He scowled. “Wait for what?”

  There was another pause, as if she waged some sort of inner battle.

  “I can try to create a portal that will open in the cavern,” she at last offered, the words a mere whisper that floated on the breeze. “It might allow us to bypass the magical security system.”

  A flicker of hope eased the black dread that was lodged in the pit of his stomach. “Now?”

  She gave a grudging nod. “Yes, but I can’t guarantee that I can hold it open long enough to allow your people to escape.”

  He waved aside her warning. There was no way in hell she was going to be around when it came time for him to bust out of the labyrinth.

  “Just get me to them. I’ll worry about escaping once I have them unchained.”

  “This is crazy.” An indefinable emotion rippled over her lovely face, but squaring her shoulders, she reached out to grab his hand. “Hold on.”

  Finn felt the surroundings melt away as she tugged him forward. There was a familiar sensation of traveling through a portal along with a disorienting sense of floating in nothingness. It was almost as if they were standing still and the world was moving around them.

  He didn’t know if it was because Adair was a Sylvermyst, or as a result of the strange magic in the labyrinth. All he did know was that it was making his stomach lurch. And not in a good way.

  Battling the urge to puke, Finn wasn’t ready for the weird motion to come to an abrupt halt. Stumbling forward, he would have fallen on his face if Adair hadn’t grabbed his arm and held him upright until he regained his balance.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, pulling free of her grasp.

  He was a prince. It was downright embarrassing to lurch around like a drunken dew fairy.

  Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Adair turned her attention toward the small, icy cave that surrounded them.

  “We’re at the backside of the cavern,” she murmured. “The gems have all been taken from this area, so there shouldn’t be anyone around.”

  Once again in control as the ground stopped shifting and his stomach settled, Finn moved across the slippery floor. Reaching the ice wall, he peered through a narrow crack.

  He easily determined that they were indeed at the bottom of the cavern, but the bulk of his view was blocked by the mass of ice that bulged from the center of the floor.

  He didn’t need to see, however, to know that his people were close.

  The crisp scent of frost sprites filled the air.

  Barely leashing his impulse to rush toward them, he turned his head to watch as Adair moved to join him at the opening.

  “Are there guards down here?” he murmured, his voice pitched low enough it wouldn’t carry into the cavern.

  “At the top,” she said, her voice equally soft. “They only come down here when my brothers have the sprites released so they can work.”

  He grimaced. One day very, very soon he intended to have a chat with the male Sylvermysts. It was a chat that would no doubt lead to death and dismemberment. And not necessarily in that order. In this moment, however, he was hoping to avoid them.

  “Where is your charming family?”

  A shamed blush touched her cheek at his sneering tone.

  “I don’t sense them nearby. They’ve probably returned to our lair in Alaska to hide the latest gems. That’s what they usually do when they’re forced to allow the sprites to rest, but they won’t be gone long.” She took a step forward, clearly intending to head through the fissure. “We have to hurry.”

  “We?” With lightning speed, Finn was grabbing her upper arm. “Hold on,” he growled, tugging her backward.

  She sent him a startled frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She looked confused. “To help you release your people, of course.”

  He shook his head. “There is no ‘of course’ about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He absently loosened his grip on her arm, allowing his fingers to trail up to her shoulder. Her hair brushed the back of his hand. Yep. It was just as soft as he’d imagined.

  “Why are you helping me?” he abruptly demanded.

  She flinched, as if his words hurt her.

  “It’s not a trap, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she muttered.

  Was that what he was thinking? In truth, he didn’t know.

  “Just answer the question,” he commanded.

  Her lips flattened, as if annoyed by his tone. “I love my family, I truly do. But…”

  “But?”

  “I’m not like them.”

  Finn gave a short laugh. “No shit.”

  She arched a brow. “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. He wasn’t about to admit that he refused to believe he could be attracted to a female who was truly evil.

  That was just lame.

  “Why are you different?” he instead demanded.

  She lowered her head. Did she know that her face revealed her every emotion?

  “I don’t care about power or wealth or being a ruler of a tribe of Sylvermyst,” she muttered.

  She trembled, and Finn slid his hand down her back before he could halt the soothing gesture. Hell, he didn’t want to halt it.

  He wanted to feel the heat of her body that seeped through the loose robe. And savor the scent of rosemary that suddenly spiced the air.

  “There’s more than that,” he said in a husky voice.

  She gave a slow nod, unconsciously swaying toward him.

  “It’s wrong to turn the sprites into slaves,” she said, slowly lifting her head to meet his searching gaze. “Just as it was wrong for us to be enslaved. I can’t stand aside and let that happen.”

  His hand splayed across her lower back, urging her even closer. “If you felt that way then why did you help them?”

  “They’re my family. Without them I have nothing.”

  “You have your honor.”

  Anger at his soft reprimand darkened her platinum eyes. “And how long would I survive alone in a world surrounded by my enemies with just my honor?”

  She was right, of course. A lone Sylvermyst needed the protection of a tribe to survive. Finn, however, didn’t want her to think she had to remain at the mercy of her family.

  “Perhaps you aren’t as alone as you fear,” he murmured.

  Their gazes locked, a strange sizzle of anticipation zapping through Finn.

  Something had just happened. Something big.

  But before he could actually define what it was, she was taking a step backward, her heart pounding so loudly he could hear the frantic beat.

  “We should go,” she rasped.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her captive. “Not you.”

  She blinked in surprise at his fierce tone before her lips were flattening in frustration. “You don’t trust me.”

  He ignored her accusation.

  “What will happen if your family discovers you’ve helped me?” he demanded.

  “I…”

  His lips twisted as her words trailed away. She didn’t have to tell him. He was well aware that her brothers would treat her as a traitor.

  She would be punished. Perhaps even killed.

  A stark, mystifying stab of pain sliced through his heart.

  “Exactly,” he snapped in harsh tones. “Return to your rooms, Adair.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she glared at him. “You’ll never get out of here without my powers.”

  “I have my own magic.”

  “I know, but creating a portal in this place is extremely difficult.”

  He stuck out his jaw. “Dammit, female. I won’t be responsible for putting you in danger,” he snapped.

  She blinked. Then blinked again.

  “You’re worried about me?”

  Unable to resist temptation, he lowered his head and kissed her with all the frustration that bubbled deep inside him.

&nbs
p; He sensed her shock before she released a small sigh, her lips parting in silent invitation. Finn dipped his tongue into the warm welcome of her mouth. He groaned. She tasted of sweet herbs and earthy desire.

  A combination that made his head swim.

  The air misted around them, tiny snowflakes floating on the air as his chilled powers meshed with her dark, evocative magic.

  Glorious…

  The word drifted through his stunned mind even as he was sharply pulling away. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Infuriated by his inability to think clearly when Adair was near, he moved with a blinding speed into the cavern. Then, turning, he gave a wave of his hands, unleashing his magic to fill the fissure with a thick layer of ice.

  With her path blocked, the female had to accept that this wasn’t her battle. Right?

  She could return to the safety of her private rooms. And he could concentrate on the only thing that mattered.

  Rescuing his people.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rya watched Torque march out of the room, his spine ramrod straight and trails of smoke following in his wake.

  He was in a huff.

  No doubt about it.

  Oddly, Rya found herself pleased by the male’s foul mood.

  Not because Levet managed to annoy him. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. She might take an itsy bitsy amount of pleasure in the gargoyle’s unique ability to piss off Torque. But it was mainly relief that the stoic male could feel anything.

  After the formal betrothal, Rya had been worried that her future mate was incapable of normal emotions. He’d been so detached during the ceremony while she’d been a quivering mass of nerves.

  Now she at least knew he could feel anger.

  And desire.

  White-hot, all-consuming desire.

  A tiny shiver racked her body.

  As if sensing her inner turmoil, Levet waddled to stand at her side, reaching up to lightly pat her hand.

  “I am so sorry, ma belle,” he murmured.

  She glanced down at him in confusion. “For what?”

  “That you’re being forced to mate with such a surly brute.”

  Another shiver raced through her. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t nearly so sorry about the upcoming mating as she’d been just a day ago.

  In fact…

  “He’s not a brute,” she breathed.

  “Non?”

  Her lips twitched at the patent disbelief in Levet’s tone.

  “No. Although I thought he was.”

  “And now?”

  She took time to consider what she’d discovered of Torque over the past hours.

  “Now I realize that he’s serious, but he isn’t stern,” she slowly admitted. “And he’s dedicated. And loyal. And—”

  “Handsome?” Levet overrode her words.

  Heat raced through her. Handsome was such a mundane word. Certainly it didn’t capture Torque’s potent male beauty.

  “He is…gorgeous,” she at last muttered.

  The gargoyle heaved a deep sigh. “I thought vampires were trouble.”

  Vampires? What did bloodsuckers have to do with Torque? “Excuse me?”

  “In my experience, females always choose the tall, dark and annoying creatures.” The delicate wings fluttered as Levet gave a resigned shake of his head. “It makes no sense to me.”

  “You don’t have a mate?”

  The gargoyle paused, before delicately clearing his throat.

  “Non. I have no mate. In my house, I do have a young fairy that I recently rescued, but I am merely her protector,” he revealed, placing his hand against his chest as a soulful expression settled on his lumpy face. “It is my nature to spread my love,” he explained. “Not to have my wings clipped.”

  “I see.”

  “It is my destiny to be a toy boy.”

  Rya struggled to hide her amusement. “You mean, be a boy toy?”

  “Oui.” With an airy wave of his hand, Levet turned his attention to their surroundings. “If you are forced to mate with the dragon-shifter I do hope you intend to improve his taste in lairs,” he murmured. “My heart aches at the thought of you living in such a dismal place.”

  Rya aimlessly wandered toward the shelves that consumed the far wall, her hand lightly touching one of the precious leather-bound books.

  “Torque has suggested we build a lair together,” she said.

  “Is that what you desire?”

  A thrill of anticipation inched down her spine. “I’m not sure. Just a few days ago I would have said no. Now…things have changed.”

  Levet clicked his tongue. “Ah well, do not blame yourself,” he assured her. “Being in danger does tend to stir the emotions.”

  Was that it? Was danger responsible for her sense of bonding with Torque?

  It would be an easy explanation. Unfortunately, it didn’t ring true.

  “Perhaps,” she said with a shrug, eager to change the conversation. “Not that it matters until we manage to get out of here.”

  Levet started toward her. “We will escape. You can trust in me.” He came to an abrupt halt, the gray eyes widening as if he’d been struck by inspiration. “In fact…”

  Rya frowned as the gargoyle tilted back his head and spread his wings.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “My magic cannot work, but I might be able to use my ability to speak mind to mind,” he told her.

  Rya hesitated, wondering if the small demon was teasing her. She didn’t know much about gargoyles or their powers. But as his pretty wings shimmered with a flare of magic, she allowed herself to experience a surge of hope.

  “You can truly use telepathy?” she asked.

  “Oui. I am a demon with many gifts.”

  Rya crossed the floor to stand at his side. “Can you contact my father?”

  He wrinkled his short snout. “It would be simpler to try and reach out to Tayla. We already have a mental connection.”

  Rya nodded. That made sense. “What can I do?”

  He gave a dramatic wave of his hands. “You may watch me in amazement.”

  Her lips twitched. “Okay.”

  Levet closed his eyes, presumably reaching out to Baine’s mate. Rya stood beside him, waiting for…

  Well, she didn’t really know what she was waiting for. But as the minutes ticked past, she grew increasingly restless.

  Levet, on the other hand, stood so still she started to wonder if he’d shifted into his statue-form.

  Then, with a gusty sigh, he abruptly opened his eyes.

  “Sacre bleu.”

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He gave a click of his tongue. “The magic is too thick for me to penetrate.”

  Rya grimaced, her hope fading. “Damn.”

  Levet’s wings drooped. “I even tried to reach Finn, since he is within the maze with us.”

  A cold dread twisted her stomach. Over the past few days she’d become fond of the prince of frost sprites. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt.

  Or worse.

  “You couldn’t find him?”

  “He is blocking me,” the gargoyle muttered. “The imbecile.”

  “Can you tell if he’s okay?”

  “He’s alive,” Levet muttered, his tail twitching around his feet. “That is all I can say.”

  Rya nodded. At least she knew he hadn’t been killed by their unseen enemy.

  On the point of suggesting they spend a few hours resting to regain their strength, Rya abruptly stiffened.

  What was wrong with her brain? She had the perfect solution to their troubles.

  “What about my mother?” she eagerly demanded. “Could you reach out to her?”

  Clearly caught off guard by her request, Levet held up a clawed hand.

  “I can make no promises, ma belle. I have never met your mother, which makes it much more difficult to touch her mind.”

  She held his gaz
e, her hands pressed together. She was desperate to reach her mother.

  “Will you try?” she pleaded.

  There was a short pause before the gargoyle was performing a deep bow.

  “For you, ma belle? Anything.”

  She chuckled at his flamboyant antics. He truly was a charming companion. She couldn’t understand why Torque found him so annoying.

  Stepping back, she watched as he once again closed his eyes and lifted his hands. His wings shimmered with a pulse of magic, and then…nothing.

  Prepared this time for his absolute stillness, Rya forced herself to remain patient. Just a few minutes later, however, Levet gave a strangled cry and tumbled face-first onto the stone floor.

  Instantly dropping to her knees, she reached out to roll him onto his back, careful not to bend his fragile wings.

  “Levet?” She touched his cheek, uncertain whether his chilled skin was natural or if something was truly wrong with him. “Levet, can you hear me?”

  There was the sound of hurried footsteps as Torque rushed back into the room.

  “Rya,” he rasped, swiftly bending down next to her. “Are you hurt?”

  A strange warmth filled her heart at the genuine concern that smoldered in the sapphire eyes.

  He was really and truly worried about her.

  “No, I’m fine,” she assured him, nodding toward the unconscious demon on the floor. “But something’s happened to Levet.”

  Torque made a sound of disgust. “Do you want me to throw him out of the lair?”

  She sent him a chiding frown. “Of course not.”

  He shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

  Ignoring his ridiculous words, she grabbed Levet’s shoulder and gave him a small shake. The gargoyle groaned softly, but his eyes remained shut.

  “He was trying to reach my mother when he collapsed,” she muttered.

  “Reach your mother?” Torque demanded. “How?”

  “Levet claims to be a telepath.”

  Torque snorted. “He claims to be a lot of things.”

  She turned her head to study him in confusion. “I thought he was your friend?”

  “Friend?” Torque shuddered. “He is a barnacle that is impossible to scrape off.”

  “Hey,” Levet protested, his eyes fluttering open. “I am no banjo.”