Charred by Darkness Read online

  Tayla sucked in a shocked breath. “You didn’t.”

  Levet thrust out his lower lip in an aggrieved pout. “I merely wished to see how much an enterprising demon might get for the thing,” he said. The ancient weapon had just been hanging on the wall in Styx’s lair. It wasn’t as if he was using the thing. “It was quite astonishing. I could be a very wealthy gargoyle if Styx was not such a selfish creature.”

  Tayla rolled her eyes. “You must have a death wish.”

  “Non, I do not,” Levet assured her. “Which is why I prefer to avoid the vampires until their tempers cool.” He considered a minute. “Perhaps in a few centuries.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Char had always prided himself on his ability to roll with the punches.

  What choice did he have? From the time he was very young, he’d understood his life as a half-breed dragon meant he would be controlled by others. First his father had bartered him to Synge to repay a debt. And then Synge had offered him to his son, Baine, as a personal guard.

  But while other males might have resented their fate, Char had decided to embrace what he was given.

  He might be a servant, but by the time he’d arrived in Baine’s lair, he’d already developed an easy charm that made him a favorite among the other warriors. And, of course, it didn’t hurt that he was capable of shape-shifting into an elegant male with sculpted features, pale silver-blond hair and gray eyes that sparkled with humor.

  The female dragons were usually eager to ensure that he never felt as if he was less than equal to any other male.

  His luck had continued over the years, as he’d developed a relationship with Baine that went way beyond master and servant. The two males were as close as any brothers. But still Char had remained prepared to adapt to the inevitable changes in his life.

  And they’d arrived.

  Baine had found his mate. A lovely imp, who would no doubt start producing babies. And unlike most dragons, Baine would be a doting father who didn’t sell his offspring to the highest bidder.

  Char wasn’t sure what that would mean for his own place in the household, but it was certain to be different.

  Still, it was all good. He was a guy who understood how to adapt and overcome.

  Until this moment.

  Right now he didn’t know what the hell was happening.

  One minute he was standing next to Blayze’s bed, and the next, the world around them was fading to black.

  Just for a second, he thought he must be dying. What else could explain the encroaching darkness and the sensation that the floor had disappeared and he was floating through space?

  It wasn’t a portal. He’d traveled through hundreds of them in his long life. He’d even visited Hades on a dare from Baine—a journey he never intended to take again.

  But this was different. He felt as if he was melting along with the room, his very being dissolving into nothingness.

  He couldn’t tell how long he drifted in the nothingness before the world once again became solid.

  It was almost as disconcerting as the melting.

  One minute he was weightless, and the next his feet were hitting a marble floor with enough force to send him to his knees. He grunted in pain, his mind scrambling to clear out the fog.

  It was still dark, but it was the darkness of natural shadows, not…well, whatever had surrounded him before.

  Holding up his hand, he allowed flames to dance over his skin as he cautiously rose to his feet.

  He was in a large octagonal chamber. It looked similar in size and shape to the room he’d just been zapped out of, only it wasn’t lavishly decorated. At least not yet.

  Glancing around he could see the domed ceiling was in the process of being covered with priceless golden tiles, while the heavy furniture and tapestries were carefully stowed in the corners of the space.

  What was going on? Was this some sort of illusion meant to deceive his eyes?

  On the point of moving toward the door on the far wall, he came to a sharp halt as he caught sight of an object lying on the stone floor.

  No. Not an object.

  Blayze.

  Shit. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might have been sucked up in the same magic that was affecting him. Stupid, of course. Why would anyone go to the effort of wasting their power on him? He was just a servant.

  But Blayze…

  She was priceless.

  Not only was she a rare, pureblood female dragon, but she was the daughter of Synge. One of the most powerful dragons in all the worlds.

  With a blur of motion he was moving to kneel at her side, studying her delicately carved features.

  The slender nose, the full lips that were the color of summer roses. The pale, creamy skin that sharply contrasted with the ebony darkness of her hair that spilled across the stone floor in a river of silk.

  Just like the first time he’d seen her lying unconscious in her bed, the sight of her punched him in the gut with stunning force.

  It wasn’t her beauty. Dragons better than any other creature understood the outer shell was meaningless. They could alter their shape on a whim.

  No, it was her inner essence that reached out to touch the dragon within him.

  Char grimaced, squashing his renegade blast of awareness.

  This female was destined to become the mate of a powerful, pureblood dragon. The only reason he’d even been allowed close to her was because Synge had been desperate to slow time until they could find a way to break the curse that had been placed on her when she was just a hatchling…

  Char hissed in shock. The web of magic he’d spread over Blayze had been disrupted when the darkness had filled the room. So why couldn’t he sense her curse?

  “Blayze?” Holding up his hand that still glowed with flames, he leaned forward, barely resisting the urge to brush his mouth over the soft temptation of her lips. “Blayze, can you hear me?”

  Nothing happened for a tense minute, then the long, luxuriously thick lashes slowly swept upward.

  Char felt another punch to the gut. Her eyes were magnificent.

  They were so pale they looked white, and were flecked with shimmering dots of color. Like the finest opals.

  His dragon roared in pleasure, the heat of his beast thundering through the air. Dear goddess. He’d never come so close to losing control. And he wasn’t even touching her.

  Thankfully unaware of his blistering reaction, Blayze studied him with a strange calm.

  “Who are you?”

  “Char,” he said. “I was asked by your father to protect you.”

  Her gaze wandered over his face, her nose flaring as she breathed in his scent.

  “A half-breed,” she murmured.

  Char jerked back, his bemusement shattered by an icy chill. Quite an accomplishment for a dragon who had flames dancing through his veins.

  “I prefer to be called Char, not half-breed,” he said in clipped tones.

  She continued to study him, either indifferent to his irritation or just oblivious to it. “What is your magic?”

  “My mother is a Dalia demon.”

  “Dalia.” She tested the name on her tongue before she gave a slow nod. “You stopped time.”

  “Technically, I just slowed it,” he corrected.

  “It was enough.”

  With a grace that marked her as a pureblood dragon, Blayze was suddenly rising from the floor. The beaded gown that she’d been wearing when she was brought back to her father’s lair rustled like a musical instrument in the silence, the scent of exotic spices teasing at his senses.

  Char straightened, stepping away from her slender body.

  “Enough for what?” he demanded.

  Blayze moved to inspect the room, although her delicate features were impossible to read in the darkness. “For me to step outside my curse long enough to concentrate.”

  Char stiffened. “You created the illusion.”

  She moved to stare at the heavy wooden chairs tha
t were pushed against the wall.

  “There is no illusion,” she said.

  Char’s irritation changed to annoyance. Okay, his dragon might be desperately in lust with the female. And there might be a strange tug of connection that was even more troubling.

  But he wasn’t her servant. And he wasn’t going to be treated as if he was.

  “Then what did you do to the room?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, her pale eyes swirling with pinpricks of color.

  “Not what. When.”

  Char scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  She continued her circuit of the room, absently stroking her fingers over a marble statue that looked as if it’d been plundered from an ancient Greek garden. It probably had.

  He remembered it sitting beside a lattice wall at the other end of the space.

  “I took us back in time.”

  Char hissed in shock. Was she serious?

  “Did you just say you took us back in time?” he demanded in disbelief.

  She moved toward the carved headboard that was a part of her bed, her brow furrowed as if she was troubled by the sight of it.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  She stared at the wall, seemingly lost in her thoughts. “I grabbed onto the threads of the curse and pulled us backward,” she answered in absent tones.

  “You pulled us backward in time by using the thread of a curse.” Char tried to wrap his brain around the mere thought.

  He’d never heard of anyone capable of moving through time. Perhaps a Jinn. Or an Elemental creature.

  But not a dragon.

  “Isn’t that what I just said?” She didn’t even bother to glance in his direction.

  Char flatted his lips. Damn Torque. If his friend hadn’t suggested that Char could help keep Blayze in stasis, Synge would never have demanded that he travel to his lair and stay with his daughter.

  He could be enjoying time with his fellow guards. Sparring in the gym. Or eating a massive meal and drinking too much nectar. Instead of standing in this dusty room, trying to squash the urge to ram his head into the nearest wall.

  “Just how far back in time did you take us?”

  She wrinkled her slender nose. “I intended to bring us to the night that my father formally celebrated my birth.”

  Char grunted in shock. He wasn’t entirely sure how old she was, and he wasn’t stupid enough to ask. But if she wasn’t completely out of her mind, then he was currently in a time before he was even born.

  The thought made his poor brain spin.

  “Listen—” He started to say, only to be interrupted when Blayze tilted back her head, her nose flaring as if she caught a sudden scent.

  “He’s here,” she murmured, rapidly heading across the floor.

  “Wait.” Char moved to stand directly in her path. “Where are you going?”

  She frowned, as if baffled by his perfectly reasonable question.

  “To find me.”

  “To find you?” Char knew he sounded like a parrot, but dammit, he’d just been tugged through time on the thread of a curse. Who could blame him for being a little rattled?

  “This is the nursery,” Blayze told him, speaking slowly as if he was especially stupid. “I need to find out why I’m not here.”

  She stepped forward, clearly expecting him to step out of her way. Typical dragon arrogance.

  Char, however, stood his ground, his expression set in stubborn lines.

  “Later,” he insisted. “First we need to discuss this.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.”

  His jaw tightened. “Humor me.”

  She sent him a glance filled with baffled frustration. “We’re wasting time.”

  Char refused to back down. “If we need more, you can always give another tug on the thread, right?”

  She stilled, easily sensing the edge in his words. “Does it bother you?”

  He released a humorless laugh. “To be whisked through a half dozen centuries? Yeah, a little.”

  “But you are capable of manipulating time.”

  Char shook his head. It took every ounce of his power to slow time for a day or two. He couldn’t imagine the magic necessary to transfer two dragons through several hundred years.

  “Not like that,” he muttered, giving a wave of his hand that was covered in flames. “But that’s not what I want to discuss.”

  Her eyes reflected his dragon-fire, emphasizing the dazzling kaleidoscope of colors.

  “Well?”

  Char released a slow breath, trying to restrain his inner beast who was desperate to reach out and stroke the pearly luster of her skin. Was it as soft as it looked?

  “Can we sit?” he abruptly demanded.

  “Char—”

  “Please.”

  With the sort of sigh that women learned in the womb, she pivoted on her heel to take a seat on one of the heavy chairs against the wall.

  “Fine.” She folded her hands in her lap and eyed him with impatience. “Tell me what you want to know.”

  Char frowned as he settled on a seat next to her. He was suddenly struck by an odd realization.

  Since they’d been jerked back through time he’d been too distracted to actually consider the fact that Blayze had spent most of her existence in hiding, completely isolated to prevent anyone from realizing that she was still alive.

  He would expect her to be confused, even terrified, at being taken out of her mother’s protective magic.

  Instead she was completely coherent and focused on her goal with an alarming intensity.

  “Tell me everything,” he commanded.

  “Excuse me?”

  He waved a hand. “Start at the beginning.”

  She sent him a puzzled glance. “What beginning?”

  “When you were cursed.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “I was too young to really understand what was happening. All I truly recall is that I was lying in my bed when I was hit with an unbearable pain.”

  “The curse?” he asked.

  “Yes. Things got very fuzzy, and the next thing I knew I was in a secluded lair and I was wrapped in my mother’s magic.”

  Char studied her in amazement. Her tone was calm, almost matter-of-fact. If his life had been destroyed by an evil curse he’d be screaming in fury.

  “You were kept asleep?”

  She glanced away, her dark hair sliding over her shoulders in a river of ebony.

  “It’s difficult to explain. The part of my mind that was compromised by the curse was kept in stasis, but my mother was able to keep our mental connection open,” she said.

  “She could communicate with you?”

  “Not only that, she allowed me to see the world through her eyes.”

  Ah. Well that would explain why she seemed so comfortable to be out of her stasis. Still, it must have been horrible. To be able to see the world and yet know you were trapped by an evil curse.

  Char felt a strange tug on his heart. Was it sympathy?

  He studied her elegant profile. “I thought she remained in hibernation with you?”

  “For the most part she did, but she was anxious to discover who cursed me,” she told him. “At least once a year she would leave me hidden in a secret lair, and try and find some clue.”

  “What did she find out?”

  “Nothing more than she already knew.” She turned back to reveal her shimmering eyes. “I was cursed on the night that my father celebrated my birth.”

  Char gave a slow nod. That made sense. Female dragons were rare. Synge no doubt had been eager to display his glorious prize.

  Blayze was worth a fortune.

  The lair would have been overflowing with guests. What better opportunity to slip into the nursery and unleash the curse?

  “She didn’t learn anything?”

  Her shoulders slumped, and Char sensed that a part of her…dimmed.

  Caught off guard, he released the flames that
danced around his fingers, allowing the shadows to return. Sure enough, a faint glow surrounded Blayze’s slender body. Like a soft halo of white light.

  His inner beast stilled, intrigued by the sight. Dragons could create fire. They could breathe it with destructive force. They could allow it to move over their skin. And mold it to use as a weapon.

  But they didn’t glow.

  This was caused by her magic. Or perhaps, her very essence.

  “No one was willing to discuss that night or who might want to punish my father,” she said in sad tones.

  Char could no longer resist temptation. Reaching out, he allowed his fingers to smooth through the warm silk of her hair, tucking the heavy strands behind her ear. Even through the darkness he could easily make out her pale features.

  He hissed in pleasure, then with an effort, he forced himself to concentrate on her words.

  “No one could help?”

  She slowly reached up to brush his fingers that lingered on her cheek. Not knocking them away, but almost as if she was trying to process the feel of his touch.

  Char abruptly wondered if he was the first male beyond her father to ever lay a hand on her.

  “Everyone claimed they hadn’t seen or heard anything,” she said.

  He frowned. Even if the lair had been stuffed from top to bottom with demons, Synge would never have left his daughter unguarded.

  Not for a second.

  “What about your father’s servants?” he demanded.

  “They swore that no one was seen going in or out of the nursery.”

  “So either they’re lying or the demon responsible for cursing you was capable of entering the nursery without being seen.”

  She nodded, her expression revealing that she’d already come to the same conclusion.

  “After centuries of waiting for my mother to find the truth, I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

  “Even though you were kept in hibernation?”

  “I had nothing else to do but study the curse,” she reminded him. “Eventually I realized that I could use my powers to follow the magic back through time. So I decided that’s what I would do.”

  Char felt a cold chill inch down his spine. He discovered he didn’t like the thought that she might have come to this place—or rather this time—without him.