Charred by Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  CHARRED BY DARKNESS

  Book 3 in the Dragons of Eternity

  by

  Alexandra Ivy

  Copyright © 2017 by Debbie Raleigh

  Editor: Julia Ganis

  Cover Art by Patricia Schmitt (Pickyme)

  Table of Contents

  About The Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Pretend You’re Safe

  Kill Without Shame

  About The Author

  Alexandra Ivy is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Guardians of Eternity, as well as the Sentinels, Dragons of Eternity and ARES series. After majoring in theatre she decided she prefers to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She lives in Missouri with her family. Visit her website at www.alexandraivy.com.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Levet appeared at the entrance of the dragon’s lair with a dramatic flutter of his wings. He was a gargoyle who liked to make his entrance in style. And really, who could blame him?

  Okay, there were a few stupid demons who had called him a sorry excuse for a gargoyle. And he’d even been voted out of the Gargoyle Guild, just because he barely stood three feet tall and his magic wasn’t the traditional, boring gargoyle magic.

  But whatever he lacked in stature, or magic, he more than made up in sheer magnificence.

  His features were gloriously grotesque, and he had the traditional thick gray skin of all gargoyles. His eyes were reptilian and his horns were stunted. He even possessed a long tail he kept polished until it glowed.

  Even more superb, his wings were brightly colored and delicate as gossamer. The haters might claim that they would have been more fitting on a sprite or fairy than a lethal creature of the dark. But as far as Levet was concerned they only added to his air of sensuous mystery.

  Waiting for the door to be swept open, Levet gave a sniff of disapproval.

  Really, it was too bad of Tayla. He’d been having a perfectly lovely time with a fire imp when his friend had sent him a frantic mental plea for him to join her at Synge’s lair.

  Pinto.

  No, wait. That wasn’t right.

  Pronto. He snapped his fingers. Oui, that was it.

  The least she could do was be standing there, awaiting his arrival with bated breath.

  This had to be the work of Tayla’s new mate, Baine, he decided, wrinkling his snout. When he’d first met the pretty imp, Tayla had been hiding from the lethal dragon. They’d lived together in a pretty tea shop where Tayla had cooked him delicious treats.

  He sighed. He missed those days.

  Now Tayla was all googly-eyed over her mate, with no time to provide Levet with hot scones and his favorite nectar. It was a tragedy.

  Perhaps he should return to the volcano where his fire imp was waiting for him. The way she could singe his—

  Levet’s naughty thoughts were interrupted when the thick stone wall slid inward. He hesitated before he waddled forward. There was no point in putting off the inevitable. The quicker he could discover what Tayla needed, the quicker he could return to his lovely imp.

  There was the fresh scent of citrus, then a female appeared out of the darkness.

  Tayla.

  She was lovely. No surprise—all fey tended to be blessed with exquisite beauty.

  Today she was wearing a loose white tunic that flowed to the floor in a shimmer of silk. Her dark gold hair was fanned over her shoulders and down her back with hints of fire in the strands. Her face was a pale oval with a narrow nose and plush peach lips. Her eyes were a pale green with shards of jade, and thickly lashed.

  At the sight of him she held out her hands. “Oh, Levet. Thank the goddess.”

  Levet reached to grasp her fingers. “I do not think you need to thank the goddess,” he assured her. “It was my kind and generous heart that brought me here.”

  He believed in pointing out his accomplishments. How else could other creatures properly appreciate his many talents?

  Tayla’s lips twitched as she released his claws and waved him into the cavernous space.

  “Yes, well. I should warn you that things are a tad…” She paused, before she cleared her throat and continued. “Tense today.”

  Levet stepped forward, his wings snapping together as the wall slid closed behind him.

  Heat and smoke and a hint of brimstone curled around them. It was smothering.

  “This is a dragon’s lair. When are things not tense?” Levet pointed out.

  “True.” Tayla wrinkled her pretty nose. “Let’s just say that things are more tense than usual.”

  Levet scowled. “What the devil is wrong with the dragons? Not only did Baine steal you away from me, but his father just had his mate and daughter returned to him. The old lizard should be delighted,” Levet groused, still annoyed with having his comfy home disrupted when Baine had come to claim Tayla in return for her father’s debts.

  Tayla paled. “Shh. If Synge hears you…” She allowed her words to trail away. Almost as if she decided that she was wasting her breath. She gave a shake of her head before turning to lead Levet deeper into the lair. “Never mind. Follow me.”

  Levet hurried to keep up with his hostess, his claws scraping against the stone floor. Unlike Baine’s palatial home, his father, Synge, preferred a more rustic style. Barren stone. Heavy wooden beams on the ceiling. Torches dotting along the walls. Screams from the torture chambers.

  Very medieval.

  Of course, the older dragon had a few spaces that were actually decorated. His throne room. And the harems. And, Levet assumed, the family chambers.

  Mostly, however, it was all very dark and grim.

  Just like Synge.

  They moved quickly down a long corridor where a few servants were going about their business. Some were half-breed dragons, and others were fey or vampires. All of them were wearing green and gold uniforms with the emblem of a lightning bolt on their upper chest. And all of them looked nervous. As if they were expecting to be torched by dragon-fire at any moment.

  Waiting until they turned into a hallway that Levet suspected led to the private quarters, he moved to walk at Tayla’s side.

  “So what has Synge’s tail in a twist?” he asked.

  Tayla cast a furtive glance around before answering. “Blayze disappeared.”

  Levet scratched his stunted horn. How long had it been since they found the female dragon. A day? Two days?

  “Already?” he asked in surprise. “Do not mistake me—I assumed she would fly the coop, just not so quickly.”

  Tayla’s breath hissed between her teeth as she glared down at him. “Are you deliberately trying to get yourself killed?”

  Levet considered. Why were people always asking him such a ridiculous question?

  “Non.” He gave a decisive shake of his head. “Not deliberately.”

  Tayla briefly closed her eyes, her citrus scent filling the air. Then, with seeming effort, she opened her eyes and continued down the hallway.

  “We don’t think that Blayze willingly left the lair,” she said.

  Levet blinked. Then blinked again. Although he’d been busy with his imp when Blayze had been returned to this lair, he’d heard that they’d tucked her away and surrounded he
r with layers upon layers of magic. Not to mention the fact that no one could get in or out of a dragon’s lair.

  “She was kidnapped?”

  Tayla bit her bottom lip. “It’s impossible to say.”

  Levet gave his horn another scratch. “I fear that I am confused, ma belle,” he said. “Perhaps it would be best if you started at the beginning.”

  She slowly nodded, her green eyes shimmering with worry in the torchlight as they turned down a new corridor. This one had a faded fresco on one wall. It looked like it depicted a battle between dragons and a legion of trolls.

  The dragons were winning.

  Predictable.

  “You know that Blayze was cursed just hours after she was born?” Tayla was asking him.

  “Oui. A most cowardly act.” Levet’s tail twitched. He hated demons who picked on the most vulnerable. “What despicable monster would torture a mere child?”

  Tayla’s hands clenched into tight fights. “Demons are rarely known for their warm and fuzzy personalities.”

  “Hey, I can be warm,” Levet protested. He glanced down at his leathery, gray skin. “Not so much fuzzy.”

  “Levet,” Tayla chastised, her tone sharp. “I need you to concentrate.”

  Levet’s wings fluttered, his lower lip jutting out in an impressive pout. Then, realizing that Tayla was genuinely worried, he heaved a small sigh.

  Later he would remind her that he was a Knight In Shining Armor who was deserving of groveling respect. For now he would put aside his pride and offer his assistance.

  It’s what Knights In Shining Armor did.

  “Pardon, ma belle,” he said. “I am listening.”

  She grimaced, as if regretting her sharp tone, but she continued with her story.

  “Ravel escaped with Blayze after the Dragon Council commanded that the young hatching be put to death.”

  Levet rolled his eyes. “Dragons.”

  Tayla sighed. “Yes. They are ruthless.”

  Levet snorted. “Ruthless does not adequately capture their essence.” He glanced toward the fresco splashed over the wall. They’d reached the part of the painting where the trolls were being toasted into piles of ash by the dragons that circled overhead. “They are savage, deranged, bloodthirsty maniacs.”

  Her lips parted to argue. Then she gave another sigh. Not even a female besotted with her mate could pretend that the dragons were anything but brutal killers.

  “Some of them,” she agreed, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “Anyway, after Ravel returned to this lair with Blayze, they called on Char to use his magic to slow time. They had to find a way to keep the stasis spell in place until they could figure out a more permanent solution.”

  Char, a dragon half-breed, had technically been given to Baine by his father. Like a scaly, fire-breathing birthday gift. But Levet had spent enough time in Baine’s household to know that Char was considered more a brother than a servant.

  The two male dragons had been BBFs for centuries.

  Now Levet blinked in shock.

  “Char can slow time?” he demanded in surprise.

  “His mother was a Dalia demon,” Tayla explained.

  Ah. Levet gave a nod. Dalia were fey creatures that usually hid in the frozen tundra of Siberia. They could slow time by casting a spiderweb of power.

  “Very rare,” he breathed, more than a little annoyed. He’d never seen Char alter time.

  Which seemed excessively unfair.

  “Yes,” Tayla said.

  Brushing aside his irritation, Levet concentrated on more important matters.

  “Did Char kidnap Blayze?” he asked.

  Tayla flinched. “He’s being blamed.”

  “But you do not believe he is guilty?”

  “Char has been my mate’s most loyal servant for five centuries.” Her features hardened, her steps slowing as they neared the end of the corridor. “Baine is certain he couldn’t be involved.”

  Levet tilted his head to the side. “And you?”

  “I agree with Baine.”

  “Because you are a dutiful mate?”

  She regarded him with a steady gaze. “Because I know Char. He’s charming, arrogant, and self-indulgent, but there’s nothing more important to him than his loyalty.”

  Levet sorted through his various memories of the half-breed dragon. Tayla was right. Char was arrogant. Of course, his intelligence was doubtful, since he consistently refused to admire Levet’s astonishing skills.

  But the one thing he could not deny was that the younger dragon was obsessively loyal to his master. There was nothing he would not do, including giving his own life to protect Baine.

  The thought that he would kidnap Baine’s own sister and make an enemy of Synge was unimaginable.

  They stepped through the arched opening at the end of the hallway into a small antechamber. The walls had been smoothed and polished to reflect the overhead chandelier that burned with a hundred candles. There were two long benches spaced around the floor, as if this was some sort of waiting room.

  Levet’s gaze darted toward the heavy wooden doors cut into the walls. He suspected that each led to a separate area of the private chambers.

  The scent of ancient incense was thick in the air, along with a potent musk of a pureblood dragon who was headed in their direction.

  Levet’s tail twitched. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the overgrown lizards. Of course he wasn’t. He was a renowned hero who feared nothing.

  Still, he preferred to spend his time with pretty fire imps who toasted his body with pleasure, not screaming agony.

  He cleared his throat, studying his companion with a curious gaze.

  “While I am quite flattered by your invitation, I fear I am not entirely certain why you were so insistent that I come.”

  Tayla stood in the center of the chamber, her face pale as she twisted her hands together.

  “I’m worried about Char and Blayze,” she told him. “We must find them.”

  Levet stepped forward, sensing there was more than just concern for the two missing dragons.

  “Why me?”

  Tayla did more hand twisting as she carefully chose her words. Levet felt a tiny pang. He might have resented Baine for crashing into Tayla’s teahouse and sweeping her away, but he never doubted that the dragon cherished Tayla with every beat of his serpentine heart. And, more importantly, he’d watched as Tayla had bloomed from a shy, skittish fey into a contented female who faced the world with confidence.

  Seeing her once again nervous and on edge troubled Levet.

  “Baine and his father have just started to form a relationship,” she told him. “Now they’re once again barely speaking. Synge is convinced that Char is guilty and he’s furious that Baine refuses to agree with him.” She sucked in a deep breath. “The sooner we can prove Char wasn’t responsible, the better.”

  Levet grimaced. He could understand her sense of urgency. Dragon family dynamics were volatile under the best of circumstances. Now they must be downright explosive.

  A very good reason for a smart gargoyle not to get involved.

  “Surely Synge’s servants are searching for them?” he suggested.

  “Of course, but they’re concentrating on how Char could have slipped out of the lair unnoticed.” She sent him a pleading glance. “I want to discover if something else could have come in and snatched them.”

  “That seems unlikely.”

  “No more unlikely than Char betraying Baine.”

  Levet couldn’t argue with her logic. “You want me to search the lair for an intruder?” he pressed.

  She gave a lift of her hand. “I want you to search for the truth.”

  “Even if Char is responsible?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

  Levet heaved a sigh. Only a fool meddled in dragon business, but he was no match for her big green eyes that silently begged for his help.

  “Très bien.” He gave a resigned lift of his ha
nds. “I need to be taken to the place where they were last seen together.”

  She tossed him a relieved smile before she turned and headed across the floor.

  “Through here,” she said, pushing open a door.

  Levet followed in her footsteps, peeking into the room.

  It was a massive space that was carved out of the stone in the shape of an octagon. Overhead, the domed ceiling was covered with tiles made from gold. There was a delicate painted screen that divided the main room from a small garden at the far end where a fountain shimmered in the glow of the numerous candles.

  Levet stepped forward and then came to a sudden halt. He shivered as a heavy sense of doom wrapped around him.

  “I feel as if a troll is sitting on my head,” he rasped.

  Tayla wrapped her arms around her waist. “You can still feel Blayze’s curse. It makes the atmosphere a bit heavy.”

  He tried to ignore the darkness that hammered at him.

  “That is like saying a bear is poopy when he is in the woods.”

  Tayla’s brows tugged together. “I don’t know what that means.”

  Levet wrinkled his snout. “Me either. But it something that I heard at The Viper Pit,” he said, referring to the vampire bar where he used to be a welcomed guest.

  Okay, perhaps welcomed wasn’t the precise word.

  Grudgingly not eaten when he came through the door might be more accurate.

  Levet was distracted from his inane thoughts when the darkness in the room was overshadowed by a thunderous power that made the floors tremble and the air sizzle with heat.

  His claws dug into the marble floor. A dragon.

  And one who was wielding enough magic to make Levet’s skin prickle with warning.

  A shadow fell across the doorway even as the air continued to heat, making Levet’s wings flutter with discomfort. Really, dragons could be the most inconsiderate creatures. If he wanted to feel as if he was being roasted alive, he would return to the volcano.

  On the point of complaining, Levet snapped his lips shut as a male stepped through the door and moved to stand in the center of the room.

  Baine.

  The dragon had chosen his familiar shape. He had a narrow face, with Asian features and almond-shaped eyes that burned with an amber fire. His straight black hair fell with liquid-smooth perfection to just above his shoulders. He was attired in nothing more than a loose pair of dojo pants that revealed the tattoos crawling over his pale skin with a strange metallic shimmer. Someone not accustomed to the markings could easily become hypnotized by their beauty as they pulsed and changed colors.