Devoured By Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  His hand pressed her fingers against the tattoo, his beautiful features impossible to read.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “If the Oracles knew of my existence then why did they hurt you?”

  In answer he lifted her hand, brushing her palm with his lips before stepping back with an expression that warned he didn’t intend to reveal what had happened between him and the Oracle.

  Stubborn, infuriating vampire.

  “Where were you going, Laylah?”

  She sniffed. Fine. He didn’t want her to feel bad he was tortured because of her, then she wouldn’t.

  “I was trying to escape.” She shrugged. “I didn’t have the time or inclination to make out a full itinerary.”

  “Don’t try it.” His lips twisted. “For better or worse you’ve bound us together. Lying is a waste of breath.”

  Bound them together? Ha. He’d just acted like she had some control over him to lure her into a false sense of security.

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “Yes, you do.” Holding her gaze, his hand skimmed down her cheek before circling her upper arm in a possessive grasp. “You’re just not ready to admit it.”

  She snorted. “Arrogant.”

  He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You’re going to the child, aren’t you, my sweet?”

  “No one invited you along, vampire,” Levet muttered.

  The golden gaze never shifted from her face. “Your assistance is no longer required, gargoyle.”

  The shocking desire to close the small distance and press her lips to his had Laylah stepping backward.

  Gods. He was making her crazy.

  “I will decide whose assistance I want,” she snapped. “Levet is coming with me.”

  “Merci, ma petite.” Levet’s wings fluttered as he flashed Tane a smug smile. “There are some who lack the taste to appreciate my exquisite charm.”

  Tane’s eyes narrowed. “I also lack the taste to appreciate chewing on glass, being skinned alive, and reruns of the Rosanne Barr show. Call me crazy.”

  Laylah heaved a resigned sigh.

  Obviously there was no getting rid of the damned vamp.

  Why not give into the inevitable and take advantage of his presence?

  He was, after all, a powerful warrior who could protect her from most demons.

  Even her crazy-ass aunt.

  “Can we just go?” she demanded.

  Smart enough not to press for a precise destination, Tane glanced toward a nearby farmhouse.

  “We’ll need transportation.” He headed toward the surrounding field. “This way.”

  They moved in silence, bypassing the barn painted a bright red with a tin roof, and the attached corral that held the pungent odor of pigs.

  Laylah was swift to grab Levet’s wing, ignoring his squeal of protest. A gargoyle was like a teenage boy … always hungry and willing to eat whatever crossed his path. Even if it was still rutting in the mud.

  She maintained her grip as they passed the henhouse and dog kennel, not releasing him until they entered a long shed that housed the tractors, combines, bulldozer, and shiny new Ford Expedition.

  Tane yanked open the driver’s door, but before Laylah could protest his typical male assumption that he would be driving, he laid his hand on the steering column. Instantly the engine fired to life. Laylah lifted her brows. Nice trick.

  “Shotgun,” Levet called, scrambling into the passenger’s seat.

  His butt never hit the leather seat as Tane grabbed him by the horn and tossed him in the back. “Don’t even think about it.”

  There was a flurry of French curses and Laylah was forced to hide her smile as she climbed into the seat Levet had nearly claimed and shut the door. The tiny gargoyle could always be counted on to lighten the mood.

  Not nearly so amused, Tane gunned the engine and pulled out of the garage at a speed that made Laylah happy she had the blood of an immortal running through her veins. He slowed as they reached the road.

  “Which way?”

  She hesitated. For years she’d sacrificed everything to keep the child hidden. It wasn’t easy to risk revealing his location to anyone.

  “South,” she at last forced herself to say, instinctively tugging on the seat belt as Tane stomped on the gas.

  Laylah clenched her teeth to keep them from banging together as they hurtled down the rough road. The three of them off to save the world.

  Or at least one helpless baby.

  Not quite the Justice League, she wryly accepted. A brooding vampire, a stunted gargoyle, and a Jinn mongrel with trust issues.

  Still, they had to be better than nothing.

  Casting covert glances at Tane’s elegant profile that was caught in the glow of the dashboard, Laylah was relieved when Levet suddenly stuck his head between the seats.

  She didn’t want time to consider whether or not she’d just made the greatest mistake of her life.

  “You know, Laylah, if you intend to keep the child then you should really consider giving it a name,” the gargoyle gently chastised her.

  Tane flashed Levet an annoyed glare. “What does it matter?”

  Levet sniffed. “Because a mother who cares about her child gives him a name.”

  If Laylah hadn’t been looking directly at the gargoyle she would have missed the pain that flared through the gray eyes.

  Her heart wrenched.

  Oh, dear God. Levet was intimately familiar with a mother who didn’t bother to name him. Perhaps she had even abandoned him.

  Demons could be even more brutal than humans when it came to dealing with deformities.

  “Yes,” she breathed, reaching to run a comforting hand down his wing. “You’re right.”

  A wistful smile touched his ugly face. “Then why have you hesitated?”

  “Because I’ve always known there was the possibility that the child belonged to someone else. And that one day they would come for him,” she tried to explain. “It wouldn’t be fair if I had already named him.”

  “And less painful for you to give him away?” Levet asked softly.

  She grimaced, knowing she must sound like an idiot. “That was the thought.” “And now?” Levet prompted.

  “Now I’ll kill anyone who tries to take him from me.” Tane sent her a knowing smile. “Spoken like a true mother.”

  Marika prowled along the wrought iron fence that framed the elegant estate.

  Out of necessity she’d swapped her Valentino gown for black silk pants and matching top that snuggly outlined her perfect figure and allowed her to blend into the shadows. She’d also tugged her hair into a simple knot at her nape to keep it from being caught on the nasty trees and bushes that cluttered the godforsaken country.

  Her lips pinched.

  At least Sergei had managed to cast a Spell of Finding on Laylah before Victor and his henchmen had forced her from her lair. The interfering bastards. It meant that it was only a matter of time before she had her hands on her niece and they could return to civilization.

  And in the meantime she intended to keep a very detailed tally on every indignity she was forced to suffer. She was going to take payment out of Laylah’s flesh.

  Tapping a manicured nail against her chin, she considered the distant house, her impatience to track down her niece briefly overshadowed by the waves of power that filled the air.

  “You are certain she is no longer inside?” she demanded.

  Sergei nodded. Like her, he had changed from his designer clothing into a pair of casual chinos and a loose black silk shirt. His hair was pulled into a tail at his nape.

  “I can sense her heading south.”

  “Is she alone?”

  “It’s impossible to say.” The mage sent her a warning frown. “The spell I cast on her is fading. We should hurry before I lose all connection to her.” He muttered a curse as Marika stepped toward the fence, her head tilted back as she tested the air. “What are you doing?”

>   “Do you know what this place is?”

  Sergei shrugged. “A vampire’s lair.”

  “Much more than that.” A humorless smile curved her lips. “My niece moves in elevated company.”

  The mage shifted uneasily, sensing something was wrong but unable to detect the power that choked the air.

  “A clan chief?”

  “The King of all Vampires.”

  “The Anasso?” Stark disbelief was laced through Sergei’s voice. “I thought he was a myth.”

  “You are welcome to ring the doorbell and discover the truth for yourself.”

  “No, thank you.” There was a tense pause before the mage moved to stand at her side, his expression suspicious. “You are remarkably indifferent to the fact that the Anasso is now aware that you defied demon law to create a Jinn half-breed for the sole purpose of returning the Dark Lord to this world and crowning yourself queen.”

  Marika waved aside his words. Why should she care that her plans had been revealed to the Anasso? There was no point in being superior to those who claimed positions of power if no one appreciated her brilliance.

  “It was bound to be revealed eventually.”

  The pale blue eyes glittered with annoyance. “Not until we had the Jinn and babe in our possession. A task that now will be considerably more difficult if we are being hunted by your brethren.”

  “I do not fear the fools,” she said, scorn dripping from her words. “But there is something else.”

  “Something worse than the Anasso?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lovely.” The mage reached to grasp the crystal hung about his neck. Marika sneered at the instinctive reaction. His human magic would be worthless against the demon inside the mansion. “What is it?”

  “An Oracle.”

  Sergei backed away from the fence with a string of Russian curses.

  “Then this is the end.” He halted at the edge of the tree line, perhaps stupid enough to believe the shadows could hide him from the danger. “If the Commission knows of the female then they’ll kill her.”

  Marika turned, taking a malicious pleasure in her companion’s fear.

  “That would have been my assumption and yet you claim Laylah escaped.”

  He scowled. “She did, unless they have managed to lay a false trail.”

  It was the same thought that had crossed her mind.

  Rumor was that Styx wasn’t the Anasso simply because he was the strongest vampire. He was just as infamous for his cunning.

  “A trail leading to a trap,” she murmured. “It is something to be considered.”

  “Something to be considered?” Sergei shook his head in incredulity. “Nyet. The only thing to be considered is the fastest means to return to London.”

  “We are not leaving without Laylah and the child.”

  “You might consider the glorious return of the Dark Lord worthy of a few thousand years of torture in the hands of the Commission, but I do not.”

  Marika flowed forward, grabbing him by the hair and bending him backward.

  She could forgive his treachery.

  But never his cowardice.

  “I have not come this far to have your lack of guts ruin this for me.”

  His eyes bulged in pain. “Marika.”

  She leaned close to whisper directly in his ear. “If you have no use for your spine I can snap it in two.”

  “No …” he panted. “Please. You have made your point. Release me.”

  Marika pursed her lips.

  The desire to break Sergei in half was nearly overwhelming.

  She had sated her hunger for blood before leaving London, but it had been too long since she’d indulged her lust for pain.

  For a moment she reveled in his pulsing agony, then recalling she needed the cretin to track Laylah, she loosened her grip. He fell heavily to the ground. With a smile, she bent over his sprawled body.

  “Don’t test my patience again, Sergei.” The words were a deadly whisper. “You won’t like the consequences.”

  “I am, as always, your humble servant,” he choked out, waiting until she stepped back before he cautiously rose to his feet. “What do you desire of me?”

  She turned back toward the mansion, dismissing her brief distraction. Instead she coldly calculated their options.

  “There’s no means to discover why the Oracle allowed Laylah to escape,” she finally decided. “We have no choice but to follow the trail.”

  “Even if it leads us into a trap?”

  “I am not so easily caught.” Marika waved a distant hand toward the woods where her tiny army was hidden. “And I do have my new allies.”

  Sergei shuddered. He wasn’t nearly so fond of her servants.

  “Do not remind me.”

  “They have proved quite useful,” she reminded the mage. “We could never have followed Laylah so swiftly without their skill with portals. And they are exquisitely beautiful.” Without warning she was hit by a wave of dizziness, the image of her sister dancing before her eyes. “Damn.”

  Sergei stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “Kata.” She furiously pressed a hand to her forehead. Why would the bitch not leave her in peace? “She is … troubled.”

  “Is she awakening?”

  Reluctantly, Marika forced herself to concentrate on her bond with Kata. She could sense a strange fluttering, as if her sister was being disturbed by an outside force, but the fog of unconsciousness was intact.

  “No.” She tried to shake off the tug of awareness. “You are certain no one can find her?”

  “Even if they could locate her there is no way that they could penetrate the layers of protection I’ve set around the tomb.”

  Her icy power swirled through the air. “Pray you are right, mage.”

  Chapter 15

  They arrived at the hidden copse of trees south of Hannibal only a few hours after they left the outskirts of Chicago.

  The benefit of Tane’s indifference to the laws of traffic. And occasionally those of physics.

  Climbing out of the vehicle, Laylah breathed a sigh of relief. Jeez. Those people who mocked women drivers had never ridden with a vampire in a hurry.

  Talk about a freaking death wish.

  Steadying her weak knees, she headed toward the narrow path that led into the trees. Over the past hour she’d been plagued by a deepening sense of urgency to get her hands on the child.

  As if it was calling out to her.

  Nearly reaching the outer fringe of oak trees, Laylah was brought to an abrupt halt when Tane grabbed her upper arm.

  “Wood sprites?” he muttered, his tension filling the air with a frigid bite. “You trusted them with a child?”

  She didn’t blame him for his skepticism. Sprites were as unpredictable as they were beautiful.

  “They owe me.”

  He blinked in surprised. “A wish?”

  “No, I…” She instinctively cut off her words.

  He tugged her around to meet his searching gaze.

  “What?”

  She blew out a resigned sigh. There was no point in hiding anything now.

  Tane knew everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

  “The Queen was poisoned by a jealous rival,” she confessed. “I was able to save her life.”

  Something that might have been respect flared through the honey eyes.

  “You’re a healer?”

  Gods, was that a blush heating her cheeks?

  Next thing she knew she would be batting her lashes and simpering like an idiot.

  “I don’t perform miracles, but I can heal most injuries.”

  He brushed the back of his hand over that revealing blush. “A rare talent.”

  She cleared her throat, trying to sound brisk. “I’ve always assumed it came from my mother’s side of the family since Jinns are a lot happier destroying things than fixing them.”

  “Oui,” Levet chimed in, moving to her side. “Gypsies are c
oveted for their skills in healing.”

  Tane scowled at the gargoyle. “We have yet to determine if the vision Laylah was given in London was real.”

  Levet sniffed. “Do you think that I would not recognize a faux vision? Moi? The great connoisseur of magic? The …” He came to a sudden halt, a dreamy expression settling on his tiny face. “Mmmmm. Sprites.” With a burst of unexpected speed he was rushing into the trees. “Sorry, ma belle, I will join you later. Much later.”

  Laylah rolled her eyes.

  So much for the Justice League.

  Not that she needed his help …

  As if she’d deliberately jinxed herself, the thought had barely whispered through her mind when a dozen sprites stepped out of the shadows.

  Her breath snared in her throat, her gaze skimming over the combination of males and females that were attired in the traditional robes that took camo to a whole new level. Even looking at them straight on, the flowing fabric melded perfectly with their background, giving the queasy illusion that they were floating in and out of focus.

  She might have been amused if it weren’t for the deadly expressions on the beautiful faces. Oh, and the crossbows that were currently pointed at her heart.

  Her gaze never wavered from the line of sprites as Tane cautiously moved to her side. These weren’t the flighty, unpredictable fey that they readily revealed to the demon world. These creatures stood at confident attention with their long hair, that ranged in hues from pure gold to dark red, tightly braided so they could easily reach the swords strapped to their backs.

  Warriors.

  And prepared to attack.

  “I thought they were friends of yours?” Tane muttered.

  “Yeah, me too.” She squared her shoulders, meeting the steady gaze of the nearest sprite. “I have been granted safe passage by Eirinn.”

  The male sprite shifted his crossbow toward Tane. “The vampire doesn’t have such privileges.”

  Tane’s low growl filled the air, sending lesser demons fleeing in fear and causing even the hardened warriors to shudder.

  “You really don’t want to play this game.”

  “It’s no game, Charon.”

  The high, musical voice was the only warning before a tall, slender female stepped into view. Like her warriors, Eirinn, Queen of the Wood Sprites, was attired in a loose robe, although her dark golden hair was left free to cascade down her back and held back with a delicate crown set with an emerald the size of a quail’s egg.