Charred by Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  Then, he gave a small nod. “Precisely.”

  She squared her shoulders. Bolt didn’t want this mating. Which meant she might be able to convince him to help her. At the very least, she could convince him not to stand in her path.

  “I am here to alter our futures,” she promised in a soft voice.

  “Alter the future?” He frowned in confusion. “What does that mean?”

  She paused. She had enough knowledge of males to realize that Bolt would dig in his feet if he thought she was asking him to betray his loyalty to his clan.

  “Perhaps we can both seek happiness rather than duty,” she finally said.

  As expected, he gave a sharp shake of his head. “My father will never allow me to break the betrothal.”

  “Never say never,” she warned him. “I believe in miracles.”

  Without warning, he glanced down corridor. “Does your miracle include your servant?”

  Warmth raced through her blood at the thought of Char. Even out of sight she could feel him. She sensed his frustration and fear at being forced to stay away. And his pounding need to know that she was safe.

  Barely realizing what she was doing, she reached out with her mind to offer him comfort. Instantly he reached back, offering a mental stroke that sent a tingle of pleasure snaking down her spine.

  A small smile curved her lips.

  So that was that.

  There was no way she could have so easily connected to Char if he wasn’t her true mate.

  “Yes, I suppose he is a miracle,” she agreed.

  Blayze felt a hot color stain her cheeks, but thankfully, Bolt didn’t ask for more information. He obviously sensed that she was closer to a mere half-breed than she should be. But since she hadn’t interrogated him when it came to the female he preferred, he offered her the same respect for her privacy.

  “You said that you used the curse to travel back to this time?”

  Happy to return the conversation to more pressing matters, she swiveled on the bench to face him. She wanted him to see her expression and know that she was determined to succeed in her goals.

  “Yes. I thought it would bring me to the precise time that the curse was cast, but instead it seems to have brought me to the time that the curse was smuggled into this lair.”

  He gave a slow nod. “So you’ll discover who is responsible?”

  “Char already managed to discover who was responsible.”

  “Who?”

  “A dragon named Magma.”

  “Bastard.” With a low roar, Bolt was on his feet, bluish flames swirling around his body. “I am not surprised that he would be the traitor.”

  Blayze rose from the bench, inwardly pleased by Bolt’s reaction. “Why aren’t you surprised?”

  “It has been whispered for many years that he is a dragon without honor,” Bolt said. “Not only has he broken contracts, and stolen from his own clansmen, but he has used nefarious means to defeat his enemies rather than facing them in open battle.”

  Blayze felt a surge of anger as she thought of the dragon who was evil enough to use black magic on a mere hatchling to keep his position of power.

  “He is obviously willing to go to any lengths to maintain his place with the Council.”

  Bolt continued to look disgusted, but it was the hint of resolve hardening his features that gave her a tiny burst of hope.

  “The male will pay for his treachery,” he growled.

  She lifted a warning hand. “First I must track down the servant who has the curse.”

  He frowned. “Magma used one of his servants to bring the curse to the lair?”

  She shook her head. “Not one of his,” she corrected. “One of my father’s.”

  He stiffened in shock. “You are certain?”

  “Yes.”

  Bolt clenched his hands, his flames continuing to dance over his body. “We should warn Synge.”

  “We’ve already tried to tell him that there is danger,” she told him. “My father refuses to believe that anyone would dare and try to attack him in his own lair. And if Magma learns we have discovered his plan he will either strike out and cause a war between clans, or he will find another way to hurt my father.” She held his dark gaze. “Or even you.”

  Bolt was immediately offended by her warning. He bristled with male pride, puffing out his chest. “He does not frighten me.”

  Blayze rolled her eyes. “Are all males the same?” she demanded.

  He pretended he didn’t hear her. “How do you intend to learn which servant has the curse?”

  “My hope is that I can sense the magic,” she said, grimacing as she realized it didn’t sound like a very good plan when she said it out loud.

  Bolt, however, merely nodded. “And when you find him?”

  She blinked. Why did people continue to ask such a stupid question?

  “I’ll kill him, of course.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Levet paced from one end of the tiled floor to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. His tail swished behind him and his wings were drooping.

  It’d been over an hour since they’d entered Blayze’s private chamber. Vex continued to perch on the edge of the bed, her eyes closed while Tayla watched her with a growing impatience.

  “What’s she doing?” Tayla at last burst out.

  Levet halted his pacing to glance toward Vex. The succubus didn’t move, but he could feel the hum of her power. It didn’t have the erotic edge that most succubi used, but it still sent tiny tingles of pleasure through his body.

  “She is searching for Blayze’s mental imprint,” he said, his gaze swiveling toward Tayla.

  The imp folded her arms around her waist. Her pretty face was pale and tight with strain. Levet swallowed a sigh. He hated to see her so stressed-up. No wait…stressed out.

  “Why is it taking so long?” Tayla demanded.

  Vex abruptly lifted her lashes, her golden eyes dark with frustration.

  “Because the dragon is either dead or in another dimension,” she announced in clipped tones.

  “Dead?” Tayla gasped, pressing a hand to the center of her chest. “No. I refuse to believe that fate could be so cruel.”

  Vex shrugged. Unlike Tayla and Levet, the succubus had nothing to lose if someone had managed to kill Blayze.

  “Haven’t you heard? Fate is a bitch,” Vex retorted. Then she gave another shrug. “But I do feel a distant echo which makes me believe that she might still be alive. It’s almost as if she has traveled…”

  Vex allowed her words to trail away.

  “Where?” Tayla prompted, eager to latch on to any thread of hope.

  Vex released a harsh sigh. “I am not sure.”

  Levet waddled forward, laying a small hand on Vex’s knee. “Can you try to reach her?” he asked.

  Vex paused, glancing toward Tayla before returning her gaze to Levet. “I will try, but I can’t make any promises,” she said.

  “Merci, ma belle.” Levet patted her knee, a strained smile curving his lips. “And just as a teensy, tiny reminder, my future health depends solely on you locating Blayze.”

  Vex scowled, clearly feeling the pressure. “Then maybe you should leave me alone to do my business,” she snapped.

  “Oui.” Levet wisely stepped away. See? He had no death wish. “Do your business.”

  Vex glared at him before closing her eyes. Levet continued to back away, joining Tayla who had moved to stand in the open doorway. Far enough away to give the succubus space, but still capable of keeping an eye on her.

  “What happens if she does find Blayze’s mental imprint?” Tayla asked in a soft voice, as if worried she might draw the wrath of Vex if she spoke too loud.

  She should be worried.

  Vex was called Vex for a reason. She was beautiful and passionate and glorious fun. But she had the temper of a rabid goblin.

  “Then she can latch on to her and use the connection to physically yank her back to this room.”r />
  Tayla looked suitably impressed. It was one thing to be able to mentally communicate with another demon. Levet possessed that particular skill. But to actually be able to mentally grab on tight enough to transport them from one spot to another was amazing.

  “Does she pull them through a portal?” Tayla asked.

  Levet gave a lift of his hands. “I’ve never seen her actually do it.”

  Tayla sighed, chewing on her lower lip. “I hope this works.”

  Levet’s tail twitched. Styx’s warning was still ringing in his ears. “As do I.”

  ***

  Styx left The Viper Pit’s rooftop, where a shimmering dome of magic held the ancient dragon in stasis.

  The magical spell thankfully continued to keep Synge imprisoned in a deep sleep, but Styx remained on edge. With every passing second they came closer to Synge breaking free of the spell and starting a war that none of them wanted.

  And the worst part was that there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

  He had no way of discovering which vampire might have released the curse. Not when it had happened over five hundred years ago. Which meant he had to depend on Levet to track down Blayze and return her to her father’s lair.

  Was it any wonder his stomach felt it was being tied into a tight knot of dread?

  No demon with a brain in his skull would want to place the fate of the world in the hands of that damned gargoyle.

  Returning to the balcony of the club, he found Viper waiting for him.

  “Where’s Baine?” the younger vampire demanded.

  “I asked him to remain and keep an eye on his father,” Styx said. “I’d like a little warning if the stasis spell starts to fail.”

  Viper grimaced. “I’d like more than just a ‘little’ warning,” he muttered.

  No shit. The knot in Styx’s gut doubled in size.

  He moved to glance over the railing. The long room was empty, but he could sense fey creatures still scurrying below him.

  “I thought you were going to empty the place of guests?”

  Viper gave an elegant wave of his hand. The younger vampire would forever be a Regency aristocrat at heart.

  “There are a few pixies hiding in the cellars. They managed to lock themselves in one of the storage closets and refuse to come out.”

  Styx snorted. Fey looked fragile, but they were cunning beasts who would take advantage of any situation. “They probably took a few bottles of your brandy with them,” he pointed out.

  Viper arched a brow. “Speaking of my precious brandy, I do hope you intend to make sure the enraged dragon who is perched on my roof doesn’t destroy my club.”

  Styx instinctively glanced toward the ceiling. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see Synge. He could feel his presence pressing down on them with a heavy sense of doom.

  “I’m more concerned about the enraged dragon destroying me,” he admitted.

  Viper tugged at the lacy cuff of his shirt that peeked from the sleeve of his velvet coat.

  “Well that would be a shame, of course,” he drawled. “But not as tragic as the loss of The Viper Pit.”

  Styx rolled his eyes. “Your loyalty to your Anasso is touching.”

  “There can be another Anasso,” Viper assured him. “There’s only one Viper Pit.”

  Styx’s lips twitched. Being the King of the Vampires was a sucky job that had few rewards. Unfortunately, someone had to do it, and for now the responsibility was squarely on him. “We should be safe for another few hours,” he said, inwardly sending a prayer to whatever deity might be listening. In truth, he didn’t know how long they had.

  “And then?” Viper demanded.

  “Then we run,” he retorted.

  Viper made a sound that revealed what he thought about Styx’s plan. At least he didn’t flip him off.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if you took your big-ass sword to the roof and killed our unwelcome visitor?” the younger vampire asked.

  The thought had crossed Styx’s mind. More than once.

  “I’m trying to avoid a war with the dragons,” he told his companion. “Something that will be easier if I don’t kill one of their most powerful leaders. Plus, Baine is up there keeping a watch on his father. He might have something to say about me waving around a pointy weapon.”

  Viper rolled his eyes. “Buzzkill.”

  Styx folded his arms over his chest. “As much as I hate to admit it, I have to hope that Levet can find Blayze before all hell breaks loose.”

  Viper looked grim. “Literally.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Char finished his sweep of the empty guardroom. It looked the same as it did five hundred years in the future. No big surprise. Most warriors had zero interest in interior design.

  They wanted someplace to practice their skills, store their weapons, and sleep without concern they were going to be attacked.

  Simple.

  Once he was certain it would be the perfect way to locate the treacherous servant, he stepped into the corridor, and headed back toward Blayze.

  He didn’t know if it’d been five minutes. And he didn’t care.

  He could tell himself a thousand times that Blayze could never be his. And that he would have to walk away when she chose a pureblooded mate. Someone like Bolt. But his dragon was restlessly pressing against his skin, refusing to accept the inevitable.

  His beast was convinced the female belonged to him. And no amount of logic was going to change his mind.

  Rounding the curve of the corridor, he discovered Blayze standing close to Bolt. Instantly his silver flames were dancing over his skin.

  “Your time’s up,” he growled, his gaze locked on Bolt as he continued to move forward.

  Blayze made a sound that might have been frustration as she hurried toward him and laid a hand on the center of his chest.

  “Bolt has agreed to help us,” she said.

  The mere sound of the male’s name on her lips was enough to make Char’s dragon roar in protest.

  “We don’t need his help,” Char snapped.

  Blayze frowned. “Of course we do.”

  “I—” Char snapped his lips together. He was being an idiot. Who would turn away the assistance of a pureblooded dragon? Only a jealous, petty fool, that’s who. “Fine,” he forced himself to mutter, pivoting on his heel to lead them back down the corridor. Baine had taught him the benefits of using his brain rather than his brawn. Right now, he needed to concentrate on what he’d learned from those lessons. It was the best way to protect Blayze. “Follow me.”

  Blayze quickened her step to walk at his side, the pulsing heat of Bolt slamming into Char’s back as the odd trio moved in silence through the torchlit hall.

  They followed the curve of the corridor, before Char led them through an arched opening.

  “Where are we going?” Blayze asked in confusion.

  They traveled across the open space that was used for training. Bare floor. Bare ceiling. Weapons lining the walls.

  “This is the area used by Synge’s warriors,” Char explained.

  Blayze continued to look confused. “You think the servant is a guard?”

  Char shook his head. “No, but there is a connecting door into the servants’ quarters.”

  She tilted her head to the side, regarding him with a questioning glance. “Why go in the back way?”

  “The servants aren’t used to having guests strolling around in this area,” Char pointed out. “It might alert the traitor that something is wrong.”

  “He makes a sound point,” Bolt said. “Our presence will attract unwanted attention.”

  Char pressed his lips together. He wanted to tell Bolt that he didn’t need his damned approval. Unfortunately, he’d already used up his quota for acting like a peevish hatchling. Time to be a big boy and concentrate on destroying the bastard who held the curse.

  Blayze glanced around the empty space as they moved from the training area to the sleeping area.
“Where are the guards?”

  “They’re all on duty in other parts of the lair,” he said. “Synge is more concerned with the guests in the throne room than what’s happening with the servants.”

  She gave a slow nod. “Okay. I guess that makes sense.”

  They moved past the barrack-styled cots and out a narrow back entrance. There was a hallway that led to the bathing area in one direction, and in the opposite direction was the entrance to the servants’ main quarters.

  Char slowed as the air became spiced with the thickening scent of fey and several lesser demons who served Synge.

  “How close do you need to be?” he asked in a low voice.

  Blayze gave a lift of her hands. “I don’t know. I’ve never used my magic like this before.”

  Char grimaced. The last thing he wanted was for Blayze to be near the servant responsible for destroying her life, but he didn’t know how else for her to sense the curse. “Through here.”

  He led them into the dark alcove that offered a view of the large courtyard. It wasn’t as stark as the guards’ room, but it was still plain, with a few benches, and a table in the center of the floor.

  Fewer than a handful of servants were in the courtyard. Some eating a late dinner, and others strolling around the open space before returning to their duties.

  Beyond the courtyard was an arched opening that led to the sleeping quarters, but Char was hoping they could remain hidden in the shadows.

  “Well?” he asked softly.

  Blayze closed her eyes, her hands clutched at her side. Then she sucked in a startled breath. “The curse is here.”

  His heart jumped with a fierce surge of hope. Whether they got back to their time or not, the first priority was ensuring that they got rid of the curse.

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell who has it?”

  She took a minute, her gaze skimming over the handful of servants. At last she pointed at a slender male wearing Synge’s dark green uniform.

  “There. The vampire.”

  Char studied the male. He was average height with brown hair smoothed into a tail at his nape. His features were pale, and carved into stern lines. Char didn’t recognize him.