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Conquer the Darkness Page 20


  “We’ll send them a gift basket.” Planting his hands flat on the mattress, Ulric lowered his head to press his mouth between her breasts. “One after each litter.”

  “Litter?”

  He laughed at the shock in her voice. Then the sensation of her satiny soft skin beneath his lips drove all thought from his mind.

  “Spring mist,” he whispered, kissing a slow, lingering path down her body.

  She lifted her head off the pillow. “What do you mean by litters?”

  “Mmm.” Ulric tugged her legs apart. “Weren’t you just complaining about too much talking and not enough action?”

  Her lips parted, but before she could continue her argument, he turned his head to nuzzle the soft skin of her inner thigh.

  She made a strangled sound, flopping back on the pillow. Ulric was going to take that as a yes, please.

  Nipping at her tender flesh, Ulric teased and tormented her until Rainn reached down to position him at the spot that ached for his touch.

  Ulric chuckled. “Bossy.”

  “Desperate,” she rasped.

  “Good.”

  Satisfaction warmed his heart. He wanted her desperate for his touch. He wanted her trembling and melting and begging…

  Slipping his hands beneath her bare butt, he tilted her hips toward his mouth. Then, breathing deeply of her sweetness, he licked through her moist slit.

  Rainn’s hands moved to clench the patchwork quilt. Her breath rasped loudly in the silence as Ulric devoured her with a steady rhythm.

  Lust thundered through him. Along with something else.

  Power.

  Even more power than he had before Rainn had accepted him as her mate.

  Intoxicated by the sensations cascading through him, Ulric delved his tongue deep into her body. Rainn groaned her approval, moving against his tongue as he lapped at her with increasing urgency.

  But even as she neared her climax, he could sense her holding back.

  “Ulric, I want you with me,” she breathed.

  He shuddered with longing. Yes. He ached to be deep inside her.

  Scattering kisses over the soft curve of her stomach, Ulric made his way back up her body. He paused to taste the temptation of her rosy nipples. Using his tongue, he teased the tips to tight points of need.

  Mmm. His wolf growled in delight. She tasted…right. His glorious mate.

  He lifted his head to simply cherish the sight of her lying beneath him.

  Her hair fanned from her face, the strands as glossy as a raven’s wing against the white pillow. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were smoky with primitive hunger.

  Then, with a mysterious smile, she reached to curl her fingers around his erection. Ulric jerked as pleasure blasted through him.

  “It’s my turn to play,” she murmured.

  Keeping her touch frustratingly light, Rainn traced the quivering length of his cock. Ulric’s back arched in a silent demand for more.

  He forgot the evil darkness that lurked just outside the cottage. And the knowledge that Rainn had offered her heart, but not her future.

  Right now, there was nothing but his female, and the soul-shattering pleasure of her touch.

  “You’re killing me, my love.” The words were forced through his clenched teeth.

  “I’m just getting started,” she murmured.

  Her fingers glided to the tip of his cock, exploring the crown before moving back down. Ulric forgot how to breathe as she continued to stroke him. Up and down. Her touch as soft as a summer breeze.

  “Enough,” he finally rasped, reaching down to gently tug her hand away. “You can play later.”

  She smiled, clearly pleased by her bewitching power over him.

  “Not such a big, bad wolf after all,” she teased.

  Ulric lowered his head to nip at her bottom lip. He wasn’t bothered by her taunt. He fully intended to have the last laugh.

  Settling between her legs, Ulric claimed her mouth in a sizzling kiss. Rainn moaned and twined her arms around his neck. The movement pressed her soft breasts against his chest and allowed the top of his cock to slide into the entrance of her body.

  The last thread of Ulric’s control snapped.

  He had to have her.

  Now.

  Fiercely reminding himself she was considerably smaller than he was, Ulric pressed his erection deeper into her silken heat. She sighed, her legs lifting to wrap around his waist.

  Heat spiked through him. Nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing.

  With a groan, he started to move. Slow and steady, then faster and faster.

  Beneath him the wind whirled like a tiny tornado. Something shattered. Maybe a window. And then a chair smashed into the fireplace.

  Rainn’s power.

  The furious tempest was echoed inside Ulric as the pressure of his looming climax clenched his muscles. He was close. So close. Still, he continued to pump deep inside her, waiting until she cried out in ecstasy before he at last crested in one explosive burst of bliss.

  A howl was ripped from his throat as the orgasm roared through him. Then, bending his head, he allowed his fangs to lengthen before he was sinking them into the tender flesh of her throat.

  The bite would heal, but she would carry his mark for the rest of eternity.

  Mine.

  Chapter 18

  Levet nervously paced from one end of the treasure room to the other. Inga had been gone forever. Or at least it felt like forever.

  Where was she? Had she changed her mind? Non. Levet shook his head. He’d seen that stubborn expression on her face before. It meant that nothing was going to stop her from charging into danger.

  He couldn’t even hope that she was busy gathering her royal guards. Inga hadn’t been raised as a queen who depended on others to willingly bow and scrape and rush to do her bidding. She had survived her grim life by taking care of herself.

  Levet spun on his heel and marched back across the room. He barely noticed the piles of gems and stacks of gold. Instead he brooded on what could have distracted the ogress.

  Or who.

  Troy had disappeared shortly after Inga. Was it possible he was responsible for her tardiness? The thought burned like acid through Levet.

  What was wrong with him? It was almost as if he was jealous. Which was ridiculous, of course. Completely locomotive.

  He was Levet.

  The Prince Charming of gargoyles.

  The ladies adored him. And he adored them. But he didn’t allow his heart to become involved. After all, there were plenty of mermaids in the sea.

  He was still brooding on his stupid fear that Troy was keeping Inga entertained when the ogress stomped into the room.

  Levet’s breath caught in his throat. She was always an impressive sight. Now she was magnificent.

  Her gown had been replaced with the mer-folk’s strange, pliable armor. The small, overlapping scales were as tough as steel and shimmered with an iridescent rainbow of colors beneath the muted fairy lights. She’d scrubbed the makeup from her face and combed the curls from her fiery tufts of hair. In her hand, she proudly clutched the mighty Tryshu.

  A glorious warrior preparing to go into battle.

  It wasn’t until Levet waddled toward her that he noticed the color staining her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded, inwardly promising to throttle Troy if he’d upset this female.

  Inga ground her pointed teeth together. “I don’t understand why my guards insist on treating me like I’m some delicate flower.”

  Ah. She hadn’t been with Troy.

  Something that might have been relief flowed through Levet.

  “You are their queen,” he reminded the ogress. “It is their duty to protect you.”

  She snorted. “I’m a gro
wn demon who can make my own decisions. I don’t need them fussing over me while I’m putting on my armor. Or trying to convince me I’m supposed to sit on the throne, twiddling my thumbs, while they decide what threats are worthy of the mer-folk’s attention.”

  “They will eventually learn that you are not the twiddling type.”

  “I most certainly am not.”

  Levet studied her flushed face and the hint of crimson in her eyes. Inga might be half mermaid, but right now she was full-on, pissed-off ogress.

  “Did you injure any of them?”

  “Nothing serious.” Inga hunched a shoulder. “One guard tried to block me from leaving my rooms. And another threatened to contact Rimm. They will heal.”

  Levet started to wince in sympathy for the hapless warriors who had no doubt been pulverized by Inga, only to find himself distracted by the familiar name.

  “Rimm is still alive?” he demanded in surprise. Rimm had been Riven’s most loyal servant.

  Inga nodded. “He’s the captain of my royal guards.”

  “I thought you planned to kill him.”

  Inga glanced away, as if hiding her expression. “I did, but my mother convinced me that a male capable of such unwavering loyalty to the throne was worth keeping.”

  Levet parted his lips to protest, only to snap them shut. He was not the most insightful demon. In truth, he found it difficult to comprehend the complex emotions that tormented so many demons. His own were less complicated.

  If he was alive, it was a good day. Or rather, a good night.

  But with surprising ease, he realized why Inga had allowed Rimm to stay on as the captain of her guards. The male hadn’t been devoted to Riven. Just the opposite. But he’d been devoted to his people, and to performing his duty to the best of his ability.

  That’s exactly what Inga had been doing when she’d agreed to help Riven hold Tarak as a prisoner. She’d been a victim of the merman’s evil manipulations.

  No doubt her decision to offer Rimm forgiveness was a silent plea for her own past to be absolved.

  “Your mother sounds like a wise female,” he assured the ogress.

  “Yes.”

  Levet cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. The reminder of Inga’s painful past only intensified his urgency to rattle some sense into her thick skull. “Now about this foolish journey—”

  “Shit.”

  With amazing speed for a female her size, Inga spun in a half circle and headed toward the door.

  Levet blinked in shock. Had he offended her? Non. He had said far worse things to her without her storming away.

  He waited for her to explain, but without even glancing back at him, Inga left the room and hurried down the corridor.

  “Wait.” Levet scrambled to follow her. Something that would have been a lot easier if she didn’t have legs that were far longer than they needed to be. “You are not going without me,” he called out. She turned the corner and headed up a pair of wide stairs. “Inga, did you hear me?”

  “I’m not leaving yet,” she muttered.

  They climbed two flights of stairs, racing toward the private wing of the castle. Levet’s concern was drowned by confusion. “Then where are you going?”

  “Waverly’s rooms.”

  They dashed down the wide hallway lined with brilliant frescoes and marble columns. More than one guard appeared to investigate the sound of running footsteps, only to duck out of the way. Anyone stupid enough to get in the path of a charging ogress deserved to be squashed like a bug.

  “Is Waverly here?” he asked.

  “I can’t tell. I felt something.” Inga gave a frustrated shake of her head. “But it’s muffled.”

  They skidded to a halt in front of the heavy wooden door. Inga tilted her head to the side, listening for any sound that would indicate the young mermaid had returned. Silence. Inga frowned, lifting her hand.

  “Wait, Inga,” Levet rasped, grabbing Inga’s arm.

  Making a sound of impatience, she glared down at him. “What?”

  Levet glanced toward the door. He wasn’t afraid. He was a hero with nerves of…Well, he couldn’t remember what they were supposed to be made of, but they ensured he was never scared. But he’d survived on his instincts for centuries. He wasn’t going to ignore the unease that was prickling over his skin like a nasty rash.

  “Are you sure we should rush in without allowing your guards to check it out first?” he asked.

  Inga glanced down at him, something that might have been disappointment in her eyes. “Not you too?”

  Levet squeezed her arm. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he would say or do whatever necessary to keep her from rushing into danger.

  “I am just suggesting we not be overly hasty,” he assured her. “Once we know what is inside, then you can go in and kill it with your big fork.”

  She shook her head. “We can’t wait. I need to make sure there’s nothing that’s going to harm my people.” She sent Levet a stern frown. “Stay behind me.”

  Levet sniffed in outrage. He did not cower behind females. “Hey.”

  Inga waved the Tryshu. “Who has the big fork?”

  Levet grimaced. No arguing with that.

  Returning her attention to the door, Inga was reaching toward the knob when there was a tingle of magic, quickly followed by a warm, salty scent. Levet turned to watch as a portal formed in the center of the hallway and Waverly stepped out.

  “Inga, stop,” the young mermaid called out.

  Freezing in place, Inga glanced over her shoulder. “Waverly?”

  “What are you doing here?” Levet demanded. The female was supposed to be helping Ulric escape.

  A tall, dark-haired vampire stepped out of the portal, lowering the temperature as he glared at Levet. “I could ask you the same question. You were supposed to find the book.”

  Levet sniffed. He was happy enough to see Waverly, but she could have left her walking-dead mate in Ireland. “I did find it,” he announced.

  Tarak looked caught off guard by Levet’s response. “Where?”

  “Not now,” Inga snapped, pointing the Tryshu at the nearby door. “I sense something entered your rooms,” she said to Waverly.

  The mermaid nodded. “Yes, I know. I sent her there.”

  Inga looked confused. “Her?”

  “Brigette,” Waverly said.

  Levet’s unease solidified into fear. “Bad Brigette?”

  “Yeah. Only now she’s badder than before.” Waverly shuddered. With lightning speed Tarak had moved to wrap a protective arm around her shoulders. “She’s been infected with Zella’s poison.”

  Inga huffed out a shocked breath. “She’s infected and you brought her here?”

  “She’s trapped in the safe room that my father created when he built the castle,” Waverly said in soothing tones. “There’s no way for her or her toxin to escape.”

  Inga glanced toward the door, her jaws clenched. “You’re sure?”

  Waverly moved to place her back against the wall, as if she was on guard duty.

  “I’ll keep watch until we know that Zella is destroyed,” she assured her queen. “Then we can move her to the dungeons.”

  Inga remained unconvinced. “And what if Zella isn’t destroyed?”

  Tarak took a position next to his mate. “Then Brigette will be the least of our concerns.”

  A bleak silence followed his words. The thought of a world covered by the nasty fog was enough to make Levet’s heart sink to his toes.

  “We will stop her,” Levet said, his tone not as certain as he wanted it to be.

  As if sensing his dark warning was threatening to paralyze them with fear, Tarak glanced toward Levet. “Tell me about the book.”

  For once, Levet didn’t bristle at the commanding tone. He was as eage
r as the vampire to concentrate on how they could defeat the darkness rather than the nightmare awaiting them if they failed. “It was written by various demons who all warned of a corruption of magic,” he said.

  Tarak and Waverly exchanged a glance.

  “We saw it for ourselves.” Waverly’s face paled, her eyes darkening with revulsion at the memory. “It was horrifying.”

  Levet didn’t ask for details. His fleeting brush with Zella had been enough.

  “It also revealed an ancient dragon symbol that translates to ‘a doorway that isn’t a doorway,’” he continued.

  “Doorway?” Tarak appeared disappointed by the explanation. No doubt he was hoping for step-by-step directions to defeat the darkness. “The one in Ulric’s village?”

  “Non. This one is under the ocean,” Levet said.

  Tarak glared at Levet, as if it was entirely his fault that the book hadn’t provided the answers they needed.

  “Then why is the creature holding Ulric captive in the burrow?”

  Levet snapped his wings. “How should I know?”

  “I’m about to find out,” Inga announced, halting the brewing squabble.

  Tarak reluctantly shifted his attention to the ogress. “How?”

  Inga jutted her chin. “I’m going to find the doorway that’s not a doorway.”

  “You know where it is?” the vampire demanded.

  “There’s a fresco in the treasure room that has the same symbol that we found in the book,” Inga revealed. “There are also two dragons sealing a door shut with their fire.”

  “Oh.” Waverly widened her eyes. “I remember seeing that painting. I thought the dragons were fighting.”

  “Me too,” Inga admitted. “But if we believe the book, then it suggests they were holding back the darkness. I need to find the doorway and see if it’s been opened.”

  Waverly stepped away from the door, reaching out to grasp Inga’s hand. At a glance the two females couldn’t look more different. Waverly was a typical mermaid: a slender, golden beauty with the long, pale hair that was tinted with blue. Inga was…Inga. A massive warrior with the features of an ogress.

  But they possessed the same soft, salty scent and the aura of ruthless determination. These were two females who’d sacrificed everything for their people in the past. And would do so again if necessary.