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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

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Dropping the corpse, he turned his attention toward the huddled mass, pointing his finger toward a slender, dark-haired female.

A tender bud of female temptation.

With a crook of his finger he had her on her feet and walking toward him. Her eyes were blank of emotion beneath his compulsion, but she readily went to her knees and reached for his belt buckle.

Dara wouldn’t mind. She was too ill to satisfy his needs.

And as long as he remembered to take four or five of the shivering mortals back to satisfy her strange cravings, she would be happy enough.

The female wrapped her lips around his aching cock and Gaius allowed the nagging sense of . . . wrongness . . . to melt away.

Chapter 18

The Ozark Mountains

Nefri perched on the edge of the bed with Santiago seated directly behind her, his legs bracketing hers as he ran a brush through the thick strands of her damp hair.

It was the sort of casually intimate moment that most lovers shared.

Except for her.

She never indulged in love play. It made her feel exposed. Even more exposed than the actual act of sex. After all, sex was a primitive need that could be shared between complete strangers.

This . . . this was true intimacy. It took a level of faith she was never comfortable offering.

Until tonight.

After hours of pleasure, she’d fallen asleep wrapped in Santiago’s arms, only to awaken to his wicked kisses stirring the hunger she had thought sated for the next century.

It wasn’t until she could sense the sun setting that they’d at last made it to the long overdue shower.

Now they were forced to wait for Baine to either reveal his secrets or tell them to go.

Something that should be making Santiago nuts. He wasn’t a patient sort of vampire (understatement of the century). He should be snorting and fuming and threatening to castrate Baine for forcing him to sit around and wait for the dragon’s decision.

Instead he calmly ran the brush through her hair, his prolonged silence as uncharacteristic as his lack of irritation.

“You seem . . .” She searched for a word that wouldn’t rub against his pride. Men were so sensitive. “Pensive.”

She felt him shrug. “I’m a pensive kind of guy.”

She made a sound of disbelief. “You’re the least pensive man I know.”

“I’m not sure if I’ve been insulted or not.”

“No. I like your ability to listen to your instincts.” She shifted so she could study his guarded expression. He was dressed in a gray sweatshirt and jeans that had magically appeared in the armoire along with jeans and a lovely peach cashmere sweater for her. His hair had already been brushed and braided, emphasizing the sharp angles and planes of his achingly handsome face. “And your heart.”

“Like, hmmm?” He smiled with decadent promise, the tips of his fangs visible. “How much do you like me?”

A shiver inched down her spine. Her instant reaction was downright indecent.

“Well enough.”

The dark eyes smoldered with a rising heat. “I think I can make you like me better than well enough.” His head dipped downward, nuzzling at the sensitive spot at the base of her throat.

Her hands lifted to press at his shoulders. She had to stop him now or she’d be lost. “Santiago?”

“Yes?”

“What were you thinking about?”

The tip of one fang scraped down the line of her collarbone. “You want to discuss it now?”

Of course she didn’t. She wanted to close her eyes and drown in the melting heat. But if she allowed herself to be distracted, she knew she’d never discover what was troubling him. “Yes.”

He reluctantly pulled back, regarding her with a brooding gaze. “Why did you leave last time without even saying good-bye?”

Nefri froze. Oh . . . lord. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. If she had, she certainly wouldn’t have pressed him.

Now she turned to stare blindly at the hand-carved dressing table that had been a gift from a grateful Persian king. Or at least the illusion of her table. Anything to avoid his unwavering gaze.

“Because I was afraid if I saw you again I wouldn’t have the courage to leave,” she said, her voice so low only a vampire could have picked up her words.

“And that would have been a bad thing?”

“My people needed their clan chief.”

“And what about what I needed,
cara?
”

She clenched her hands. Okay, she hadn’t told him the full truth.

A part of her had fled because it was safer to scurry back behind the Veil and forget about the vampire that made her feel as vulnerable as a foundling.

But, she truly had needed to return to her people.

They’d been deeply disturbed to realize that Gaius was a traitor who had taken advantage of their secluded clan to acquire the skills to assist the Dark Lord in ripping apart the barriers between worlds.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded.

“Everything.”

She frowned. Did he expect her to turn her back on her people? To walk away from her responsibilities?

The mere thought should have been infuriating, but she found herself actually considering the possibility.

Could she leave her people to return to this world? Could she give up her leadership to be with the man who had reminded her that there was more to life than just duty?

“I . . .”

She didn’t know what she was going to say, and in the end it didn’t matter as the bedroom abruptly melted around them.

“What the hell?” Leaping to his feet, Santiago caught her as the bed disappeared.

The air around them shimmered, before becoming a long hallway with a set of double doors at the far end.

“It seems that Baine has reached his decision,” she said.

Santiago grasped her by the shoulders, turning her to meet his resolute expression. “This conversation is postponed, not finished.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Like she doubted for a second the stubborn vampire would press until he had the answer he wanted?

“I know.” She gently pulled out of his grasp. “But later. We shouldn’t keep Baine waiting.”

He grimaced, but he fell into step beside her, his hand automatically reaching to unsheathe the sword that he’d strapped to his back.

Nefri held her tongue until they reached the end of the paneled hall. Then, laying her hand on his arm, she halted him from opening the door. “Santiago.”

He glanced at her with a lifted brow. “I thought you didn’t want to keep the dragon waiting?”

She chose her words with care. “Baine might be one of the oldest, most powerful creatures in several universes, but in some ways he can be almost childish. If you offend him he might very well refuse to share what he knows.”

His lips twitched at her careful diplomacy. “I promise to be on my very bestest behavior. Is that what you want to hear?”

“I was hoping you would let me deal with the dragon.” She met his deliberately blank expression. “Just . . .” She bit off her words and gave a resigned shake of her head. The vampire would do exactly what he wanted to do. “Oh, never mind,” she muttered, reaching to shove the door open. “So stubborn.”

“Stones in glass houses, Nefri,” he whispered into her ear as she stepped past him.

Ignoring his taunt, Nefri entered the throne room, not surprised to find the dragon indolently sprawled on the large throne. He was again dressed in nothing more than a loose pair of
dojo
pants, his shimmering tattoos crawling over his skin and his eyes burning with an amber fire.

“Baine.” She came to a halt and performed a respectful bow. “Thank you for speaking with us again.”

The amber gaze shifted to Santiago, who stood protectively at her side, his sword in hand.

“I would prefer not to; I certainly have more intriguing matters to claim my attention,” he murmured, his attention turning back to Nefri. “Unfortunately, I have a debt to pay.”

“A debt?” Santiago asked.

Baine shrugged. “A beautiful vampire once saved my life. I will attempt to return the favor.”

Nefri shook her head as Santiago slid a questioning glance in her direction. She’d never heard rumors of a vampire rescuing a dragon, although she didn’t doubt it would prove to be a fascinating story.

For now, however, she was far more interested in Baine’s implication that the vampires needed to be saved.

“Are we in that much danger?”

“Yes.”

Nefri shivered at the blunt agreement. “From the spirit?”

“It’s more than just a spirit. It’s a—” Baine halted, seeming to consider his words. “A creator.”

Beside her, Santiago stiffened. “A god?”

“That depends on your definition of god.” Baine absently touched a tattoo that resembled an ancient Sanskrit mark that briefly appeared on his neck. Nefri suspected that Baine had been considered a god by more than one cult over the centuries. “It’s no longer worshipped, or even remembered by most, but it did spawn several species of demons.”

Nefri’s growing concern only intensified. It hadn’t occurred to her that the spirit had family in the world.

“Demons that still exist?” she asked.

“Of course,” Baine assured her. “You’re familiar with Lamsung demons?”

“Soul-suckers,” Santiago said in disgust.

The Lamsung had been forced into a hell dimension centuries before. Few demons were willing to risk their souls to a creature that could drain them for dinner. It was claimed that the Sylvermysts possessed rare swords that were made with the heart of a Lamsung demon and capable of giving them strength through the enemies they slayed.

“Descriptive,” Baine mocked.

Nefri ignored Santiago’s prickle of power that crawled over her skin. She didn’t have time for a male pissing match.

“Is that what this spirit does?” she demanded. “Steal the souls of his victims?”

“No.” Baine shook his head. “The feeding of souls is unique to the Lamsung, just as the spirit’s other children have their own special dietary habits.”

“What other children?” Santiago growled.

Baine smiled. “Can’t you guess?”

The truth hit Nefri with blinding force. What other creature lived off the life force of their victims?

“Vampires?”

The dragon’s smile widened. “Vampires.”

Santiago wasn’t a philosophical vampire.

Oh, he was intelligent and well read, and a cunning warrior. But he’d never understood the need to brood and ponder on matters that had no straightforward answer.

He preferred action to reaction.

This, however, was enough to make any man hesitate.

“So you’re saying this . . . thing is the creator of vampires?” he demanded.

Baine gave a wave of his hand. “That’s my assumption.”

Santiago’s low growl rumbled in his throat. This dragon would be greatly improved by a good ass-kicking. A damned shame he’d promised Nefri to be on his best behavior.

“Assumption?” he snapped.

“Santiago.” Nefri sent him one of those glances that held a combination of exasperation and warning before turning back to the dragon. “As you can imagine, this has been a shock.”

Baine lifted a brow. “Don’t you know anything of your history?”

“There’s very little written on the origins of vampires. And the oral history . . .” Nefri gave a lift of her hands. “Well, I don’t have to tell you, we’re an arrogant species. It’s not surprising that most believe we were sent to this world by superior beings to become the ultimate rulers.”

“And it never occurred to you that you might be a mutation from a more primitive demon?” Baine demanded.

Nefri shook her head. “My studies have been slanted toward the mystical rather than the scientific. I’ve never researched evolution.”

The burning amber gaze shifted to Santiago. “And you?”

He shrugged. “I like the ‘ultimate rulers’ theory.”

Baine snorted, a hint of smoke curling from one nostril. “Predictable.”

Nefri ignored their little interchange, her expression hinting that she wasn’t nearly so calm as she was trying to pretend.

“Will you share what you know?”

“My knowledge is fragmented and far too much relies on stories I’ve heard secondhand,” the dragon admitted. “I never encountered the actual spirit in person. Thank my own very mysterious gods.”

Santiago instinctively tightened his hand on his sword. Knowing that the all-powerful dragon was afraid of the spirit wasn’t particularly heartening. “Why?”

“It’s claimed that the spirit is capable of feeding off any demon, no matter how strong they might be.”

“It feeds off demons?” Santiago rasped.

“Demons or humans.” Baine shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to be particular.”

Well, this just got better and better.

Grimacing, Santiago tried to shove aside the growing list of reasons why he should return to Styx and tell him to appoint another vampire to hunt down Gaius.

The spirit was an enemy. He needed to approach it as he would any other enemy. Which meant gaining as much intel as he could.

“You said that its spawn had their own means of feeding,” he said. “Which I assume means it doesn’t drink blood or suck souls.”

Baine smiled, the amber eyes smoldering with fire. “No.”

“Then what the . . .” Santiago stilled, cursing himself for being so dense. It all made perfect, horrible sense now.
“Mierda.”

Nefri sent him a puzzled glance. “What is it?”

“Emotion,” he rasped. “It feeds off emotion.”

Her eyes widened, easily able to make the same connection that he had. “Of course.”

“So, not all brawn,” Baine drawled.

Santiago narrowed his gaze. “I have my moments.”

“If this creature feeds off emotion, it makes sense that it would inspire fear and lust and violence among humans,” Nefri murmured, speaking her thoughts out loud.

“And demons,” Baine reminded her.

“Yes, and demons.” Her brow furrowed. “But why use Gaius to spread the emotions? Does it need a conduit?”

Baine tapped a finger on the arm of his throne. “Are you certain it’s Gaius that’s creating the emotions?”

Nefri gave a hesitant nod. “As certain as we can be at this point.”

“This spirit,” Santiago abruptly interrupted, “is it able to take corporeal form?”

Baine shook his head. “Like vampires it’s symbiant.”

Santiago scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

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