Bound By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #8)(29)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

Thank the gods.

“For a fairy who claims he wants to live in peace you play a dangerous game.”

He traced her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “Your turn to share.”

She shivered, the scent of her arousal spicing the air. “I think I’ve shared more than enough.”

“Tell me, Jaelyn.”

“Tell you what?”

“Why do you have nightmares?”

She cursed, abruptly pressing her hands against his chest. “Levet.”

He lifted his head with a frown. “The gargoyle?”

“Yes.”

Ariyal had a vague recollection of the miniature demon who had been traveling with the vampire Tane.

Aggravating pest.

“Well, he would certainly give anyone nightmares, but I’m not sure what he has to do with our conversation,” he muttered.

“He’s approaching.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“ Damn.”

With a pang of regret, he rolled off the bed and yanked on the jeans that had replaced his dojo pants before he left Avalon. Then, holding out his hand, he muttered the harsh words of magic that called his bow and arrows.

Behind him he heard Jaelyn pulling on her bits of spandex before she moved to stand at his side.

“What are you doing?”

“His arrival can’t be a coincidence.” Ariyal concentrated on the door, prepared to shoot the moment it opened. “The creature has obviously followed us here.”

“Not us,” Jaelyn corrected. “He’s looking for your charming spirit.”

“Who?”

“Yannah. He has some sort of gargoyle crush on her.”

He turned to watch her efficiently pull her hair into a smooth braid.

“Is this a joke?”

She crushed his brief hope with a decisive shake of her head. “No. He scented Yannah on me when I arrived in London and decided to join us.”

“And you let him?” he snarled in disbelief.

“Hey, he helped me rescue your ass, so just …”

“Just what?”

“Chill.”

The King of Were’s lair in St. Louis

Santiago shuddered as the mists at last cleared.

Mierda.

He hadn’t signed up for this when Styx had sent him in search of Cassandra.

He was prepared to battle demons, Sylvermyst, and even a mage if necessary.

He wasn’t prepared to be hauled around in a strange, choking mist by an exquisite female who had turned her back on the world centuries ago.

Or to abruptly find himself in an unfamiliar room miles from where he’d started.

Swiftly he took stock of his surroundings.

A dirt floor. Cement walls that were lined with towering shelves that held hundreds of dusty bottles. A collection of aged-wood barrels in the center of the room. And at the far end a series of arched doorways where Santiago could catch the low hum of refrigerators.

A wine cellar?

“Where the hell did you bring me?” he muttered in confusion.

“I am not entirely certain.” Nefri shrugged, not looking nearly as troubled at having dumped them in this strange cellar as she should. Not even when an unmistakable stench filled the air.

Santiago yanked the dagger from the sheath hidden at his lower back.

“Dogs,” he hissed.

“Bloodsucker,” a mocking voice retorted as one of the shelves slid aside to allow a pureblooded Were and a cur to step out of a hidden tunnel.

Santiago lifted his brows at the sight of Salvatore and his faithful sidekick Hess.

As always, the King of Weres was dressed in a hand-tailored designer suit. This one was an Italian wool in a pale charcoal with a white shirt and a burgundy tie. With his dark hair pulled into a neat tail and his lean face freshly shaved, he looked more like a mobster than a Were. His companion, on the other hand, looked like a hired thug with his six-foot-six, heavily muscled body and shaved head.

“Ah, not just a dog, but the King of Mutts,” he taunted, grimacing as Salvatore snapped his impressive teeth in his direction. “Shouldn’t royalty be house-trained?”

Pointing a gun that was loaded with silver bullets directly at Santiago’s heart, Salvatore nodded toward Hess, who swiftly moved to stand behind Nefri. The cur’s indecent bulk and the brutal glint in his eye made the slender female appear dangerously vulnerable, but no one in the room was stupid enough to doubt that she could kill any of them in a blink of an eye.

Her power pulsed about her in terrifying waves.

“Santiago.” Salvatore placed himself so he could keep an eye on both intruders. “Clearly I need to have a word with Styx. The arrogant bastard doesn’t seem to understand the concept of barriers.”

“Styx had nothing to do with our …” Santiago considered his words. Vampires and Weres were natural-born enemies. And both species relished their mutual desire to exterminate the other. But for the past few months Salvatore and Styx had called an uneasy truce as they were forced to work together to halt the greater evil. The Anasso would skin Santiago alive if he screwed up the temporary treaty. “Unexpected arrival.”

Salvatore narrowed his gaze. “You expect me to believe you managed to sneak past my guards without assistance?”

Santiago deliberately glanced toward the silent Nefri. “Our arrival was unconventional, to say the least.”

The King of Weres turned to study the dark-haired vampire, giving a whistle as he took stock of her delicate beauty.

“Cristo.” He returned his gaze to Santiago. “She’s way out of your league, amico. Did she lose a bet or are you holding her hostage?”

Santiago scowled. Out of his league? Was he supposed to be insulted? Nefri was out of everyone’s league.

Not only was the female heart-meltingly beautiful with the sort of regal grace that made a man itch to tumble her on her back and kiss away that aloof perfection, but she was also proving to be intelligent, cultured, and surprisingly resourceful.

And oh yeah, there was a very real possibility that she was the most powerful creature walking the face of the earth.

Besides, even if he was idiotic enough to long for the exquisite, unattainable Nefri (which he most certainly was not) she was a member of a clan who thought they were superior to the common vampires.

Arrogant snobs.

“She’s an Immortal One,” he said, his voice carefully bland.

“Really?” Salvatore blinked in genuine shock. “I thought they were a myth.”

Santiago met Nefri’s dark gaze, childishly annoyed by her serene composure. Did nothing rattle her?