Burned by Darkness Read online

  At last she sent him a wary frown. “Where are we?”

  “My treasure vault,” he drawled, his voice cold. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  She flinched, wrapping her arms around her waist. “You don’t intend to leave me here, do you?”

  “Why not?” he growled. “I tried to offer you a pleasant home, but you preferred to be treated as my property.” He nodded toward a stack of gold bars. “This is where I keep my spoils of war.”

  “Baine—”

  “I’ll return when I have need of you,” he rudely interrupted, heading toward the nearby entrance.

  “No.” Tayla hurried behind him. “Please wait.”

  Ignoring her plea, he walked out and slammed the door behind him. Dammit, he wasn’t going to feel guilty.

  Or lonely.

  Or…

  “My lord.”

  With a blink, Baine realized the guard who stood on perpetual duty in front of the door to his treasure room was regarding him with blatant concern.

  Deliberately he studied the young male who was a half-breed like Char, although he had short black hair and eyes that were a brilliant blue.

  “Torque.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  Make sure no one is allowed near the door,” he commanded. “I don’t care who they are. Only I’m allowed inside.”

  The younger male blinked in confusion. It was the same order every guard received when they were given the duty of protecting his hoard. There was no actual need for Baine to repeat himself.

  “Of course,” he murmured.

  “And alert me at once if my father makes an unexpected appearance,” he continued.

  The guard nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  Baine still hesitated, feeling oddly uneasy at leaving Tayla.

  It wasn’t exactly fear. After all, there was no one who could possibly enter his treasure room. Not only was it constantly guarded, but it was wrapped in spells that made sure only he could form portals inside it.

  No. It was more a feeling of…unease.

  As if he turned his back on the beautiful imp she might slip away.

  With a shake of his head at his ridiculous imaginings, Baine forced himself to walk to his private rooms. There was no way in hell that Tayla was escaping.

  “Char,” he called out, using his mental ties with his loyal servant to open a portal.

  Seconds later the half-dragon stepped into the room that was filled with bookcases and deeply cushioned chairs. With his short silver hair brushed from his lean face, and wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks, he looked like an overly pampered tourist who traveled the world in search of excitement. As long as one didn’t get too close to the heat that pumped from his sleekly muscled body or caught sight of the storm clouds that swirled through his eyes.

  “This is a surprise,” the younger male drawled, studying Baine with a raised brow.

  Baine moved to pour himself a large glass of his finest brandy.

  “What is?”

  “I didn’t expect to see you out of bed for a month,” Char happily explained. “Why aren’t you with your lovely imp?”

  A good question.

  “She is…”

  “Beautiful?” Char suggested. “Sexy? Irresistible?”

  All three, he silently acknowledged.

  Out loud he said, “Aggravating.”

  Char shrugged. “She’s a woman. She’s supposed to be aggravating.”

  Baine swallowed the brandy in one gulp, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. Damn. Even with her locked away he felt as if she was glaring at him from the shadows.

  “She is doing an excellent job,” he muttered, narrowing his gaze as Char gave a sharp laugh. “What’s so amusing?”

  “I have never seen you so twisted over a female.”

  Smoke curled from his flared nose. “Twisted?”

  Char gave a lift of his hands. “What would you call it?”

  “A pain in the ass,” he growled, still rubbing his neck. What the hell? The female imp had clearly rattled his mind. “Did you locate the trolls?”

  Char hesitated, as if considering continuing the very dangerous game of teasing his master. Then, easily sensing that Baine was at the edge of his patience, he allowed his smile to fade.

  “I did,” he said in brisk tones. “I followed the trail from your female’s lair to a spot just a mile away.”

  Tiny flames flickered over Baine’s skin. Just the thought of the trolls lurking near Tayla’s home was enough to make the beast inside him roar with the lust to burn them to ashes.

  “They’re keeping watch on the house,” he said, his expression grim. “That was only to be expected.”

  Char gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

  Baine set aside his empty glass. “There’s more?”

  “I found a portal near the edge of their camp.”

  A portal? Baine hissed in shock. “Imp?”

  “Fairy.”

  Well that was…unexpected. What the hell would a fairy be doing with a troll? The two species hated each other. Just one more baffling question on a very long list.

  “Did you follow it?” he demanded.

  “I did.”

  Baine made a rough sound of impatience. Since when did getting information from Char become worse than pulling fucking teeth? And why did his neck continue to prickle like he was being watched?

  His sour mood became downright pissy.

  “And?” he snapped.

  “It led to an abandoned castle on the border of Norway,” the younger male revealed.

  Baine held out his hand, waiting for the rolled up map to appear. Then, moving to the desk, he spread it across the flat surface.

  “Show me,” he ordered.

  Char was swiftly at his side, pointing toward an isolated spot.

  “Here.”

  Baine studied the rough terrain. Not the sort of place that would attract most fey.

  “A troll stronghold?”

  “No.” Char gave an emphatic shake of his head. “I couldn’t do a thorough sweep of the area, but I suspect they’re assassins.”

  Baine tapped a slender finger on the desk. From what he knew of the ruthless mercenaries, they charged a fortune. Unless they were desperate, few demons were willing to pay the price.

  “Since when have the trolls started to hire assassins?”

  “I don’t have a clue.” Char shrugged. “But it has to have something to do with your imp.”

  Baine felt his heart skip a beat. And not in a good way.

  It was bad enough that the trolls and his father were weirdly interested in Tayla. The last thing he needed was a group of assassins joining the madness.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Less than an hour ago, a mongrel fairy along with Skragg made an appearance at the castle.”

  Baine narrowed his gaze. Skragg was the troll who’d originally offered Tayla to his father.

  “Could you hear what they were saying?”

  “No, but I did catch sight of their prisoners.”

  “Prisoners? Who were they?”

  “A male imp who goes by the name Odel, and a miniature gargoyle.”

  Baine released a frustrated hiss. He should have known Odel would be up to his neck in trouble. The idiot was born to be an anchor around Baine’s neck.

  “Why would—” Baine bit off his words as there was a wrenching sense of loss that nearly sent him to his knees. “Shit,” he breathed, pressing a hand to the center of his chest.

  It took a second to realize what the aching emptiness meant. No surprise. Never in his very long life had he been so connected to a female that he could actually feel her deep inside him.

  Only Tayla had ever accomplished that alarming feat.

  Flames danced over his skin as Baine stalked out of his private rooms and down the hallway. Swiftly, Char was next to him, his eyes darting from side to side as if searching for an enemy to slay.

  “What the hell is
going on?” the younger male demanded.

  “She’s gone,” Baine snarled, his pace never slowing as they headed directly for his treasure room.

  Char frowned in confusion. “Tayla?”

  Something that might have been pain sliced through Baine’s chest.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Unless someone assisted her departure,” he pointed out, halting in front of the guard. “Torque,” he barked.

  The male flinched, ogling Baine’s flames that had intensified to a pure white heat. Hot enough to singe a half-breed.

  “Yes, my lord?”

  Baine stepped forward. “Did I not make my orders clear?”

  The male gave a jerky nod. “Crystal clear.”

  “Then why did you open the door?”

  Torque paled. “I didn’t.”

  Baine scowled. The young soldier wasn’t an idiot. He would have to know that lying to his master was a certain death sentence.

  “Someone must have entered the treasure room,” he snapped, assuming there must be yet another traitor.

  “No, my lord. No one has come in or out,” the young man insisted. “I swear.”

  Muttering a curse, Baine stepped past the sweating guard and shoved open the door.

  Together with Char he entered the room and made a quick search among the piles of treasures. Not that it was necessary. The emptiness that continued to throb in the center of his being was enough to tell him Tayla was gone.

  “You left her in here?” Char asked, as if Baine had somehow forgotten where he’d stashed the beautiful imp.

  “Yes.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Baine snapped, the beast inside him desperate to get out and hunt down the female who he considered his own. Pacing around a large chest filled with precious rubies, he came to an abrupt halt. “Here,” he muttered, bending down to touch the floor. He could feel the magic that lingered from a powerful spell. “A portal.”

  Char made a strangled sound of disbelief. “No demon can create a portal into the treasure room of a dragon.”

  “Clearly one did,” Baine muttered, even as he silently agreed with his companion.

  There was no way any creature should have been capable of creating an opening into his lair. Let alone into this heavily spelled area. It was simply inconceivable.

  Sifting through the threads of magic, he released a startled breath. The portal had been made by an imp.

  “Tayla.” With an abrupt movement Baine was straightening, his brows snapping together. None of it made sense. Not unless… “Shit.” Baine shook his head, wondering how the hell he could have been so blind. “That’s it.”

  Char moved to stand at his side. “What’s it?”

  “I’ve been an idiot.” Baine slashed his hand through the air, ripping open a portal that would allow him to follow his aggravating female. “Let’s go.”

  ###

  Tayla wondered what’d happened to her.

  For years and years, she’d been a sober, hardworking business owner who kept a low profile and avoided any risk.

  Now she was clearly suicidal.

  What else would explain her refusal to wait in Baine’s treasure room as she’d been commanded?

  She had, after all, promised to pay her father’s debt. In fact, she’d rubbed in her acceptance of her duty to the point that she’d actually managed to hurt Baine’s pride. A knowledge that oddly filled her with an aching regret.

  But while she might have asked for his angry reaction, she’d refused to remain in his hoard simply waiting for him to seek her out when he decided he wanted her back in his bed. They needed to talk. She needed to explain that…

  Well, she wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but she wasn’t going to wait around to say it.

  So, she’d opened a portal to follow him, only to overhear his conversation with Char.

  She’d briefly forgotten her tangled emotions, her annoyance with Baine, and even her fear at being discovered by the trolls. Levet and her father were in danger.

  She had to do something to save them.

  Memorizing the spot Char had pointed to on the map, she’d formed a portal to the mountainous castle. No surprise that it’d been an ugly gray monstrosity that served as an impenetrable fortress. Her luck wasn’t good enough for her destination to be an elegant spa where she could have a nice facial and massage after she’d managed to rescue Odel.

  Creeping as close to the sixteen-foot stone walls as she dared, she’d created another portal that opened into the lowest level of the inner tower.

  Then, terrified she was going to be caught at any second, she’d crept through the dark dungeons until she at last caught the unmistakable scent of granite.

  Levet.

  Glancing around to make sure there were no guards nearby, she found a piece of wire that’d been dropped on the ground and quickly picked the heavy lock. Her father hadn’t taught her much over the years, but he had insisted she know how to spot counterfeit money, how to cry on cue, and how to pick a lock.

  None of it had been of any use.

  Until this moment.

  As quietly as possible, she pushed the heavy door open, her choking fear easing as the tiny demon jumped off the narrow cot and waddled toward her.

  “Mon dieu,” Levet breathed, his wings quivering with shock. “How did you get in here?”

  Tayla frowned. Had the poor thing been dropped on his head? How did he think an imp had managed to enter a heavily guarded troll stronghold?

  “I made a portal.” She spoke slowly. Just in case his brain was addled.

  Levet blinked. “Here?”

  Yep. It had to be a blow to the head.

  “Why not?”

  “There is a layer of dampening magic wrapped around the castle,” the gargoyle pointed out, staring at her as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “I have been unable to produce so much as a fireball.”

  Tayla shrugged. “As I have said, I have a talent for creating portals. My father said that I inherited the gift from my mother.”

  Abruptly distracted, the tiny demon wrinkled his snout. “Ah oui, your father.”

  Tayla swallowed a sigh. She was accustomed to that tone of aversion whenever anyone spoke of Odel.

  “How did you meet?”

  Levet gave a lift of his hands. “I went in search of him.”

  “Why?”

  “It was the only way I could think to save you from the dragon.”

  “Oh.” Tayla’s throat tightened as tears filled her eyes. For as long as she could remember, she’d been expected to be the adult. She protected her father from the endless collectors who showed up on their doorstep, and ensured he made it to his bed when he’d indulged in too much nectar. No one had ever thought that she might need to be rescued. “That’s so sweet.”

  “Sacrebleu.” Levet rubbed his stunted horn, his tail twitching around his feet. “You are not going to cry, are you?”

  She sniffed, battling back the tears. “It’s just…no one has ever wanted to save me before.”

  Reaching out, Levet gently patted her hand. “I did not do a very bang-bang job, did I?”

  Tayla’s lips twitched. Only Levet could make her laugh in the middle of a dark, dank dungeon that reeked of troll.

  “Bang-up?” she corrected.

  “Oui.” Levet heaved a small sigh. “I had intended to bring Odel to the dragon in exchange for you, but I barely had time to locate him in a London pub when a strange fairy appeared along with a troll.”

  Tayla gave her friend a pat on the head in gratitude before turning her thoughts to her father’s latest disaster.

  It was rare for a fey to be working with a troll. The two species hated each other.

  “Did they say why they wanted my father?” she inquired.

  Levet muttered something that sounded like a French cuss word.

  “Non, but it is not difficult to
guess.”

  Tayla wrinkled her nose. There was only one reason anyone would actually go out of their way to find her father.

  “He owes them money, doesn’t he?” she demanded with a sigh.

  Levet’s wings fluttered, his hands pressing against her legs. Almost as if he was trying to herd her toward the open cell door.

  “No doubt he does, but that is not the reason they brought him to this isolated castle.”

  She allowed herself to be pushed out of the cell. “Then why?”

  “It is a trap, ma belle. That is the only reasonable explanation.” The ugly little face was tense with an increasing concern. “You have to get out of here.”

  He was right.

  It was too great a coincidence to have trolls hunting her and then for her father to be snatched by one. It had to be connected.

  Still, she’d come to the castle with a purpose.

  “Not without you,” she muttered, reaching down to grab Levet’s arm. “Or my father.”

  “Tayla.” Levet scurried to keep up, his tail sticking straight out behind him. “Wait.”

  She shook her head, turning down a narrow tunnel as she sniffed the air for her father’s scent.

  “We need to hurry,” she muttered.

  Levet tugged at her hand. “Stop.”

  She grudgingly came to a halt to study her companion with blatant impatience.

  The tunnel was grimy, dark, and the walls were slick with mold. Not to mention the fact that her presence was going to be noticed any second.

  Now didn’t seem a good time to stand around and chat.

  “Why?”

  Levet’s wings drooped. “Your father.”

  Tayla sucked in a sharp breath. “He isn’t hurt, is he?”

  “Non.” The wings drooped even lower. “He is the sort who always manages to walk away from a disaster unscathed.”

  “I suppose he does,” Tayla agreed. Odel made sure he survived. No matter what the cost. “So what’s wrong?”

  Levet hesitated before heaving a noisy sigh. “I do not believe your father is worth risking your life.”

  “Oh.” Tayla bit her lip. She knew Levet was genuinely concerned for her. Which was really quite wonderful. But she’d spent her entire life taking care of Odel. She couldn’t just walk away when she knew he was in trouble. “He’s my father.”