She halted in a pool of moonlight, her beauty so perfect that Laylah would have thrown herself off the cliff if she was stupid enough to consider the numerous ways she failed in comparison.
With a lift of her hand, Eirinn spoke a few words in a foreign tongue. As one the warriors lowered their crossbows. Not that Laylah was reassured.
One wrong twitch and she was fairly certain she would be pinned to the nearest tree with an arrow through her heart.
Tane seemed to come to the same conclusion, and with his typical arrogance shifted until he was standing directly in front of her.
“Is the Welcoming Committee specifically for me or do you share the love with all vampires?” he mocked.
“These are dangerous times,” the Queen said.
“That they are,” Tane agreed, glaring at Laylah as she firmly stepped to his side.
Did he really think she would cower behind him?
Watching them with a narrowed gaze, Eirinn abruptly chuckled, moving forward to link her arm with Laylah’s.
“Come with me, Laylah. Your vampire is distracting my warriors,” she purred, tugging Laylah past her guards with just enough force to warn she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. A faint smile curved her lips. “Unless you’re willing to share?”
Share?
Not even when hell froze over.
“Forget it.”
“A pity.” Eirinn’s perfect smile widened as Tane firmly pulled Laylah from her grip and he tucked a protective arm around her shoulders. “He is a fine specimen.”
“Did you hear, my sweet?” He leaned to speak directly into Laylah’s ear. “I’m a fine specimen.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away from his possessive hold.
Only because it wasn’t worth the struggle, and not because she wanted the damned Queen of Sprites to know the vampire was off limits.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she sniffed. “Sprites have a notorious appetite for sex.”
She could have kicked herself as he flashed a smug smile.
“Yes, I know,” he said. “Intimately.”
“My point is they would think a drunken cur with the mange a fine specimen.” In the distance the sound of Levet’s laughter filled the air. It was Laylah’s turn to smile. “Or a diminutive gargoyle.”
His lips brushed the curve of her ear. “You, thankfully, have an insatiable appetite for only one male. An appetite I’m more than happy to sate.”
She narrowed her gaze. “And your appetite?”
“Starving for a taste of a Jinn half-breed. The sooner the better.” The force of his desire blasted through her, making them both shudder. His eyes flared with frustrated heat. “Damn.”
They fell silent, both shaken by the brutal need that flared so abruptly between them. It didn’t feel like the natural response of two individuals who were attracted to one another. It felt like …
Destiny.
She shook off the dangerous thought as Eirinn led them between two ancient trees.
Laylah grimaced as they passed through an invisible barrier. It felt like spiders crawling over her skin.
“The glade is my sanctuary and guarded by my personal magic,” the Queen murmured. “We can speak in privacy here.”
Once past the spell of protection, Laylah paused to appreciate the small glade.
It wasn’t the cartoon version of a fey meadow with unicorns and rainbows, but there was a tiny stream that cut through the lush grass and clumps of wild flowers that added splashes of color.
At her side Tane folded his arms over his chest, clearly indifferent to their charming surroundings.
“Who is threatening you?”
“Ah, vampires.” Eirinn slid an appreciative glance over Tane’s body, blithely unaware how close she was to Laylah beating her senseless with her own crown. “Always so deliciously sexy and yet so lacking in manners.”
Tane remained grimly indifferent to the open invitation in the woman’s voice.
“We don’t have the time for proper etiquette.”
“I suppose that’s true.” The Queen tossed Laylah a taunting glance. “And I doubt Laylah would agree to a formal ceremony of greeting. She is astonishingly prudish for a Jinn.”
“She is perfect,” Tane snapped before Laylah could respond.
“So I see.” The Queen chuckled. “And yours?”
“Yes.”
Laylah flashed him a disgruntled frown. She didn’t have a clue what was going on between her and Tane, but she was absolutely certain she didn’t want it discussed with Eirinn the Queen of Tramps. “Do you mind?”
His gaze slid with slow deliberation down her body. “Not at all.”
Eirinn’s eyes sparkled. “If you would prefer privacy…”
Yes, yes, please yes.
“No,” Laylah forced herself to snap.
“Very wise, my dear. Never allow a vampire to believe he has you completely enthralled. They’re so tediously full of themselves.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Laylah muttered.
“Enough.” Tane stepped forward. “Tell me why your warriors are armed and twitchy as hell.”
The Queen’s amusement fled as she reached beneath the neckline of her robe to pull out a crystal that was hung on a golden chain around her neck.
“Because of this.”
Laylah frowned at the oval stone that glowed with a soft, bluish light. “A glowing rock?” “A Ciomach,” the sprite said.
“A what?”
“It’s like an early warning system,” Tane clarified. “Convenient.” Laylah watched as the stone pulsed with the strange blue glow. “What does it warn against?” “Ancient enemies.” Well that was nice and vague. “Can you be more specific?” “The Sylvermyst.” She felt Tane jerk in surprise. “Shit,” he muttered.
Laylah’s heart sank. Her spotty education didn’t include much about the Sylvermyst. Nothing beyond the fact that they were related to the fey and were as notorious for their irresistible beauty as they were for their cruelty.
And of course, the most pertinent fact, that they were supposed to be long gone from the world.
Now she sensed she was about to find out more than she ever wanted.
“Tane, what’s going on?” she demanded.
“When we first arrived in London Uriel mentioned that Victor was meeting with the Prince of Fairies in Dublin.” He shook his head in disgust. “I assumed the Prince had been eating too many funny mushrooms.”
“There is nothing amusing about the Sylvermyst,” Eirinn said, dropping her image of frivolous flirtation to reveal the powerful leader beneath.
“No,” Tane readily agreed.
Laylah frowned in confusion. “I thought they were banished?”
Tane grimaced. “A lot of unpleasant nasties are crawling out of the shadows these days.”
The Queen shivered, clutching the stone around her neck. “Yes, the wind whispers of evil.”
“When did your Ciomach start with its Christmas tree routine?” Tane asked.
“Early this evening.”
Tane cursed and pulled his large dagger from its sheath.
Laylah instinctively glanced toward the nearby trees.
“Tane?”
“It can’t be a coincidence,” he said.
“What can’t?”
“The Sylvermyst first appearing in England and now here.”
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Like her schizoid aunt and Sergei weren’t bad enough? “You think they followed us?” His eyes glowed with a deadly intent. “Or they were led.” Laylah swallowed a sigh. Had she actually spent years wishing she had a family? “Marika, I assume?”
“A possibility.” He clutched the dagger as if wishing there was someone around he could stick it into. “One of too god damn many. We need to get moving.”
“But it’s almost sunrise. It would be safer to remain here until …”
“No, Laylah,” Eirinn interrupted. “My debt i
s paid and I won’t risk my people to defend you against the death that stalks you. You will collect the child and leave.”
Laylah didn’t argue. She didn’t want anyone put in danger because of her. But even as she turned to make her way out of the glade, Tane was at her side.
“Too late,” he whispered.
She paused, concentrating on her surroundings.
The magical barrier muted the outside world, but suddenly she was aware of the distant sounds of shouts and an unfamiliar smell of tangy herbs that blended with the fruity scent of fey.
Sylvermyst.
It had to be.
She didn’t hesitate.
Charging toward the barrier, her only thought was to get to the child as swiftly as possible.
Several miles away, Caine cursed and yanked his Jeep to a halt next to the abandoned gas station that was the only building for miles.
Dammit. He should never have left the top off. Of course, he hadn’t expected his companion to leap from a vehicle traveling sixty miles an hour.
It wasn’t the sort of thing most people did.
Clearly he needed to turn off his sane dial.
Throwing the damned thing into park, he vaulted over the door and headed toward the back of the parking lot. He cursed as he stubbed his toe on a rusting crow bar and nearly landed on his face. He was still trying to become accustomed to his newfound strength and speed.
Which was a nice way of saying he was as clumsy as hell.
“Cassie, wait.”
She stood at the edge of the crumbling pavement, staring across the empty fields.
Despite her heavy sweatshirt and jeans, Cassie shivered. “I sense them.”
He sniffed the air, picking up the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Not fey … but close.
“What the hell are they?”
“They are from … distant lands.”
He growled, the wolf inside him snapping at the savage need to toss Cassie over his shoulder and haul her far away from the danger.
It didn’t matter that she’d been a pureblood Were a hell of a lot longer than he had. Or that the danger was too far away to pose an immediate threat.
“I’m going out on a limb and guess that you don’t mean illegal aliens,” he said dryly.
The pale green eyes shifted in his direction. “Why are aliens illegal?”
“Never mind.” When would he learn? He gave a shake of his head, considering the distant sense of violence that stained the air. “It seems we need a detour. How do you feel about Mexico?”
He didn’t expect her to agree. She was OCD when it came to her visions.
Not even death would stop her from her self-imposed task.
“No, we must wait,” she abruptly announced.
“Here?” “Yes.”
“Wait for what?”
Her eyes flared white and with a wave of her hand a glowing symbol hovered in the air.
“This.”
“Dammit, would you stop doing that?” he growled. Her eyes returned to their astonishing shade of green, a serene smile curving her lips. “Did you bring dinner?”
Chapter 16
Cursing, Tane was in swift pursuit of Laylah, managing to catch her arm as she headed deeper into the trees.
“Laylah, stop,” he commanded.
She jerked her arm free, her expression one of pure panic. “The baby.”
“No.”
“Wait here. It will only take a minute.”
With a swift motion she darted beneath a low hanging branch and disappeared through a large bush.
“Damn,” Tane clenched his hands, helpless against the compulsion that forced him to remain where he was.
Given enough incentive he might be capable of breaking the urge to give in to Laylah’s request, but he couldn’t ignore the warning given by Siljar.
Like it or not, Laylah was a principium and if he tried to screw with fate the Oracles would have him hanging by his balls and Laylah would be left on her own.
Or worse than alone, he silently corrected as the ridiculous gargoyle crashed through the underbrush, his wings flapping and his eyes wide as he was chased by two tall pursuers.
“By my father’s stone balls,” the tiny demon gasped, “who invited the Sylvermyst to the party?”
Tane shifted into a fighter’s stance, the dagger held loosely in his hand as he watched the warriors approach.
They looked like fey.
Tall and lithe with long hair in varying shades of red and gold. All of them were dressed in jeans and T-shirts, no doubt hoping to avoid unwanted attention from the humans.
A wasted effort.
Generic jeans and T-shirts didn’t disguise the liquid grace of their movements or the perfection of their faces that could never belong to a mere mortal.
Oh, and of course there were the enormous crossbows that were currently pointed in his direction.
Dead giveaway.
A swift count revealed four Sylvermyst approaching from the east and two more from the south.
Too many to defeat without risking a wooden arrow through the heart.
“Make yourself useful, gargoyle,” he commanded.
Levet sniffed, but thankfully he lifted his hands and pointed them toward the advancing Sylvermyst.
“Watch in wonder, vampire.”
There was a sputter of sparkles that shimmered in the air before they fell harmlessly to the ground. Just his luck.
The gargoyle was shooting blanks.
Accustomed to fighting impossible odds without backup, Tane charged toward the two nearest attackers, taking an arrow in his shoulder and another in his upper chest before he was near enough to grab the first Sylvermyst and rip open his throat.
The potent taste of fairy blood slid down his throat. Not the sparkling sweetness of most fey, but a dark explosion of power that burned a path to his gut.
Sucking the bastard dry, he stuck a dagger into the fey’s heart and gave it a twist before tossing him to the ground and reaching for his partner.
The second fey had already dropped his crossbow and reached for the sword strapped to his back.
Tane ducked as the blade swiped a mere inch above his head. Wisely he kept low as he took out the warrior’s legs and drove him hard into the ground.
The Sylvermyst spoke in a language that grated harshly on Tane’s ears, but even as the words formed Tane was slicing his throat.
He wasn’t in the mood to be hexed or cursed or hit with any other nasty spell.
Once assured there weren’t going to be any surprises, Tane kicked the sword out of the fey’s hand and efficiently cut out his heart.
The eyes, a strange, metallic shade of copper, widened in shock. As if he hadn’t expected to be killed by an enraged vampire.
Fool.
With the two nearest warriors dispatched, Tane grabbed the Sylvermyst’s sword and straightened. If the magic filling the air wasn’t screwing with his senses there were plenty more where those came from.
He was kicking aside the nearest corpse to make sure it didn’t impede his movements when the explosion rocked the ground from beneath his feet.
He flowed upright, his startled gaze sweeping his surroundings.
The trees in front of him were flattened, the massive trunks still smoking, and the dirt that filled the air settling on top of them.
More impressive, the four fey who had been approaching were now scattered across the ground in a dozen different pieces.
“Holy mother …” he breathed, tugging out the arrows stuck in his flesh. Levet’s wings flapped in embarrassment. “Oops.”
Oops?
The gargoyle had released the equivalent of a minor nuclear bomb and all he said was “oops"?
“I said make yourself useful, not cataclysmic,” he snapped, terrified by the knowledge that Laylah was somewhere in the trees and that she could easily have been harmed.
“Hey, I do not critique your battle techniques,” the tiny gargoyle protested.
He grimaced at the protective ward that surrounded the baby. Despite being transparent it visibly shifted, distorting and obscuring the image of the child. He doubted even Laylah had ever had a clear view of what she was carrying around.
Not that she seemed to give a damn.
His heart clenched with an odd ache as her expression softened and she cradled the baby against her with maternal care.
Her short, crimson hair was mussed. Her jeans and T-shirt were marred with grass stains. And there was a streak of dirt on her cheek.
And she’d never looked more content.
Unaware of his fascination, she lifted her head, the tender expression hardened as she glanced toward the charred trees decorated with bits and pieces of Sylvermysts.
“Gods.” She shuddered. “Where did they come from?”
Levet waddled toward her, his gaze taking a cautious inventory of the child in her arms.
He wasn’t as stupid as he looked.
Tane couldn’t sense the stasis spell that bound the baby, but he was wise enough to give it a wide berth.
“I don’t know where they came from,” the gargoyle said, “but I know who they’re traveling with.”
“Marika?” she asked.
“And the mage,” Levet confirmed Tane’s suspicions. “I am going to turn him into a pile of fairy dung.”
She shook her head. “No, we have to get out of here.”
Tane moved to grasp her arm, tugging her away from the carnage.
“Levet, keep watch,” he ordered, his narrowed glance warning he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.
Perhaps sensing Tane’s hidden motive, the gargoyle gave a ready nod.
“Oui.”
He maneuvered Laylah behind a large oak before she dug in her heels and narrowed her gaze. The gargoyle wasn’t the only one to guess his motive. “Don’t even think about it.”
He held her furious gaze. “Laylah, you must shadow walk.”
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