When Darkness Ends (9 page)

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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

BOOK: When Darkness Ends
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“Exploring, princess?” he at last demanded, meeting her wary gaze.
Fallon stiffened, instantly assuming he was angry. “Is that against the rules?”
“There are no rules,” he instantly hastened to assure her. “You're welcome to go wherever you want in my lair.”
“I am?”
He stepped close enough for her to feel the cool rush of his power wrap around her. Her skin prickled with awareness, her mouth dry as she resisted the urge to close the small space between them and press against his broad chest.
Crap. What was it about this vampire that set her senses on fire?
And why the hell couldn't she feel this same blistering exhilaration with Prince Magnus?
It might not bring her complete happiness, but it certainly would make the marriage less of a burden.
“As you have pointed out, you are my guest,” he said, pretending that he couldn't catch the scent of her stirring arousal.
“And only a few hours ago you were trying to get me to leave.” Her lips flattened. “In fact, you've been trying to get me to leave since we woke in the caves.”
He shrugged. “Clearly that's not going to happen. At least not in the foreseeable future. So in the meantime I want you to feel at home here.”
Fallon frowned. Okay, something was wrong.
Cyn had been bossy, irritating, and insanely sexy since he first intruded into her father's palace. But he'd never played the role of gentleman.
“Did you take a fall down the stairs?” she demanded.
He arched a brow. “Excuse me?”
“You are behaving almost civilized,” she said, not bothering to hide her suspicion. “I assume you must have taken a severe blow to the head.”
His lips twisted with a hint of regret. “This has been . . . difficult for both of us.”
She grimaced. “We can agree on that.”
“We can also agree that it's not helping for the two of us to be sniping at each other,” he said.
Fallon hesitated. She might be a complete innocent, but she sensed that she'd instinctively nurtured the nagging antagonism for a reason. Still, it seemed childish to toss his tentative olive branch back in his face.
“I did suggest we try to avoid one another,” she reminded him.
His gaze lowered to the vulnerable curve of her mouth. “I have a better solution.”
“You do?”
He had a hold of her hand and was tugging her toward a side door before she could guess his intentions.
“Come with me.”
Fallon told herself to pull away from his light grasp. Hadn't she been determined to enjoy her short time in this world? And that meant relishing a few hours of choosing what she wanted to do rather than being told where she had to be and what she had to wear and how she had to behave.
But curiosity overcame any annoyance at being tugged around like an untrained puppy. Why spend the night roaming the ancient castle alone when she could have Cyn as a guide?
Her capitulation had nothing to do with the white-hot flames of anticipation licking through her.
Did it?
Trying to pretend her heart wasn't racing and her stomach wasn't fluttering, Fallon allowed herself to be led down a flight of stairs that had been hidden behind a marble statue.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they traveled deep beneath the castle. “I don't need another tour of your caves.”
His pace slowed as they reached a narrow tunnel. “Patience.”
Fallon grimaced. Patience was the one quality that she'd been forced to develop just to survive in her world.
Now she didn't want . . .
Her spurt of irritation was forgotten as he shoved open a heavy door and allowed a flood of sunlight to fill the tunnel. Horror raced through her as she tried to drag him away from the killing rays.
“Cyn.”
“Trust me,” he murmured, resisting her frantic tugs and instead urging her forward.
Accepting that the sunlight posed no danger to her companion, Fallon cautiously stepped through the doorway and into . . . paradise.
With a gasp she took in the large meadow that was spread before her.
A cloudless blue sky seemed to spread above them, stretching toward the horizon with no beginning and no end. Below her feet was a carpet of crisp spring grass and tiny daisies where butterflies danced and floated on the cool breeze. In the distance she could see a babbling brook that was shaded by large weeping willows. And in the very center of the field was a marble grotto with fluted columns that might have been plucked from a Greek villa.
An illusion. It had to be.
And yet it was so perfectly created that she could feel the heat of the sun, smell the rich earth, and hear the distant chirp of birds.
“Oh,” she breathed, turning her head to discover Cyn watching her with an unreadable expression. “How?”
“My foster mother,” he said, his brow flicking upward as her lips twitched. “What's so amusing?”
She wrinkled her nose, allowing her toes to curl into the soft grass. Spell or not, it felt good to have the sun warming her chilled body.
“The thought of two fairies being your parents.”
“It was an odd situation.” A fond smile softened his features. “Still, I never forget that I owe them my life.”
She watched as he angled his face toward the sky, intrigued by the fey who'd obviously loved this vampire enough to bring him the sun.
“Why do you owe them your life?”
“Newly made vampires who aren't taken in by their sire rarely survive,” he murmured, his eyes closed as he savored their magical surroundings.
Fallon felt an unexpected flare of panic at the mere thought that this magnificent male might have died before he'd ever had a chance to crash into her life.
“I've never understood why vampires would create children and then abandon them,” she muttered.
Cyn shrugged. “It's something that Styx is slowly changing. Lucky for me, Erinna and Mika found me in the caves below this lair and took me into their home.”
She glanced around the meadow, awed by the amount of magic it had taken to create such a special place.
“They obviously love you.”
“Aye. Yet another rare gift for a vampire.” He opened his eyes, taking her hand to lead her toward the grotto. “I have another surprise.”
Feeling as if she'd strayed into some sort of dreamworld, Fallon allowed herself to be led across the meadow, climbing the marble stairs. Cautiously she stepped past the columns, her eyes widening at the sight of the blanket spread across the floor with a large basket and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice.
She sent a startled glance toward Cyn. “A picnic?”
The vampire moved to settle next to the basket, pouring them both a glass of champagne before he pulled out the plate of sliced fruit that had been dipped in nectar.
Exactly as she liked it.
“You need to eat.”
She blinked, slowly sinking onto the blanket. Okay, it was one thing for him to make an effort to be polite. But why would he arrange this beautiful meal?
Maybe he really had fallen down the stairs and rattled his brains.
Difficult to come up with another explanation.
“I did eat.”
“Hours ago.”
She thought back, recalling that she hadn't touched the tray that had been left outside her bedroom door before leaving to explore the castle. But how had he known?
Unless . . .
“Are you having Levet spy on me?” she demanded.
Taking a slice of apple, he pressed it to her lips. “If I have to have him in my house then he can at least make himself useful.”
Fallon took a bite of the fresh fruit, shivering as the taste exploded in her mouth. There was something unbearably intimate about being fed from his hand.
“I don't understand why you're being so nice,” she said softly, her expression unconsciously vulnerable.
His fingers lingered, lightly tracing the curve of her lower lip. “It might be hard to believe, but I'm usually considered to be a charming bloke.”
“If you say so,” she forced herself to mutter, the insult losing its punch as she shuddered at the feel of his cool fingers skimming the length of her jaw.
“You possess an uncanny ability to . . .” He hesitated, as if he was searching for the words. “Get under my skin.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Get under my skin” sounded remarkably like “annoy the hell out of me.”
“What does that mean?”
His finger traced the vein that ran the length of her throat. “I want you.”
Heat blasted through her at his unexpected words, her body tingling with a bone-melting awareness.
She wanted to believe that it was a predictable reaction to a male so bluntly stating his hunger for her. After all, she'd never had a man treat her as if she were a desirable woman. Not when the male Chatri knew that any interest would be seen as a direct insult to the king.
What woman wouldn't feel all hot and bothered?
But a part of her knew that her reaction had nothing to do with her innocence and everything to do with a gorgeous hunk of a vampire who made her want to forget about duty and fiancés and bury herself in his arms.
“Cyn,” she murmured, not sure if she was pleading for him to stop or to throw her back on the blanket and ravish her.
Not that her body was conflicted. It wanted the ravishing.
“But it's more than that,” he continued, his lips twisting as he grabbed another slice of apple to feed to her. He waited until she'd eaten the fruit before he continued. “Even when you're not around, my thoughts turn to you. I need to know that you're taking care of yourself and that you're—”
A frisson of excitement fluttered through the pit of her stomach as his fingers tangled in her hair, his gaze brooding as he studied her upturned face. She could physically feel the hunger that hummed through his body.
Or maybe it was her own hunger.
Either way it was making her tremble with a delicious sense of anticipation.
“That I'm what?” she asked.
“Not unhappy.”
She met his piercing gaze, sensing the intense emotions that smoldered just beneath the surface.
Was he angry? Frustrated? Wishing he'd never followed his friend into her homeland?
“Why do you care?”
His lips parted, his fangs fully extended. “That, princess, is a question without an answer.”
Chapter Eight
Wearing a cloak that covered him from head to toe, Sir Anthony Benson felt a sharp stab of relief as a shimmering breach suddenly appeared in the middle of his attic.
It'd taken Yiant only a few hours to return with the potion that Anthony had demanded, but he'd hesitated to complete the spell. He needed to speak with Keeley before he headed into the lair of the Oracles. If the Chatri were in this world because they sensed his plot, then he needed to take extra precautions.
But as the hours passed with no sign of the imp, he'd at last started his preparations. Whether Keeley had given in to his cowardice and run or he'd been killed by the King of Vampires, Anthony couldn't wait any longer.
The spell of Compulsion he'd built layer by slow layer around the Commission would already be starting to fade. And just as dangerous, his connection to one Oracle in particular was reaching a critical point.
A fact that had been emphasized when it'd taken him three attempts to magically command the demon to leave the caves and form the breach that he needed to travel halfway around the world.
Not for the first time he regretted his inability to use Keeley or one of the local fairies to create a portal to take him to the woods that surrounded the Oracles' lair. Unfortunately, while he could mask his scent with a disguise amulet, there was no way to hide the power surge of fey magic that a portal demanded.
The Oracles would know he was coming before he could ever step foot near the caves.
On the other hand, a breach caused by one of their own would never be noticed.
Reaching into the pocket of his cloak, Anthony curled his fingers around the bottle of potion as he stepped into the breach. Immediately he was stung by a hundred pinpricks of electricity; it felt as if he were being attacked by a swarm of bees. This was why most people avoided traveling through a breach.
Locked on the demon who'd created the opening, he forced himself to move steadily forward, chanting a lethal spell as he at last stepped out the other side.
He was prepared to destroy any threat that might be lying in wait.
Shivering as the icy breeze tugged at his cloak, Anthony backed against the tree, struggling to see through the thick darkness that shrouded the woods. Unlike the supernatural creatures, he didn't have night sight that could penetrate the predawn shadows.
When nothing leaped out to kill him, Anthony altered his spell to produce a small ball of light that floated just above his head.
The illumination was enough for him to catch sight of the eerily beautiful woman who stood in a small clearing, her long copper hair floating around her oval face that was dominated by a pair of green eyes speckled with pure silver.
Phyla looked like she should have been strutting the catwalks of Paris, not hidden in a damp cave near the Mississippi River. But the beautiful demon attired in a long, nearly see-through white gown, was one of the most powerful Oracles. A bonus when she was creating a breach for him or encouraging the Commission to complete the spell he'd given to her, but a pain in the ass when she was trying to escape his control.
Sweat beaded Anthony's face despite the chill as he covertly pulled the bottle from his pocket and dabbed a small amount of the potion on his fingers. Then, moving forward, he took the female's hand and offered a deep bow.
“Bless you, mistress,” he murmured, releasing the spell of Compulsion as the potion transferred from his hand to hers. “As always I'm grateful for your assistance.”
The demon briefly tried to fight the spell, inwardly sensing she was about to break free. Then, as the potion spread through her body, the woman's tension eased. Slowly her features softened, a hint of confusion darkening her eyes.
“Do I know you?” she asked, her words coming out as a low hiss.
Anthony smiled with smug satisfaction. The potion enhanced his powers far beyond those of a normal druid, giving him complete control of the demons who thought they were superior to humans.
Arrogant bastards.
“I am nobody,” he said. “You will soon forget my presence.”
“This is wrong.” The woman pulled her hand free, stepping back with a fluid movement that reminded him of a serpent. “I should not be here.”
Anthony's smile remained. The spell had come close to snapping, but he could feel his connection to the demon strengthening with every passing second.
“You have merely come for a stroll.” The words were spoken as a command. “Now you need to return to your private rooms. You are tired.”
She gave a blink. “Yessssss. I am tired.”
“Go now.”
The demon turned, slowly making her way toward the caves. Anthony didn't bother to wait for her to disappear before he was headed up the bluff that overlooked the Mississippi River. Thanks to Keeley, he was familiar with a hidden entrance into the lair that would allow him to avoid the Commission and their numerous servants.
A vital requirement for him to spread the potion and reinforce his spell of Compulsion.
 
 
Fallon knew she was in trouble.
Wandering through the magical meadow with Cyn at her side, she tried to convince herself it was time to return to her rooms.
She'd finished the plate of fruit and even polished off the bottle of champagne. There was no reason to linger, was there? Not unless she was willing to admit that she simply wanted to spend time with the vampire.
Turning her head, her eyes clashed with the steady jade gaze, the twist of his lips assuring her that he was as baffled as she was by the strange compulsion that kept pulling them together.
“Tell me about your life,” he abruptly demanded, bringing them to a halt next to the shallow brook that flowed over shelves of rocks that created tiny waterfalls.
She shrugged. “There's not much to tell.”
“What do you do with your days?”
A flippant response trembled on her lips before she caught sight of the tight line of his jaw and felt the icy prickles of his power in the air.
Cyn was clearly battling the urge to unleash his primitive desires and toss her onto the grass to satisfy the need that continued to pulse between them. It was up to her whether they kept up the pretense of two civilized companions, or if she provoked him into . . .
She clenched her teeth, refusing to allow the image of being pressed into the soft ground as Cyn covered her with his larger body to form.
At the moment they were standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and they'd tumble over the edge.
Not yet prepared to take that irrevocable step, Fallon licked her lips and began chatting with a burst of nervous energy.
“We tend to be a social species, as well as highly competitive, so each House hosts lavish gatherings.”
His lips quirked. “I've been to a few fairy clubs. I will admit that they know how to throw one hell of a party.”
She blushed. Over the years she'd accidentally peeked into a few of the fairy clubs when she was scrying, and was shocked by the drunken orgies that seemed to pass as entertainment among many demons.
“Not those types of parties,” she muttered. “We host teas and soirées and nightly balls. They're intended to display the wealth and stature of our House, not to—”
“To actually have fun?” he finished for her, a wicked glint of amusement in his eyes.
She wrinkled her nose. “I hardly think that overindulging in spirits and having sex with multiple partners is my idea of fun.”
He reached to carefully brush a stray curl off her cheek. “Then what do you do for fun, princess?”
She hesitated. What
did
she do? The majority of her time was devoted to her role as princess, of course. When she wasn't expected to join her father, she was in her rooms peering into her scrying bowls. But for fun?
She was still struggling for an answer to the simple question when she was interrupted by the chime of a distant bell.
Cyn was on instant alert, his hand reaching for the dagger that was strapped beneath his sweater.
“What is that dinging?”
“I need to check the bowls,” she said, hurrying back across the meadow.
Cyn jogged at her side, leading her back to the door hidden by the illusion. “Is the bell a specific warning?”
“Yes.” She was forced to wait while he triggered the lock before they could return to the tunnel that ran beneath the castle. “One of the Oracles left the caves.”
“This way.”
He led her in the opposite direction from where they'd entered, rounding a corner to reveal a staircase that led them directly to the upper floors.
Fallon never slowed as she hurried up the steps and then down the corridor so she could enter the room where she'd arranged the bowls.
Walking in a slow circle, she pinpointed the bowl that had set off the alarm.
“Here.”
She lowered herself until she was kneeling on the carpet, peering into the water. The images flickered across the surface, revealing a slender woman with red hair walking back into the caves.
Odd.
Why would a demon leave the lair only to return minutes later?
“A Manasa demon. It must be Phyla,” Cyn murmured, leaning over the bowl.
Fallon stiffened, ridiculously wondering just how well he knew the beautiful demon. Then she gave a sharp shake of her head.
What was wrong with her? This was no time to be distracted by her childish stab of jealousy.
Focusing on her demon, Fallon touched the edge of the bowl, carefully angling the bowl to the side. The water tilted, distorting the images as they began to flow backward. As if she'd pressed a rewind button.
“Holy shite,” Cyn muttered. “How far can you go back?”
“Only a few minutes,” she said, removing her fingers from the bowl as she reached the limit of her powers.
Instantly the water settled back in the bowl and Fallon spoke a low word of command, freezing the image as she caught sight of a distinctive simmer that was barely visible among the thick trees shrouded in darkness.
“What is that?” Cyn demanded, his broad shoulder brushing hers as he leaned over the bowl.
Fallon kept her gaze locked on the bowl even as her senses were leaping with acute awareness of the man kneeling at her side.
It wasn't fair. He shouldn't be able to make her ache with this intense need without even trying.
“She created a breach,” she explained, wrenching her thoughts back to the vision that filled the bowl.
“Isn't that the same as a portal?”
“No.” Fallon shook her head. “A portal is creating a passageway through dimensions that is controlled by a fey's magic. This is a temporary rip in the space that will collapse within an hour.”
He sent her a wry glance. A silent reminder of his opinion of magic. Then he asked the obvious question.
“So why would she have created a breach and then returned to the caves?”
“If she didn't intend to travel then she must have let something through.”
He shifted his attention back to the bowl. “Can you search the area?”
“Yes.”
Releasing the magic from its stasis, the images flickered until she and Cyn were seeing the area in real time. Fallon gave a wave of her hand. Slowly she began a thorough sweep of the area. At first there was nothing to see but trees. And rocks. And an abandoned farmhouse.
It was Cyn who abruptly pointed at the cloaked form that was disappearing into a shallow cave that had been hidden by the undergrowth.
“There,” he muttered. “Can you follow him?”
“Aye, aye, sir,” she muttered, locking her magic on the cloaked form.
Without warning she felt his fingers lightly grasp her chin, tugging her face to meet his teasing gaze.
“Do you deliberately taunt me?”
Fallon sent him a chiding frown, only to ruin it when she shivered at the delicious feel of his fingers stroking along the line of her jaw.
“I don't like being given orders,” she informed him.
The teasing faded from his eyes, his gaze lowering to her lips. “Then why are you even considering returning to your father?”
Her heart missed a beat as she hastily lowered her gaze. She didn't want anyone to know just how the mere thought of returning home made her heart squeeze with panic.
It was just so . . . disloyal to her family.
“Because I understand my duty,” she forced herself to say.
His humorless laugh echoed through the room. “A martyr to appease your father's arrogance?”
The fact that he was right only pissed her off. “What does it matter to you?”
He leaned down, filling her vision with the savage beauty of his face. “You know why.”
She did. He wanted her.
And the goddess knew that she wanted him. Desperately.
But sating her lust with a man who made a habit of seducing women was hardly a legitimate reason to betray her family and perhaps ruin her life forever.
Was it?
With a muttered curse, Fallon jerked her gaze back to the bowl. No more distractions.
Thankfully Cyn seemed equally determined to concentrate on the reason they were kneeling on the hard floor, and careful not to touch, they watched in silence as the shadowed form squeezed through a narrow crevice at the back of the cave.
Her brows lifted in surprise as she realized he was entering a tunnel that led to the lair of the Commission.
“What the hell?” Cyn leaned forward. “Why would a cloaked human male be creeping through the tunnels that have been claimed by the Commission?”

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