When Darkness Ends (30 page)

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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

BOOK: When Darkness Ends
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Cyn scowled. He refused to believe for a second that Fallon didn't want to be with him.
It was unthinkable.
“Just go.”
Magnus disappeared as he stepped through the doorway, leaving behind a Cyn who was so tense he could barely stand still.
“I don't like this,” Styx growled.
Cyn wasn't crazy about it either. It wasn't as if he had a reason to trust the Chatri. Still, he didn't have a lot of options.
In desperate need of a distraction, he turned back to his companion.
“Have the Commission bothered to pass along their thanks for preventing them from nearly destroying the world?” he asked.
Styx rolled his eyes. “No gratitude, but Siljar did say that they have been gathered in one place for too long. They've decided to depart for their individual lairs.”
Cyn smiled. It was traditional for the Oracles to remain spread around the world to prevent too much power in one place. It was only because of the numerous threats to the world that they'd remained in the caves for so long.
“I'm sure you're heartbroken to have them out of your territory.”
“Good riddance,” Styx said with feeling. “I just want a few centuries of peace so I can enjoy my mate without constant interruptions.”
“Agreed.” Bloody hell. The thought of spending the next hundred years or so with nothing to do but hold Fallon in his arms sounded like paradise. “If I ever get my hands on my mate.”
Styx placed his hand on Cyn's shoulder. “She'll come.”
As if on cue, there was a tingle in the air and Fallon stepped into the meadow closely followed by Magnus.
His entire body shook with a gut-deep joy, his arms spread wide as she dashed across the frozen ground to toss herself against his chest.
“Cyn,” she cried softly, her hands wrapping around his neck as he hugged her so tightly he feared he might leave bruises.
Still, he couldn't loosen his grip.
She'd been stolen away from him.
Taken to a place he couldn't follow.
It was going to take a few decades before he ever let her out of his sight again.
“Fallon,” he groaned, burying his face in the silken cloud of her hair to absorb her intoxicating champagne scent. “I've been waiting for you.”
“I know.” She pressed her lips to his throat, sending a jolt of aching pleasure through him. “I could scry you, but my father had blocked my room so I couldn't leave.”
“Bastard,” he muttered, lifting his head so he could run a searching gaze over her slender body. “Are you fully healed?”
A brilliant smile curved her lips. “Yes.”
He flinched at the memory of watching her collapse beneath the impact of the Commission's magic.
Christ. She was lucky to be alive.
“Forgive me,” he rasped. “I should never have allowed—”
“Ssh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “We did what we had to do and now it's over. All I care about is the future.”
Cyn cast a quick glance around the meadow, not particularly surprised to discover they were alone.
Styx would have insisted that Magnus return him to Chicago so Cyn could have privacy with his potential mate.
“Aye. The future.” He hesitated, knowing that the next few minutes were the most important in his very long life. “You know what I desire.”
She arched back, her eyes glowing with a heated awareness that made him instantly hard.
“Tell me,” she urged in a husky voice.
Hell. He needed to get her back to his lair.
He could spread her across his bed and gently remove the silk robe before . . .
Desperately he battled to control his primitive urges.
The next time he made love to this exquisite female, he fully intended for them to be formally bound together.
“I want us to be mated,” he bluntly admitted, his hand cupping her cheek as he gazed down at the female who'd become a necessary part of his life.
“You're sure?”
He gave a short laugh, his chest feeling as if it were being squeezed by a painful vise.
“Princess, I couldn't be more sure,” he said with a fierce sincerity.
“Then what are you waiting for?” she demanded.
He stiffened, half afraid that this was a dream.
“You want to go through with the mating ceremony?” he demanded, framing her face in his hands. He had to make sure she truly understood what she was agreeing to. “Once we exchange blood we can't go back. We'll be permanently tied together.”
Going on her tiptoes, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Berserker, I couldn't be more sure.”
Oh . . . hell.
Relief blasted through his heart, his fangs lengthened, the urge to sink them deep into her flesh an overwhelming force.
Only the knowledge that they could be interrupted at any time by her father allowed him to restrain his primeval impulse.
Leaning down, he kissed her with a barely leashed hunger. “Then let's go home.”
“Home.” Her face lit with a smile of pure joy. A joy that was echoed deep inside of Cyn. “Finally.”
“Eternally,” he promised, holding her close as she formed a portal and the world melted away.
Epilogue
Every one of Viper's numerous demon clubs was a direct reflection of his own taste.
Flamboyant, excessive, and dramatically over the top. But while all of them were guaranteed to please the most finicky demon, the Viper Pit in Chicago was by far the most exclusive.
The by-invitation-only club was hidden behind a subtle glamour that made it look like an abandoned warehouse to keep away the riffraff.
Inside, however, the public room was decorated with white marble pillars and glittering fountains that served as a perfect backdrop for the dew fairies who were performing a complex dance to the oohs and ahhs of the crowd of demons.
In the back of the club a line of tables had been situated where the guests could gamble. And for those searching for more . . . intimate entertainment, there were private rooms where they could join in the ongoing orgies or start one of their own.
Ignoring the excitement that rippled through the room at his entrance, Styx strolled onto the private balcony where Dante and Viper were seated at a table sharing a bottle of brandy from Viper's private stock.
As usual, Dante looked like a pirate in his casual jeans and a leather jacket with a golden hoop dangling from one ear. Viper, on the other hand, was wearing a long velvet jacket with a lacy shirt that was more fitting for a Regency ballroom.
Styx had chosen his usual black leather.
Why mess with a classic style?
Both men gave a lift of their brows at his unexpected arrival, but it was Viper who said the words they were both thinking.
“If you've come here to tell us the end of the world is about to arrive then you can shove it. This is my night off.”
Styx chuckled. He didn't blame his friends for giving him the hairy eyeball.
Over the past months they'd endured one disaster after another. The Dark Lord, an insane Anasso, a crazed Were spirit, Morgana la Fay, a vampire god . . .
Christ, it made him weary just remembering the enemies they'd faced.
They were all ready to take a break from impending doom.
Styx came to a halt beside the table, folding his arms over his massive chest.
“Is that any way to speak to your king?”
“Don't expect me to kiss your ass,” Viper drawled, waving a slender hand toward the dance floor below where the crowd of demons was gazing up at the balcony with unabashed curiosity. “Your adoring masses are waiting for you down there. Up here you're just another schmuck.”
“Thank God,” Styx muttered, taking a seat and reaching for the bottle.
“So what brings you to my humble establishment?” Viper demanded.
He poured himself a glass and settled back in his chair. “For once all I desire is a few hours to enjoy the company of my friends and your finest brandy.”
“No looming apocalypse?” Viper pressed.
Styx took a sip of the aged brandy, savoring the fiery burn. “Not one.”
Viper reached for the bottle, his expression one of genuine relief.
“I'll drink to that.”
Dante was quick to replenish his own glass. “Here, here.” Styx grimaced. “It's been an . . . adventure.”
Dante snorted, his silver eyes shimmering in the overhead chandelier that Viper had liberated from King Louis XIII's palace. Or was it XIV?
“That's one way to put it,” the younger vampire muttered.
Styx allowed his gaze to skim over the crowd who had gone back to their entertainments, a fierce surge of satisfaction racing through him at the sheer normalcy of the view.
Never again would he take the mundane things for granted . . .
Strolling along the streets without fear of a nasty surprise leaping out of the dark. Enjoying a casual drink with his friends.
Waking in his comfortable bed with Darcy wrapped in his arms.
“But not all bad,” he murmured, a smile softening his harsh features. “We have mates. New friends.” He turned his attention back to his companions. “And peace.”
Dante rapped his fingers on the table. “Knock on wood.”
“And me,” a lightly accented voice said as the tiny gargoyle flapped down from his perch among the hidden rafters. “Don't forget you have me.”
The three vampires were on their feet at the unexpected intrusion, their fangs fully extended as Levet settled on the railing of the balcony and regarded them with a smug smile.
Styx sent Viper a jaundiced frown. “I thought you had bouncers?”
Viper gave a resigned shake of his head. “I have an entire pack of hellhounds patrolling the neighborhood, but the bastard keeps slipping past them.”
Levet sniffed, his wings fluttering in a shimmering burst of color.
“Hey, I am the liver of any party.”
Styx scowled. “Liver?”
“Life, you dolt,” Dante corrected with a twitch of his lips. “The life of the party.”
“If you say so.” Levet shrugged. “Tonight, however, I am not here to dazzle you with my sparkling personality. I am here to officially quit my gig as Knight in Shining Armor.”
Styx studied the miniature pain in the ass with a suspicious glare.
Levet had appointed himself as the supposed savior of fair maidens throughout the world. A role disputed by most males forced to endure his aggravating presence. Why would he willingly retire from his imaginary position?
“Really?” Viper demanded.

Oui
.” The gargoyle looked smug. “I am going to be far too occupied with my new business.”
Styx didn't bother to disguise his astonishment. “You have a business?”
With a dramatic wave of his hand, the gargoyle produced a large stack of ivory business cards edged with gold.

Voilà
.”
Viper reached to pluck one of the cards from Levet's claws.
“COUP DE FOUDRE?” he read out loud. “What the hell does that mean?”
Levet rolled his eyes. “Can you not read French, you heathen? It means love at first sight.”
“I can translate the words,” Viper snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. “I simply don't know why you have them printed on a card.”
“Because it is the name of my dating service,” Levet said with a small sniff.
“Bloody hell.” Dante gave a sharp laugh. “You're playing Cupid?”
“Who better?” Levet demanded, acting as if he were shocked by the question. Of course, he labored under the delusional belief that he was a perfect replica of Brad Pitt, not a three-foot gargoyle who regularly created chaos. “I am, after all, an expert in matters of the heart.”
Styx swallowed his laugh. “If you say.”
“Congratulations.” Viper adjusted the lacy cuffs of his shirt. “Shouldn't you be out doing whatever love experts do?”
“But obviously I am.”
Dante shared a confused glance with Viper and Styx. “I'm afraid to ask.”
Levet turned on the railing so he could peer down at the demons who mingled below.
“Like any new business owner, I am in search of new clients.”
“And?” Styx prompted.
“And I must spread word of my services.” With a smile Levet lifted his hand and with a low word of power sent the business cards floating down to the gathered crowd. “This is the perfect venue.”
“Shit.” Lunging forward, Viper grabbed Levet by one stunted horn and dangled him so they were eye to eye. “Toss one more card and I'll rip off your wings and feed them to the hellhounds.”
“Fah, you are a pooper of the party.” Struggling until he freed himself from Viper's grip, the gargoyle gave a flap of his wings and headed back toward the rafters. “You can all consider yourself crossed off the list for a friends and family discount,” he warned as a parting shot.
Waiting until the smell of granite faded, the three friends returned to their seats, each reaching for their glasses of brandy.
Nothing like a small dose of Levet to drive a man to drink.
“Why did you let Shay break him out of the slaver's prison?” Styx demanded, regarding Viper with a chiding expression.
Viper gave a sudden laugh. “You've met my mate. No one tells her what she can and can't do.”
“True,” Styx agreed with a chuckle.
Dante lifted his glass. “To mates who don't take shit.”
Styx joined in the toast. “And to brothers who stand by one another even when facing Armageddon.”
Viper tapped his glass to theirs. “To friends.”
“For eternity,” the three finished in unison.

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