Turning his head, he assessed his companion. “Are you hurt?”
Jaelyn shrugged, her gaze lowered to effectively hide her emotions.
“My pride has been brutalized and my manicure will never be the same, but otherwise I’m fine.”
Tane studied the female’s stark profile, sensing there was more than wounded pride churning beneath her don’t-press-the-issue attitude. Thankfully, it wasn’t his concern.
“How did you get here?” he instead asked.
She turned to meet his searching gaze. “I caught the trail of Ariyal as he followed the female vampire and mage to Chicago.”
Tane blinked in surprise. He’d have bet good money the bastard planned to double-cross the female vampire.
“He returned to Marika?”
“No, he was hiding in the woods when he overheard them discussing your Jinn’s journey to this frozen little slice of heaven.”
“Ah.” That made much more sense.
She grimaced. “I tried to stop him.”
“So I see.” Tane’s narrowed gaze roamed over the healing scrapes and bruises, his hands clenching in anticipation of carving punishment out of Ariyal’s fey hide. “Don’t worry, payback’s a bitch.”
“No,” Jaelyn fiercely refused his unspoken offer of a Sylvermyst smack down. “He …”
“What?”
She hunched her shoulder. “He could have killed me. Instead he brought me through the portal and left me here guarded by that spirit.”
“Guarded or held prisoner?”
“Both I suppose,” she muttered.
Was Jaelyn trying to excuse the son of a bitch? How long did it take for that whole Stockholm syndrome to kick in?
“If he kept you alive it was because he thought he could use you as a bargaining chip.” “Vampires don’t bargain.”
“Do you have a better explanation? “ he bluntly challenged.
She gave a very feminine sniff. “Off the top of my head I would guess he simply enjoys torturing me.” She instinctively reached for the gun she kept holstered on her hip, only to come up empty. Ariyal had obviously relieved her of her weapons. “Bastard.”
Tane shook his head. “He’s up to something.”
“Whatever it is, he’s desperate to get his hands on that baby.”
Tane’s fangs extended to their full limit and with a fluid speed he was out of the cave and running through the tunnels.
“Laylah.”
Chapter 22
I intend to kill him …
Laylah took a stumbled step backward, her heart frozen in her chest as she stared in disbelief at the Sylvermyst.
She expected to find hatred etched on that beautiful face. Or fury. Or fanaticism.
Instead there was nothing more than a calm determination that was more terrifying than any amount of ranting and raving.
“Are you demented?” she hissed, hugging Maluhia to her chest. “You can’t kill a helpless baby.”
His lips twisted. “I thought we had already established my evil credentials.”
“Why?”
He pointed the sword at the child in her arms. “It’s the spawn of the Dark Lord.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. It’s innocent.”
“What you believe doesn’t matter. So long as the child exists there will be those determined to use him to return the Master.” His expression hardened. “I can’t allow that.”
A cold prickle brushed the back of her neck, but Laylah didn’t dare glance around. One moment of distraction and the fey could have her head chopped off.
Not only would it make for a very bad day, but the child would be left at the mercy of this sword-wielding maniac.
“Why can’t you allow it?” She covertly stepped to the side, her back feeling excessively exposed to whatever was rushing at her from the tunnel behind her. She could hope that it was Tane, but her luck wasn’t that good. “Sylvermyst would surely rule at the Dark Lord’s side if he is resurrected?”
“Not those who chose slavery rather than follow him into exile.”
She had to admit he had a point.
The Dark Lord wasn’t a forgive and forget kind of deity. Actually he was more of a use-any-excuse-to-maim-and-torture sort of guy.
“You think you would be punished?” she asked.
“Punished?” The Sylvermyst’s laugh was edged with a painful bitterness. “The most we could hope for is utter destruction. The worst …” He shuddered in horror. “An eternity of endless torture.”
“Let’s find out, shall we, traitor?” a cold female voice drawled as Marika stepped into the room, accompanied by her frigid power and surprise, surprise … Sergei. Laylah’s personal, magical, pain in the ass.
“Gods, why won’t you stay dead,” Laylah muttered, instinctively pressing against the far wall of the narrow passage as Marika strolled past her.
The female looked shockingly healthy considering she’d just had half a mountain land on her head.
Her dark hair was a perfect river of black flowing down her back, her pale skin unmarred by injury. But even the powerful vampire couldn’t hide her ripped clothing or the dirt and blood that stained the fine silk.
She’d been gravely injured. Surely she couldn’t be at full strength?
The vampire halted near the wary Sylvermyst, her mocking gaze flicking over Laylah’s rigid body.
“You stupid child, my destiny has been written in the stars. I am not going to be thwarted by a common mongrel.” Her attention returned to Ariyal, no doubt aware that the fey posed the greatest danger at the moment. “Or for that matter, by a treacherous fey who could have ruled the world at my side.”
Ariyal held his sword at an angle, his feet spread wide as he prepared for an attack.
“I didn’t escape becoming a whore for one crazy bitch just so I could take a position with another.” His gaze briefly shot toward Sergei who was blocking the tunnel on one end while Marika deliberately halted to block the other end. “Besides, it’s going to be a little crowded at your side with me and the Dark Lord and the mage and who knows what other gullible male you’ve managed to screw into blind faith.”
Marika hissed, her elongated fangs proving just how lethal a woman scorned could truly be.
“You have sealed your fate, Ariyal.”
The fey twirled his sword, a smile of anticipation curving his lips.
“Let’s dance, vampire.”
“Sergei, cast the spell while I enjoy my dinner,” Marika commanded, advancing toward the fey with her hands curled into claws.
Laylah shuddered. She’d once seen a vampire rip through a brick building with nothing but his claws. It wasn’t a fate she would wish on anyone.
As if sensing her unexpected flare of sympathy, the fey sent her a fierce glare.
“Laylah, get the hell out of here,” he barked, swinging his massive sword as Marika attacked.
Laylah grit her teeth, turning toward the mage who was planted squarely in the middle of the tunnel.
“Do you really think I would still be here if that was an option?” she muttered.
Sergei smiled, stepping toward Laylah with his hands raised in a gesture of peace.
“You want to leave?” he asked. “Put the child down and walk away.”
Behind her, there was a ghastly sound of a blade slicing through flesh, then a grunt of pain followed by the snapping of broken bones. Laylah didn’t turn her head to watch the epic battle. What did it matter who won? They both intended very bad things for her and her baby.
Her best hope was that the two killed each other.
Besides, the approaching mage was her most pressing problem at the moment.
Everyone else would have to get in line.
“Right.” She tucked the baby beneath her cloak, as if that would keep him safe. “And I, of course, have every reason to trust you after you kidnapped me, held me captive, and tortured me on several occasions.”
Sergei shrugged. “It was business.”
<
br /> “Business is opening a Starbucks, not returning an evil god to destroy the world.”
“Not everyone will be destroyed.” His lips twisted with a self-derisive smile. “There are some who will rule.”
“You can’t be that stupid.”
“Obviously I can.” His gaze darted toward the fight behind her before returning to her, his face pale with … what? Resignation? Regret? “I’ve made my bed.”
She frowned. “Don’t do it, Sergei.” “I just told you, there’s no longer any choice.” “I’ll bring this entire mountain down on our heads,” she warned. “I will survive, but do you think you will be so lucky?”
He didn’t bother to flinch. Maybe he sensed she was barely strong enough to remain upright. Or maybe he was just beyond fear. In either case, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be stopped.
“Your mate already tried the death threat route. It didn’t work for him either.”
Her heart missed a beat. “Tane, is he …”
Before she could finish her sentence, Sergei muttered a series of harsh words and stabbed a hand in her direction. Laylah tried to turn to protect the child from the spell, too late realizing it was intended for her.
A scream was wrenched from her throat as she was slammed against the wall. Not from the pain. She was becoming accustomed to being hit, smashed, and tossed around like she was a rag doll. And what did that say about her life?
No, her scream was that of pure terror as the baby was ripped from her arms by unseen hands and left hovering in midair.
Frantically she struggled to free herself from the invisible bonds that kept her pressed to the side of the tunnel. Gods. This couldn’t be happening. She’d devoted so many years to keeping Maluhia hidden. How could fate be so cruel as to take him from her now?
Distantly she was aware that Tane was rushing in her direction, along with another vampire … Jaelyn? But, it didn’t matter.
He wasn’t going to arrive in time to stop Sergei.
Confirming her greatest fear, the mage stepped forward, briefly glancing toward Marika, almost as if hoping to discover she’d been overcome by the Sylvermyst.
His lips twisted as the bitch vampire ignored her numerous wounds and lifted the battered fey over her head to launch him down the tunnel, laughing as his body landed in an awkward heap.
No need to guess who was winning that particular battle.
As if the sight was enough to prompt him into action, Sergei waved his hand toward the baby still floating in the air. Laylah swore as the shield that protected Maluhia pulsed and shimmered.
Whatever he was doing it was obviously disturbing the stasis spell.
Terror blasted through her, stirring her blood and pumping a much needed boost of adrenaline through her body.
With a fierce effort she strained against the power that held her captive. With a sudden wrench, she managed to break free and tumbled to the hard ground. She cursed as her knees cracked against the stone, but with one motion she was surging to her feet and heading toward the mage.
She had to stop whatever he was doing. She had to …
Taking less than a half dozen steps, Laylah was brought to a painful halt as a slender hand wrapped around her neck and she was jerked off her feet.
“Don’t be a fool,” her aunt warned. “If you disturb the spell the child will die.”
Laylah reached up to grab Marika’s arm, wrapping her fingers around the forearm that was deceptively delicate.
“I’d rather he be dead than used in your sick plans,” she gasped, the crushing grip making it impossible to breathe.
“You’re too late, dear Laylah.” Her aunt’s laughter brushed over her skin with a biting chill. “At last I shall have all that I deserve.”
“Oh, you’re definitely going to get what you deserve.”
Laylah closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of Marika’s skin beneath her palm. She couldn’t overpower the vampire even under the best of circumstances, but she could damned well make her regret squeezing her like she was an empty tube of toothpaste.
Gritting her teeth, she released the power she’d gathered.
She hadn’t expected grand explosions, or point eight on the Richter scale. But the sparks of electricity that danced down her arm were barely enough to shock a dew fairy.
Desperately she struggled to dredge up the last of her strength, only to come up empty. She was drained. Empty.
Her heart faltered, her gaze shifting to where the baby was surrounded by a thousand shimmering lights.
Any moment the stasis spell would be destroyed and the child would become a helpless vessel to be filled with the evil spirit of the Dark Lord.
Screaming in frustration, Laylah dug her nails into Marika’s flesh. It couldn’t end this way. She wouldn’t allow it.
She wouldn’t.
Lost in her sickening sense of failure, it took a moment for Laylah to catch the scent of burning skin.
Bewildered, she glanced down to where she still clutched at the vampire’s arm. Holy crap. The faint sparks were now small, jagged bolts of lightning that were spearing into Marika with devastating results.
She frowned.
What the heck?
The power wasn’t coming from her. Or at least…
Laylah sucked in a shocked breath.
She was accustomed to the surge of energy coming from deep inside her. It was how her powers had always worked, no matter how unpredictable.
Now, however, she realized that she was filtering the power. There was no other means to describe it.
Just like a true Jinn she was absorbing the natural forces that surrounded her. The air, the earth, even the frozen water that clung to cracks and crevices, was seeping inside her, not precisely restoring her powers, but instead flowing out of her body and creating the electrical jolts that filled the air.
She shook her head, not taking time to ponder the unexpected turn of events.
It wasn’t the first time a sudden ability had appeared, although rarely when she actually needed it. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
With no control, Laylah had no choice but to allow the power to flood through her, the intensity growing with every heartbeat.
Marika’s fingers tightened on her throat, clearly attempting to snap her neck, but, with a direct reaction to the threat, Laylah’s powers struck out. The female vampire cursed, forced to drop Laylah and retreat several steps.
“You can’t defeat me,” she hissed.
Laylah struggled to keep her balance, shocked by the sight of Marika.
The hand that held her captive was blackened and shriveled, as if it had been stuck in an industrial fire, while there were several other burns scattered over her body.
She’d managed to do a lot more damage than she’d initially realized. Thank God.
She was so weary she could barely stand upright. She could only hope her spanking new abilities would be enough to put an end to the bitch.
“We’re about to find out,” she muttered.
“Stubborn,” Marika snarled, her dark eyes smoldering with hatred. “So like your mother.”
Her chin tilted. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Marika charged forward, slamming Laylah into the wall of the tunnel.
“Why?” the vampire gritted. “She lost. I broke her and now I’m going to break you.”
Without considering the consequences, Laylah curled up her hand and punched the nasty woman directly in the nose.
She didn’t possess a vampire’s strength, but there was a satisfying crunch of cartilage and a spurt of blood as her fist connected.
That one was for her mother.
“No, she didn’t lose,” she hissed. “She will defy you to her dying breath. Just as I will.”
Sharp claws sliced through Laylah’s upper chest and raked down her stomach, ripping through her flesh with a painful ease.
“Continue to battle me and I will make certain that her dying
breath happens sooner rather than later,” Marika warned.
Laylah shook her head, gritting her teeth against the agony. Tane had already assured her that Victor’s servant was in the process of rescuing her mother. There wasn’t a damned thing Marika could do to halt him.
“I doubt that.”
“I no longer have need of her. She is … expendable.” Marika mockingly ran her tongue down the intimidating length of her fang. “Unless you concede defeat.”
Laylah narrowed her eyes. The vampire had to be even weaker than she’d first suspected if she was trying to negotiate an end to their battle.
Lifting her hands toward her aunt’s face, Laylah was profoundly relieved when the female hastily backed from her touch.
She could feel the blood dripping down her body from her wounds and she knew she would soon be on her knees. Or worse.
She would have to strike quickly if she intended to survive long enough to rescue her baby.
“Never,” she swore, cautiously advancing.
Marika slashed her hand through the air, slicing open Laylah’s forehead.
Laylah swiped away the blood, recognizing the wound wasn’t deep. Yet another sign of the vamp’s weakness?
“You are willing to sacrifice your mother for this hopeless attempt to save the child?”
“My mother is currently being rescued by a very handsome vampire.”
Genuine outrage flared through the dark eyes. Marika didn’t like the thought of her sister escaping her clutches.
“You lie.”
“Well, Uriel can’t compare to Tane, but what man does?” Laylah taunted. “Still, he’s …”
With a screech, Marika launched herself forward. “You brat. You interfering, ill-bred mongrel.”
“Ill-bred?” Laylah ducked, barely escaping the fangs that snapped a mere breath from her throat. She smacked her hands against Marika’s chest, feeling the electrical current race through her and scorch the vampire’s silk top. “I thought you went to a great deal of trouble to breed me?”
Marika cried out, once again forced to step back as her skin began to smoke. “I created an abomination.”
Laylah instinctively flinched, before lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance. She didn’t give a crap what this lunatic thought. Or anyone else. Tane loved her. And nothing else mattered.
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