Devoured By Darkness Page 7

  “And you’re coming with me.”

  “Two.”

  He brushed his lips softly over her mouth. “You got it, sweet Laylah?” “Three.”

  As the word tumbled from her lips the fog began to swirl, twirling ever faster as she thinned the veil between worlds. Dammit. She’d made her decision and no arrogant bloodsucker was going to stand in her way.

  “I wish to remain at your side,” he muttered, grabbing her arm just as she began to step through the veil.

  There was the sensation of clinging spider webs and the prickles of electricity that became stabs of lightning as she pressed through the veil. And pain. Enough pain to send her to her knees as they tumbled through the fog and into a chilled darkness.

  The combination of pain from the entry and the shock at being wrenched from the ephemeral mists to the very real world of hard stone and damp air briefly disoriented her. She sucked in a shaky breath.

  This was the very last time she was taking passengers along for the ride.

  Slowly working through the pain, Laylah became aware of her surroundings.

  The dark tunnels that ran beneath the outskirts of London. The faint scent of rain from overhead. The sound of Tane’s curses as he struggled to his feet. And …

  Awareness.

  Awareness of Tane that tingled deep inside her. Holy crap, had it actually worked? Had she actually leashed a powerful vampire? And if she had, was it a good thing or the worst mistake in the history of the world?

  Fairly certain it was the mistake thing, Laylah was distracted by the sight of Levet lying like a frozen statue on the smoothly worn floor of the tunnel.

  “Shit.” She scrambled forward, touching the tiny demon who was now as hard as granite. “Levet?”

  “It’s daylight,” Tane said, his dagger clutched in his hands as he tested the air for danger. “He won’t awaken until dusk.”

  Thank God. With her current streak of piss-poor luck, she’d feared she managed to kill the poor thing.

  Scooping the gargoyle into her arms, she straightened with a groan. The creature weighed a ton. Then, deciding there was no time like the present to test her hold on Tane, she nervously cleared her throat.

  “You need to find us someplace safe to rest.”

  There was a brief, dangerous hesitation, and Laylah tensed, her mouth dry with fear. She was too weakened by the shadow walk to battle Tane if he remained unrestrained.

  In fact, until she rested and fed she was entirely at his mercy.

  Not the most comforting thought.

  Braced for the worst, Laylah nearly fell to her knees in relief as Tane offered a mocking bow.

  “Your wish is my command, mistress. This way.”

  He turned to flow through a side tunnel, not bothering to see if she were following or not. She hoped it was a sign his powers were at least muted.

  In silence they moved through the cramped passageways. Laylah knew she was taking a desperate risk. If she hadn’t gone skitzo with the need to track down information of the Jinn she might already be back under the protection of Caine with the child safely in her care.

  Instead she was risking all for what?

  Information? Affirmation?

  Lost in her broodings, Laylah allowed herself to be led through the maze of tunnels, only vaguely aware they were headed away from London.

  Nearly half an hour later, however, she was jerked out of her dangerous distraction. She came to a sharp halt, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “Stop,” she commanded.

  With a low growl, Tane spun around to stab her with an impatient frown.

  “Laylah, we don’t have long until your scent begins to stir unwanted attention.”

  She matched him glare for glare. If she’d managed to bind him, he was already proving to be the worst slave ever.

  “I’m more interested in the scent that’s already here,” she snarled. “You’ve brought me to a vampire lair.”

  He shrugged, completely unrepentant. “What place could offer you more protection?”

  “Yeah, and when they learn your companion is a half Jinn they’ll serve me up for dinner.”

  Without warning he was standing directly before her, his eyes glowing with a frightening intensity.

  “There’s not a chance in hell another vampire is going to sink his fangs into you,” he swore, his voice harsh with male possession. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

  She ignored the strange excitement that arrowed in the direction of her pelvis. She wasn’t going to be distracted again.

  “I’m not walking into a trap.” “Trust me, my sweet, if I decide to lead you into a trap you’ll never see it coming.”

  She ground her teeth. “Not helping.”

  He made a resigned bid for patience. “Victor is clan chief of London. We will need his permission if you intend to remain more than a few hours.”

  She grimaced. The last thing she wanted was more vampires. One was enough, thank you very much.

  “What we need is a witch who is willing to sell us an amulet to hide our scents,” she countered.

  Expecting an argument, she was caught off guard when he shrugged.

  “Yet another reason to approach Victor.”

  “He has a witch on the payroll?”

  “Actually he mated one.”

  “Seriously?” She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. Magic was the one power a vampire had no defense against. They couldn’t even sense a spell until too late. As a result they possessed a pathological hatred for both witches and mages. “A witch and a vampire? Isn’t that illegal or something?”

  “Or something,” he said dryly, his own thoughts of a vampire taking a witch as a mate carefully hidden. No doubt a wise precaution. “Actually, Juliet is half witch and half imp, with a rare talent that allows her to sense magical artifacts. If anyone has a spare disguise amulet lying around it will be her.”

  “And that’s the only reason you brought me here?” she demanded, concentrating on her tenuous awareness of Tane in an attempt to impose her will. “The truth.”

  “I’ve heard rumors that Victor had a brief encounter with a Jinn.”

  His brooding expression made it impossible to know if he was being coerced to speak the truth or merely playing along.

  “Recently?”

  “I suppose that’s a matter of perspective.”

  Her brows snapped together. “Tane.” “A few hundred years ago.” “What happened?”

  He folded his arms over his bare chest, making his muscles ripple beneath his golden skin. “That’s his story to tell.”

  She turned away from his compelling beauty as she considered her options. Or lack of options.

  If Victor had the information she desired, what choice did she have but to approach him? Even if it meant bearding the lion in his den, so to speak.

  Besides, Tane was right, may his aggravating soul rot in hell.

  Without protection she would soon be at the mercy of every demon in London who wanted to make brownie points with the Commission by turning over a rogue mongrel.

  “And you swear you aren’t using the vampires to break my binding?” she demanded.

  “I swear.” He pressed a hand to that gorgeous chest. Laylah swallowed a groan. She was terrified and weary and covered in filth, but a liquid heat raced through her at the thought of kissing and nibbling and licking her way down the smooth golden skin until she reached the waistband of his khakis and the … “Laylah.”

  Tane’s rough growl jerked her head up to meet his smoldering gaze, a blush staining her cheeks at the sight of his extended fangs and rigid expression as he battled his savage reaction to her arousal.

  “Fine, let’s go,” she muttered.

  His jaw clenched, his urge to go caveman a tangible force in the air. Then, with grim effort he whirled around and led her through the darkness.

  Laylah followed in silence, pissed off by her lingering awareness. Not that her panting eagerness was a shock
er. She’d spent the majority of her life on a small farm in the remote outback of Australia before being captured by the mage and hidden in Siberia. After Caine had rescued her, she had the baby to consider, which meant she remained all but a hermit, no matter where they traveled.

  Male demons had been few and far between. And those of the tall, dark, and orgasmic sort had been all but nonexistent.

  Was it any wonder her hormones were charged into hyperdrive?

  They had traveled only a few miles when Tane slowed to a mere crawl, glancing over his shoulder. “Wait here,” he commanded.

  “No …”

  Without giving her the opportunity to command that he explain what was going on, Tane disappeared down a side tunnel, leaving Laylah alone to stew in frustration.

  He really truly was the worst slave ever.

  Tane’s instincts were on full alert as he came to a halt and waited for the lurking vampire to make his appearance. He was taking a risk.

  Not only by entering another vampire’s territory unannounced, but by bringing Laylah among his brothers.

  Victor’s clan had no reason to protect a mongrel Jinn and every reason to turn her over to the Oracles with all possible speed. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of an argument when it came to the Commission.

  But he didn’t have much choice. Already Laylah’s scent was spreading through the tunnels. He needed to get her into the protection of Victor’s lair. The sooner, the better.

  Why?

  His lips twisted with a rueful smile.

  He wanted to claim it was because she’d bound him with her magic. After all, it was far less disturbing to believe the constant awareness that was nagging at him was a spell rather than something far more dangerous.

  Instead he blamed his refusal to do his duty on the growing suspicion that there were forces swirling around Laylah and her mysterious baby that might directly impact the future.

  There was a frigid breeze as a vampire of considerable strength neared and with a deliberate motion he tucked the dagger into the waistband of his khakis and held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

  “Uriel?” he called softly, having met Victor’s second in command nearly three centuries before.

  On cue a tall vampire with a halo of brown curls and large brown eyes stepped into view.

  A cynical smile curved Tane’s lips at the air of guileless youth that shrouded about Uriel in his faded jeans and casual T-shirt. His deceptively angelic appearance had been the downfall of many an enemy. And one that Tane had never been stupid enough to make.

  Although …

  He frowned, realizing that the younger vampire’s power had increased significantly since their last encounter.

  Strange. Usually a vampire developed to their full potential mere years after their turning. He’d never heard of one acquiring more power centuries after maturing from their foundling stage.

  A mystery, but not one he had time to dwell upon.

  Not when Uriel was fondling a sword that could cut the head off a troll.

  “We had no warning the Charon was traveling to London,” Uriel said, his bland tone not disguising his aversion to Tane’s presence.

  Tane shrugged, inured to the less than warm greeting.

  His brothers either feared him or loathed him.

  None of them wanted to be BFFs.

  “I’m not here in my official capacity.”

  Uriel didn’t look comforted. “You’re here on vacation?”

  “Not exactly. I must speak with Victor.” Tane reached out with his senses, his brows pulling together as he belatedly realized that he should have been able to sense Victor’s power signature by now. Unlike Viper, the Chicago clan chief, the big cheese of London was never subtle. His presence was like a sledgehammer. “He’s not in London,” he absently murmured. “He’s traveled north.”

  Uriel’s fingers twitched on the hilt of his sword at Tane’s unconscious display of his talent.

  He was a Charon who could find his prey with unerring skill.

  “Victor was forced to travel to Dublin to meet with Lansbury, the current Prince of Fairies,” he grudgingly confessed.

  “Trouble?”

  “There are whispers among the fey that there have been sightings of Sylvermyst.”

  “Impossible.” Tane instinctively denied the nasty possibilities. The Sylvermyst were the distant cousins of the fey with a taste for evil that made vampires seem like boy scouts. “They were banished centuries ago along with the Dark Lord.”

  “So were any number of creatures who’ve managed to make unwelcomed appearances over the past year,” Uriel said dryly.

  Tane grimaced. “True enough.”

  With a sudden motion, Uriel whirled the sword over his head and shoved it into a leather sheath strapped to his back. “Why are you here, Tane?”

  More amused than offended by his companion’s blunt approach, Tane smiled.

  “Obviously Victor didn’t hire you for your diplomatic skills.”

  “He hired me to keep peace.” Uriel’s jaw tightened. “Something that’s been difficult enough lately without tossing a Charon into the mix.”

  Tane flicked a brow upward. He sympathized with Uriel’s predicament. The growing unrest throughout the demon world was a bitch for everyone. But he was here with a purpose and no one was standing in his path.

  “Are you trying to imply I’m unwelcomed?”

  “Having you here is like throwing gasoline on a smoldering fire.”

  “It’s not my fault you can’t control your peeps,” Tane mocked. “Peeps?”

  “Minions? Flunkies? Sycophants?”

  Uriel made a sound of impatience. “Our minions aren’t the only ones who are restless. It feels like the entire world is sitting on a powder keg. Your arrival …” Uriel bit off his words, shock widening his eyes. “What the hell? Is that a Jinn? And gargoyle?” He glanced over Tane’s shoulder. “Shit, do you have a death wish? Victor is going to kill you.”

  “Many have tried.” Tane stepped forward, done with the polite chitchat. He needed to get Laylah to safety. “I seek asylum. Will you offer it?”

  “As if I have a choice,” Uriel muttered. “Styx has commanded that his Charons be given whatever they request. That’s a pretty big trump card to carry around.”

  Tane curled back his lips to flash his fangs. “I have bigger.”

  “Fine,” the younger vampire grudgingly conceded. “You can stay in the dungeons.”

  “Uriel …”

  “Hear me out.”

  Tane narrowed his gaze. “Talk fast.”

  “As I’ve said, the natives have been rumbling and it’s my duty to keep complete chaos from erupting,” Uriel pointed out. “The dungeons are wrapped in illusions and protected by hexes. It should keep your presence in London concealed. At least until Victor returns.”

  “And an effective means of locking me in an inescapable cell.”

  Uriel’s sharp laugh echoed through the cramped tunnel. “And risk the wrath of our Anasso?”

  Tane allowed his power to bite through the air. “Styx’s wrath would be the least of your worries.”

  “Bloody hell, I got it.” Uriel held up a hand. “Trust me.”

  Tane shoved aside his initial reaction and forced himself to consider the suggestion. He truly didn’t fear that Uriel would try and trap a Charon. Despite his skirmish in the cave, few vampires were that stupid. And the dungeons would offer Laylah the concealment she so desperately needed.

  For now he could put aside his massive pride.

  “I suppose they would provide a temporary protection. Are there any prisoners?”

  “Not currently.”

  He nodded, his decision made. “I want a room with suitable comforts.” “Of course.”

  A sudden smile curved his mouth. “And privacy.” “Privacy?”

  “Thick walls, convenient chains on the wall, soundproof privacy.”

  Uriel’s expression was unreadable. “I assu
me you’ll be sharing the room with the Jinn?”

  Oh, he intended to share more than a room with the Jinn.

  He’d been suffering with a primitive need to claim Laylah from the moment he’d caught her scent in the tunnels. Now his all consuming need threatened to overwhelm everything, including his sense of self-preservation.

  He had to get her in his bed.

  And soon.

  “I will.”

  “And the gargoyle?” Uriel demanded.

  Tane shrugged. Laylah was done babysitting the obnoxious little demon. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

  “That’s your call, although I highly suggest the bottom of the Thames.”

  Uriel shuddered. “Why do I have a nasty suspicion that I’m acquainted with this particular gargoyle?”

  Laylah glanced uneasily over her shoulder, cursing Tane for abandoning her in the dank tunnels.

  With every passing second her scent was spreading through London, attracting demons like a homing beacon. The knowledge was making her itch. As if there was a pair of unseen eyes watching her from the dark.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, her arms were beginning to ache from carrying the unconscious Levet.

  It was like toting around a cement truck.

  Thankfully, just when she was considering the possibility of finding her own shelter, she watched as Tane stepped out of a side tunnel along with a tall vampire with the face of an angel.

  “Laylah. This is Uriel.” Tane moved to stand at her side. “Victor’s second in command.”

  Uriel’s gaze remained averted, as if he couldn’t bear to glance in her direction.

  “I have arranged for your privacy.”

  She frowned in confusion. “Privacy?”

  Without warning Tane plucked the sleeping gargoyle and shoved him at the reluctant vampire.

  “Here.”

  She watched in confusion as Uriel grasped a stunted horn, allowing the gargoyle to hang at his side.

  “What are you doing with Levet?”

  “He’s an old friend of Uriel’s,” Tane assured her. “The two of them have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Uriel flashed Tane a glance that should have struck him dead.

  “You’re in my debt, Charon.”

  With his warning delivered, the vampire took off down the opposite tunnel while Tane steered her through the tunnel he’d just exited.