Taken By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #7.25)(5)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

She took an abrupt step backward. Justin was handsome and, when he made the effort, a charming companion, but she had no interest in becoming his mistress. As far as she was concerned, their relationship was strictly business.

“Not particularly.”

“Hmm.” He studied her with a rueful smile. “I wish I believed you, my dear.”

With a restless shrug, Juliet turned to pace toward the edge of the terrace.

“Perhaps we should leave London.”

“You have a sudden desire to travel?” There was a hint of surprise in his voice.

Perfectly understandable.

Juliet had never made a secret of her aversion to their constant touring from place to place. It was not that she didn’t understand the need to avoid settling in one area for too long. Humans were not particularly perceptive, but eventually they did notice if their neighbors did not age. But it did not make the constant upheavals in her life any easier.

Now, however, she could not deny a cowardly urge to flee from Victor and the dangerous sensations he inspired.

“Why not?”

“For one thing, there is a pesky war being waged throughout Europe, if you will recall, my love,” he drawled, “and while the winter months always put a damper on the generals’ enthusiasm for battle, if my sources are not mistaken, the foolish Archduke Charles is planning a futile uprising in Austria, which of course will spark all sorts of nasty retaliations. We can only hope that Vienna is not damaged by their stupidity.”

She shrugged. “The Continent is not the only place beyond England. We could visit India or the Americas or—”

“Juliet, you are well aware that I dislike the colonies,” Justin interrupted, a hint of impatience entering his voice. “The society is tedious, the entertainments are rustic, and the natives little better than savages. Besides, my negotiations with the fey are not going as well as I would desire.”

Her heart sank.

For all of Justin’s magic, he was still human, and it was only with a potent mixture of rare herbs that he managed to hold back his mortality.

Herbs that could only be grown with fey magic.

Which meant that Justin would not dare to leave London until he was certain he had enough of the potion to last him for several weeks, if not months.

“What is wrong? You have never had trouble bartering for your potion before.”

Justin grimaced. “The fey are…unsettled.”

“That is hardly a shock. They are always flighty and unpredictable.”

“It is worse than usual. For the past three months I have sought to meet with Yiant, offering him a number of my finest possessions for the privilege, only to be told the Prince is not receiving.”

Juliet frowned in puzzlement. As she had said, the wood sprites were flighty creatures, but they were also cursed with an insatiable craving for magic. Nothing less than the threat of impending death would prevent a wood sprite from collecting a magical object.

“Did you offend him?”

“I would never be that foolish.” Justin’s jaw knotted with tension. “No. The Prince is either attempting to unnerve me in the hopes of increasing the price of his goods, or he has gone into hiding.”

“Why would a fairy go into hiding?”

“A good question.”

A silence descended as they both considered the varied, and assuredly unpleasant, possibilities.

“So what do you intend to do?” she asked.

“Make him an offer so tempting that he cannot resist meeting with me.” Justin shot her a searching gaze. “Speaking of which, have you managed to have a peek at Lord Treadwell’s new collection, my dear?”

She waved a dismissive hand. It had taken less than a quarter hour to search through the Grecian collection that was currently being displayed in Lord Treadwell’s Picture Gallery.

Not only were the badly chipped statues and pieces of pottery lacking any hint of magic, but she suspected they were outright frauds, without the least amount of historical or artistic value.

“Rubbish.”

Justin cast a jaundiced glance toward the looming mansion. “Not entirely unexpected, but still a pity. Perhaps we shall have greater luck at the Stonevilles’ soiree.”

“Did Lord Stoneville purchase new artifacts?”

“No, but the rumor at the gentlemen’s club is that he’s recently taken on a young and very beautiful mistress.”

She frowned in confusion. “What interest could we possibly have in his mistress?”

A knowing smile curved Justin’s mouth. “The old goat must be eighty if he’s a day. If he is managing to keep up with a female a quarter of his age, then he must have some magical trinket to—”

“Yes, I comprehend your meaning,” Juliet interrupted, shuddering at the unfortunate image.

Far less squeamish, Justin held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Chapter Two

Two nights later, Juliet was seated on a Chippendale sofa with cabriole legs and threadbare brocade cushions that was tucked beneath the small window. God alone knew how long ago it had been relegated to the attics, but Levet had done his best to beat away the dust and cobwebs. He had also managed to clear enough space among the forgotten trunks and family portraits to place two wooden chairs around a small scrolled table in an appearance of a dining room.

The tiny gargoyle was astonishingly domesticated and complained bitterly (and far too often) at being forced to reside in the cramped, grimy attics.

As far as Levet was concerned, he should be inhabiting rooms at Versailles.

At the moment, however, amusement shimmered in the gray eyes and the delicate wings fluttered as he laughed at Juliet’s tale of her daring burglary of the valuable crystal that held the tears of a fertility god, while Justin had kept the ancient Lord Stoneville distracted.

“You are certain it was a Damanica?” the gargoyle demanded, his French accent pronounced.

“Without a doubt.” Juliet shrugged. “Justin is currently attempting to lure the wood sprites out of hiding with it.”

Levet laughed again. “Pathetic. Do English wood sprites have no stamina? No manly vigor? Sacre bleu. They must be like fish left out of the water.” He wiggled his hand. “Flop, flop, flop—”

“Levet,” Juliet hastily interrupted.

“Ah, pardon, ma belle.” The sensitive gargoyle was instantly contrite. “I forget what a delicate flower you are.”

“Delicate flower?” Juliet snorted. “Hardly that. I am a thief and a liar, and I sell my services to keep a roof over my head. Many would claim I am no better than a common whore.”