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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

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BOOK: Devoured By Darkness
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She blinked, trying to figure out what new game he was playing. Did he really think she was stupid enough to believe he had become her aunt’s henchman, not to mention chased her and the baby halfway around the world, for shits and grins?

“I don’t believe you. You’re …”

“Evil is no doubt the word you’re searching for,” he smoothly completed her sentence.

Her chin tilted. “That’s exactly the word I want. It’s no secret the Sylvermyst willingly worshipped the Dark Lord and were banished from this world.”

“Most
were banished, Laylah,” he corrected, anger flaring in his beautiful eyes. “Get your facts straight. Some of us chose to become slaves rather than continue to follow the Dark Lord.”

She frowned at the throbbing sincerity in his voice. “Only because you didn’t want to be cast out.”

“A fey does not put himself in the hands of Morgana le Fay just to avoid banishment.” An ancient, unimaginable pain twisted his features. “Trust me.”

Against her will, Laylah found herself wondering if he could be speaking the truth.

Not that she trusted him. A man like Ariyal would always have his own agenda.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out.

After all, the longer she could keep him occupied, the better chance that Tane would come riding to the rescue.

And she didn’t doubt for a minute that her mate was already on the hunt.

“Fine, I’ll play,” she said. “If you don’t plan to use Maluhia to return the Dark Lord, then what do you intend to do with him.”

He pulled a large, indecently sharp sword from the scabbard strapped to his back.

“I intend to kill him.”

Tane flowed with silent speed through the tunnels, only distantly aware of the tiny gargoyle struggling to keep pace.

His mating bond with Laylah assured him that she was alive and somewhere in the lower chambers of the mountain, but his vampire senses warned him that the tremors shaking the ground beneath his feet were warming up for something truly catastrophic. Within the next few hours this whole damned mountain was coming down.

Time to pack up and move on.

The sooner the better.

If only he could convince his stubborn mate.

Rounding a sharp curve in the tunnel, Tane and Levet came to a matching halt, both glancing toward the entrance to a nearby opening in the stone wall.

“Why do I smell female vampire?” Levet demanded, a sly smile curving his lips. “And does Laylah know you are keeping a secret stash?”

Tane tested the air, a dagger clenched in his hand. “It isn’t Marika.”

“No.” Levet frowned. “But it is familiar.”

It was familiar. Tane’s brows snapped together as he realized why.

“Jaelyn.”

“Oui.”
The gargoyle was equally confused. “I thought she was hunting the Sylvermyst?”

Tane carefully inched forward, peering inside the narrow opening.

“She was.”

“Then what …” Levet squeezed beside Tane to get a glimpse of the female vampire who was bound and gagged in the center of the hard stone floor. “Oh. Kinky, but I like it.”

Tane snorted as Jaelyn glared at the gargoyle with a promise of pain to come.

“Do you have a death wish, gargoyle?” he demanded.

“Non.”
Indifferent to the danger, the tiny demon gave a flap of his wings. “But I do have several birthday wishes if you would like to hear them. My party is to be held next month.”

“I can’t think of anything I want less.” “Fine.” Levet gave a wounded sniff. “See if you get an invitation.”

Tane shook his head, turning his attention to the female vampire.

He could make out the cuts and bruises that were visibly healing, but he couldn’t detect any serious wounds. Which meant there was no way she should be held captive by the simple leather straps.

Something else was going on.

“Stay here and keep your mouth shut,” he muttered, stepping through the opening and pressing himself against the jagged wall.

“Hey. I saved your worthless …”

“Do you want to walk into a trap?” Tane hissed.

Levet looked sulky. “Not particularly.”

“Then let me concentrate.”

“Oui,
concentrate to your heart’s content.”

Remaining against the wall, Tane caught and held the other vampire’s gaze.

“Jaelyn, do you know what happened to you?” He waited for her nod. “Was it the Sylvermyst?” Her eyes flared with fury. Okay, he was going to take that as a yes. “Bastard,” he muttered, his lips twisting as she gave a fervent nod of agreement. He paused, his gaze skimming around the darkness. “Can I come to you?” He wasn’t surprised when she shook her head. “Is there a spell?” She deliberately tilted back her head, gazing upward. He leaned forward to follow her gaze, his gut twisting at the sight of the black shadow hovering near the ceiling. “Shit. Levet.”

“Oh, now you need me … eek.”

The demon screeched as Tane reached to grab him by the horn and dragged him into the cave.

“Can you control spooks?”

Levet struggled against Tane’s ruthless grip, his wary glance heading upward.

“Only evil dabbles with the dead.
Sacrebleu”
He shuddered. “Spirits, zombies, vampires. They should stay in their graves where they belong.”

Tane ignored the insult, swinging the gargoyle toward the strange symbols surrounded by a circle that had been burnt into the rock floor.

“What’s that?”

Levet continued to thrash around, his tail twitching in agitation.

“It must be where the Sylvermyst cast the spell that is holding the spirit.”

“What happens if you disturb the symbols?”

“It’s possible that it will release the ghost. Not that pleasant of a thought,” Levet said, his tone sour. “Or it might return it to the Underworld.”

Tane silently debated. He hated specters. How did you kill something that was already technically dead?

Hell, you couldn’t even injure them.

Good news was, they rarely bothered vampires. Bad news was, he didn’t know a damned thing about them.

His gaze flicked from the circle to the shadow spinning above. Time to roll the dice.

“At the very least it should keep the creature distracted,” he said aloud.

“More likely it will just piss him off.”

Tane set the gargoyle on the ground. “We’re about to find out.”

Levet scrambled for the opening. “It is your baptism.” “Funeral,” Tane muttered, grabbing the twitching tale and tugging the coward back into the cave. “It’s my funeral.”

“Whatever.” Levet folded his arms over his chest. “I will wait here.”

“What you’re going to do is give me enough time to get Jaelyn free,” Tane corrected in frigid tones.

“Why do you not play decoy for the ghost and I will rescue the maiden?”

“Do I really have to state the obvious?” Tane asked, casting a meaningful gaze over the stunted three-foot form.

Levet called him jackass in several languages before conceding defeat.

“If I get eaten by a ravenous, flesh-eating specter I am going to haunt you for the rest of eternity.”

“Shit, don’t even joke about it.” Tane held up three fingers. “On the count of three.”

One by one he lowered his fingers, then trusting the gargoyle to keep up his end of the rescue mission, he rushed across the floor, tossing Jaelyn over his shoulder and heading back across the cave. Once at the entrance he lowered her to the ground and easily sliced through the leather straps. She took care of the gag herself, tossing it aside with a foul curse.

There was a flash of light and Tane turned his head to see Levet using his magic to destroy the symbols.

A loud shriek cut through the air, and Levet fell to the floor, his arms folded over his head and his tail between his legs as the dark shadow arrowed straight for him.

“Help,” the demon screamed. “Tane, get it away.”

Ignoring the urge to leave the annoying gargoyle to his fate, Tane shoved his dagger back into its sheath and stepped toward the center of the cave.

A blade, no matter how sharp, wasn’t going to help against a spirit.

The shadow continued downward, swooping over the shivering gargoyle’s wings before landing just outside the destroyed circle.

Tane growled in warning, but before he could charge to the rescue, the shadow was shifting and pulsing in an ominous manner.

He stilled, warily eyeballing the strange phenomenon.

Was the thing going to disappear? Or attack?

Turned out, it did neither.

Instead the darkness coalesced, changing from a formless blob into a tiny female barely four feet tall.

Fear jabbed through Tane’s heart at the familiar sight of the small, heart-shaped face with the almond eyes that were entirely filled with black and the childishly small body that was covered by a plain white robe.

She looked so similar to Siljar that Tane briefly thought the powerful Oracle was haunting him.

A hideous thought.

Then he realized that the delicate features were cut on softer lines and the long hair that floated eerily around her shoulders was a pale gold rather than gray.

The female was obviously the same species as Siljar, but a younger version.

Oh, and dead.

Or at least he assumed she was a ghost.

He didn’t know enough about the peculiar demons to know for sure.

Still cowering on the ground, Levet kicked his tiny feet, his head tucked beneath his arms.

“Get it away,” he cried. “Get it away.”

“For God’s sake, open your eyes,” Tane snapped.

“And have my soul sucked out? Do not be ridiculous.”

Tane heaved a sigh. “Levet, open your damned eyes.”

There was a long pause before the gargoyle at last re moved his arms so he could peek at the tiny woman standing at his side.

“Oh.” Almost as if he were embarrassed, Levet scrambled to his feet.

Tane felt a cold stir of air as Jaelyn stepped to his side. “Don’t hurt her,” she told Levet. “She was only doing as Ariyal commanded.”

Levet’s glance didn’t stray from the specter, his expression … dumbfounded.

“Oh.”

The female leaned toward the gargoyle, seeming to be as fascinated as Levet.

“Do I know you?” Her voice was sweetly musical, but filled with a surprising power considering she was a ghost.

“Levet, at your service.” The gargoyle performed a formal bow. “And you are?”

“Yannah.” With a tinkling laugh the female suddenly grabbed Levet’s face between her hands and kissed him with a shocking intimacy.

When she finished, Levet’s wings were flapping and his tail twitching.

“Yannah,” he breathed. “You are … I am …”

His stammering words were brought to an end as the ghost reared back her arm and before anyone could guess her intent she had cold-cocked the gargoyle, sending him flying through the air to hit against the far wall. Then, taking a moment to wave a tiny hand in Jaelyn’s direction, the ghost abruptly disappeared.

Tane’s brows lifted as Levet peeled himself off the wall and marched toward the opening with a grim expression.

Talk about bizarre encounters.

“Levet, where are you going?”

“I am French,” the demon muttered, his steps never slowing. “Your point?”

“No woman kisses me like that and then disappears.”

Tane didn’t halt the gargoyle’s grim exit. He was honest enough to admit that he owed the annoying demon a debt of honor.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Besides, he didn’t have time to waste trailing after the fool. Every instinct he possessed screamed he had to get to Laylah.

Now.

Turning his head, he assessed his companion. “Are you hurt?”

Jaelyn shrugged, her gaze lowered to effectively hide her emotions.

“My pride has been brutalized and my manicure will never be the same, but otherwise I’m fine.”

Tane studied the female’s stark profile, sensing there was more than wounded pride churning beneath her don’t-press-the-issue attitude. Thankfully, it wasn’t his concern.

“How did you get here?” he instead asked.

She turned to meet his searching gaze. “I caught the trail of Ariyal as he followed the female vampire and mage to Chicago.”

Tane blinked in surprise. He’d have bet good money the bastard planned to double-cross the female vampire.

“He returned to Marika?”

“No, he was hiding in the woods when he overheard them discussing your Jinn’s journey to this frozen little slice of heaven.”

“Ah.” That made much more sense.

She grimaced. “I tried to stop him.”

“So I see.” Tane’s narrowed gaze roamed over the healing scrapes and bruises, his hands clenching in anticipation of carving punishment out of Ariyal’s fey hide. “Don’t worry, payback’s a bitch.”

“No,” Jaelyn fiercely refused his unspoken offer of a Sylvermyst smack down. “He …”

“What?”

She hunched her shoulder. “He could have killed me. Instead he brought me through the portal and left me here guarded by that spirit.”

“Guarded or held prisoner?”

“Both I suppose,” she muttered.

Was Jaelyn trying to excuse the son of a bitch? How long did it take for that whole Stockholm syndrome to kick in?

“If he kept you alive it was because he thought he could use you as a bargaining chip.” “Vampires don’t bargain.”

“Do you have a better explanation? “ he bluntly challenged.

She gave a very feminine sniff. “Off the top of my head I would guess he simply enjoys torturing me.” She instinctively reached for the gun she kept holstered on her hip, only to come up empty. Ariyal had obviously relieved her of her weapons. “Bastard.”

Tane shook his head. “He’s up to something.”

“Whatever it is, he’s desperate to get his hands on that baby.”

Tane’s fangs extended to their full limit and with a fluid speed he was out of the cave and running through the tunnels.

“Laylah.”

Chapter 22

I intend to kill him …

Laylah took a stumbled step backward, her heart frozen in her chest as she stared in disbelief at the Sylvermyst.

She expected to find hatred etched on that beautiful face. Or fury. Or fanaticism.

Instead there was nothing more than a calm determination that was more terrifying than any amount of ranting and raving.

“Are you demented?” she hissed, hugging Maluhia to her chest. “You can’t kill a helpless baby.”

His lips twisted. “I thought we had already established my evil credentials.”

“Why?”

He pointed the sword at the child in her arms. “It’s the spawn of the Dark Lord.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. It’s innocent.”

“What you believe doesn’t matter. So long as the child exists there will be those determined to use him to return the Master.” His expression hardened. “I can’t allow that.”

A cold prickle brushed the back of her neck, but Laylah didn’t dare glance around. One moment of distraction and the fey could have her head chopped off.

Not only would it make for a very bad day, but the child would be left at the mercy of this sword-wielding maniac.

“Why can’t you allow it?” She covertly stepped to the side, her back feeling excessively exposed to whatever was rushing at her from the tunnel behind her. She could hope that it was Tane, but her luck wasn’t that good. “Sylvermyst would surely rule at the Dark Lord’s side if he is resurrected?”

“Not those who chose slavery rather than follow him into exile.”

She had to admit he had a point.

The Dark Lord wasn’t a forgive and forget kind of deity. Actually he was more of a use-any-excuse-to-maim-and-torture sort of guy.

“You think you would be punished?” she asked.

“Punished?” The Sylvermyst’s laugh was edged with a painful bitterness. “The most we could hope for is utter destruction. The worst …” He shuddered in horror. “An eternity of endless torture.”

“Let’s find out, shall we, traitor?” a cold female voice drawled as Marika stepped into the room, accompanied by her frigid power and surprise, surprise … Sergei. Laylah’s personal, magical, pain in the ass.

“Gods, why won’t you stay dead,” Laylah muttered, instinctively pressing against the far wall of the narrow passage as Marika strolled past her.

The female looked shockingly healthy considering she’d just had half a mountain land on her head.

Her dark hair was a perfect river of black flowing down her back, her pale skin unmarred by injury. But even the powerful vampire couldn’t hide her ripped clothing or the dirt and blood that stained the fine silk.

She’d been gravely injured. Surely she couldn’t be at full strength?

The vampire halted near the wary Sylvermyst, her mocking gaze flicking over Laylah’s rigid body.

“You stupid child, my destiny has been written in the stars. I am not going to be thwarted by a common mongrel.” Her attention returned to Ariyal, no doubt aware that the fey posed the greatest danger at the moment. “Or for that matter, by a treacherous fey who could have ruled the world at my side.”

Ariyal held his sword at an angle, his feet spread wide as he prepared for an attack.

“I didn’t escape becoming a whore for one crazy bitch just so I could take a position with another.” His gaze briefly shot toward Sergei who was blocking the tunnel on one end while Marika deliberately halted to block the other end. “Besides, it’s going to be a little crowded at your side with me and the Dark Lord and the mage and who knows what other gullible male you’ve managed to screw into blind faith.”

Marika hissed, her elongated fangs proving just how lethal a woman scorned could truly be.

“You have sealed your fate, Ariyal.”

The fey twirled his sword, a smile of anticipation curving his lips.

“Let’s dance, vampire.”

“Sergei, cast the spell while I enjoy my dinner,” Marika commanded, advancing toward the fey with her hands curled into claws.

Laylah shuddered. She’d once seen a vampire rip through a brick building with nothing but his claws. It wasn’t a fate she would wish on anyone.

As if sensing her unexpected flare of sympathy, the fey sent her a fierce glare.

“Laylah, get the hell out of here,” he barked, swinging his massive sword as Marika attacked.

Laylah grit her teeth, turning toward the mage who was planted squarely in the middle of the tunnel.

“Do you really think I would still be here if that was an option?” she muttered.

Sergei smiled, stepping toward Laylah with his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

“You want to leave?” he asked. “Put the child down and walk away.”

Behind her, there was a ghastly sound of a blade slicing through flesh, then a grunt of pain followed by the snapping of broken bones. Laylah didn’t turn her head to watch the epic battle. What did it matter who won? They both intended very bad things for her and her baby.

Her best hope was that the two killed each other.

Besides, the approaching mage was her most pressing problem at the moment.

Everyone else would have to get in line.

“Right.” She tucked the baby beneath her cloak, as if that would keep him safe. “And I, of course, have every reason to trust you after you kidnapped me, held me captive, and tortured me on several occasions.”

Sergei shrugged. “It was business.”

“Business is opening a Starbucks, not returning an evil god to destroy the world.”

“Not everyone will be destroyed.” His lips twisted with a self-derisive smile. “There are some who will rule.”

“You can’t be that stupid.”

“Obviously I can.” His gaze darted toward the fight behind her before returning to her, his face pale with … what? Resignation? Regret? “I’ve made my bed.”

She frowned. “Don’t do it, Sergei.” “I just told you, there’s no longer any choice.” “I’ll bring this entire mountain down on our heads,” she warned. “I will survive, but do you think you will be so lucky?”

He didn’t bother to flinch. Maybe he sensed she was barely strong enough to remain upright. Or maybe he was just beyond fear. In either case, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be stopped.

“Your mate already tried the death threat route. It didn’t work for him either.”

Her heart missed a beat. “Tane, is he …”

Before she could finish her sentence, Sergei muttered a series of harsh words and stabbed a hand in her direction. Laylah tried to turn to protect the child from the spell, too late realizing it was intended for her.

A scream was wrenched from her throat as she was slammed against the wall. Not from the pain. She was becoming accustomed to being hit, smashed, and tossed around like she was a rag doll. And what did that say about her life?

No, her scream was that of pure terror as the baby was ripped from her arms by unseen hands and left hovering in midair.

Frantically she struggled to free herself from the invisible bonds that kept her pressed to the side of the tunnel. Gods. This couldn’t be happening. She’d devoted so many years to keeping Maluhia hidden. How could fate be so cruel as to take him from her now?

Distantly she was aware that Tane was rushing in her direction, along with another vampire … Jaelyn? But, it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t going to arrive in time to stop Sergei.

Confirming her greatest fear, the mage stepped forward, briefly glancing toward Marika, almost as if hoping to discover she’d been overcome by the Sylvermyst.

His lips twisted as the bitch vampire ignored her numerous wounds and lifted the battered fey over her head to launch him down the tunnel, laughing as his body landed in an awkward heap.

No need to guess who was winning that particular battle.

As if the sight was enough to prompt him into action, Sergei waved his hand toward the baby still floating in the air. Laylah swore as the shield that protected Maluhia pulsed and shimmered.

Whatever he was doing it was obviously disturbing the stasis spell.

Terror blasted through her, stirring her blood and pumping a much needed boost of adrenaline through her body.

With a fierce effort she strained against the power that held her captive. With a sudden wrench, she managed to break free and tumbled to the hard ground. She cursed as her knees cracked against the stone, but with one motion she was surging to her feet and heading toward the mage.

She had to stop whatever he was doing. She had to …

Taking less than a half dozen steps, Laylah was brought to a painful halt as a slender hand wrapped around her neck and she was jerked off her feet.

“Don’t be a fool,” her aunt warned. “If you disturb the spell the child will die.”

Laylah reached up to grab Marika’s arm, wrapping her fingers around the forearm that was deceptively delicate.

“I’d rather he be dead than used in your sick plans,” she gasped, the crushing grip making it impossible to breathe.

“You’re too late, dear Laylah.” Her aunt’s laughter brushed over her skin with a biting chill. “At last I shall have all that I deserve.”

“Oh, you’re definitely going to get what you deserve.”

Laylah closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of Marika’s skin beneath her palm. She couldn’t overpower the vampire even under the best of circumstances, but she could damned well make her regret squeezing her like she was an empty tube of toothpaste.

Gritting her teeth, she released the power she’d gathered.

She hadn’t expected grand explosions, or point eight on the Richter scale. But the sparks of electricity that danced down her arm were barely enough to shock a dew fairy.

Desperately she struggled to dredge up the last of her strength, only to come up empty. She was drained. Empty.

Her heart faltered, her gaze shifting to where the baby was surrounded by a thousand shimmering lights.

Any moment the stasis spell would be destroyed and the child would become a helpless vessel to be filled with the evil spirit of the Dark Lord.

Screaming in frustration, Laylah dug her nails into Marika’s flesh. It couldn’t end this way. She wouldn’t allow it.

She wouldn’t.

Lost in her sickening sense of failure, it took a moment for Laylah to catch the scent of burning skin.

Bewildered, she glanced down to where she still clutched at the vampire’s arm. Holy crap. The faint sparks were now small, jagged bolts of lightning that were spearing into Marika with devastating results.

She frowned.

What the heck?

The power wasn’t coming from her. Or at least…

Laylah sucked in a shocked breath.

She was accustomed to the surge of energy coming from deep inside her. It was how her powers had always worked, no matter how unpredictable.

Now, however, she realized that she was
filtering
the power. There was no other means to describe it.

Just like a true Jinn she was absorbing the natural forces that surrounded her. The air, the earth, even the frozen water that clung to cracks and crevices, was seeping inside her, not precisely restoring her powers, but instead flowing out of her body and creating the electrical jolts that filled the air.

She shook her head, not taking time to ponder the unexpected turn of events.

It wasn’t the first time a sudden ability had appeared, although rarely when she actually needed it. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

With no control, Laylah had no choice but to allow the power to flood through her, the intensity growing with every heartbeat.

Marika’s fingers tightened on her throat, clearly attempting to snap her neck, but, with a direct reaction to the threat, Laylah’s powers struck out. The female vampire cursed, forced to drop Laylah and retreat several steps.

“You can’t defeat me,” she hissed.

Laylah struggled to keep her balance, shocked by the sight of Marika.

The hand that held her captive was blackened and shriveled, as if it had been stuck in an industrial fire, while there were several other burns scattered over her body.

She’d managed to do a lot more damage than she’d initially realized. Thank God.

She was so weary she could barely stand upright. She could only hope her spanking new abilities would be enough to put an end to the bitch.

“We’re about to find out,” she muttered.

“Stubborn,” Marika snarled, her dark eyes smoldering with hatred. “So like your mother.”

Her chin tilted. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Marika charged forward, slamming Laylah into the wall of the tunnel.

“Why?” the vampire gritted. “She lost. I broke her and now I’m going to break you.”

Without considering the consequences, Laylah curled up her hand and punched the nasty woman directly in the nose.

She didn’t possess a vampire’s strength, but there was a satisfying crunch of cartilage and a spurt of blood as her fist connected.

That one was for her mother.

“No, she didn’t lose,” she hissed. “She will defy you to her dying breath. Just as I will.”

Sharp claws sliced through Laylah’s upper chest and raked down her stomach, ripping through her flesh with a painful ease.

“Continue to battle me and I will make certain that her dying breath happens sooner rather than later,” Marika warned.

Laylah shook her head, gritting her teeth against the agony. Tane had already assured her that Victor’s servant was in the process of rescuing her mother. There wasn’t a damned thing Marika could do to halt him.

“I doubt that.”

“I no longer have need of her. She is … expendable.” Marika mockingly ran her tongue down the intimidating length of her fang. “Unless you concede defeat.”

Laylah narrowed her eyes. The vampire had to be even weaker than she’d first suspected if she was trying to negotiate an end to their battle.

Lifting her hands toward her aunt’s face, Laylah was profoundly relieved when the female hastily backed from her touch.

She could feel the blood dripping down her body from her wounds and she knew she would soon be on her knees. Or worse.

She would have to strike quickly if she intended to survive long enough to rescue her baby.

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