Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity)

Chapter Thirteen


Uncertain if the demon was truly gone, or if he might suddenly reappear, Sally ran a frantic hand over Roke’s face, her breath ripped from her lungs at the feel of his icy skin.

He was always cool to the touch. Every vampire was. But not . . . frigid.

There was something seriously wrong with him.

“Roke.” She leaned down to whisper directly in his ear, terrifyingly certain he was slipping away from her. “Roke, can you hear me?”

“He’s fading.”

The sound of the low, musical male voice had her jerking her head to the side to discover a slender imp with emerald eyes and long hair the shade of newly minted copper.

He was dressed in a camouflage robe that blended with the nearby trees, and she never would have noticed him if he hadn’t spoken. A knowledge that did nothing to reassure her.

Still on her knees, she held up a warning hand, mentally preparing a spell of revulsion. It wouldn’t hurt the imp, but it might convince him to go away.

“Stay back.”

The stranger placed a hand over his heart, offering the traditional gesture of peace among the fey.

“I only wish to help,” he said, his face impossibly beautiful in the moonlight.

She licked her dry lips. They’d been running from the fey for what seemed like forever, but he didn’t act aggressive. After all, there was nothing to stop him from attacking her if that’s what he intended.

Of course, he might be trying to lure her into a sense of security to get his hands on the box.

“Who are you?” she asked, remaining on guard.

He surprisingly offered a low bow. “A loyal subject.”

“Subject?” she muttered in confusion.

He straightened, meeting her puzzled gaze. “You are a Chatri, aren’t you?”

A Chatri?

As in fey royalty?

A cold chill inched down her spine at the unexpected question.

It was the box.

It had to be.

“No.” She gave a violent shake of her head. “I’m just a witch.”

He looked instantly contrite. “Forgive me. I understand if you want to keep your identity a secret.”

Okay, this was going from weird to weirder.

If she hadn’t been desperate to help Roke, she’d be fleeing in the opposite direction.

Instead, she forced herself to glance at the vampire who remained unconscious on the ground.

“I just want to help my . . .” Her lips twisted as she said the word she’d been avoiding for the past month. “Mate.”

The imp sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re mated to a vampire?”

“Yes,” she admitted in impatient tones. “Can you help him?”

“May I approach?”

The imp waited for her to give a reluctant nod before gingerly crossing the ground with a grace that would match a vampire. He lowered himself to his knees, his fingers reaching to touch Roke’s ashen cheek.

Sally watched in silence as the imp closed his eyes and appeared to be assessing Roke’s injuries.

“What is it?” She at last broke the silence.


The imp opened his eyes, his expression troubled. “I can’t determine the precise poison, but it must be something specifically designed to harm vampires.”

Sally frowned. How could Roke have been . . . oh. Her hands clenched as she remembered the dart that the demon had shot at Roke.

At the time it’d seemed like nothing more than an irritant. Now it was obvious the demon had used it to administer the poison with the intention of keeping Roke distracted until it could go into effect.

He hadn’t counted on Sally’s spell to ruin his plans.

Bastard.

“Can you help him?”

The imp shook his head. “No.”

“Then who can?”

“Maybe the vampires.” The green eyes held a concern that was at odds with his calm voice. “Does he have a clan nearby?”

She had to remind herself to breathe. “No. Why?”

“He’s a chief. They can draw power from their clan.”

Oh. She didn’t know that. Chewing on her bottom lip she tried to calculate how far they were from Nevada.

“How long does he have?”

The imp grimaced. “Not long. I’d say no more than an hour. Maybe two.”

“Damn.” She tasted blood as her teeth sank into her lip, tears filling her eyes. Even if she drove like a bat out of hell she couldn’t reach his people. “It’s too far.”

A copper brow arched at choked words. “I’m an imp.”

Sally blinked. “Yeah, I got that.”

“I can create a portal to take you anywhere you want to go,” he said slowly, as if realizing she was having difficulty processing anything beyond her savage fear that she was going to fail Roke.

She held the green gaze. “Can you take me to Nevada?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Although I can only travel to a place I’ve been to before.”

“Las Vegas?” she suggested, recalling Roke saying his clan was within easy distance of Sin City.

He gave a dip of his head. “Of course. Are you ready?”

Sally shut down her brain.

It was the only way to halt the shrill voice in the back of her mind that was screaming she couldn’t trust a strange imp who just happened to show up when she needed him the most. And that even if the fey could be trusted, she was a fool to willingly put herself in the hands of Roke’s clan.

She didn’t have a choice.

If she didn’t do something quick, Roke was going to die.

She knew it in the very depths of her soul.

“Yes.”

The male studied her pale face for a long, silent moment before lifting a hand to weave a pattern in midair. Slowly a shimmer began to appear, growing wider with every pass of his slender hand.

Sally felt an odd sensation bloom deep inside her. Was she reacting to the portal? Or was it the imp magic that was stirring a pulse of power that flowed through her blood?

She shook her head. What did it matter?

Once he was satisfied his portal was stable, the imp held his hand toward Sally, nodding toward Roke.

“Hold on to the vampire.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she placed her hand in the imp’s and then slid her arm under Roke’s neck, leaning down to press her lips to his icy forehead as the imp pulled the portal toward them.

Not sure what to expect, Sally stiffened as the prickles of energy raced over her body, an explosion of colors swirling around her as if she could actually see the magic of the portal.

The imp made a sound of wonderment, his eyes wide as he studied the whirling kaleidoscope.

“Astonishing,” he murmured. “It’s never been like this.”

Sally didn’t know if he was referring to the colors or the sensations of being sucked through space at supersonic speed, and she didn’t have time to ask as they came to a sharp halt. Holding tight to Roke, she watched as the colorful display slowly dissipated, revealing a vast desert shrouded in darkness.

“This is it,” the imp murmured.

Sally nodded, her gaze skimming the distant mountains before turning her attention toward the glowing lights of Vegas that lit the night sky even miles away.

“How far are we from the vampires?”

“Not far enough for my comfort.” The imp shuddered, pointing south. “They’re rapidly approaching.”

She pressed another kiss to Roke’s forehead. “Thank the goddess.”

Careful not to startle her, the imp crouched beside her, his expression troubled.

“You’re certain?”

Nope. Not in the least.

“Roke needs them.” Was her only answer.

“You can leave him here and return through the portal with me,” the imp said. “A Chatri should not be in the hands of vampires.”

“I’m not a . . .” She gave a futile shake of her head. What did it matter? “I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” He shot an anxious glance toward the thickening shadows. “They’re almost here.”

“Go,” Sally urged.

The imp hesitated, clearly torn between a desire to stay and offer her protection and a fear of the approaching demons.

It was the burst of frigid power that filled the air that had him performing a hasty bow and stepping back into the portal.

“Take care.”

Sally ignored her stab of fear as the imp disappeared. It was too late for regrets.

She was here to keep Roke from dying.

Nothing else mattered.

Bent low over her mate, Sally watched as the two approaching silhouettes solidified into a large male and much smaller female.

Another surge of fear clenched her heart. The male was bigger and bulkier than Roke with long, dark hair pulled into a braid. His features were broad and his eyes a light brown. The woman, on the other hand, looked like a puff of wind might blow her away.

Short and slim, she was wearing spandex bike pants and a sports bra that emphasized her tiny dimensions. She had golden curls pulled from a heart-shaped face and big, blue eyes. She might have looked like a china doll if not for the frigid hate that was etched on her delicate face.

Oh, and the big-ass fangs that glistened in the moonlight.

Of the two, Sally was much more terrified of the female.

“It’s him,” the woman said, her feral gaze trained on Sally. “What have you done to our chief, witch?”

“Nothing.” Sally swallowed the lump in her throat. “I mean—”

“Check the area,” the female interrupted, speaking to her companion. “I smell fey.”

The male instantly obeyed the command, proving Sally’s instincts had been right. The female was the more dangerous.

Which meant, Sally had to convince her that they didn’t have time to screw around with the usual preliminaries.

“You must listen to me,” she said in urgent tones. “Roke has been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” The vampire frowned. “With what?”

“I don’t know. We were attacked by a demon and he shot him with a dart.” Sally bit off her words, realizing she was babbling. “That’s why I brought him here.”

The icy blue eyes narrowed. “He dies, you die. Got it?”

Sally clenched her teeth. This was going about as well as she’d expected.

“Just help him.”

There was a chilled breeze as the male vampire returned. “There’s no one else in the vicinity.”

The female nodded her head toward Roke. “Take Roke to his lair and call for the healer. Tell her that he might be poisoned.” The blue eyes narrowed as they remained locked on Sally. “Or it might be a spell.”

The male moved obediently forward, scooping Roke off the ground with a gentle care that eased a small part of Sally’s thundering terror.


Whatever their fury with her, it clearly wasn’t directed at their chief.

“What about the witch?” the male asked as Sally scrambled to her feet, trying to put some distance between them.

The female strolled forward, her lips twisted with disgust. “Unfortunately, we have to keep her alive until we know if she’s put a spell on Roke. If she did, she’s the only one who can break it.”

“A pity,” the male muttered.

The female shrugged. “Until then, I get to do something I’ve waited weeks to do.”

Sally parted her lips to assure them that all she wanted to do was help Roke when the female lifted her hand and with a casual motion slapped Sally with enough force to make the world go black.





Styx watched Siljar as she leaned over the dead fairy, her black, almond-shaped eyes unblinking and her hands folded at her waist.

She’d been in that precise pose for the past ten minutes while Styx impatiently paced the stone floor and Viper kept watch at the mouth of the tunnel.

He still wasn’t sure if he’d made the right decision to bring Siljar into the investigation. Sure, she’d been the one to start the ball rolling. But he couldn’t deny there were questions of whether she might actually be involved.

It’d only been after he and Viper had discussed every angle of the investigation that he realized they’d come to a dead end.

What choice did he have but to ask the powerful Oracle for help?

At last the tiny demon straightened, her braid nearly brushing the floor.

“His magic has been drained,” she pronounced.

“And that killed him?”

“Yes.”

Styx frowned. That seemed . . . hideous.

“How?”

“There are demons who feed off magic, but it’s a rare talent,” Siljar explained.

“Good. That narrows down the field of suspects.”

Siljar arched a brow. “Law & Order or NCIS?”

Styx shrugged, refusing to be embarrassed. “Law & Order. Darcy is an addict.”

“How very odd.”

Maybe it was a little odd for a centuries-old vampire to snuggle on the couch with his mate and watch Law & Order, but he didn’t give a shit.

If it made Darcy smile he was fully on board.

“Are there any Oracles who suck magic from their victims?” he asked.

Siljar stilled, her black gaze studying him with unnerving intensity. “You instantly assumed it was an Oracle. Why?”

Styx grimaced. Sometimes he forgot just how perceptive the tiny demon truly was.

A serious mistake.

“I have my Ravens spread through the area.”

She appeared unconcerned by his reluctant confession. “I expected as much.”

“Only three people entered the caves before we found the corpse. Viper, myself, and the fairy.” He glanced toward the fairy who was rapidly disintegrating. Another hour and he would be nothing more than pixie dust. Literally. “Whoever killed him was already here. Unless they have your ability to travel.”

“Not without alerting me,” Siljar said without hesitation. “No one beyond me and my daughter, Yannah, traveled out of these caves for the past week.”

Styx nodded. It’s what he expected, considering the effort the demon had expended to try to do his disappearing act in the middle of the woods.

“But there are Oracles who share your talent?” he pressed.

Siljar tilted her head to the side. “Why do I suspect that is more than a casual question?”

“One of my Ravens spotted a cloaked figure leaving the caves and disappearing a few miles away.”

“The figure disappeared, it didn’t just disguise its presence?”

Styx folded his arms over his chest, offended by the question. “No disguise could fool my Raven.”

Indifferent to Styx’s icy tone, Siljar tapped a finger against her chin.

“Are your Ravens still out there?”

“Of course.”

“Has the creature returned?”

Styx had checked with Jagr only minutes before. “No.”

“I believe I will call the Commission into session.” Siljar headed toward the opening of the cavern, her pace surprisingly swift for such a tiny demon. “It should prove interesting to see who is here.”

“Or not here,” Styx added.

“Precisely.”