Fear the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity) Read online

  Even as Dara had burned, the powerful deity had appeared as a misty shadow at his side, whispering promises of Dara’s return from the grave, all for the small price of Gaius’s soul.

  It was a trade-off that Gaius had made without a second thought. The return of his mate? Hell yes, he’d sell his soul a dozen times over. And it was a decision he hadn’t regretted, despite the long years of seclusion beyond the Veil.

  Obeying his new lord, he’d avoided attracting attention while learning the skill of shape-shifting and eventually using the medallion he’d found hidden beneath one of the fountains to mist-walk. It was the latter skill that had allowed him to escape undetected from the Veil to return to the world he’d left behind so many years ago.

  Briefly disoriented by his abrupt journey, Gaius leaned against the nearest cypress tree and struggled to regain his balance.

  He felt . . .

  Yeah. That was it.

  He felt all the things that were forgotten on the other side.

  The weight of his slender body covered by a simple robe. The summer breeze that stirred the dark strands of his hair, which he wore short and slicked from his face. Startled, he lifted a hand to touch the chilled skin of his cheek before trailing down the strong thrust of his nose, which bore the proud stamp of his days as a Roman general. Most creatures would find him handsome, he vaguely recalled, although his dark eyes remained as bleak and lifeless as the day he’d watched Dara die.

  And then he was struck by less desirable sensations.

  With a frown his fingers shifted to the fangs that suddenly throbbed at the distant scent of human blood.

  Hunger.

  And not just of the liquid variety, he angrily realized, his body hardening with a nearly forgotten ache of desire.

  Shoving away the unpleasant realization, Gaius grimly turned his attention to the secluded house that was located on the edge of the Louisiana swamp.

  Built on brick stilts, it was a large structure painted white with black shutters and a screened-in wraparound porch. The front yard was filled with large trees draped in Spanish moss that effectively hid the place from the narrow path that led to the small town.

  All in all it was the perfect place for a vampire to remain hidden.

  Which was no doubt why the Dark Lord had sent him here to wait for his next orders.

  Ignoring the humid heat and swarms of bugs that filled the air, Gaius made his way through the front gate and up the wide staircase. He stepped through the door of the porch, relieved to catch sight of the overhead fan providing a much needed breeze.

  Although he’d been on the other side of the Veil, he was well aware of the changes in this world, and after centuries of choosing a spartan existence to concentrate on his studies, he was anxious to enjoy a lair equipped with all the modern technology. Including electricity and a hot shower.

  And privacy.

  Narrowing his gaze, he belatedly realized the scent of human was coming from inside the house. And that it was drawing closer.

  His time away had made him sloppy, he chastised himself, reaching beneath his robe to withdraw the pugio—a small Roman dagger—he’d hidden among the satin folds. Then, moving with a silent speed, he shoved open the door and stepped into the shadows of the living room.

  “Who is there?” he growled, his gaze skimming over the padded bamboo chairs and couch that were scattered over the wooden floorboards.

  There was a faint rustle, then the lights tucked in the high, open-beamed ceiling were flipped on and a young female stepped into the room.

  “Me.”

  Gaius tucked away his dagger. If he decided to kill the human it would be by draining all that sweet, tempting blood.

  “Be more precise,” he commanded, his speech pattern becoming rigidly formal as his anger overcame his months of secret training to mingle among the natives.

  “Sally Grace.”

  His gaze narrowed as he studied the intruder. She might have been cute in a childish manner, with her dark hair pulled into two braids on each side of her pale, pretty face. But her brown eyes were heavily lined with makeup and her full lips painted a shocking shade of black and pierced with a gold hoop. There was a matching hoop in one brow and a dozen more along the shell of her ear.

  Worse was her strange costume.

  The scarlet corset was all that covered her tiny bosom and a tiny leather skirt was plastered to her hips. She had on leggings and high-heeled boots, but they did little more than emphasize her slender curves. She clearly had no males in her life to forbid such a shocking display of her body.

  “Why are you in my home?”

  She propped her shoulder against the doorjamb, looking far too comfortable. “Our master sent me to make sure you had everything you need for your return.”

  So, she was sent by the Dark Lord.

  Not that it made her presence any more welcome.

  “You are a housekeeper?”

  “Housekeeper?” The female straightened, her hands slapping on her hips in outrage. “Do I look like a freaking housekeeper?”

  His jaw tightened at her shrill tone. “Do not test me, female.”

  She gave a toss of her head. “I happen to be a very powerful witch. One who is favored above all of the Dark Lord’s disciples . ..”

  “A witch.” His power blasted through the air, sending the female slamming into the wall of the attached dining room. He stalked forward, his fangs exposed as he prepared to put an end to the bitch. It had been a witch who had held him powerless as his beloved mate was burned at the stake. “I detest witches.”

  Reaching the female, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and began to squeeze. He sure as hell wasn’t going to soil his tongue with her tainted blood.

  Intent on choking the life from his companion, Gaius was unprepared when her dark eyes abruptly flashed with a crimson fire.

  “Stop,” she commanded, her voice low and filled with a power that made Gaius pause in astonishment.

  Staring at her suddenly blank face, Gaius felt alarm flicker down his spine. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  Sally’s lips parted, but it wasn’t her voice coming out of her mouth. “Gaius.”

  He frowned, realizing that the power choking the air had nothing to do with the witch and everything to do with the strange being invading her body.

  “Who is here?”

  “It is your master, my beloved son.”

  Gaius narrowed his gaze, his fingers maintaining their tight grip on Sally’s neck. “Is this a trick?”

  “No trick,” the deep voice assured him. “Sally is a conduit.”

  “Conduit?”

  “Through her I am capable of speaking directly with my servants.”

  Was that supposed to be reassuring?

  Gaius grimaced. It’d been bad enough to have the Dark Lord whispering in his mind when he was meditating. To have his voice coming out of the witch’s lips was . . . what were the words used today?

  Freaking him out?

  Yeah, that was it.

  Totally freaking him out.

  Not that he was about to reveal his weakness. The Dark Lord was a pitiless monster who would destroy him the moment he suspected Gaius might not be of use to him.

  “I have no love for magic,” he rasped.

  The black lips twisted in a mocking smile. “Then we will make this swift.”

  “Very well.” Grudgingly loosening his grip on the witch, he hid his shaking hands in the folds of his black robe. “I am here as you wished.”

  “You have acquired the skills that I requested?”

  Gaius gave a dip of his head. “I am capable of altering my shape, although only for short periods of time.”

  “And the other?”

  “I was able to travel through the Veil with the medallion you left hidden on the other side.”

  “Good.” The crimson fire flickered in the female’s dark eyes. “The medallion will also allow you to enter the mists where I am trappe
d.”

  “Is that what you desire of me?” Gaius demanded, hoping his bland tone disguised his reluctance.

  He was willing to do whatever necessary to bring back his dearest Dara, but the thought of joining the Dark Lord in his hell dimension was enough to give anyone the shudders.

  “Not yet. I have a duty for you to perform before joining me.”

  He offered a bow. “I am yours to command.”

  “Yes, you are,” the dark voice purred.

  Gaius wisely ignored the taunt. “What would you have of me?”

  “A prophet has been discovered.”

  Gaius widened his eyes in shock. He’d heard the rumors, of course, but he’d dismissed them. It had been centuries since the last prophet had walked the earth.

  “A true seer?”

  “I want her brought to me,” the Dark Lord commanded. “Alive.”

  “Of course. Is she a human?”

  “A Were.”

  Gaius considered the logistics. He didn’t remember his life as a Roman general, but he maintained a rare talent for strategy.

  Which, unfortunately, was precisely the reason his clan had been attacked . . .

  No. He wrenched his mind from the painful memories. He couldn’t go there. Guilt, no matter how well deserved, was a distraction he couldn’t afford.

  “That will make her capture a trifle more difficult, but I am confident I will be capable of bringing her to you with minimal injury.”

  “She is being protected by a male Were,” the Dark Lord continued. “I want him brought as well.”

  “Why?” Even as the word left his lips, Gaius knew he’d made a mistake.

  On cue, an agonizing pain drilled through his head, sending him to his knees.

  “It is not your place to question me.”

  “No, Master.”

  “I will provide you with the necessary companions to assist you in your task.”

  Companions? That was the last thing he needed, or wanted.

  “That’s not necessary . . .” Once again the pain shot through his brain, briefly blinding him with the sheer anguish. “Gods.”

  “Gaius.” The witch jerkily moved to pat the top of his aching head, her face still blank and her eyes glowing with an eerie power. “Do not make me wish I had chosen another servant for this important task.”

  Forcing himself back to his feet, Gaius managed a stiff smile. “You will have no reason for regret, Master.”

  There was a long pause. As if the Dark Lord was debating the pleasure of killing him against the need to capture the prophet. At last the witch gave a nod. “Sally will travel with you as my personal eyes and ears.”

  Gaius was proud and stubborn and obsessed with his dead mate. But he wasn’t stupid.

  This time there was no hesitation as he gave a nod of his head. “Of course.”

  “I will have two others join you.”

  Another hasty nod.

  He would make certain his . . . companions understood who was in charge when they arrived.

  “Where will we find the prophet?” he asked.

  The crimson eyes flared. “If I knew where she was I would not need you, would I?”

  Good point.

  Las Vegas

  After consuming enough food to feed a small army, or one hungry Were, Caine escorted Cassie back through the casino. Instinctively, he slowed his pace to match his companion’s as she studied the drunken crowds that weaved their way past blinking machines toward the cover band singing at the back of the vast room.

  He wanted to be far away from the chaotic blast of sound and light and emotions that beat at his senses. His change to pureblooded Were left him hypersensitive to even the most subtle stimulus and being stuck in the middle of Vegas made him feel as if he were being sandblasted by sensations.

  Worse, his most primitive instincts were stirred to a fever pitch by the male gazes that followed Cassie with blatant lust.

  But, he wasn’t a masochist.

  With every passing night it was growing more difficult to keep to his role as protector. Spending any extra time alone with her in a hotel room . . .

  A very bad idea.

  Especially when she’d just dropped her latest little bombshell on him.

  Covertly studying her perfect profile, he kept a possessive hand at her lower back, steering her toward the front lobby. Maybe if they were on the streets he could clear the cobwebs and return his mind to the task of keeping this female safe.

  Which was all he should be thinking about.

  Busy reminding himself that there wasn’t a demon around who wouldn’t kill to get their hands on a genuine prophet, Caine was unprepared when Cassie came to an abrupt halt, regarding him with a baffled expression.

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  He frowned at the unexpected question. “Why do you ask?”

  “You keep staring at me.”

  “I’m not the only one,” he muttered, curling his lips into a snarl as a group of men dressed in khakis and polo shirts halted to ogle Cassie’s slender body shown in shocking detail by the sundress. “You need more clothes on.”

  “I’m not going to be distracted. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Caine heaved a sigh. For once the emerald eyes held a remarkable clarity. The one time he wanted her to be oblivious to him, he wryly acknowledged.

  A typical female.

  “What you said earlier,” he abruptly admitted.

  She grimaced. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know why I felt compelled to come here,” she said, misunderstanding his confession. “I suppose it will eventually come to me.”

  He shook his head. “No, not that.”

  “Then what?”

  “About you . . .”

  “Caine?” she prompted.

  Oh hell. He had to know. It had been eating at him for the past two hours. “About you not being as experienced as other women.”

  “Oh.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you asking if I’ve ever had sex?”

  With a muffled exclamation, Caine tugged Cassie into a shallow alcove. “Shh.”

  “Why?” She waved a hand toward the passing crowd. “They all talk about sex here. A lot.”

  He swallowed a moan, his body reacting with predictable enthusiasm to her words. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  Without warning, she lifted her hand to stroke her fingertips lightly down the line of his jaw.

  “You don’t need to be a prophet to know that a female who has been held in one prison after another doesn’t have a great deal of experience with men,” she said softly. “There were a few, of course, but not like a normal female would enjoy.”

  He held her gaze, reaching up to press her fingers against his cheek. “Briggs?” he asked, referring to the demented Were that had helped to hold her hostage.

  “What about him?”

  “Briggs . . .”—he found it difficult to even utter the question—“never abused you?”

  “Of course not.” She allowed a small, mysterious smile to curve her lips. “He was terrified of me.”

  Caine released a shaky breath, savagely relieved that she hadn’t been harmed, even though he’d already suspected the truth.

  The innocence shimmering in her eyes was more than just a lack of worldly experience.

  “So you’re a . . .”

  “Virgin.”

  Chapter 3

  Caine shuddered.

  There . . . She’d said it.

  The V word.

  “Virgin,” he muttered.

  She blinked, tugging her hand from his loose grip. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing?”

  “Not bad. Just . . .” He shoved his fingers through his hair. Dammit, how did he explain he wanted her so badly he could barely breathe, but she was depending on him to keep her safe? And to top it off, she was a damned virgin. Only an animal would take advantage of her. “Christ.”

  “In the books that I used to read the males always
seemed to appreciate the privilege of taking their mate’s innocence,” she mused.

  He moaned, wondering if she were deliberately trying to torture him. “Let me guess,” he said in a thick voice. “You read romance books?”

  “When Briggs would bring them to me. I liked them.” She tilted her chin. “In fact, I still do.”

  Holy hell. Could this get any worse?

  “Of course you do,” he muttered, regarding her warily. “But you understand that men aren’t really like the heroes in a story?”

  “You are,” she said with a confidence that had him shaking his head in instant denial.

  “No.”

  “You rescued me from the demon lord.”

  “Are you kidding me?” He stepped close enough to make sure that not even a vampire could overhear his words. “The only thing I did was stand in front of the bastard long enough to get myself killed and then mysteriously resurrected.”

  “You led me out of the caves.”

  “I was saving my own skin.”

  “And now you have taken the role of my protector,” she said, clearly determined to see him as some sort of savior. A pathetic joke. “What is that if not heroic?”

  He grasped her shoulders, gazing down at her wide eyes with a rising sense of frustration. “Shit, Cassie, if I was really heroic I would take you to your sisters where you would truly be protected and get the hell out of your life.”

  She stiffened, clearly not eager to be reunited with her three identical sisters.

  Understandable, considering that one was wed to Styx, the King of Vampires, and another wed to Styx’s most trusted guard, Jagr. While the third had mated with the King of Weres, Salvatore.

  As soon as they managed to get their hands on Cassie she would be locked away for her own good. Even if being caged again would drive her mad.

  “But you won’t?” she breathed.

  “No, I won’t,” he admitted without hesitation. “But not because I’m a good guy.”

  “Then why?”

  His hands slid up to lightly graze the sides of her neck, relishing the trust she offered him. A Were would never allow anyone but family or their most intimate friends to be near their throat.