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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

BOOK: Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity)
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“I need you to find me beautiful,
querida,
” he rasped. “I need you to hunger for me with the same insanity that plagues me.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, he shifted to cover her with the cool weight of his body, his head swooping down to claim her lips in a searing kiss.
An exquisite shudder shook her body. Insanity summed it up nicely.
But sometimes a woman had to toss aside logic and let the magic consume her.
As if sensing her reckless thoughts, Santiago growled low in his throat, his hands molding the soft curve of her breast as he spread frantic kisses over her face.
“Jasmine and midnight silk,” he muttered, his tongue outlining her lips. “You were sent here for me to devour.”
Nefri might have protested if his hand hadn’t trailed down to stroke between her thighs with experienced ease.
She moaned as his finger slid into her tight flesh, her back arching in growing pleasure. It didn’t seem possible that she could need him again so soon, but as his finger dipped in and out of her, she found her hands tightening in his hair.
“If you’re going to devour me, then do it,” she rasped.
His lips brushed over her cheek, then down the line of her jaw. “Patience,
cara
.” He scraped his fangs down the length of her throat. “All good things”—he nibbled down her collarbone—“in time.” He covered the aching tip of her breast.
She hissed. Her patience was legendary. She’d spent over a century cataloguing every plant that could grow beyond the Veil where the sunlight never pierced the thick mists. But how the hell was she supposed to be patient when her entire body was on fire?
She didn’t
want
to be patient. She just wanted to once again feel that glorious release that hovered just out of reach.
Fisting her fingers in his thick hair, she lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist. “The time is now,” she informed him.
Pulling back, he regarded her with a rueful smile. “Always so bossy.”
She deliberately rubbed herself against the straining length of his erection. “If you wanted submissive you should have went with Charis.”
His eyes darkened, his fangs long and lethal in the dim lamplight. “What I want is you.” Holding her gaze, he shifted until the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance. “Only you.”
“Then take me.”
“Sí.”
With a low hiss, Santiago tilted his hips forward, sliding into her with a slow, relentless thrust.
Lowering her hands, Nefri clutched at Santiago’s shoulders, moaning in approval at the delicious sense of fullness. In this moment they were joined as deeply as it was possible for two people to be joined.
As lovers . . .
Her mind instantly shied from the implied relationship.
“Nefri,” he whispered close to her ear. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” she muttered, burying her face in the curve of his neck to absorb the rich male scent of him. “Nothing at all.”
“Then hang on,
querida
.”
The words had barely left his lips when he was pulling out and thrusting forward with enough force to bang the bed against the wall. Her eyes squeezed shut. Santiago’s tenderness had been a delightful surprise, but this was . . .
This was the raw, aching sex her body had longed for. This was perfection.
Meeting him thrust for thrust, Nefri scored her nails down his back, digging them into the firm muscles of his butt. He made a choked sound of pleasure, his lips finding hers in a kiss that demanded utter surrender.
“
Dios,
I’ve waited so long.”
She nipped at his lips, her fangs careful not to break his skin.
Vampires mated by exchanging blood. Not that she thought they were . . . or could . . . or ever would....
Never. The mere thought was ridiculous.
But, no use taking unnecessary risks, right?
Shoving aside the unwelcome distraction, she instead concentrated on Santiago as he stroked deeper, faster, taking her ever closer.
He felt so good as he moved inside her, his hands slipping beneath her hips as he gave a last surge and sent them both skyrocketing to paradise.
She gave a muted cry, her flare of power intertwining with Santiago’s to fill the room with a shimmer of brilliant colors, as if a rainbow had exploded.
“Good . . . lord,” she whispered in shock.
 
 
Styx’s lair in Chicago
 
It was the steady pulse of power that led Roke from the privacy of his rooms to the large library just past nightfall.
There was only one thing that could create the nuclear level energy. Which meant he wasn’t surprised when he stepped into the long room that was lined by ceiling-high bookshelves to discover Styx’s Ravens gathered.
A mocking smile curved his lips as he leaned against the doorjamb and surveyed the collection of massive vampires who were draped on the delicate Louis XIV chairs and sofas. They looked like oversized G.I. Joe action figures stuck in a miniature dollhouse.
“A powwow and you didn’t invite me?” Roke drawled as the vampires turned to regard him with varying degrees of impatience to downright irritation. He hadn’t made any effort to win friends and influence people since being forced to remain in Chicago. “I’m crushed.”
As if sensing that Roke was frustrated enough to pick a fight just to have a reason to hit someone, Styx crossed the room with long strides and stood directly in front of him, blocking his path. “Santiago called just before dawn,” he said.
Ah. Roke had heard the stirrings as he’d lain down to rest for the day, but it had been too late to seek out the cause.
“It must have been a helluva call for you to summon the A-team from their gargoyle duty.” He sent a taunting glance toward the larger-than-usual vampire with a long blond braid and fierce blue eyes. Jagr had recently become the official leader of the Ravens. “Is the world coming to an end?”
The vampire stepped forward, looking every inch the Visigoth warrior he’d once been. “No, but your end can be easily arranged, Tonto,” he growled.
Roke snorted. “Don’t you have a village to plunder, Goth-boy?”
Styx allowed his power to slice through the air with an icy edge. The surrounding vampires flinched in pain.
Clearly the Anasso was in a mood.
“Jagr, I’ll leave it to you to arrange the patrols. Make sure no one goes alone,” he commanded, his dark gaze never wavering from Roke. “You, come with me.”
Not giving Roke an option, Styx grabbed him by the upper arm and led him down the marble hallway. They halted on the landing of the wide staircase.
Roke pulled free of his companion’s grasp, studying Styx’s tense features. “Is Santiago in trouble?” he abruptly demanded.
The older vampire grimaced. “Santiago spends his life skirting on the edge of trouble.”
“Perhaps I should have asked if he was in more trouble than usual.”
“No, his call was concerning Gaius.”
“What about him?”
“It seems the bastard has acquired a nasty new talent.”
That didn’t sound good.
“Should I ask?”
“Santiago claims that his former sire is capable of infecting humans with his bite.”
“Infecting them with what?”
“Violence.”
Roke frowned. Was this some sort of joke? “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either, but I’m sending out scouts to make sure we prevent any unwelcome surprises,” Styx muttered.
“Perfect.” Roke pounced on the excuse to escape the lair. “Sign me up.”
“Not you.” Styx swiftly shut him down. “I need you to stay here.”
Roke barely swallowed his growl of annoyance. “Why?”
“I’m leaving in a few minutes to try and gain an audience with the Oracles.”
“And?” Roke prompted.
Styx shrugged, his expression guarded. “And I need you to protect the lair.”
Roke was getting a bad feeling about this.
A very bad feeling.
“And?”
“And to keep an eye on our guest.”
Shit, he knew it.
“The witch?” he ground out.
“Unless you’ve added to our collection in the dungeons?”
“Why would I?” He planted his hands on his hips, glaring at the older vampire. “I don’t want to take care of the one we’ve got.”
“It’s only until we’ve discovered what the hell is going on with Gaius.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Easy?” Styx met him glare for glare. “Would you rather go speak with the Oracles?”
Oh . . . hell, no.
Not that he was about to admit as much to the towering Aztec in front of him. “You know what I want,” he instead snapped.
Styx paused, studying Roke with a piercing intelligence. “Is there something going on with this witch I should know about?”
Roke clenched his hands. What was there to know about? That he’d spent the daylight hours plagued by the thought of warm ivory skin and glorious autumn hair that smelled of peaches? That he’d had to force his feet to carry him to the library rather than heading down to the dungeons?
“Not a damned thing,” he snarled.
Styx lifted a brow, but he was smart enough to keep his opinion to himself. “Good, then I want you to question her again,” he said. “See if she knows anything about the supposed infection that Gaius is spreading.”
Roke was shaking his head before Styx was done. “Get someone else. She won’t talk to me.”
Styx leaned forward, the air taking on a distinct chill of irritation. “Then make her talk.”
“Torture?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I don’t torture helpless females locked in my dungeons.” Styx shook his head, the tiny turquoise amulets threaded through his long braid tinkling at the movement. “I meant charm. You do remember how to seduce a young, beautiful woman, don’t you?”
A combustible heat scalded through his lower body, assuring Roke that he remembered in exquisite detail how to seduce a beautiful woman, even if it had been far too long since he’d felt like indulging in it.
Until now.
Dangerous.
“She’s not a woman, she’s a witch,” he muttered.
“Christ. Fine,” Styx snapped in exasperation. “I’ll send Spike to—”
“No,” Roke interrupted before he could halt the harsh words. There was no way Spike was getting anywhere close to Sally. The younger vampire would have her flat on her back and his fangs deep in her throat before she knew what was happening. And that was . . . unacceptable. Why? That was a question he didn’t intend to answer. “I’ll take care of the witch.”
Chapter 9
Harpy house in Louisiana
 
Santiago woke with every expectation of finding Nefri in his arms.
Why wouldn’t he?
They’d come together in an earth-shattering explosion of pleasure. More than once. The sort of pleasure that made lovers want to linger in bed and explore one another for hours. Days. Perhaps centuries.
Instead Nefri was not only out of bed, but she’d showered and changed into a pair of clean jeans and a pale blue sweater that she must have gotten from the Harpies. More telling, she was putting off vibes that warned she wasn’t in a hurry to leap back into bed.
With a grimace, Santiago headed into the shower, not surprised to discover a pair of jeans and sweatshirt waiting for him on the counter.
If Nefri didn’t need him to track down Gaius she would no doubt have escaped while he was sleeping. As it was, she was doing everything in her power to make sure he understood that last night (or rather early this morning) was a mistake.
One she didn’t intend to repeat.
Not that he was about to be tossed into the pile of Nefri’s bad decisions, he grimly decided, stepping beneath the hot water.
She’d been with him all the way.
Hell, she’d nearly shredded his back during their last delectable tango.
A shudder raced through his body at the vivid memory of Nefri spread beneath him, her eyes dark with a passion that threatened to drown them both.
Oh no.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
Swiftly washing his hair and skimming the soap over his body, he exited the shower and dried off. Then, taking time to pull on the jeans and black sweatshirt, he braided his hair, and headed out of the bathroom.
The bedroom was empty. No surprise there. But the tidal wave of her power assured him she hadn’t gone far.
He stepped into the living room, his brows lifting at the sight of Nefri seated cross-legged in the middle of the floor, her eyes closed and her hands folded in her lap as her hair floated on the faint breeze stirred by her powers.
At his entrance, her lashes lifted to reveal eyes that were carefully devoid of emotion.
“Meditation?” he drawled, trying to keep his temper in check. Not easy when she was studying him like he was a virus that had to be endured for the greater good.
“It clears my mind,” she said, smoothly rising to her feet.
He snorted, not fooled for a second. A vampire didn’t use that amount of power to find their inner self.
“And you were hoping to contact the Oracles?”
Her eyes narrowed. “If only you were as clever as you think you are.”
He slowly paced to stand mere inches from her. “I’m not only as clever as I think I am, but I’m even better looking.”
She stepped back before she could hide her revealing retreat. Then, squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to meet his wicked grin. “Did you convince Styx to send out his Ravens?”
His gaze lowered to the lush red lips, a ready heat spreading through his body. Oh, the havoc those lips could wreak.
“Once I assured him the gargoyle was no longer missing.”
“Styx was concerned about Levet?” she asked in bewilderment.
“Not Styx. Darcy,” he corrected her. “Like me, the Anasso couldn’t care less if the aggravating pest stayed absent.”
“Ah.” The cool composure slammed back into place. “I’ve already had word that he’s waiting for us just north of here.” She waved her hand toward the glass of blood that was set on the low table. “You should eat so we can join him.”
He crossed to lift the glass to his lips, draining it in one long swallow.
It held the rich flavor of Harpy, but it wasn’t the jasmine-scented blood he longed for. Still, it replenished his strength. Anything else would obviously have to wait.
Replacing the empty glass on the table, he turned back to study his companion. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
She shrugged. “I need very little sustenance.”
Hmmm. Interesting. Santiago had heard rumors that there were those behind the Veil who abstained completely from blood. Just another way to make themselves superior to their more savage brethren, he wryly assumed.
“Because of your age or because of your time behind the Veil?”
She arched a brow. “It’s hardly polite to discuss a woman’s age.”
“Why are you so secretive?”
“I’m not.”
“Then answer the question. Do you feed?”
Something that was almost an emotion flared through her eyes before it was ruthlessly squashed. “Not when I’m with my clan.”
“So it’s true that the Veil steals all hunger?”
Her jaw clenched. He knew she hated being questioned almost as much as she hated revealing anything about the mysteries beyond the Veil. Thankfully she’d learned that he was just as stubborn as she was.
“It diminishes the more primitive needs,” she admitted in clipped tones.
“And passions?”
“For most.”
He grimaced. Endless nights without desire or hunger or pleasure?
“Why the hell would anyone choose to live there?”
“There are those of us who have interests beyond physical satisfaction,” she informed him with an edge of censure.
Ah. A challenge. He returned his attention to the temptation of her lips as he moved to stand close enough to be wrapped in her jasmine scent. “There’s a lot to be said for physical satisfaction,” he reminded her in a husky voice.
She stiffened, but held her ground. “And even more to be said for the powers that come from abstinence.”
“What powers?” he swiftly pounced.
She abruptly turned away, heading toward the door. “If you’re finished we should go.”
He moved to stand in her path. “What powers?”
A burst of frigid energy lashed against him, just a small taste of her displeasure.
Damn. Why was that so sexy?
“I’ve told you before that the talents of vampires are as varied behind the Veil as they are in this world.”
He pretended that he didn’t notice the tightness of her features that warned he was wearing on her last nerve. Unless he pushed the issue he would never truly discover the woman beneath the clan chief.
And he wanted that.
With a brutal need that was more than a little frightening.
“I know there’s shape-shifting and mist-walking.”
“Yes.”
“And the ability to pass as human?” he asked, referring to the rumors that there were vampires who could feign breathing, a heartbeat, and even warm their skin.
“For a rare few.”
“Day-walkers?”
“Even fewer.”
“Dios.”
He didn’t bother to hide his surprise. He hadn’t truly believed it was possible. “Can you walk in the daylight?”
“Long ago I could endure the sun for very limited periods of time.”
“Why not now?”
“Because my visits have become more frequent to this world,” she said, her composure a brittle shell. “It steals my abilities.”
“Why have they been more frequent?”
“There was an . . . incident two centuries ago that I had to handle and more recently I devoted my attention to searching for the prophet.” Her dark gaze shifted toward the door, her profile rigid. “I had hoped that once the Dark Lord was defeated I would be allowed to return to my studies.”
Santiago scowled, disgruntled by her regret. It appeared painfully genuine. Was this a warning that her place was firmly behind the Veil?
And if it was, how could he argue?
She was a clan chief. A leader who was treated almost with godlike reverence by her people.
What was there for her on this side? Him? Big freaking deal.
The knowledge made him . . . irritable.
“Return to your studies or to forget me?” he growled.
She turned back to meet his smoldering glare. “What?”
“Admit the truth. You wanted to flee behind your Veil and pretend you hadn’t lusted after a mere savage,” he clarified.
With a cool glare she moved around his stiff form, her head held high. “We’re wasting time.”
“Sí,”
he hissed, not sure if he was more annoyed with her or himself for caring that she was eager to leave him behind. “We clearly have better things to be doing.”
“Santiago?”
“Let’s go.”
 
 
Gaius’s lair in Wisconsin
 
Gaius returned from searching the thick woods for any sign of intruders to discover Dara standing on the bottom of the stairs. With her hand on the wood banister and her dark hair floating on an invisible breeze, she appeared to be more a specter than a flesh and blood woman.
A part of him longed to rush across the narrow space to wrap her fragile form in the protection of his arms. A greater part, however, kept him standing frozen in the doorway.
“What are you doing out of bed, beloved?” he asked softly.
A pout marred her perfect face. “My dinner is dead.”
He frowned. “Already?”
“You only brought me three and one escaped.”
Escaped. It took long minutes for the word to sink through his sluggish brain. Then he was clenching his hands in weary frustration.
Dio.
This was how it started in Louisiana. One and then two survivors escaping to stir the locals into a panic. He couldn’t allow it to happen again.
“Which one?”
“The male.”
“I must track him down.”
Dara lifted a slender shoulder. “Why bother?”
“Because he could lead the humans to us,” he said, barely able to contain his rising irritation. The last thing he desired was spending the rest of the night trailing the stupid human.
He wanted . . . what? A few hours of peace, he abruptly realized. A chance to relax and enjoy the return of his mate without the constant need to tend to her hungers.
“No one would believe him,” she sought to assure him, floating forward.
“It’s too dangerous,” he insisted.
“No,
habibi
.” Her voice was surprisingly commanding, the dark eyes holding his gaze with a hypnotic power. “Allow him to return to the village. He will seed our garden.”
“Seed our garden?” he parroted.
With a slender wave of her hand, Dara pushed open the nearest windows, a coy smile curving her lips.
“Can’t you feel it, Gaius?” She shivered with delight at the strange sense of lust that pulsed in the air. “Our time has arrived.”

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