Darkness Revealed (Guardians of Eternity #4)(35)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

She followed as Cezar returned to the obscenely large living room and watched as he tugged on his jeans and white shirt. For a moment she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the sight of the reverse strip-tease, shocked to discover it was as erotic as watching the clothes being taken off. Maybe the realization that he was commando beneath those tight black jeans had something to do with it.

Wondering how the room had suddenly become so hot, Anna cleared her throat and struggled to think of something beyond that hard male body.

“You said that the Oracles came for you that first night we were together.”

Tying his hair back with a leather thong, he gave a short nod. “Si.”

“Do you…are you one of them?”

His lips twisted in a strange, annoying smile. “I don’t have the power to become an Oracle, I’m merely a servant.”

She snorted at the ridiculous words. “You a servant?”

“I didn’t say I was a very good one.” Tugging on his boots, Cezar crossed to lightly touch the puncture marks on her neck. A strange thrill of pleasure raced through her. “Anna, I must go. If they are forced to call for me again I will be suffering for days.”

For a moment she tried to hold on to her suspicion. Maybe because it was her last line of defense against the potent obsession with this vampire that threatened to consume her. Then, heaving a deep sigh, she gave a nod. “Go.”

“I’ll have dinner sent to you.” He brushed a tender kiss over her lips before lifting his head and regarding her with a worried gaze. “Don’t leave these rooms. And if you need something there will be a guard at the door. If you scream she will come running.”

“She?”

“This place reeks of blood and sex. I’m not going to take any chances.”

With a last kiss that was far less tender and a lot more frustrated than the first, Cezar turned to walk toward the door. He had stepped over the threshold when she called out softly.

“Cezar.”

He paused. “What?”

“Be careful.”

Morgana glared down at the pretty demon that lay dead at her feet. The Adar had returned as commanded and then received his rightful reward.

Rightful as far as she was concerned.

Any low-blood demon who was stupid enough to believe he was worthy to taste the flesh of a queen deserved to die.

She had at least made it swift, if extraordinarily painful.

“Vampires?” She kicked the lifeless body. “What a waste of my time.”

Modron shuffled forward, her stench filling the small bedroom.

“The Adar seemed very certain that the lair hiding Sybil belonged to a vampire. A very powerful vampire who had more than one of his brethren in his company.” Her white eyes held an eerie glow in the dark room. “And we both know that Adars are never wrong.”

Morgana reached down and with an ease that was shocking for her slender, nearly delicate body, she lifted the Adar with one hand and tossed him through the window.

“Damn his rotten soul,” she hissed, watching as his body broke through the panes of glass. She wished the Adar wasn’t already dead. She firmly believed in killing the messenger when she didn’t like the news. “If it is vampires, why would they interfere in this? They care about nothing but their own kind.”

“How should I know?”

Morgana turned and slapped the hag across her ugly face. She was not in a good mood.

“Damn your disgusting hide, you’re a seer, aren’t you?”

Modron turned to spit blood on the floor, her wrinkled face filled with mocking amusement.

“My visions aren’t cable TV you can turn off and on with a remote. They come when they come.” She grimaced. “Besides, they never work on the undead. They’re a void to all mystics.”

Morgana cursed. She’d never liked vampires. Oh, they made extraordinary lovers, and no one could deny they were the most beautiful demons to walk the earth. But they were stubborn and unpredictable and far too domineering for her taste. Worse, they refused to bow to her will as was only proper for a queen.

“Fine, then I’ll take care of this myself.”

“You intend to confront the vampires?”

“Of course not, you idiot,” Morgana rasped, shaking back the sleeves of her silk robe. “Not even my powers could overcome an entire pack of the walking dead.”

“Then what do you intend to do?”

“If I can’t follow my prey then it seems I shall have to bring my prey to me. Hand me my dagger.”

Modron raised a gnarled finger. “No. You’re too weak…”

Morgana offered another slap across the face, this one hard enough to send the old woman flying into the wall.

“Worthless hag,” she seethed, crossing to the dresser where she had placed her most precious treasures. Choosing a dagger that had once belonged to a powerful sorcerer, and a wooden bowl, Morgana made her way to the bed and sat cross-legged on the bed.

Closing her eyes, she ignored Modron’s low moans, as she breathed in deeply and allowed her power to flow through her body.

Morgana had managed to touch the mind of her prey when she had still been in Avalon. It had been nothing more than a brief brush while her enemy was locked in a deep sleep, but it had been enough to reveal that the old blood ran strong in the stranger.

Too strong.

She didn’t dare wait to destroy the power that threatened her.

Morgana lifted the dagger and with one smooth motion she had cut a shallow wound into her inner arm. Stretching out her arm, she made sure that the steady drops of blood landed in the wooden bowl.

The air stirred, thickening with the magic that ran through her veins. She tilted back her head, chanting in low tones:

Blood calls to blood.

Hearts beat as one.

Ancient shadows stir and seek

Find what is hidden and reveal.

The scent of pomegranates and dark magic filled Morgana as she peered into the blood that was pooling in the bottom of the bowl.

She sensed Modron as she limped to stand at the side of the bed. “Your Majesty?”

Swaying side to side, Morgana abruptly stiffened as she reached into the darkness and discovered the faint echo of her own blood.

“Yes, I sense the power,” she murmured. “Not fully formed, but pulsing beneath the surface.”

“Do you see a face?”

“No.” She tested the barrier that held her from fully claiming the mind she sought. “A female, but her face remains hidden.”

“Is she shielded?”