Charred by Darkness

  “Oh, it is you, Crowley,” he said, his tail twitching as the demon continued to hold him off the ground. Really, why were demons forever grabbing his horns? It was as if they had some strange fetish. “What a lovely surprise,” he continued, a smile pasted to his lips. “Is that a new tumor on your neck? It is quite stylish.”

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Crowley snarled, his eyes glowing red.

  “For moi? How nice.”

  “It’s nice for me. Now I don’t have to worry about trying to hunt you down,” Crowley said, his protruding lower jaw making the words come out slurred.

  Levet’s smile never faltered. “You do know that most demons find that the chase is much more entertaining than capturing your prize?”

  “Nothing will be more entertaining than ripping out your heart and eating it.”

  He lifted Levet even higher.

  As if he was judging whether he could eat him in one bite.

  “No need for haste, Crowley.”

  The demon pulled back his lips, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. “Don’t worry. I intend to take my time.”

  “If this is about your daughter—”

  Crowley released a deafening roar that sent the nearby pixies diving beneath their tables and the butterflies zigzagging in a dizzying circle, like a strobe light the humans used in their clubs.

  Levet grimaced. It’d been two centuries since Levet had met Crowley’s daughter at a tribal gathering in Siberia. It was not his fault that the awkward young female had developed a violent crush on him and tried to follow him back to America.

  He was quite simply irresistible to women.

  Crowley’s flat nose flared with fury. “I am going to smoosh you.”

  “Smoosh me?” Levet clicked his tongue. He had been insulted and badgered by the very best. This demon was a sad disappointment. “Troll mongrels are as tedious as full-blooded trolls. If you are going to threaten me, you could at least come up with something more clever.”

  Crowley tilted back his head to bray like a mule. Levet assumed it was the mongrel’s version of a hissy fit.

  Before he could do any smooshing, however, a rich, throaty voice echoed through the club, brushing over Levet’s skin like black velvet.

  “Release him, Crowley.”

  Levet swiveled his head in time to watch a female step out of a door near the back of the club.

  She was a tiny wisp of a creature with a heart-shaped face and golden eyes that held flecks of starlight. Her hair was inky black and cut so short it should have made her look like a boy. But there was nothing boyish about her. Not even with the leather pants and heavy boots that she wore.

  Maybe it was the red, sparkly halter that molded to her firm breasts. Or the sway of her hips as she strolled toward him. Or, more likely, it was the feminine power that burned around her with tangible force.

  No one could mistake her for anything but a fiercely dangerous female.

  Levet smiled. He’d met Vex in Greece shortly after he’d been kicked out of the Gargoyle Guild. She’d been tossed out of the Succubus Guild about the same time. It was only natural that the two outcasts would form a friendship that had lasted over the centuries.

  “Oui, Crowley, release me,” he said to the demon who continued to dangle him by the horn.

  Crowley growled, curling back his lips as if about to take a bite. Then power zapped through the room, silencing the guests and making the troll mongrel give a small whimper. Vex had the ability to enter a person’s mind and do all sorts of bad, bad things.

  “Crowley, I said release him.”

  The troll mongrel dropped Levet to the ground and scurried away with his stunted tail between his legs.

  Levet flapped his wings as Vex strolled to stand at his side. She topped him by several inches, but she was one of the few demons who didn’t tower over him.

  “Still making friends wherever you go, eh Levet?”

  Levet gave a lift of his hands. “But of course. I am adorable.”

  “Hmm.” Her lips twitched. “What are you doing here? The last I heard, you were too good for the rest of us riffraff. Aren’t you rubbing elbows with royalty now?”

  Levet puffed out his chest. “It is true my services are in high demand with the most powerful demons.”

  “So what brings you to the gutters?”

  Levet snorted, glancing around the large room filled with marble, crystal and drunken guests.

  “As a demon who has spent many years in the gutters, as well as the sewers, and several moldy crypts, I can assure you this fine establishment does not resemble any of those nasty locations,” he said.

  Vex shrugged. She was well aware that an invitation to her private club was a privilege that demons often fought over.

  “Let’s get a drink,” she said, turning to lead him across the dance floor. Instantly the crowd scurried to get out of her path. She might be small, but there was no doubt that Vex was queen of her domain. “I have a private stash of nectar in my office.”

  Levet waited until they’d entered the long room that looked more suited for a human professor. The walls were hidden behind shelves stuffed with leather-bound books, and woven carpets covered the floor. At the far end a massive desk was situated near a fireplace.

  “You may not feel so generous with your nectar when you discover why I am here,” Levet warned, watching the slender succubus as she poured a thick, amber liquid into two fluted glasses.

  Vex turned to thrust a glass into his hand before she leaned against the edge of the desk. “Are you in trouble?”

  Levet sipped the nectar, his tail twitching as the fey magic warmed his blood.

  “It was not my fault,” he assured his companion.

  Vex rolled her eyes. “It never is. Not even when you dared that Baon demon to try and sneak into the orc nest to steal his demon brew.”

  Levet tried to look innocent. Baon was a slough demon who was terrorizing a tribe of wood nymphs when Levet and Vex happened to be passing through. Levet challenged the idiot to see who could steal the demon brew the quickest.

  “How could I know that he was protected by a pack of hellhounds?”

  Vex chuckled. “The last I saw of the demon he was running down the side of the mountain with at least two hellhounds biting his ass. I bet he couldn’t sit for a month.”

  “It could not have happened to a better demon,” Levet said.

  “True.” Vex held her glass up in a mocking toast before tossing back the nectar in one gulp. She licked her full lips as she set aside the empty glass on the desk and regarded Levet with a searching gaze. “Now, tell me what you need from me.”

  Levet continued to savor the nectar in small sips. Unlike Vex, he didn’t have the money or clout to get his hands on the rare drink.

  Between swallows, Levet recounted the events over the past few days, including Torque’s mating with Rya and how they’d located Synge’s daughter, Blayze. Then he told her about his journey to Synge’s lair where he’d broken through the illusion to reveal the echoes of the curse, and the fact that it’d been released by a vampire.

  When he was done, he studied Vex’s pale, perfect face. The last thing he expected was for her to tilt back her head and chuckle with rich amusement.

  “There’s a pissed-off dragon trapped on the top of The Viper Pit?”

  Levet swallowed a sigh. He’d forgotten that Viper and Vex had a less-than-friendly competition between their rival nightclubs.

  “Unfortunately, Styx does not find it nearly so amusing,” he muttered.

  “He wouldn’t,” she said in dry tones. “I’m afraid I don’t have any skill that would help kill a dragon.” She pretended to consider for a long moment. “Of course, if you’re hoping to kill the vampires I might be able to hook you up.”

  Levet gave a hasty shake of his head. “No killing.”

  Vex wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t use to be such a party pooper.”

  “I am not a poop of the party,” Levet den
ied. “I merely wish to prevent a war between the dragons and vampires. It would make my friend Tayla most unhappy.”

  Vex folded her arms over her chest. “It would make the entire demon world unhappy. War is always messy. And if it is between two of the most fierce predators…”

  A hush filled the office as they both contemplated the horror.

  It was Levet who at last broke the silence. “I need to find Blayze and return her to Synge’s lair before that happens,” he told his companion. “Will you help?”

  She gave a slow nod. “Take me to where your dragon disappeared.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  As much as Char wanted to toss Blayze over his shoulder and carry her out of the throne room, he was smart enough to comprehend her fierce need to discover who’d hated her enough to curse her. And to relish her long overdue desire for revenge.

  Leashing his dragon instincts, he took a position behind Blayze as she slowly began to weave her way through the guests. Most of them ignored her as they concentrated on trying to find the best position to be seen by Synge. No doubt they hoped to attract the attention of the powerful dragon to barter for some favor.

  Char had witnessed the same behavior during the centuries he’d spent standing beside Baine. Dragons never gathered together simply to have a good time and enjoy each other’s company. It was all about angling for greater power and riches to add to their hoard.

  Kind of sad, when he thought about it.

  Char gave a shake of his head. Now wasn’t the time to regret the dragons’ lack of social skills.

  If Blayze’s theory was right, somewhere in this room was a craven bastard who was willing to curse a mere babe. He needed to focus on keeping her safe. Plus, he didn’t like the way the male gazes were following her slender body as she moved through the room with her shimmering beaded gown and luminous skin.

  His dragon stirred inside him, restless to warn off the idiots who dared to even glance in her direction.

  In an effort to keep himself from doing something stupid, he moved to walk close beside Blayze.

  “Do you sense anything?” he demanded.

  She gave a small shake of her head. “Not yet.”

  His lips parted, but before he could continue the conversation, his attention was captured by the sight of two male dragons huddled together, whispering in the shadows.

  One was almost as large as Synge, although not as muscular, with long black hair and a heavily jowled face. He was wearing a long crimson robe that was threaded with gold and decorated with large diamonds around the collar. His companion was smaller, with the same dark hair and dark eyes. He was wearing a similar robe, although it lacked the sparkle factor.

  He looked like the dragon version of a Mini-Me.

  Char’s gaze narrowed as the two dragons began to inch along the edge of the crowd, clearly headed toward the nearby door.

  He reached to lightly touch Blayze’s arm. “Wait,” he murmured.

  She turned her head, her face unreadable. “What is it?”

  “You continue to mingle,” he told her.

  “What about you?”

  Char gave a covert nod of his head toward the dragons who’d captured his attention.

  “Those two are looking pretty shady,” he said in low tones. “I want to find out what’s going on.”

  She gave a slow nod of her head. “Fine.”

  His fingers tightened on her arm. “While I’m gone, don’t leave this room.”

  She blinked, her head tilting to the side. “Why do you assume you can give me orders?” Her tone was more curious than angry.

  “Because I was given the duty of protecting you.” He gazed down at her upturned face. When had he memorized each sweep and curve of her features? The wide brow. The slender nose. The high slashes of her cheekbones. The plush temptation of her lips. Probably the second he’d caught sight of her lying helpless on her bed. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to let anything happen to you.”

  Her brows drew together. As if she was troubled by his response, but she wasn’t sure why.

  “I’m a duty?” she demanded.

  Char released a short laugh. “That’s what I’m trying to convince myself.”

  She continued to look puzzled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m painfully aware of that,” he muttered, shaking his head as he released her arm and stepped back. “Don’t leave this room.”

  He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond. Instead he plunged into the milling crowd, ignoring the furious glares as he elbowed his way to the far wall.

  He didn’t want the two dragons to disappear among the maze of corridors that crisscrossed the lair.

  Stepping out of the throne room, he paused long enough to determine the echo of footsteps was coming from his left. He pressed close to the wall as he followed the fading sound.

  The lair wasn’t exactly the same as it would be in the future, but it was close enough for Char to realize they were headed toward the harem. He could already catch the rich scent of perfumed oils in the air.

  He grimaced. Was it possible the two dragons were simply going to indulge their passions? It was hardly unusual for party guests to seek out companionship among the female servants.

  He hesitated at the arched opening to the harem, peeking a glance into the large inner chamber.

  The floor was covered with mosaic tiles, and in the center was a large fountain that sprayed water into the air. The walls were made of delicate latticework, and the ceiling was domed and covered with precious gems.

  Char watched as the two males crossed the floor, waving away the females who scurried to offer their services. They exited into a darkened room on the other side of the main chamber.

  Char shuffled through his memories. When he’d been living in this lair, that particular room the males had just entered was one of the few spaces that had only one entrance. Which meant no one could easily creep up to overhear their conversation.

  Thankfully, his time in this household meant he was well aware that Synge was deeply suspicious of anyone who entered his lair. The ancient dragon had dozens of hidden tunnels that threaded their way between the various chambers.

  A perfect place to listen in to private exchanges.

  His brow furrowed as he tried to recall where the opening to the nearest tunnel was located. At the same time, he caught the scent of cherries as a pretty imp crossed the harem floor to peer out the door.

  She had golden curls that tumbled down her back, a pale face that was dominated by a pair of green eyes, and a lush figure that was put on full display by the sheer gown that hugged her curves.

  Exactly the sort of female who should have had him panting with appreciation.

  Instead, he was trying to figure out how to get rid of her so he could continue with his quest.

  “Do you seek entertainment?” the imp asked, her gaze taking a slow, appreciative survey of Char.

  He silently formed a dozen different lies. Then he abruptly dismissed them.

  Servants were far more observant than most purebloods ever realized. The female could be an asset if he could convince her that he wasn’t there to harm Synge or his family.

  “No, I seek a means to overhear a private conversation,” he confessed in a soft voice, his gaze moving toward the door that was firmly closing behind the two dragons.

  She stiffened, assuming an air of outrage. “Servants do not spy on guests in this lair.”

  Char flattened his lips, hiding his smile. He doubted that things had changed so drastically from century to century. Servants always spied on the guests. Then they would pass along any juicy gossip to Synge knowing that they would be well rewarded.

  “Of course not,” he quickly agreed. “But I am a personal guard within Ravel’s clan. We believe she and the child she is carrying might be in danger.”

  A sincere concern rippled over the pale, lovely face. It seemed that Ravel was popular among the servants.

&nb
sp; “Have you informed the master?” she demanded.

  He heaved a rueful sigh. “I did try. Unfortunately, he is convinced no one would dare harm his mate.” Char held the imp’s gaze. “I cannot entirely share his confidence.”

  The imp bit her bottom lip, clearly torn between her loyalty to Synge and her worry that something might happen to Ravel. At last she squared her shoulders. Her decision was made.

  “Do you swear never to reveal I assisted you?” she asked.

  He pressed a hand to the center of his chest. “I swear.”

  With a glance over her shoulder to make sure the two males were still behind the closed door, she stepped into the corridor with him.

  “This way,” she said, leading him a short distance to an elaborate tapestry that was hung on the stone wall.

  Pulling it back, she revealed a narrow opening that ran between the rooms.

  “Thank you,” Char murmured, stepping toward the opening.

  Without warning the imp leaned forward, trailing her fingers lightly down Char’s neck.

  “If you wish to thank me, I have a perfect means,” she said in husky tones. “I will be waiting in the harem when you have finished your business.”

  Char found himself oddly tongue-tied. Where was his quick wit? He was a master of flirtation. Or at least he used to be.

  Right now he felt as awkward as a bashful troll.

  “I—”

  The imp dropped her hand and stepped back. “You are mated?”

  Mated. The word hung in the air like a hand grenade that might explode at any second.

  Then, like any male who was contemplating having his entire world turned upside down, he cowardly slammed the mental door on the mere notion. Much better to pretend he didn’t know what was going on.

  “I am not certain what I am,” he told her.

  She heaved a deep sigh. “A shame.”

  “No shit.”

  With a shake of his head, Char hurried down the narrow space. His strange fascination with Blayze was a distraction he didn’t need. Not now.

  Probably not ever.

  He slowed and came to a halt as the sound of male voices floated through a trellised grate just ahead. He wanted to get closer, but he didn’t dare take the risk they could sense his presence. Right now his scent could easily be coming from any of the nearby rooms.