Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity #10)(52)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

He stiffened, grimly allowing the humiliating memories of fleeing through the tunnels to escape with this female to rise to his mind.

At the time he would have done anything to keep her safe.

Anything.

And then he’d climbed out of the tunnel and the driving compulsion had been gone. Just as if a spell had suddenly been broken.

He shook his head. No. This had to be a trick.

What could be more clever than to release him from the greater compulsion so he would presume the spell was gone, while all along keeping him tied to her by far more subtle means?

A Manchurian candidate ready to be triggered when she felt the urge.

“That’s impossible.”

She shivered as his power wrapped around her in icy warning. “It’s the truth,” she protested.

“No.”

“Dammit, why are you so convinced I’m lying?”

“Because I can still feel you.”

“I . . .” Her words trailed away, her already pale face becoming downright ashen.

The sight wasn’t reassuring. “No smart-ass denial?”

“The spell is gone.” She hunched her shoulders, rubbing at her arm. “It has to be a—”

“A what?”

“Just a lingering side effect,” she said. “Yeah. A lingering side effect. That has to be it.”

She didn’t believe her excuse.

He knew because he could actually feel her growing agitation.

As if it were his own.

“Sally.”

She scrambled back as he reached to grasp her shoulders, her breath coming in short, painful pants.

“Look, I don’t know, okay? I told you I haven’t had much practice at being a demon.” She gave a sudden cry, yanking up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Dammit. Why is my arm itching?” There was a startled silence before Sally released a strangled moan. “Oh . . . shit.”

“Now what?” he growled, wondering if she was trying to distract him.

“I think I have a disease.”

She turned her arm to reveal the intricate red scrolling that crawled the length of her inner forearm. The marking wasn’t a disease. Or a reaction to his cooties. Or even the result of a drunken trip to the local tattoo parlor.

This mark was beneath the pale skin and only one thing could cause it.

A mating.

Swearing in several languages, Roke ripped off his leather jacket to glare down at the matching tattoo that marred his own arm.

The demon in him howled in disbelief.

“God . . . dammit.”

Sally glanced at him in confusion. “Am I dying?”

“Only if I decide to kill you.”

“That’s not funny.” She tried to meet him glare for glare but she couldn’t hide her growing fear.

And for some stupid reason that pissed him off more than the mark of bonding on his arm.

“Nothing about this FUBAR situation is funny,” he roared, moving with lightning speed to slam his hand into the brick wall.

His knuckles split open beneath the impact and the bricks crumbled to dust. Ignoring the blood dripping onto the cement floor, he slammed his hand into the bricks again, allowing the pain to hold back the blinding fury that threatened to consume him.

“Stop,” Sally cried from behind him. “You might be immortal, but I’m not so sure I am.”

Belatedly realizing his temper tantrum was sending a shower of dust and plaster from the ceiling, Roke turned to glare at his companion. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

She jerkily brushed the dust from her hair. “I haven’t done . . .” She seemed to forget what she was going to say as her gaze shifted over his shoulder. “What’s that?”

He turned back, startled to discover the large hole he’d punched into the wall had revealed the top of an old-fashioned steel strongbox complete with a combination lock.

“A safe of some sort,” he said with a shrug.

What did he care? He’d discovered this forgotten warehouse during his first week in Chicago. It was not only isolated from most humans, but it was far enough from Styx’s lair that he could enjoy his nightly meditation without fear of interruption.

He’d never given much thought to who had owned it before it was abandoned.

“There’s something strange about it.” She moved to stand at his side, her brow furrowed. “I think we should open it.”

“We have much bigger things to worry about than some forgotten treasure.”

“I’m not interested in treasure,” she snapped. “There’s something wrong with the aura around it.”

“Aura?” With a roll of his eyes, Roke reached to rip the top off the safe, ignoring the ear-splitting screech of metal as it was wrenched apart. The sooner he was done with Sally’s latest attempt to distract him, the sooner they could deal with the catastrophe she’d created. Peering into the safe, he made a sound of impatience. “It’s empty. Are you happy . . . ?” He frowned, blinking as there was a strange shimmer, like the sheen of a soap bubble before it burst to reveal something at the very bottom. “No, wait. There’s a book.”

Reaching into the safe, Roke was caught off guard when Sally grabbed his arm in a frantic grip.

“No. Don’t touch it.”

He sent her a wary glance. “Why?”

“There’s a spell wrapped around it.” She shivered. “A very nasty spell.”

“Can you get rid of it?”

“Not without time to prepare a counterspell.” She turned to meet his narrowed stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re certain I must be lying.” She folded her arms over her chest, her expression militant. “You don’t believe me, go ahead and touch it.”

Yeah, right. As if magic hadn’t screwed up his life enough. He wasn’t about to be turned into a newt. Or worse.

Of course. If he was a newt, then he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not he’d been trapped with this female for the next eternity.

With a shake of his head, Roke returned to pull on his leather jacket before grabbing Sally around the waist and, with one smooth motion, tossing her over his shoulder.

“This night could truly not get any worse,” he muttered, heading toward the door.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” she protested, slamming her hands against his back.

His arms wrapped around her thighs, keeping her from kicking him.

“If you hope to survive the night, little witch, you’ll keep your mouth shut until I tell you to speak.”