Darkness Revealed (Guardians of Eternity #4)(56)

He turned, and within two steps had completely disappeared into the shadows.

Left on her own, Anna struggled against the cold sense of loneliness that washed through her like a tidal wave.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

She was in big trouble.

And it had nothing to do with Morgana-freaking-le-Fay.

Cezar studied the abandoned warehouse with a suspicious gaze. It didn’t look like the lair of a scholar. Hell, even the most fledgling vampires were able to enthrall mortals and acquire enough money to live in comfort.

Of course, this Jagr sounded like he took the solitary nature of vampires to the extreme.

Perhaps he preferred such an unwelcoming lair precisely because he wanted to be unwelcoming.

On the point of creeping forward, Cezar abruptly reached behind his back and pulled out his hidden daggers. In one smooth movement he turned to meet the vampire who slid from the shadows of a rusting dumpster.

The stranger was large, nearly as large as Styx, with pale skin, golden blond hair that he wore in a long braid down his back, and pale blue eyes that shimmered in the moonlight. It wasn’t his size, however, that made Cezar lift his brows. Or even the ancient robe that would attract precisely the sort of attention that most vampires tried to avoid.

It was the remote, distant expression on the starkly beautiful features.

Instinctively his fingers tightened on the dagger.

The vampire had the look of death.

Death he was willing to deal out without conscience or hesitation.

“You are Cezar?” he demanded, his voice a low rumble, as if he rarely used it.

“Si.” Cezar lifted a brow. “I’ll go out on a limb and assume you’re Jagr?”

The blond head dipped in a formal acknowledgment. “I am.”

“You have my thanks for allowing me to search your library.”

The blue eyes became downright frosty. “I do this because I am in debt to Viper.”

Ah, so that was it.

“You and nearly every other demon in Chicago,” he muttered dryly. “Al Capone was a lightweight in comparison to Viper.”

A hint of disdain touched the stark features. “It is not a monetary debt. Come.”

Charming.

Cezar grimaced as he followed the tall form into the shadows of the warehouse. It wasn’t unusual for vampires to resent allowing another demon into their lairs. They were territorial creatures. But the animosity that smoldered in the air was stirring his own natural instincts to assert his authority.

A dangerous combination that could lead to all sorts of bad things.

Reminding himself that Anna was depending on him, Cezar resisted the urge to ram his dagger in the center of that broad back. Instead he concentrated on avoiding the piles of rotting trash as he waited for Jagr to tug open a hidden trap door in the floor and reluctantly followed the vampire down the narrow steps into the damp tunnel beneath.

“You know, if you wanted atmosphere there are several lovely sweatshops to choose from,” he muttered.

Jagr never halted his swift pace. “I agreed to allow you to view my library, not to bandy lame jokes, Cezar.”

The dagger twitched in his hand. “Are you naturally this surly or is it something you work at?”

The blond head briefly turned. “I’m working at it now.”

Cezar’s steps faltered before he gave a short laugh. “Fair enough.”

He allowed the silence to go undisturbed as Jagr halted before a heavy steel door blocking the tunnel. Several moments passed before the door at last swung open and they were headed down another tunnel that ended in yet another door.

Cezar gave a silent shake of his head. Even for a vampire this Jagr took his security to an extreme.

There was another wait as Jagr dealt with the numerous locks and hexes, then as the second door swung open he stepped aside and waved Cezar into the room ahead of him.

On full guard, Cezar stepped over the threshold, ready for anything that might leap out of the dark. Jagr was obviously capable of any number of nasty surprises.

When there were no fangs sinking into his throat or claws ripping open his flesh, he slowly lowered his dagger. In that same moment, Jagr clicked the switch and the long, steel-lined room was flooded with light.

Cezar’s eyes widened, a flare of envy racing through him at the long rows of shelves that were filled with hundreds of leather-bound books.

“Dios.” He stepped forward, wishing that he had days, not hours to explore the shelves. Viper hadn’t been exaggerating when he said this Jagr was a historian. “This is astonishing.”

Indifferent to Cezar’s pleasure, the vampire swept past him and pointed toward a distant shelf.

“The books that I’ve collected on Morgana are there.”

“Do you have any that specifically deal with her retreat to Avalon?”

“A few, although most were written by fairies and are nothing more than the usual gibberish of poems and legends.” The blue eyes flashed with distaste. “They have little sense of history.”

“Great.”

On the point of moving forward, Cezar was brought to an abrupt halt as Jagr appeared directly before him, an unmistakable warning etched onto his pale features. “You may remain in this vault for as long as you need, but do not try to leave on your own. I will escort you out when you are done.”

Cezar narrowed his gaze, refusing to back away. “You don’t have the books hexed, do you?”