Bound By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #8)(35)

“Sometimes.” His voice was thick as he choked on the vivid image of blood. So much blood. “Usually she preferred to carve them with her knife.” He shuddered. “She called it her living art.”

She stroked a tentative hand over his chest. As if unfamiliar with offering comfort.

“She made you watch?”

“Yes.”

“Bitch.”

Oddly her simple condemnation was more soothing than any amount of fancy words of sympathy.

“That was the general consensus,” he agreed dryly.

She paused, studying him with an unwavering gaze. “Was it worth the sacrifice?”

He shrugged.

It was a question that was never far from his mind.

It didn’t seem possible that anything could be worth enduring such pain and loss. But then he had only to recall the brutal days beneath the rule of the Dark Lord to be reminded of why they were willing to sacrifice everything to be free.

“It will be if I can prevent the return of the Dark Lord,” he said, tugging a strand of her raven hair. “Which is why I’ll do whatever I have to to keep him imprisoned.”

She ignored his warning. “What will you do if you succeed ?”

“Live in peace with my tribe.”

“With you as their prince?”

He shrugged. He’d never asked to become prince.

“Until they choose a new leader.”

“Do you get a throne and a crown?”

His brows lifted. Was she actually teasing him?

The thought was unexpectedly erotic.

Okay, every thought that included Jaelyn was erotic, he wryly conceded, rolling on top of her slender frame with a low groan of satisfaction.

“No, but I do get my choice of consorts,” he murmured.

“Really?” Her lips tightened. Ah, feminine disapproval. It spanned the species. “I suppose you have them all picked out?”

He shifted until he could press his hardening erection against her inner thigh.

“One, at least.”

A dark emotion flared through her eyes before it was being ruthlessly crushed.

Had it been ... yearning?

No, impossible.

“Don’t look my way, fairy. Even if I didn’t want to constantly punch you in the face, I’m not consort material.”

“I’m a patient man,” he assured her, bending down to whisper against her lips, still swollen from his kisses. “I’m willing to train you.”

She rammed her fingers into his hair, but she made no effort to push him away.

Thank the gods.

“For a fairy who claims he wants to live in peace you play a dangerous game.”

He traced her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “Your turn to share.”

She shivered, the scent of her arousal spicing the air. “I think I’ve shared more than enough.”

“Tell me, Jaelyn.”

“Tell you what?”

“Why do you have nightmares?”

She cursed, abruptly pressing her hands against his chest. “Levet.”

He lifted his head with a frown. “The gargoyle?”

“Yes.”

Ariyal had a vague recollection of the miniature demon who had been traveling with the vampire Tane.

Aggravating pest.

“Well, he would certainly give anyone nightmares, but I’m not sure what he has to do with our conversation,” he muttered.

“He’s approaching.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“ Damn.”

With a pang of regret, he rolled off the bed and yanked on the jeans that had replaced his dojo pants before he left Avalon. Then, holding out his hand, he muttered the harsh words of magic that called his bow and arrows.

Behind him he heard Jaelyn pulling on her bits of spandex before she moved to stand at his side.

“What are you doing?”

“His arrival can’t be a coincidence.” Ariyal concentrated on the door, prepared to shoot the moment it opened. “The creature has obviously followed us here.”

“Not us,” Jaelyn corrected. “He’s looking for your charming spirit.”

“Who?”

“Yannah. He has some sort of gargoyle crush on her.”

He turned to watch her efficiently pull her hair into a smooth braid.

“Is this a joke?”

She crushed his brief hope with a decisive shake of her head. “No. He scented Yannah on me when I arrived in London and decided to join us.”

“And you let him?” he snarled in disbelief.

“Hey, he helped me rescue your ass, so just ...”

“Just what?”

“Chill.”

The King of Were’s lair in St. Louis

Santiago shuddered as the mists at last cleared.

Mierda.

He hadn’t signed up for this when Styx had sent him in search of Cassandra.

He was prepared to battle demons, Sylvermyst, and even a mage if necessary.

He wasn’t prepared to be hauled around in a strange, choking mist by an exquisite female who had turned her back on the world centuries ago.

Or to abruptly find himself in an unfamiliar room miles from where he’d started.

Swiftly he took stock of his surroundings.