Taken by Darkness

Like most other gargoyles, Levet possessed grotesque features and a thick gray hide that turned to stone during the day. He also had a long tail he kept faithfully polished and a thick French accent.

Unlike most of his terrifying brethren, however, Levet was barely knee high, with delicate fairy wings that shimmered with brilliant blues and crimsons and were veined with gold. Even worse, his magic was unpredictable at best and inclined to cause more trouble than it was worth.

As a result the poor thing had been banished from his Guild and treated as little more than a leper among the demon world.

Juliet better than most understood the pain of never truly belonging.

Which no doubt explained why Levet had so swiftly earned a place in her wary heart. She would do whatever necessary to protect him.

“Levet did not hire out his services. If you must know, he was refused entry into the Guild because he is…”

A raven brow arched as she hesitated. “Yes?”

“He is unusually tiny and considered deformed by his brethren,” she snapped. “Are you satisfied?”

“A deformed gargoyle?”

“Do not mock him.”

The silver eyes shimmered with a wicked amusement. “I am not so clumsy as to insult your friend. My enjoyment is at the thought of Hawthorne’s reaction to a miniature gargoyle cowering in his attics.”

“My household is none of your concern, DeRosa.” A deep male voice echoed through the darkness as Lord Hawthorne climbed the steps from the garden. “Neither is my apprentice.”

Juliet rolled her eyes as Victor’s arm tightened around her waist and an icy smile curved his lips.

The two men had been adversaries since Justin, Lord Hawthorne, and Juliet had arrived in London. Thus far the hostilities had not broken into open bloodshed, but Juliet sensed that it was only a matter of time.

Until then they took ridiculous delight in goading each other.

“Do you think to frighten me, mage?” Victor mocked.

Justin slowly crossed the terrace, his hand smoothing down the charcoal-gray jacket that he had matched with a black waistcoat and white knee breeches.

He was a large gentleman with a thick mane of hair that had turned silver centuries before. His face was square with strong features and black eyes that hinted at his ruthless will. Most women considered him handsome, although he would never claim the breathtaking splendor of Victor.

Halting near the stone railing, Justin folded his arms over his chest, his expression smug. Which could mean only one thing.

Gingerly Juliet opened her senses, not surprised by the unmistakable wall of magic that surrounded the mage. Justin might be an arrogant ass, as Victor claimed, but he was not stupid. He would never approach any vampire, let alone the powerful clan chief, without a spell of protection.

Not that it would keep a determined vampire from ripping out his throat.

“There will be no doubt if and when I desire to frighten you, devil spawn,” Justin taunted.

A wave of icy power raced through the air, prickling painfully over Juliet’s skin.

“Do not allow your ability to intimidate a few lesser demons to swell your head, Hawthorne,” Victor drawled. “It would be a lethal mistake.”

Taking advantage of Victor’s brief distraction, Juliet slipped from his grasp and moved to the center of the terrace.

“Since my presence is obviously superfluous, I will leave you two to entertain each other,” she muttered.

Justin stepped smoothly toward her, stretching out his hand. “Forgive me, Juliet—”

The words had barely left his mouth when he was abruptly slammed against the brick wall of the mansion, Victor’s hand wrapped around his throat and a pair of vicious fangs a mere breath away from his jugular.

Shocked by the swift violence, not to mention Victor’s ease in breaching Justin’s considerable defensive spell, Juliet hurried to the vampire’s side, laying a cautious hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, no,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. The air was thick with danger. It did not seem particularly wise to startle the lethal vampire. “I will not tolerate you creating a scene.”

There was a tense moment when Justin’s life hung in the balance; then, with a low snarl, Victor tossed the larger man aside and turned to grab Juliet, his silver eyes flashing with a stark hunger.

“Take heed, little one. I have attempted to cultivate patience—you are very young, after all—but my desire for you is swiftly consuming me,” he rasped. “I will not wait much longer.”

Her heart slammed against her chest, but not in fear, despite the slender fingers digging into her shoulders and the savage glitter in the silver eyes. No. It was pure exhilaration racing through her blood.

“Are you threatening me?” she breathed.

He framed her face in his hands, staring deep into her eyes before lowering his head to cover her mouth with a harsh, shockingly possessive kiss.

“A promise, nothing more,” he whispered against her lips; then, with a muttered curse, he abruptly released her and disappeared from the terrace with a terrifying speed.