“Phyla.” Cyn planted himself directly in front of the demon, his voice low with command. “Stop.”
Her steps stumbled, then came to a halt. Her face twisted with obvious pain, her body trembling as she was attacked by two contradicting compulsions.
“We must go,” she rasped.
He reached out to touch her face, increasing his pressure on her tortured mind.
“The druid has cast a spell on you,” he said. “You must fight it.”
Her trembling increased. “I—”
“Concentrate on me,” he urged, his hand stroking her cheek. “Release the Chatri.”
Her breath came in short, painful gasps. “It’s impossible. The death spell I placed on her will trip if I release her.”
Cyn swallowed his curse. He was going to need help.
“What happened to the vampires?”
“They’re being held in the prisons beneath the caves.”
Cyn frowned. Styx had told him about the large holding pens that the previous Anasso had used to confine his drug-addicted humans. He assumed that must be what she was referring to.
“What about the druid?”
She paused, no doubt using the connection the druid forced on her to track him.
“He’s in the altar chamber.”
“What about the Oracles?”
“They’re gathering in the Council Room. I must join them.”
“Can you lead me to the druid?”
“Yes. But—”
She made a gagged sound, as if something or someone was cutting off her words.
“What is it?”
The muscles of her neck bulged as she struggled to spit out the words.
“The amulet.”
He frowned. “What amulet?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she gave a violent shudder, pain flaring in her eyes before they abruptly went dull and lifeless.
“We must go,” she said, her monotone voice revealing she was once again under full command of the druid.
Cyn continued to stand in her path, desperate to break the spell.
“Phyla.”
Fire flickered over the demon’s skin. “Move or I’ll kill her.”
“Damn.”
Cyn leaped to the side, his gaze locked on Fallon to make sure the flames didn’t touch her vulnerable skin. Locked in the demon’s spell, he didn’t know if she could survive being burned or not.
Dampening the fire, Phyla started forward again, leading Cyn into the mouth of a cavern hidden behind the farmhouse.
Cyn grimaced as they moved across the smooth floor and into the tunnel that led sharply downward.
He didn’t need to be able to sense magic to realize that there was something big happening. He could feel it in the heavy press of air that seemed to cling to his skin and the tiny quakes beneath his feet. There was even a smell of electricity in the air. As if lightning was about to strike.
Not the most comfortable sensation for a vampire.
They followed the main tunnel until they entered a large cavern with a number of openings that branched in every direction.
Cyn frowned as Phyla headed to the very back of the cavern. Where the hell was she going? There was nothing but a large pile of rubble that towered nearly to the ceiling.
As if blind to the mess, Phyla continued forward, her pace never slowing.
Then, as she stepped directly into the stones, he muttered an exasperated curse.
An illusion.
Of course.
Holding his sword in a white-knuckled grip, Cyn forced himself to ignore what his eyes were telling him. Not easy, since he had a moral objection to walking face-first into a stone wall.
Tingles rushed over his skin and the scenery blurred before they’d stepped through the magical barrier to reveal they were standing in a cramped tunnel.
Phyla continued forward, nearly scraping the unconscious Fallon against the jagged edge of the wall as the channel narrowed and curved. Cyn snapped his fangs, trembling with the effort not to snatch his princess from the bitch’s hand.
Soon, he silently promised himself.
Soon he would have his fangs buried deep in the druid’s throat and he would take exquisite pleasure in draining the life from the bastard.
Until then he would have to be patient.
A task easier said than done for a hedonistic berserker vampire.
Grimly reminding himself of the price of failure, he allowed Phyla to lead him to the deepest part of the cavern, the top of his head brushing the low ceiling before they at last came to a heavy steel door that blocked the tunnel.
Phyla used her free hand to shove open the door, revealing a small, barren space that had been roughly carved out of the rock.
Cyn hissed at the sight of the two vampires that were lying motionless in the center of the floor.
Styx and Viper.
But no Dante.
Thank God.
“Enter the cell,” Phyla commanded, allowing her hand to become engulfed in flame as Cyn hesitated. “Do it now or I burn the female.”
“Shit.” Cyn grudgingly bent down to step through the low opening, whirling to face Phyla with his fangs bared. “Where are you taking Fallon?”
“She will ensure your good behavior,” the demon informed him, slamming shut the door.
Shrouded in utter blackness, Cyn tilted back his head and roared in fury.