Santiago hissed at the sudden promise of violence that brushed over him. “Is that a threat?”
“I would prefer not to use threats.” Gaius reached down to pick up the forgotten dagger, his nonchalance not fooling Santiago for a minute. “All I need you to do is get the witch away from the Anasso’s lair. A simple enough task.”
Right. Sneaking into a lair with a higher grade security system than the Pentagon, not to mention a dozen of the most powerful demons on earth, to snatch a witch who was presumably hiding from the spirit. Yep. Simple as pie.
“Why don’t you use your . . .” He shuddered, forced to recall the creepy sight of walking into the cellar to see himself bent over poor Tonya. “Talent to shape-shift and just become me?”
Gaius smoothly turned to throw the dagger at the doorjamb, proving that for all his fragile appearance he maintained his impressive strength as the blade sunk hilt deep into the wood.
“Styx is already aware of my talent,” he snarled. “He would realize the minute I appeared without your scent that it was me.”
Santiago lowered his gaze to the gold amulet that hung around Gaius’s neck. He could feel the noose tightening with every passing second.
He might not know why Gaius was so anxious to get his hands on this mysterious book, or why it had to be Sally the Witch to do the destroying, but he sure as hell knew it couldn’t be for anything good.
Which meant he had to find a way to stop him.
“Then why not use your medallion?” he hedged. “That’s how you captured Tonya, isn’t it?”
The tightening of Gaius’s lips proved the vampire had already tried to penetrate Styx’s house. “The lair is protected by a spell that prevents portals from being created inside the house,” he grudgingly admitted. “I need you.”
With a regretful glance toward Tonya, Santiago squared his shoulders and spread his feet in preparation for battle.
“No.”
Gaius frowned at the blunt refusal. “My son, don’t be a fool.”
“There’s nothing foolish in loyalty. I will never betray my clan.”
Gaius flinched, then the shame on his gaunt face was replaced by a cunning that sent a chill down Santiago’s spine.
The creature was once again in control.
“So easy to say when there’s no cost to that loyalty,” he purred, lifting his hand as if pointing to something above them.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see how deep your loyalty runs.”
Santiago shifted backward, sensing a sudden flow of fury, although it seemed oddly muted. As if it was being funneled away from him.
Half expecting the ceiling to fall on his head, Santiago instead heard the front door to the lair being wrenched off its hinges followed by the unmistakable blast of Nefri’s power.
“What the hell?”
“Santiago!” Levet called out in warning, then there was a thud, as if he’d been tossed into the wall.
He had half a second to turn toward the door before Nefri was in the room, her hair floating around her exquisitely beautiful face and her eyes glowing with a mindless rage.
Her features had been sharpened, the alabaster skin so perfect it shimmered like the finest silk. And her slender body sculpted with the grace of an Amazon.
She was as nature intended.
An exotic symbol of pure female power.
Santiago stood in speechless wonderment. A mistake, as Nefri’s fierce gaze shifted toward the female imp chained to the wall.
Tonya cried out in fear as Nefri flowed forward, her fangs fully extended and her hands curled into claws.
“Nefri.” He was moving before he could consider the consequences, placing himself between Tonya and the feral vampire. “No.”
Nefri slammed into him with enough force to send him flying into the wall, his teeth rattling from the impact. He grimly ignored his cracked ribs and ice that was beginning to form on his skin as Nefri’s fury blazed over him with frigid force.
He couldn’t stop her. He’d always known in a head to head battle her strength was greater.
But he could try to distract her from Tonya.
After that . . .
Hell, what did it matter? Chances were good he would be dead. He didn’t really need a long-term plan.
With that cheerful thought at the forefront of his mind, he launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Nefri as he struggled to contain her without causing her any injury. He felt her quiver, the sweet scent of jasmine filling his senses as if she were battling against the violence that thrummed through her veins.
But even as a tiny hope began to form, Nefri was wrapping her fingers around his throat and he was lifted off his feet. He grunted, refusing to reach for his weapons. He wouldn’t harm her. No matter what the cost.
Instead, he gazed deep into her eyes, allowing her to see the love that was branded onto his very soul.
A love that he’d never spoken, but had offered in every touch of his hand, in every lingering kiss.