Neo’s skin.
The damn Fae really was turned on. And this monster wanted Trinity for a mate.
His dragon snarled. He would kill this man; kill himself before he let Igor anywhere near Trinity.
Igor trailed his fingers over the scars that marked Neo’s chest.
Neo’s stomach knotted.
Igor’s touch crawled through his skin, and his guts lurched. He couldn’t take much more of it.
“Hey!” Neo yanked on the chain with enough force to pull it from its moorings and let the plaster and dust rain over him. It also released more blood that ran down his arms. “Where are we?”
Igor raised his gaze and looked at Neo through hooded eyes. A breath whistled out of him. “You ask the same tiresome questions as humans.”
“Are we in Moscow?” He could tell he’d guessed correctly when Igor’s eyes widened.
Igor raised his hand. “This is the city where I first saw my intended mate.” He bared his teeth. His gaze narrowed.
At the sound of him calling Trinity his mate, Neo’s pulse hammered, adrenaline laced his blood, and his animal went slightly crazy, ramming against his skin, digging its claws in. Dragon smoke seeped into the air. His vision narrowed, and a growl rumbled up.
“There you are.” Igor leaned in close, placed his nose close to Neo’s neck, and inhaled.
The muscles of Neo’s thighs locked. His back strained. He forced himself not to move but couldn’t stop himself from turning his neck away from the other male.
Igor pouted. “Don’t be afraid of a little pain. Be a good playmate; perhaps you’ll even last the night.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Neo growled.
“Oh, I intend to fuck you first, my dear.” Igor’s tone lowered to a husky timbre. He ran a finger down Neo’s chest, scooping up more blood, then, bringing the finger to his lips, he sucked.
Neo’s spine stiffened. A shudder of disgust, fear, and irrational panic hardened his chest. “Your threats don’t bother me.”
“But they should.” Igor leaned back on his heels. “You see, for the time you keep me occupied, you also keep me away from the unicorn shifter. You’ll do what it takes to keep her safe.”
24
Trinity
The sound of his heart beat was a very low-key hum. But she could hear it. It meant he was alive. Hope bubbled inside her. It permeated her consciousness, little waves of sunlight seeping into her mind, pulling at her, asking her to step out of the vision she was caught in, but she didn’t want to.
Part of her knew she was dreaming.
She was back in the hills outside Moscow. The sun-rays filtered through the tall pine trees that surrounded their home. She hummed under her breath as she gathered the vegetables for the Sunday meal. Her mother was going to cook her favorite stew.
Her parents had never agreed with her grandmother’s promise to hand Trinity over to Igor in exchange for sparing the lives of the rest of the clan.
When Trinity turned thirteen, they’d left with her. For the last ten years, the three of them had been on the run.
Her parents had told Trinity never to change to her unicorn form. Revealing herself on the psychic plane would attract Igor’s attention as surely as sending up a flare.
They’d managed to avoid the Lord of the Dark Fae so far.
On that day, it had felt like nothing could go wrong. The air was fragrant with the scent of crushed leaves. The sunshine lit everything with a golden glow. The brightness in the skies called to her. Trinity had felt the pull of the light. She so wanted to shift and merge with it. After one last wistful glance at the blue skies, she made her way home with the basket of vegetables. She was almost at the door when the darkness of the presence swooped out to meet her.
Her mother screamed, then came a gurgle as her mother’s voice was cut off.
Her hands went cold. She froze. All the hair on her forearms rose.
There was a thump as something hit the wall of the house with so much force that the house itself seemed to shake with the force of impact. Then a drip, drip, drip.
Terror skittered down her spine. Her arms shook. The basket fell, and the vegetables rolled on the floor.
A flood of darkness hit her chest.
Igor had found her.
Then another scream—her father. No! She sprang toward the entrance of the house when… “Run, Trinity,” her father shrieked from inside.
The sounds of a scuffle reached her. The darkness that swirled toward her deepened.
She hesitated. She couldn’t leave her father. She couldn’t lose him, too.
“You must not allow the Fae to catch you.” Her father’s voice stopped her. “You are the only one of your kind. Don’t let Igor find you at any cost.”
The fierceness in his voice pushed aside all other emotions. The scent of dried frost swooped toward her.
She turned and ran. Away from the house, back through the woods, down the hill, and into Moscow city.
That’s when her heartbeat had started to race. The thunking of her heart had pulled her, and she’d followed its steer. She’d reached the outskirts of Moscow and stowed away on a train. It had taken her a month, but she’d hitchhiked her way across the continent, all the way until she’d reached Bombay.
What she hadn’t expected was
for Igor to follow her, or that he’d be working so closely with Tibor. She’d led Igor to him, had gotten the dragons and the Council involved. She’d put him in danger.
Her heartbeat sped up. Her eyes flew open, and she was back in reality. Her throat was dry, and her tongue felt like it was swollen. Her lungs were on fire, and she coughed.
The sound echoed around the empty space. She was in a small room. Her back was against a smooth surface, and her hands were pulled back and tied. It seemed like she’d been secured to a pillar in the center of the room. At least her legs were free. She shuffled her feet and tried to find a more comfortable position.
A single beam of sunlight poured through the lone window high up in the room. She turned her face toward it. Reaching for the brightness, she drew strength from it.
Her heart hammered against her rib cage. It was racing so fast. It was as if he was trying to warn her. She gasped. It was him, she knew it. Was he connected to her on the psychic plane?
But that wasn’t possible, was it? Unless… She remembered the burst of color just before they’d teleported when she’d reached for him, when his indigo merged with her white light.
A flush of adrenaline tingled through her body. There was a fledgling bond between them. There was no other explanation.
She wanted to deny it, yet that feeling of rightness, that this was how it was meant to be, sank into her.
Before she could even contemplate what that meant, a door was flung open. The outline of a man was silhouetted against the light that poured in.
He walked up to her. He had a sword strapped to his back. She still couldn’t make out his features.
He raised his hand and brought it down on her face.
Her neck snapped back. The back of her head banged into the hard surface behind her with the force of the slap. She winced. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Her lower lip throbbed from where it had split open.
The scent of bitter almonds told her it was Tibor.
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