“You’re still weak.”
“Weak?” The gargoyle went rigid, manly outrage tightening his ugly features. “I have the strength of a . . . of a . . . very large and very dangerous demon. And my magic is formidable .” He lifted his hands. “Shall I demonstrate?”
“No!” Siljar and Yannah cried in unison.
“Fine, then stop saying that I am weak,” Levet muttered.
Belatedly accepting that the tiny gargoyle possessed the same bullheaded temperament as every other male, Yannah allowed her lower lip to quiver. “Why don’t you just admit the truth?”
Levet narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing he was about to be outmaneuvered. “What truth?”
“You’re simply trying to get away from me.”
He hunched a shoulder. “Absurd.”
“It’s not absurd. You’re just—”
Siljar rolled her eyes as she stepped forward. “Children, please.”
“You’re bored with me,” Yannah continued, ignoring her mother.
“Bored?” Levet’s wings quivered. “Are you natty?”
“Nutty,” Yannah gritted. “It’s nutty.”
Levet waved a hand. “I chased you from Russia to London to the pits of hell.”
“And once I allowed you to catch me, the thrill was gone. Admit it.”
“I—”
A sharp burst of power flooded the room, threatening a pain that made them all freeze in wariness.
“Enough,” Siljar snapped. “Yannah, you will find Recise and resume your training.”
“But . . .” Yannah swallowed her words as she met her mother’s smoldering gaze, belatedly realizing that Siljar had reached the end of her patience. “I’m going.” She turned to glare at Levet. “We will continue this conversation later.”
“Mon dieu,” the gargoyle breathed.
Siljar waited for Yannah to stomp from the cavern before turning her attention to Levet.
“And you.”
“Moi?”
“You will accompany my guest on her mission.”
Levet glanced toward Nefri, his expression melting to offer her a smile of pure male appreciation. “But of course.”
“I must warn you that there is a potential for great danger,” Siljar said.
“Bah.” Levet tilted his chin to a proud angle. “Danger is my maiden name.”
“I believe you mean ‘middle,’” Siljar corrected him.
“It is all the same.” The gargoyle waddled over to stand directly in front of Nefri, bending at the waist in an old-school bow. “My lady.”
“Nefri,” she insisted, finding herself charmed by the tiny demon. Why did Styx and Santiago spend so much time complaining about the creature?
“It will be my greatest pleasure to assist you in your quest,” he assured her. “I did, after all, save the world from a certain apocalypse only weeks ago.” He abruptly scowled, glancing toward the Oracle. “Wait.”
Siljar lifted her brows. “Yes?”
“There isn’t going to be another apocalypse, is there?”
“No.”
“Dieu merci.”
“Well, at least not if we can prevent it,” Siljar corrected herself.
Levet tossed his hands in the air. “Why me?”
Chapter 3
Louisiana wetlands
Santiago wasn’t the only predator to prowl through the cypress trees that were painted silver in the moonlight. Alligators, rattlesnakes, and occasional cougars hunted through the swamp along with the far more dangerous water sprites, who could lure a man to his doom, and a rare Dalini serpent, a demon who could transform from serpent form to look human. Always born male, they had to mate with mortal females.
Santiago was, however, the most lethal.
Moving with a grace that was impressive considering the spongy ground and thick undergrowth, Santiago slowly circled the isolated swamp, coming to an abrupt halt as a sensation he hadn’t felt in centuries flared to life.
Dios.
It was his bond to Gaius.
Not all sires allowed a “child” to form a physical attachment. In the good old days, most vampires rarely stuck around to find out if their creation actually survived the process of transformation, let alone continued to feed their offspring to give them the best possible chance for survival.
Gaius had gone a step further by taking Santiago into his clan and into his lair.
A true son.
The blood connection had given Santiago the ability to sense his sire. Or, if he was far away, to sense his general direction.
Santiago had assumed the bond had been destroyed when he traveled beyond the Veil. After all, he hadn’t felt his sire for centuries, not even when he returned to this world. Now he could only wonder if the Dark Lord had somehow kept the older vampire from being discovered.
Holding perfectly still, Santiago allowed his powers to spread toward the distant house, built on brick stilts and painted white.