Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)(56)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

Salvatore flew through the air, smacking into the wall with enough force to rattle his teeth. He was back on his feet in a heartbeat and charging across the floor of the cave without feeling his injuries. He’d waited for this moment for days.

Hell, he’d waited for years, although he hadn’t known it was Briggs he was hunting. Nothing was going to stop him now.

Briggs darted to the side, no doubt trying to summon another burst of magic, but Salvatore again slammed into his wolf form. Screw this magic shit. He rolled Briggs closer to the opening of the cave, using his heavier body to firmly trap the Were beneath him. Then, before Briggs could guess his intention, Salvatore shifted back to human form, grabbing the knife he’d dropped earlier and plunging the silver blade into Briggs’s chest.

It was a risk.

Salvatore didn’t have a clue if he could kill the already dead Were. But he intended to give it his best shot.

He twisted the knife deeper, searching for a heart and listening with grim pleasure as Briggs’s breath became a rattle. The pureblood’s lips pulled back in a snarl, clearly in pain, if not actually dying.

The silver burned through Briggs’s flesh, at last forcing him to shift back to his gaunt, fragile human body.

“No.” The crimson gaze shifted over Salvatore’s shoulder, as if searching for someone. “Master.”

“Do you want me to wait so your big bad master can come save you?” Salvatore sneered. “Or do you prefer the whole resurrection process?”

“He’ll never allow you to harm me.”

“I’m willing to test that theory.”

Yanking out the dagger, Salvatore was on the point of driving it back into the narrow chest that was already bleeding in a strange, sluggish way when there was the sound of a low hiss from behind him.

Salvatore jerked around, prepared for whatever was coming.

Except…nothing was coming.

At least nothing he could see or touch.

Was he jumping at shadows?

The thought had barely passed through his mind when a strange mist swirled around his head, and the sound of a bell echoed through his brain.

That was the last thing he remembered.

Salvatore discovered coming back to his senses was a slow, unpleasant process.

His head was groggy, his mouth as dry as the Sahara, and his entire body blazed with an agony that was explained once he opened his eyes to find he was currently stretched out on the stone altar, and held in place with a thick silver chain that wrapped around his body from his neck to his ankles.

Lifting his aching head a few inches off the hard stone, he took inventory of his situation, his breath hissing through his teeth as he noticed his own silver dagger stuck into his upper thigh. WTF? The chain was frying his skin with such intensity he hadn’t even noticed the damned dagger in his leg.

His brows snapped together as he watched the steady trickle of his blood flow into a tiny trough that had been carved along the edge of the altar. Pooling at the bottom of the table, the blood slowly dribbled into the brazier below his feet, the blazing fire hissing with each drip.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his gaze searching the seemingly empty cavern.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out, or where Briggs had disappeared to, or how he’d been carted back to this cave and trussed up like a sacrificial lamb.

All he knew was that he was in a boatload of trouble.

“Unfortunately, my servant is correct,” an unfamiliar voice filled the cavern, powerful and yet oddly muffled, as if it were speaking through water. “As much as I have enjoyed watching you teach Briggs a lesson in humility, I still have need of him.”

Genuine, undiluted alarm clenched Salvatore’s stomach.

Whoever had hog-tied him wasn’t any normal demon. The magic that hummed in the air was enough to make his hair stand on end.

“And you are?” he gritted, refusing to give into the urge to panic.

“Nilapalsara.”

“Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“It’s an ancient and revered name, although in this world I was worshipped as Balam,” the stranger smoothly answered, indifferent to Salvatore’s taunting.

His heart slammed against his aching ribs, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Demon lord.”

“You seem surprised.”

Surprised? Not the word he was looking for.

“You were banned from this world.”

Painful prickles raced over his skin. “The goddess certainly did her best to be rid of me. Thankfully, I possessed a deep and intimate connection to this dimension.”

Salvatore grimaced. “Mackenzie.”

“Very good.”

“How did you trick him into accepting your bond?”

“There was no trick.” There was the faintest hint of superiority in the voice, as if the demon lord wasn’t entirely above petty emotions. “The pureblood sought me out when it became obvious that he wasn’t the next in line for the throne.”

Salvatore desperately wanted to deny the claim. The mere thought that a Were would sacrifice his people for his own gain went against everything purebloods held sacred. But he’d already accepted the previous king’s treachery.

What was the point in playing dumb?

“You gave him the power to kill the legitimate heirs?” he instead said.

“I like to encourage ambition.”

“Blind greed is not the same as ambition.”

“Perhaps not to you, but they both suit my purpose.”

It was that mysterious purpose that was bothering Salvatore. Demon lords didn’t grant favors out of the kindness of their black hearts. Ignoring the ravaging pain and the sickening hiss of his life blood dripping into the flames, he struggled to think clearly.

“Mackenzie was given the black magic necessary to steal the throne; what did you get out of the deal?”

“He allowed me access to this world.”

“There had to be more…” Salvatore ground his teeth as realization abruptly hit. Dio. How the hell had he been so dense? “You used Mackenzie to drain the souls of all Weres. You’re responsible for the loss of our powers.”

The demon lord’s laughter echoed through the cavern. The sound was perhaps the creepiest thing Salvatore had ever heard.

“Very good, Giuliani. It took Mackenzie centuries to at last realize I was able to call on his connection to the packs.”

Salvatore bit back his smart-ass comment as Balam’s words sank through the fuzziness in his brain.

He’d never been close to Mackenzie, and after it was known that he was to be the next king, the older Were had become downright surly toward him. But there had been something different about him in the last few years of his life.