Darkness Returns Page 4

  Her brief flare of temper faded; then, without warning, her lips twitched at his words.

  “You do get the irony, don’t you?”

  “You mean I don’t like bloodsuckers?” He moved close enough to feel the heat of her body seeping through his clothes. Yum. “I prefer to be the taker, not the donor.”

  She trembled, but she didn’t step back. “And your prey? What if they prefer not to be the donor?”

  “My dinner companions are never prey. And I can assure you, they’re always exceedingly eager to provide what I need,” he said, reaching out to touch a golden curl. Soft. Like spun silk. A different sort of heat combusted through his body, brushing across each pleasure point. Delicious. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

  A captivating awareness darkened her eyes. Then, with a jerky motion, she was brushing away his hand and stepping back.

  “Unless you want Inga to demonstrate her ability to rip off heads with her bare hands, you’ll keep your fangs to yourself,” she warned.

  Chiron hid his smile. She could bluff and bluster all she wanted. There was no denying the sizzling attraction between them.

  “I would never force myself on an unwilling partner.”

  Her lips flattened. “You said you wanted to discuss my hotel?”

  With an effort, he forced his gaze away from her face and nodded toward the building.

  “It is a beautiful place.”

  “Thank you.”

  He studied the elegant lines that masked the sturdy construction. “It has the craftsmanship of the fey, but I don’t recognize the runes. Who built this?”

  “The original owners have been lost to time.”

  “You don’t have records?” he demanded.

  Fey were meticulous in preserving the most tedious details of their businesses. He’d always assumed it was to ensure they could track which compulsion spell worked best to lure their customers back to their establishments.

  “There was a demon plague when I was a young child that took my parents,” she said. The lack of emotion in her voice didn’t disguise the lingering wound. He could sense she continued to mourn her parents. “Inga burned their bodies along with most of their belongings. Her eagerness to ensure anything that might have been contaminated with the plague was destroyed meant only the furniture survived.”

  Chiron frowned. Epidemics were rare among demons, but they were devastating when they occurred. They could take out huge swaths of the local population, and it wasn’t surprising the ogress would have chosen fire to try to purge the house of any lingering disease. Still, it was pretty damned convenient that every record that might have revealed the reason this place had been chosen by the witches had been destroyed.

  “You don’t know anything about the history of the place?” he pressed.

  She paused before seeming to decide there was no reason not to answer. He was a paying guest, after all.

  “There’re plenty of folktales.”

  He strolled to lean against the stone balustrade that framed the terrace. “Tell me.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you: I’m interested in hotels.”

  She remained distrustful of his curiosity. “They don’t have anything to do with my business.”

  He arched a brow. “Of course they do. I don’t rent rooms to humans. I offer them a fantasy. The opportunity to escape from their dull, humdrum lives, if only for a few days. Or the chance to become rich with the throw of the dice.” He gestured toward the lush gardens. “This is a magical retreat for demons desiring the illusion of peace.”

  She snorted. “It’s not always peaceful. I just replaced several chairs in the west wing after a group of fairies decided they needed the wood to build a bonfire. If it hadn’t been for Inga, they would have trashed the place.”

  Chiron nodded. He’d been entranced by the sense of quiet serenity that surrounded the area. Now he realized some demons might choose the location because of its isolation.

  He spoke his thoughts out loud. “I suppose some demons consider such an isolated location their private Vegas.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What happens here, stays here.”

  A reluctant amusement sparkled in her eyes. It illuminated her beauty and made his gut twist with a strange emotion.

  “True.”

  He clenched the edge of the balustrade. He was trying to find out information that would help in his search, he sternly reminded himself. Later, he would indulge in his fascination for this female.

  Always assuming she didn’t turn out to be working with the enemy.

  “I really am interested,” he said.

  She studied him, her expression impossible to read. Then she heaved a resigned sigh. No doubt she was telling herself he was just another demanding customer she had to indulge.

  “The oldest folklore is that the house rose from the oceans and floated to the wetlands fully formed. A creation of mist and magic. That’s my favorite one,” she said, her expression softening. Clearly, she loved her home.

  Mist and magic. Chiron shuddered.

  “What are the others?” he pressed.

  “They aren’t nearly so nice. One said it was once a lair for the owl people, who would come out at night and sacrifice the local water sprites to fuel their magic. Then there’s the one that said this place was built on an ancient burial site and that ghosts walk the grounds.” She grimaced. “I haven’t encountered any ghosts, so I’m assuming we can scratch that last one off the list.”

  Chiron wasn’t so sure. There were some ghosts who stayed dormant for centuries. There could be a dozen of them sleeping in the gardens without anyone knowing.

  “Nothing about witches?” he asked.

  She started to shake her head, only to halt, as if she was struck by a sudden thought.

  “Actually, there was some weird story about witches dancing in a circle until they gave birth to the barriers that surround the estate. I think I heard it from one of the brownies who came to work on my foundation.”

  Chiron was intrigued. He wondered if he could track down the brownie who’d told her that story. Probably not. The elusive creatures tended to travel from one area to another, offering their talents for mending stone in exchange for food and shelter. Few of them had permanent lairs.

  “Are there any local covens?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Chiron studied the massive structure. A witch might be capable of creating a small cottage. And a completed circle of witches could potentially manage a stone building. But nothing on this scale.

  “Human magic couldn’t have done it alone,” he murmured.

  There was a brief silence as she glanced at him in confusion. “What’s your interest in witches?”

  Chiron shoved himself away from the railing. This female was already suspicious of him. Unless he wanted to alert her that he wasn’t just another guest, he needed to take things slow.

  Ignoring the voice in the back of his head that whispered he was way too eager to prolong his stay in this place, he flashed Lilah his most charming grin.

  “It’s a magical kingdom in the middle of a swamp. All you need is some oversize mice and a princess and a fairy godmother, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

  “I have my moments.”

  “Hmm.”

  He took another step closer, his fangs aching as her scent teased at his senses. What was she?

  “You don’t sound like you believe me,” he accused in a husky voice.

  Her breath rushed between her parted lips. Sweet music to his ears.

  “I don’t,” she told him. She tried to look defiant, but she couldn’t hide her reaction to his proximity.

  It smoldered in her eyes.

  “No?”

  “No.” She sniffed. “You’re not here because you want to learn about my business methods. Everyone knows the best demon hotels and clubs belong to Viper. If you needed advice, you w
ould go to him.”

  Chiron blinked in surprise. He’d assumed her isolation in the Everglades meant she didn’t keep track of the outside world. A timely reminder that he really didn’t know anything about this female.

  Except for the fact that she was gorgeous and clever and she smelled like ambrosia.

  He chose his words with care. “For the past several centuries, Viper and I have not been on speaking terms.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Why not?”

  A smooth lie formed on his tongue, but he found it impossible to speak the words. He told himself it was because he still had no idea what sort of demon she was and what her powers might be. He couldn’t risk having her throw him out because she didn’t trust him. But a part of him knew it was because he didn’t want to deceive her.

  A dangerous realization.

  “I’m a Rebel.”

  The name seemingly meant nothing to her.

  “I thought all vampires were rebels?”

  “My clan was accused of trying to remove the king from his throne, so we were banished.”

  “That seems very…” She wrinkled her nose. “Feudal.”

  “Straight out of Game of Thrones.”

  Expecting her to smile at his joke, he froze in shock as she impulsively reached out to lay a light hand on his arm.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Chiron froze in shock. It wasn’t just her touch that was sending electric jolts of pleasure through him. It was her sincerity that felt so dangerously real. As if she sensed his lingering bitterness and the wounds that refused to heal.

  Careful, Chiron, he silently warned himself. Only a fool would forget that his instincts were scrambled since arriving at the hotel. It was even possible they were being deliberately manipulated.

  “I’m not.” He kept his tone light. “I’ve succeeded just fine without the Anasso and his merry band of ass-kissers.”

  She gave his arm a soft squeeze. “It’s lonely without a family.”

  He took an abrupt step backward as her words brushed a nerve that was still raw and aching.

  Beyond a ruthless, gnawing guilt at Tarak’s disappearance had been an underlying emptiness. The Rebel clan had scattered without a strong leader, and Chiron had eventually retreated to focus on his own businesses. If it hadn’t been for Ulric, he would be completely alone.

  “You don’t have any relatives?” he forced himself to ask. This conversation was supposed to be focused on discovering information about this hotel. Not wallowing in self-pity.

  She shrugged. “None that have reached out to me. Perhaps someday I’ll go in search of them.”

  “I—” He snapped his lips together, his eyes widening as Lilah leaped toward him.

  At first, he thought she’d been overcome by lust. Hey, it could happen. He’d had women jump out of windows when he strolled past. But even as he lifted his arms to wrap around her, she was ramming her hands into his chest with enough force to make him stumble backward.

  “Look out,” she cried.

  Oddly, he didn’t think for a second she was attacking him. Stupid, really. Why else would she be shoving him around? But he made no effort to fight against the pressure of her hands, allowing her to tumble him back onto the hard stone terrace. At the same time, a pain flared through his shoulder.

  What the hell?

  He warily watched as Lilah bent beside him. Was that fear etched on her face? Absently lifting his hand, he touched the pain that continued to throb through his right shoulder. There was a sticky moisture he knew was blood, and a slash through his favorite shirt. Damn. He’d been injured.

  It wasn’t fatal. Already his flesh was knitting together. In less than ten minutes he’d be completely healed. It was just bad enough to piss him off.

  “Are you okay?” Lilah demanded.

  “Fine.” He was on his feet, vaulting over the edge of the railing to search the nearby bushes. A second later, he pulled a wooden arrow from a clump of orchids. Shit. This was one of the few weapons that could actually kill a vampire. And if it hadn’t been for Lilah, it would have gone straight through his heart. “Go inside,” he urged his companion.

  Lilah glanced toward the arrow in his hand before meeting his fierce gaze. “What are you going to do?”

  He flashed his fangs. “Find whoever is suicidal enough to try to kill me.”

  Chapter 4

  Levet hated vampires. Almost as much as he hated dragons. Oh, and his family. Oui, his family topped his list of creatures he detested. They had tossed him out of the nest, then voted him out of the Guild, and when he’d ended up in the hands of slave traders, they’d done nothing to help him.

  Not that he had need of them. He’d not only survived, he was an official knight in shining armor, adored by females everywhere. And he had saved the world. How many demons could claim such awesome feats?

  None but him.

  Unfortunately, his status as a hero meant he was often called upon to rush to the rescue. It was both a gift and a burden. This time, it felt more like a burden.

  Chiron had the same nasty temper as every other bloodsucker, and the assumption that he could order Levet around as if he was a servant instead of a big Cheese Whiz.

  Feeling full of self-righteous annoyance, as well as several bottles of rum he’d discovered hidden in a locked room next to the kitchen, he waddled his way through the vast hotel.

  It was a beautiful building. Glossy wood, stunning murals, and massive stone fireplaces. But he didn’t like it.

  And worse, he didn’t know why he didn’t like it.

  Maybe it was because his magic felt as sluggish as molasses. Or because his senses were muffled. Or because he wanted to be bathing in lava with a lovely fire imp.

  Whatever the cause, his wings were drooping by the time he trooped from the cellars to the upper floors. The key was here. He’d followed the spell to this spot. But there was some strange magic that kept him from pinpointing the exact location.

  Finished with a search of the rooms on the top floor, he headed toward a door at the end of the hallway. It was hidden behind a clever illusion of a mirror, but Levet wasn’t fooled. He was a master at seeing through magic. Or at least, he was when his talents weren’t being rotated with.

  No wait…that wasn’t right. Screwed. Oui. Screwed with.

  Reaching the door, he’d just managed to pull it open to reveal a steep staircase when a large form suddenly appeared, heading down the steps like a drunken water buffalo.

  “Eek!” Levet flapped his wings, realizing it was the ogress mongrel who’d greeted them when they’d first arrived at the hotel. She was tall and broad, with a face that only a mother could love. Worse, she was thundering down the stairs too fast to stop.

  “Get out of the way, you idiot,” she barked.

  Levet hopped backward to avoid being trampled, waiting for the woman to skid to a halt before sending her an offended glare.

  “Why were you fleeing the attics, female? And why did you nearly squish me?”

  The ogress whirled around, scowling at him as if he was the one who’d caused the near disaster.

  “My name is Inga, and I was not fleeing.”

  “Then what were you doing?”

  Inga glanced toward the open door. “I heard someone running across the roof. I went up to find them, but they disappeared. I intended to make certain they didn’t manage to enter the hotel.”

  Levet followed her gaze. He’d already been on the roof. A gargoyle liked to investigate the outside accommodations as soon as they arrived at a location. There wasn’t much to see. Clay tiles. A gutter. A few chimneys. Boring.

  “The roof?” he questioned in disbelief.

  She made a sound of impatience. “You know, the thing above our heads that keeps us dry when it rains?”

  Levet wrinkled his heavy brow. “I know what it is. Why would someone be running up there?”

  The ogress folded her arms beneath her breasts. “You should ask your roommate.”
>
  Levet was momentarily mesmerized by the swell of her impressive bosom beneath the orange lilies patterned on her dress.

  Sacrebleu.

  “What roommate?”

  “The vampire.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you have more than one roommate? In which case, you have to pay extra.”

  Levet shook his head, forcing his gaze to meet her suspicious glare. “Why would Chiron know about the person on the roof?”

  “I think he was chasing whoever was up there.”

  Chiron chasing someone across the roof? Was she drunk? He sniffed the air. He didn’t detect any grog on her breath.

  “Why would he chase someone across the roof?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.” She leaned forward, pulling back her lips to reveal her pointy teeth. “He shouldn’t be up there, just as you shouldn’t be sticking your ugly snout into places it doesn’t belong.”

  “Hey.” He spread his wings, just in case she had missed seeing their dazzling colors. “Who are you calling ugly?”

  “You.”

  Levet sniffed. Clearly, the female had trouble with her eyesight. Anyone could see he was an extraordinary creature.

  “Have you never heard of the potty calling the kettle black?” he demanded.

  She wrinkled her wide nose. “No. That doesn’t even make sense.”

  Levet gave another sniff. Most human sayings didn’t make any sense to him, but it was rude of her to point it out. Deciding not to lecture the female on her poor manners, Levet instead gave a wave of his hand.

  “What is this place?” he demanded.

  She looked confused. “It’s a hallway.”

  “Non.” He waved his hands again. “This place.”

  “It’s a hotel.” She spoke slowly, as if he was too dense to comprehend her words.

  Levet gave an impatient click of his tongue. He would have to be more direct. “Why is the magic peculiar?”

  “The only thing peculiar here is you.”

  Levet stomped his foot, even as he revised the most-detested list in his head. His family was no longer at the top. This female ogress was number one.

  “I am a guest here,” he pouted. “You should treat me as if I am a prince.” His tail swirled around his feet. “Which I am, by the way. I have royal blood flowing through my veins.”