Devoured By Darkness (10 page)

A dark, sweetly potent force that concealed a sickening rot.

“A clever woman always has the means to control a man whether he is a deformed gargoyle or a god,” she husked.

“Ah,” Levet’s tail twitched as Marika tugged on his horn.
“Oui.”

Laylah rolled her eyes. Men. They were all the same. No matter what their size.

“How do you intend …” Her words broke off as she was hit with a terrifying suspicion. “Oh my gods. The baby.”

Marika shot her a mocking glance. “Perhaps you’re not so stupid as I thought.”

“What?” Levet shook off the sensual spell, absently scrubbing his horn as if trying to rid himself of the lingering feel of the vampire’s hand. “What is it?”

Her stomach clenched with guilt. Dammit. She’d been an idiot. A selfish idiot.

In her haste to come to London and track some vague rumor of a Jinn (who hadn’t been spotted for over two hundred years), she’d not only left the baby to be protected by mere wood sprites, but after years of keeping them both hidden, she’d now alerted the world there was a mongrel Jinn roaming around and then proceeded to waltz straight into the hands of her family, who also happened to be her worst enemies.

A record screw-up, even for her.

“Somehow she intends to have the Dark Lord resurrected into the child,” she told Levet, her gaze never wavering from the cold perfection of Marika’s face.

“Sergei has promised he possesses the necessary talent for such a miracle.” The vampire turned toward the mage with a taunting smile. “Let us hope he has not exaggerated his skills.”

Sergei shrugged, looking his usual smug self. But Laylah didn’t miss the unease in the back of the pale blue eyes.

Either the bastard wasn’t nearly so confident in his ability to resurrect evil deities as he pretended, or he was intelligent enough to be terrified of his partner.

Laylah was betting on the terrified option.

“I never promise more than I can deliver,” he drawled.

“Even if you did manage to resurrect the Dark Lord what good would he be to you as a mere child?” Laylah demanded.

If she did survive this encounter, then she needed all the information she could scrape together. She’d been stumbling through the dark for far too long.

How could she protect the baby if she didn’t understand the dangers?

“Children eventually mature.” She gave a toss of her raven curls. “Carefully protected by their devoted mother, of course.”

“Mother?” Laylah twitched at the mere thought. She wasn’t sure even the Dark Lord deserved such a hideous fate. “You?”

“How better to mold a god to suit my purpose?” Marika threw her arms wide. “When he at last regains his rightful place as the master of this world, I will stand at his side.”

Laylah swallowed the urge to laugh as the image of Leonardo DiCaprio standing at the rail of the Titanic shouting ‘I’m king of the world’ flashed through her mind.

There was nothing amusing in the thought of a demented vampire and an evil god taking over the world.

She turned toward the mage, bristling with anger at the memory of his deliberate cruelty. One day she was going to knock that cocky smile from his lips.

“That’s why you kidnapped me? To get the child?”

“Only a Jinn could enter the veil surrounding the cavern and since there’s no mage insane enough to trust such a rare treasure in the hands of a full-blooded Jinn, it was obvious we would need a mongrel.”

Her mind shied from the thought of what her mother must have suffered at the hands of the Jinn.

She would deal with the depraved method of her conception when she didn’t have an Armageddon hanging over her head.

Instead she concentrated on the child she’d sworn to protect.

“Did the Dark Lord create the baby or just donate the

DNA?”

“What does it matter?” There was a peevish edge to Marika’s voice, as if annoyed by the question. Odd. She’d answered the others readily enough. “I heard rumors of its existence and knew it would be the perfect means to take my rightful place.”

Laylah swallowed the lump in her throat.

The only rightful place for Auntie Marika was in the nearest looney bin.

“Where are you keeping my mother?”

The vampire slowly blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject.

Unfortunately, Laylah’s hope she might blurt out the truth was doomed to failure. Instead, a calculating expression hardened her delicate features.

“Ah. Poor Kata,” she purred. “I can’t tell you how it’s broken my heart to have kept her locked away. But really, she gave me no choice.” She slid forward, the scent of expensive perfume and cold malice wrapping around Laylah. “Of course, now that we have you, there’s no longer a need for her to remain my prisoner. With the proper incentive I might be convinced to release her.”

Laylah’s throat threatened to seal shut as the vampire cupped her cheek with icy fingers.

She’d never tested the limits of her ability to heal.

She preferred not to start now.

“Incentive?” she managed to choke out.

The fingers on her face tightened, the nails digging into her flesh.

“The child.”

“Laylah …” Levet tugged on her jeans. “No.”

“Shut up, gargoyle,” Sergei snarled.

Marika ignored the peanut gallery, her dark eyes boring into Laylah with the flat, soulless gaze of a snake.

“What do you say, niece?” she urged. “Surely we can come to an agreement that’s mutually beneficial? After all, the child is worthless to you.”

Laylah swallowed her words of protest. At the moment the baby was her only bargaining chip. And her only means out of the cellar alive. “Hardly worthless.”

Marika studied her with undisguised suspicion. “You want to barter?”

Laylah forced a smile. “You did claim that I have gypsy blood.”

Levet tugged on her jeans. “Laylah.”

Sergei lifted his hand, sending an invisible blast of energy slamming into the tiny gargoyle.

“I said shut up,” the mage thundered.

Laylah glared at the towering bully. “That’s not the best way to start negotiations.”

Marika’s grip threatened to crush Laylah’s jaw as she jerked her back to meet the vicious craving that lurked deep in the brown eyes.

The vampire’s lust for power had become a dangerous addiction.

One that might very well be the death of Laylah. “I want the child.”

“Yeah.” Laylah tried to swallow, her bones beginning to crack beneath the pressure of those slender fingers. “I got that.”

“And I’ll do whatever necessary to get my hands on the brat,” Marika hissed. “Beginning with the sacrifice of Kata if you don’t give me what I want.”

Visions of death danced before Laylah’s eyes, but before the demented vampire could snap and slaughter them all, Sergei was laying a restraining hand on Marika’s arm.

Brave mage.

“Marika,” he murmured softly. “We’re no longer alone.”

There was a tense moment as the female battled back her bloodlust, her punishing grip on Laylah’s face easing as she tilted back her head to test the air.

Her beautiful face twisted with frustrated fury. “Victor.”

“And his entire clan.” Sergei was already headed for the door. “We have to leave.”

Marika shook her head. “Not without my prize.”

Taking advantage of the vampire’s momentary distraction, Laylah jerked free of her grasp, then gathering Levet close she held up a warning hand, more surprised than anyone when the earth trembled and a large chunk of rock fell from the ceiling to knock Marika to the ground.

“Stay back,” she gritted.

“You bitch. Do you have no respect for a Valentino original?” Rising to her feet, Marika brushed off the clinging dust, more concerned with the gown than the jagged wound on her shoulder. Of course, the wound would heal. The gown? It might be a write-off. “You’ll pay for that.”

Laylah braced herself for the looming attack, but with remarkable speed Sergei was grabbing the infuriated vampire’s arm and tugging her toward the door.

“Marika, let’s go.”

Frigid hatred hung in the air, but Laylah’s powers once again lashed out, cracking the stone floor and filling the air with the prickle of an approaching lightning strike.

An impressive display of powers.

A pity that they spent most of their time in hibernation. And when they did decide to appear they usually created more trouble than they were worth.

Thankfully, Marika was suitably freaked by tremors that continued to rock the cavern, and backing toward the entrance, she sent Laylah a glare of venomous warning.

“Bring the child to me or I will make your mother suffer unimaginable pain.”

Laylah tilted her chin. “Go to hell.”

The woman hissed. “Then spend the rest of your life knowing that she’s screaming in agony and that you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Smiling at the fear that Laylah couldn’t entirely hide, Marika allowed Sergei to pull her out of the cavern.

Alone with Levet, Laylah dropped to her knees, her power switched off as abruptly as it had switched on.

Dammit. She’d survived the encounter with her aunt-from-hell, but at what cost?

“Laylah.”

The distant sound of Tane calling her name echoed through the cellar. So distant that she could almost pretend that the edge in the dark, smoky voice was fear instead of fury.

She tried to rise to her feet.

Within moments the cavern would be filled with vampires and she didn’t want anyone seeing her on her knees. Not again.

But her body refused to cooperate. Instead a tide of darkness began to creep relentlessly through her mind.

Obviously even mini-earthquakes took their toll on her strength.

She trembled, her head spinning. Then, as the cool, exotically male scent of Tane filled the cavern, she found herself tumbling into a pair of waiting arms.

Tane was vaguely aware of the wary vampires who scurried to clear him a path as he stormed his way from the London town house to Victor’s lair. And the curious glances at the sight of him cradling the unconscious woman in his arms as he headed up the stairs to the privacy of the ivory and lavender bedroom.

But beyond demanding that Levet reveal precisely what had occurred from the moment Laylah had left the country estate until she’d fainted in his arms, he’d been indifferent to all but overriding need to have this woman safely hidden from those who would harm her.

And far away from prying eyes so he could personally demonstrate his opinion of impetuous, pigheaded Jinn mongrels who didn’t have the sense of a drunken dew fairy.

Entering the vast room that was softly lit by a fire in the marble fireplace, he kicked shut the door with enough force to rattle the windows. Then, crossing the floor he ruined his splendid display of bad temper by settling her slender body on the canopied bed with a gentleness that was utterly foreign to him.

On the point of straightening, Tane was halted as Laylah’s thick tangle of lashes slowly lifted to expose the weary amusement shimmering in her dark eyes.

“Feel better?”

“No,” he growled, his throat tightening with a terrifying relief as Laylah struggled back to consciousness. “The next time you try to take off without me I’ll have you locked in chains and thrown into Victor’s dungeon.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

He snorted as he settled on the mattress next to her, his hand instinctively reaching to brush over her pale cheek.

“You sound like a spoiled human.”

“It doesn’t make it any less true.” Her voice was weak, but her magnificent eyes flashed with stubborn independence. “I don’t have to take orders from you.”

His frigid power blasted through the air as he recalled his alarm when he’d discovered she’d slipped away.

Victor had been forced to physically restrain him from charging through the dark in pursuit, and it was only because Juliet assured him she knew exactly where to find Laylah and the obnoxious gargoyle that he wasn’t currently ripping London apart brick by soggy brick.

“You’re not that naïve, Laylah.” He leaned down until they were nose to nose, absorbing her scent that was becoming fatally addictive. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you blindly charge into danger.”

Her hands lifted to press against his chest. He shuddered as the heat of her palms seared against his skin, melting his icy fury and replacing it with a far more pleasurable sensation.

“It’s none of your business.”

He stole a brief, starkly possessive kiss. “Have you forgotten that you’re my prisoner?”

She flexed her fingers, digging into his flesh with just enough pain to bring pleasure.

Tane groaned, lust slamming into him with an intensity that might have been shocking if he’d been in his right senses.

But he wasn’t.

And he hadn’t been since he’d gone on the chase of a mongrel Jinn.

“I think you have that backward. You’re my prisoner.” She sucked in a startled breath as he grabbed the hoodie and with one smooth motion had it yanked off her body and tossed on a dainty Louis XIV chair across the room. “What the hell are you doing?”

He curled back his lips to reveal his elongated fangs that throbbed with need.

Gods, he
ached
to taste her.

Never had his hunger been so acute.

Not even during those dark days when he’d retreated from the world, feeding only when his body compelled him to seek substance.

But he’d just watched her collapse in his arms after a brutal skirmish with a vicious vampire and a mage who had some mysterious connection to her past.

His primal need to protect her overcame the lust for her blood on his tongue.

Amazing.

Of course, there was more than one way of satisfying his hunger.

Lowering his head he used his fangs to slice through the thin top, liquid heat pouring through him as the yellow fabric fell to the side, revealing the bit of lace that did nothing to hide the swell of her breasts.

“If we’re going to fight then we might as well do it in comfort.”

Her eyes widened, but it wasn’t fear that flared in the midnight depths. He smiled as her ready arousal filled the air with a heady perfume.

“No, Tane,” she breathed. “We can’t.”

“We’ve already proven we can,” he said, his voice deepening, thick with need. “With spectacular results.”

Around him he sensed Victor’s clan bustling through the manor house, no doubt discussing the best strategy of dealing with the traitorous Lady Havassy and her mage sidekick. Not to mention the threat of a looming apocalypse.

Discussions Tane should be a part of.

Instead he was wholly focused on the woman who challenged him on every level.

He needed … what?

To prove his dominance? To mark his territory? To reassure himself that she was unharmed and back in his arms where she belonged?

Something knotted in his chest.

Something that was too dangerous to contemplate.

As if battling her own inner demons, Laylah lifted her hands to knot her fingers in his hair, attempting to hide the raw need he could sense spreading through her body.

“I have …” She caught the betraying words. “Things I have to do.”

His lips twisted. Would she ever trust him with her secrets? “Collecting the child?”

Her breath caught at his blunt question. “How did you know?”

“Levet was urged to confess what happened after you snuck away.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Urged or forced?”

He shrugged, his fingers skimming along the lacy line of her bra before headed down the warm satin of her stomach. Pure male satisfaction raced through him as he felt her muscles contract in pleasure beneath his light caress, even as he growled in frustration at the amulet that hung around her neck.

He could savor her delectable heat and her rising passion, but the unique aroma of fresh spring rain was hidden by the witch’s spell.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be wrapped in her distinctive smell.

“I’ve made preparations for our return to the States,” he assured her, his fingers making short work of the button fly so he could tug off her jeans. With a toss they landed next to the sweatshirt.

Her eyes flashed with annoyance, but she made no effort to halt the soft brush of his hand over her bare thigh.

“I don’t need you making my travel plans. I’ll return the same way I came.”

“Brave talk, but you forget that we’re bound together.” He leaned down to nip at the lobe of her ear, not bothering to mention his awareness of her had nothing to do with her magical powers, and everything to do with a male fascinated with a particular woman. “I can feel your lingering weakness.”

She stiffened, as if troubled by the knowledge he could so easily detect her vulnerabilities.

“I’m not powerless.”

“No,” he was swift to agree, his lips tasting a path down the temptation of her throat. Laylah was fragile. Not only had she exhausted herself fighting off the bitch vampire and mage, but she was mentally traumatized by her introduction to her supposed family from hell. Tane, however, understood her need to appear strong. It was a part of who she was. And for all his sins, he would never crush her spirit. “Never powerless, but you’re drained and in need of rest.”

She stirred as his fingers found the edge of her panties, her hip pressing against the thickening length of his erection as her lips parted on a soft moan of anticipation.

Still, she struggled against her body’s need.

“I don’t have the luxury of resting. If those freaks get their hands on the baby …”

“Laylah, Victor has a fleet of private jets at his disposal,” he interrupted in rough tones, abruptly rolling to press her into the mattress. He didn’t want her able to think when he was seducing her. He wanted her consumed by her lust. Consumed by him. He buried his face in the tender curve where her neck met her shoulder. “One is currently being prepared for us.”

She gripped his shoulders, arching in silent invitation as he jerked off his khakis before settling between her legs.

“Vampires fly?” she husked.

He lightly scraped his fangs down her collarbone, using his centuries of experience to unhook her lacy bra and pull it away without her realizing it was missing.

“Only on planes that are built to protect us and with loyal servants that can stand guard,” he absently answered, his attention fully intent on the soft mounds of her breasts that were crested with dusky pink nipples already beaded in anticipation. “We’ll be in Chicago within a matter of hours.”

“Fine …”

Her words ended in a breathy sigh as he took one of the nipples in his mouth, a groan of approval rumbling through him as her hands skimmed down his back, filling an aching need deep inside him.

Gods, he was a vampire not a Were.

Why the hell did he crave her touch with such intensity?

“Of course, it will be another hour before it’s ready to depart,” he said, tracing the underside of her breast with his tongue before heading lower.

So far as he was concerned the private plane could wait an eternity.

She lifted herself onto her elbows, a flush of desire staining her ivory skin as she watched him kiss his way down the curve of her hip, pulling her tiny panties out of his path.

“I need to speak with Victor,” she said, her voice a strangled gasp.

He settled between her legs, nibbling the satin skin of her inner thigh.

“Why?”

She swallowed a scream as he shifted to run his tongue through her damp heat.

“My …” She gripped the bedspread, her breath coming in shallow pants. “My reasons don’t concern you.”

Tane chuckled. His hands shifted to press against her lower stomach, keeping her locked in place as he licked and nibbled and at last sucked on the tiny jewel that hid the source of her pleasure.

She moaned, flopping back on the pillows with a boneless motion.

Still he continued to tease her. Only when he sensed she was on the edge of her climax did he surge upward, looming over her with the tip of his cock nestled at her entrance.

“Do you find it a moral imperative to argue with everyone or is it just me?” he demanded.

She reached up to wrap his hair around her hand, jerking him down for a kiss that was raw with feminine need.

“I don’t like being bullied.”

With one smooth thrust he buried himself deep inside her, their matching groans of satisfaction filling the air.

“There will be no mistake if I decide to bully you, my sweet Laylah,” he rasped.

He devoured her lips in a kiss of unrestrained urgency, slowly arching his hips before sliding back into her tight sheathe. He shuddered as her hips lifted to meet his thrust, her tongue tangling with his in a dance of erotic pleasure.

Someday he intended to spend hours seducing this complex, impossible female.

No, not hours … weeks, perhaps months.

But for now the lust was too new, too potent.

It was a fire that threatened to consume him.

Crushing the urge to sink his fangs deep in her tender flesh, Tane instead concentrated on the exquisite sensation of plunging into the welcoming heat of her body. Muttering words in the language of his ancestors that he hadn’t used in centuries, he set a driving pace that had them both spiraling toward an explosive release.

Savoring Laylah’s rasping attempts to regain her breath, he waited for her tiny shudders to ease before rolling to the side, gathering her tightly in his arms.

He wasn’t cuddling.

Unmated vampires didn’t do cuddling.

They had sex. Period. End of story.

But, Laylah was not like his usual lovers and he wouldn’t put it past her to try and bolt despite the staggering pleasure they’d just shared. He didn’t have the time or energy to chase her down.

Satisfied with the dubious explanation, Tane pressed her head into the curve of his shoulder, once again ruing the amulet that disguised her sweet scent.

“Now, tell me why you want to speak with Victor,” he commanded.

She stiffened, but astonishingly she didn’t try to struggle out of his possessive grip.

Not that he was stupid enough to believe she’d conceded defeat. No. This was merely a temporary reprieve. One that would last only as long as she believed she needed him.

Tilting back her head, she met his searching gaze.

“My …” She halted, considering her words. “A woman claiming to be my mother is being held captive. She must be found and released.”

“I know.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Victor has promised to send Uriel in search of the female.”

He didn’t add that it would be several days before Victor could negotiate with the local coven to cast a spell to find where the female was hidden.

Her brows snapped together. “Without even asking if I might want to join in the hunt? Typical.” Her expression made Tane glad there wasn’t a sharpened stake handy. “She’s my mother.”

He met her accusing glare without flinching, refusing to apologize. She could have her pride, but he’d learned a brutal lesson in allowing emotions to overcome common sense. Until Laylah had the opportunity to calm down and fully investigate what she’d discovered in the cellar of the London town house she wasn’t going to be making the decisions.

“No, you had it right the first time,” he said. “She’s a strange female who claims to be your mother.”

Her lips thinned. “Do you have a point?”

“There’s a good chance the woman is nothing more than clever bait.”

“Bait for what?”

“You.”

She shook her head. “That’s impossible.”

“Why? Boris and Natasha made it clear they were willing to go to any lengths to get their grubby hands on the child.” He smiled at the surprise etched on her face at his reference to Bullwinkle. No doubt she assumed he spent his leisure hours sharpening swords and eating children for breakfast. She wouldn’t be alone. “How better than to blackmail you into simply handing the babe over in exchange for your long lost mother?”