Bound By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #8)(76)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

Grabbing the end of the cot, he pulled it out of the way, his gaze on the wooden door.

“Why do suppose Gaius would want to keep this door hidden?”

“No doubt you intend to open it and find out,” she said dryly.

He flashed her a wicked smile as he stepped forward and pushed the key into the brass lock.

“You’re beginning to know me so well.”

“Unfortunately.”

Turning the key, Santiago was unprepared for the door to swing open with surprising force, revealing the hidden room beyond.

“Stand back,” he commanded, instinctively shifting to protect his companion.

Who knew what might lurk in the darkness?

Then, when nothing leaped out to attack them, he cautiously stepped through the narrow doorway and promptly came to an incredulous halt.

He was … speechless.

The room was barely larger than the closet and built of the same marble as everything else. But there was nothing barren in the life-size mural of a beautiful Egyptian female with long, ebony hair and dark, oblong eyes who was painted standing in front of the Great Pyramids.

It was so lifelike that Santiago half expected her to step off the wall and pull him into her welcoming embrace.

His gaze shifted to the wide shelf where a line of candles burned before moving on to the ivory satin gown that was neatly folded on top of a pair of gold embroidered pumps. Next to them were several wide gold bracelets and a matching necklace that glowed in the flickering candlelight.

Entering behind him, Nefri made a soft sound of shock. “Oh my.”

“Dara,” he said, an age-old sorrow twisting his heart.

“You recognize her?”

He gave a slow nod. “She was Gaius’s mate.”

“Was?”

“She and Gaius were captured by a rogue vampire clan.” His gaze returned to the lovely face that was filled with a rare kindness among vampires. There wasn’t a day that passed that he didn’t regret having traveled away from the lair the night it was attacked. “He was forced to watch as she was burned to ash in front of him.”

“How ghastly.” Nefri’s fingers lightly brushed his shoulder, as if she sensed his own pain at the loss of Dara. “It is no wonder he sought the solace to be found here.”

Solace?

Santiago frowned, putting aside his grief as a vague warning that something wasn’t right niggled at the back of his mind.

Once again his gaze made a slow circuit of the room, from the picture to the clothing that was clearly chosen with Dara’s modest taste in mind.

It was, at last, the scent of detergent and the realization that the gown had been recently washed that made him stiffen in horror.

“You believe that he came through the Veil seeking solace?” he demanded, a chill inching down his spine.

“Of course.” Nefri lightly touched the portrait. “Where better to grieve? He would have been allowed the solitude he needed to recover from his dreadful loss.”

“Or the solitude necessary to disguise his hidden agenda,” he added.

Her hand dropped as she regarded him with confusion. “Agenda?”

“Look around you, Nefri,” he urged softly. “This isn’t a shrine to loss.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s a symbol of hope.” Plucking the gown off the shelf, he shook it beneath her nose. A dead wife didn’t need a new gown and her favorite shoes. “He wasn’t saying good-bye, he was preparing to be reunited with the woman he adores.”

“Impossible,” she denied, even as her eyes darkened with a growing dismay.

He understood her reluctance to consider the thought that her clansman might be a raving lunatic beneath his careful façade.

Hell, Santiago didn’t want to believe it.

Even after Gaius had abandoned him.

But they didn’t have the option of sticking their heads in the sand.

“Perhaps, but if the Dark Lord was able to convince Gaius he could return Dara, do you think there’s anything he wouldn’t do to make it happen?” he asked, waving a hand toward Dara’s portrait. “Including betray his own people?”

Without warning she was out of the cramped chamber and crossing to the open doorway.

“We must tell the Elders what we have discovered.”

Rushing forward, Santiago grasped her upper arm and pulled her around to meet his stubborn glare.

“And then we go to Styx and warn him.”

“Yes.”

He blinked, wondering if he’d been whisked into some bizzaro land.

“No arguments?”

The pale, perfect face was impossible to read. “No arguments.”

“Dios. I suppose there truly are miracles.”

Chapter 22

Kneeling in the swirling mists, Ariyal cradled Tearloch’s motionless body in his arms.

A part of him understood that he was surrounded by danger. And that he should be searching the fog for his missing mate so they could get the hell out of there. But a greater part was lost in the searing pain of taking the life of his brother.

It didn’t matter that Tearloch had betrayed his tribe. Or that he’d led his fellow tribesmen into the vile hands of the wizard.

Or even that he’d spent the last few seconds of his life trying to take off Ariyal’s head.

For countless centuries they’d been brothers, standing side by side in battle and offering each other comfort after spending time in Morgana’s bed.

Their ties went too deep to be destroyed by a few weeks of madness.

Lost in his grief, Ariyal was barely aware of Jaelyn’s silent approach. Not until she lightly touched his shoulder.

“Ariyal.”

“I couldn’t reach him.” His gaze never left the lifeless silver eyes. They had once shimmered with amusement or flashed with fury. Now they were empty. A reminder of what had been stolen. “I had no choice.”

She bent down beside him, her expression filled with sympathy.

“I’m sorry.”

He gave a slow nod. “Is the wizard dead?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” A fierce stab of satisfaction pierced his heart. “He’s the first to pay for twisting Tearloch’s mind and nearly destroying my tribe. But he won’t be the last.”

She squeezed his shoulder, offering a comfort that helped to blunt the sharp edges of his pain.

“Ariyal, I feel your grief, but we have to get out of here.”

He frowned at the throbbing urgency in her voice. “You said the wizard was dead.”