Bound By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #8)(25)

“Hello?” he called softly, his voice laced with a French accent. “Ma cherie? Where are you, you tiresome demon?”

Jaelyn lifted her brows at the realization that it wasn’t coincidence that had brought the gargoyle to this particular house.

“Searching for someone, Levet?” she demanded, allowing the shadows to dissipate.

“Eek!” With a tiny jump, the demon turned to study her with wide gray eyes. “Oh! Jaelyn.”

“Who were you expecting?”

He wrinkled his tiny snout. “I thought I smelled ...”

“Smelled?” she prompted.

“Yannah. Her scent is lingering on you.”

She grimaced, still annoyed with Yannah and her powerful mother.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen her since she shoved me through a portal and I landed face-first in the gutter.”

Levet cleared his throat, looking oddly uneasy as he rubbed one of his horns.

“She ... um ... she did not happen to mention where she was headed, did she?”

“At a guess, I’d say the pits of the nearest hell,” Jaelyn muttered.

“Oh.” His brow furrowed. “Do you have directions?”

Jaelyn blinked. Was he serious?

“No, but I’m miserably certain she’ll be tracking me down in the next few days.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh, pacing the foyer as he considered her words.

“I suppose I have no choice but to wait with you then. I have been attempting to find her since she left Russia.” His wings fluttered in frustration. “She is annoyingly elusive.”

“You’ve been following her for the past three weeks?”

“Oui.”

“Why?”

“Why?” The gargoyle blinked, seemingly astonished by the question. “Because she kissed me.”

“That’s it?” Jaelyn had a brief memory of Yannah grabbing the tiny gargoyle and kissing him before she’d planted her fist into his face, knocking him across the cave. “She kissed you.”

“What can I say?” He lifted his hands in a helpless motion. “I am French.”

Jaelyn abruptly laughed.

There was something oddly endearing about the small gargoyle.

“Well, you’re certainly tenacious,” she said.

The gray gaze shifted toward the unconscious Sylvermyst draped over her shoulder.

“I could say the same of you.”

Jaelyn’s lips flattened. “Not by choice.”

Levet wagged his heavy brows. “Non?”

Jaelyn frowned. Did the silly creature think that she’d knocked Ariyal unconscious to drag him off like she was some sort of cavewoman?

Not a wholly repulsive thought, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Perhaps if she had him alone in her lair for a few nights she could rid herself of the raw, pulsing awareness that he stirred deep inside her.

Just for an instant the vivid image of Ariyal’s lean body spread across her black satin sheets seared through her mind. Would his eyes shimmer with a pure bronze as she slowly explored him from his head to the tips of his toes? Or perhaps she would tie him to the hand-carved headboard and ride him until they both collapsed in sated exhaustion.

It was the aroused ache of her fangs that recalled Jaelyn to her surroundings and the fact the gargoyle was watching her with a knowing gaze.

Dammit.

What the hell was wrong with her? Sexual need was a weakness that was brutally beaten out of Hunters.

Or at least that’s what she’d always believed.

Of course, Ariyal was also the only man capable of smashing through her icy control and igniting the temper she had never realized she possessed.

She hastily thrust aside the disturbing thought.

“No,” she snapped with more force than necessary. “This is a job, nothing more.”

“Hmmm.” The fragile wings twitched as Levet stepped toward her, his gaze locked on the unconscious Ariyal. “Is he dead?”

“Of course not. He was hit by a spell.” As the explanation tumbled from her lips she felt a sudden surge of hope. Gargoyles were creatures of magic, weren’t they? “I don’t suppose you could wake him up?”

Levet waddled forward, sniffing at Ariyal’s feet, which nearly brushed the floor.

“It will soon wear off,” he assured her.

“Damn.” She adjusted him on her shoulder. “He weighs a ton.”

Levet tilted his head to the side. “You are taking him to the Oracles?”

“Eventually,” she offered vaguely, her gaze traveling toward the open door. Despite the darkness she could feel the relentless approach of dawn. “For now I need shelter.”

The gargoyle blinked in bewilderment. “Surely you must sense that there are tunnels beneath this house?”

She gave a sharp shake of her head. “The mage and the Sylvermyst have vanished for the moment, but I can’t risk lingering here.”

“Ah.” The gargoyle tapped a claw to his chin as he considered their options. “Victor has a lair not far from London.”

“Victor?”

“The clan chief of London,” Levet explained with a smug smile. “He is a close and personal friend of mine. I do not doubt he would be pleased to offer us shelter if I were to approach him.”