So he’d done what was necessary.
Slamming a mental door on the image of his father staring up at him with a deep sadness as his own son had shoved the dagger into his heart, Anthony rose to his feet.
This was no time for maudlin reminiscing.
Holding the bowl filled with the druid’s blood, he peered into the flames, sending a silent message to the fairy sleeping upstairs.
Twenty minutes later a wary Yiant entered the stone circle, his long curls freshly brushed and his jade robe immaculate. Just as if he was about to enter a ballroom.
Anthony narrowed his eyes as he realized the little prick had kept him waiting so he could fuss over his appearance.
“It’s about time,” he growled, taking pleasure in the fairy’s abrupt horror as he caught sight of Caydeyrn lying dead on the floor.
“Blessed saints.” Yiant took an instinctive step backward. “What have you done?”
“We must all make sacrifices.” Anthony glanced at the motionless corpse. “Some of us more than others.”
Yiant was shaking, his eyes wild. “This is madness.”
“Get yourself together, fairy,” Anthony snapped. “I need to travel to the Oracles.”
“No.” Yiant took another step back, his horror turning to anger as he glared at Anthony’s calm expression. “This is wrong.”
Anthony moved forward. How dare the stupid fey believe he could judge the leader of the druids?
“It’s too late for regrets, fairy. We’re in this together.”
Yiant shook his head. “I didn’t know what you were doing.”
Anthony gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “You spineless bastard. You might not have been familiar with the finer details of my plan, but you knew that I wasn’t using the potions to sway a handful of humans into voting for more land for the fey,” he scoffed. “But you were reveling in your power as I helped you to expand your royal domain, so you didn’t bother to ask any questions that might have unpleasant answers.”
The fairy paled, but typically he was swift to try and defend his lust for glory.
“Everything I’ve done has been for my people.”
“I can say the same thing,” he mocked, his face abruptly hardening. He only had a limited amount of time to use the blood before it started to lose its potency. “Open the portal to the Oracles, Yiant.”
The fairy shook his head. “I can’t.”
“I did mention the need for sacrifices.” Anthony deliberately glanced toward the dead druid. “Do you wish to be the next?”
“I mean I can’t locate them with a portal.” Yiant licked his dry lips. “I’ve never been to their lair.”
“Damn.” Anthony ground his teeth. This was all Keeley’s fault. The imp was supposed to be here to take him to the caves. Instead he’d forced Anthony to kill him. Ungrateful wretch. Now he had little choice but to get as close as possible and find some other means of transportation. “Return me to the King of Vampires.”
Tonya knew she should be desperately searching for a way out of the labyrinth.
Just a few months ago she’d been held captive by a crazy-ass vampire spirit and nearly lost her mind. The mere thought of being trapped again was enough to make her shudder with horror.
But oddly, she was having trouble remembering that she was stuck in an elaborate spell.
Perhaps it was the cloudless blue sky and the rolling meadow filled with flowers. It was hard to feel threatened when in a setting more suitable for a Disney movie than a prison.
Or more likely it was the man standing at the edge of the blanket, his eyes closed as he concentrated on trying to break through the illusion.
Prince Magnus.
Tonya shook her head, a wry smile touching her lips.
The Chatri male continued to bewilder her. One minute he was an arrogant jackass whom she wanted to slap, and the next he was making her melt with his kisses.
She wanted to believe her fascination was nothing more than the predictable reaction of a woman who was forced to be in the constant company of a handsome, occasionally charming male.
After all, she’d wasted years thinking she was in love with her vampire employer, Santiago.
Unfortunately she wasn’t stupid.
Sure, she’d felt a mild affection for Santiago. He was a gorgeous, sexy, über-alpha predator. Just the sort of male to make a female’s pulse go pitter-patter.
But with Magnus . . .
Her nose wrinkled.
Hell, most of the time she didn’t know what she felt, but she did know that the thought of him returning to his home and leaving her behind was enough to make her heart twist with a savage pain.
Christ.
Slowly rising to her feet, Tonya was at the point of wandering toward the babbling brook when an electric charge filled the air.
She turned to watch as Magnus snapped open his eyes, his slender body stiff with surprise.
“What is that?” she demanded, her voice low enough to avoid being carried on the soft breeze.