Fear the Darkness

Page 47

“Forgive me, Mistress.”
She sniffed, not entirely pacified. “Certainly you shall be punished for your betrayal, but for now you’re in for a special treat.”
He hid his shudder. The Dark Lord’s idea of a “special treat” would make any sane man cringe in horror.
“Am I?”
“Yes, I have my sacrifice.” Reaching down, the Dark Lord grabbed the fairy by the throat and dangled her like a trophy. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
“Very beautiful,” he dutifully agreed, despite the fact the poor fairy looked like she’d been pulled out of a cesspit.
“I do wish she was awake,” the Dark Lord pouted. “Sacrifices are so much more fun when they scream, don’t you think?”
Gaius grimaced, the unwelcomed reminder of his twisted pleasure in causing females pain slicing through him. He tried to tell himself that it had been his driving sense of guilt at betraying his mate, even if she was dead, that had caused the violence. And that he’d always known deep inside him that he was allowing himself to drown in the evil temptation the Dark Lord offered because it was the only way to ignore his faltering sense of honor.
But there was no excuse.
None.
“I do,” he admitted bleakly.
The blue eyes narrowed as the Dark Lord easily sensed his pulsing regret. “Really, Gaius, you have proven to be a serious disappointment,” she snapped, her power slashing against Gaius like a thousand knives. Only when blood was dripping from his wounds and his knees barely capable of holding him upright did she return her attention to the fairy dangling from her hand. “But no matter. Soon enough I shall be able to have my pick of worshippers.”
Thank the gods, Gaius silently celebrated. The sooner the bitch had her worshippers, the sooner she would put an end to his misery.
Then his dark thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable scent of vampire. Testing the air, he realized the odor was coming from the fairy.
“She smells of Kostas,” he muttered in confusion.
“Yes.” The female deity smiled with a cruel satisfaction. “He was kind enough to have her waiting at his altar.”
“And Kostas?” He glanced over her shoulder, seeing nothing but swirling fog. “Is he here?”
“Of course not. He used his talents to kidnap the child. He was no longer needed.” The Dark Lord frowned at Gaius’s sharp burst of laughter. “What is so funny?”
Gaius shook his head, unable to mourn the arrogant vampire. He’d warned the bastard, hadn’t he? “Nothing.”
The Dark Lord stabbed him with a suspicious glare before giving a wave of her hand to part the mists, revealing the baby she’d left hidden.
“Bring me the child,” she commanded.
Reluctantly, Gaius moved to scoop Maluhia into his arms, a strange ache in the center of his chest as he gazed down at the wide blue eyes.
Innocent. So horribly innocent.
“He’s awake,” he said, his voice unsteady. A warning prickle of heat crawled over his skin.
“Don’t even think of doing anything foolish.”
Gaius’s lips twisted. He’d already tried foolish. What else did you call helping the prophet and her protector to escape?
It didn’t work out any better than his blind faith in evil.
“I’ve accepted my destiny,” he assured his companion, crossing to stand directly before her.
“As have I,” the Dark Lord murmured, bending the fairy over her arm and casually ripping out her throat. She chuckled in gruesome pleasure as the blood gushed over both of them, her eyes once again filled with crimson fire. “And it is to be glorious.”
Gaius stumbled backward as the Dark Lord dropped the dead fairy and reached to take the baby into her arms, the mists abruptly thickening around her.
A suffocating power crackled through the fog and Gaius groaned. Cristo, the very air was crushing him beneath its force.
He considered fleeing, but where would he go? And what would happen when the Dark Lord came looking for him?
He’d earned enough punishment for one lifetime.
Besides, if he stayed close enough, maybe the backlash of her transformation would rip him apart. Not a bad way to go, all things considered.
The defeatist thought had barely been formed when there was the sensation of trembling beneath his feet. He frowned, glancing down. What was that? An earthquake? A tsunami?
Or was the very fabric of the world about to be split apart?
At this point, nothing would surprise him.
Or at least, that’s what he was arrogant enough to assume.
Until a blinding flash of light pierced through the fog surrounding the Dark Lord.
Gaius hissed, throwing up his arm to protect his eyes. It was like being in the middle of a nuclear blast. No, worse, he corrected as an abrupt wind seared past him, melting his flesh from his bones.
He was being cooked alive with no promise of death.
Sinking to his knees as the ground beneath his feet heaved and rolled with a growing violence, Gaius screamed until he had no voice left.
And still the brutal wind continued to pummel him, stripping him to his very bones as a female laugh echoed in the distance.
“Tremble before me.”
Chapter 19
Outside Styx’s lair in Chicago
Cassie kneeled beside Caine, keeping guard despite the knowledge she would be no match against the powerful vampires and Weres and a dozen other demons she could sense in the massive brick home.
A fact that was only reinforced as a male Were crossed the manicured lawn with long strides, the glow of his golden eyes visible even from a distance. She shuddered, her muscles rigid with shock.
Holy crap. The very air sizzled with his power. The kind of power only a king could command.
She instinctively moved to stand between Caine and the approaching intruder, something in her expression making him halt a few feet away, his hand lifted in a gesture of peace.
“Cassandra?”
She allowed her gaze to skim over the lean, hard body that was emphasized by the tailored pinstripe suit before rising to the handsome face. With his dark hair slicked back into a neat tail, and his bronzed skin recently shaved, he should have looked like a civilized businessman.
Instead he looked . . . lethal.
A predator that would kill without mercy.
“You’re Salvatore?” she demanded, her voice husky with weariness.
“Yes.” He lowered his hand. “May I approach?”
She hesitated. She hadn’t forgotten that not so long ago Salvatore and Caine had been mortal enemies. Or that the king had sworn to have Caine’s head on a platter.
But what choice did she have?
She didn’t know precisely what had been done to Caine, but she did know their best hope was Salvatore. Only a king could call back a Were once they’d gone feral. It had something to do with their connection to the pack.
If anyone could reach Caine, it would be this man.
Hesitantly she moved back, glancing toward the Were who lay unconscious on the ground, his mutilated body bathed in moonlight.
“Caine’s been hurt.”
“So I see,” he said gently, moving to study Caine. “Was it a spell?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who cast it?”
“A cur named Dolf.”
His golden gaze snapped in her direction, the scent of his wolf thick in the air “The cur traveling with Gaius?” He muttered a curse at her nod. “Bastard. Do you know where he is now?”
She didn’t have time to wonder how the king knew about Dolf. “Dead.”
“You’re certain?”
“That’s what Gaius claimed.” She frowned at the urgency in his tone. “Why?”
He schooled his features into an unreadable mask. “It’s always easier for the caster to remove the spell.”
She heaved a frustrated sigh. She had celebrated the thought of Dolf ’s painful demise and now it seemed he was the one person she needed alive.
Such perfect irony.
“You can help him, can’t you?”
“I . . .” Salvatore abruptly cut off his words as Caine shifted on the ground, clearly starting to shake off Tane’s savage punch. “We need to get him inside.”
Cassie leaped forward to place a restraining hand on Salvatore’s arm. “Wait.”
The king frowned, clearly unaccustomed to having his decisions challenged.
Typical alpha.
“We don’t have much time before he wakes.”
“I need your promise that you won’t hurt him.”
He held her steady gaze, his expression hardening. “You know I can’t make that promise, Cassandra.” He held up a hand to halt her impulsive words. “But I do swear that I will do everything in my power to call him back.”
She scowled at his bleak promise. “That’s not good enough.”
“It’s all I have.”
Before she could continue the argument, Salvatore bent down to grasp Caine around the waist. Then, with an impressive display of raw strength, he had the still-unconscious Were slung over one broad shoulder and was heading toward the looming mansion.