Devoured by Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #7)(83)

“It makes no sense.” Sergei waved his hands in confusion. “Why would she travel to an empty cave in the frozen mountains of Siberia?”

“She must have discovered some information of the child,” Marika reasoned, glaring toward the mansion. It was infuriating that Laylah could use her powers to sneak away. “What if the bitch seeks to call the Dark Lord herself?” Turning her back on Sergei, she headed toward the nearest Sylvermyst. “We must go.”

The mage stumbled to catch up to her long strides. “Marika, wait.”

“We have no time to lose.”

“Have you considered the possibility this is a trap.”

Marika came to an abrupt halt, stabbing Sergei with a suspicious glare.

“Trap?”

“How better to get you off the trail than to send you half a world away?” he said, clearly desperate to avoid an uncomfortable journey to northern Siberia.

She tapped her tongue on the point of one fang, considering his logic. She hadn’t lived so long by being impulsive.

Or stupid.

At last she continued her path to the copper-haired Sylvermyst she’d taken as her most recent lover. He was second to Ariyal, but far more … malleable.

Her steps faltered at the stinging memory of Ariyal’s rejection of her advances. He hadn’t even pretended that he found her anything but a means to an end.

Angrily she squashed the image.

The bastard was no doubt in his grave.

A pity considering he was by far the most powerful of the Sylvermyst and their undoubted leader, but hardly a disaster.

Marika was a master at turning any situation to her advantage.

“No, they couldn’t possibly have known that you had cast a spell to alert you to trespassers,” she said, her firm tone revealing she wasn’t going to argue the point.

Sergei swore, hurrying to catch up. “Then what if it’s a random demon who strayed into the cave?” he demanded. “By the time we realize our mistake the Jinn could leave this lair and be long gone.”

“Not with our newfound friends.” She halted directly before Tearloch, her fingers stroking down the smooth skin the color of rich cream. “We can search the cavern and return before Laylah could possibly escape.”

“We’re going to regret this,” Sergei muttered.

“Remain here if you wish, coward.” With a firm grip Marika led the impassive Tearloch deeper into the woods, away from any prying eyes. She didn’t intend to give Laylah the opportunity to realize that she was about to have surprise visitors. “I won’t allow anyone to steal the glory that should be mine.”

Leading her companion toward the small clearing, Marika ignored Sergei as he trailed behind them, tripping over the underbrush as he struggled through the dark.

“Marika, wait,” he urged as she linked her hand with the Sylvermyst and prepared to travel through his portal. “I thought I saw that idiotic gargoyle …”

At the end of her patience, Marika turned to grab him by the hair, yanking him close as a shimmering hole formed in front of them.

“Another word and I’ll rip out your tongue.”

Chapter 20

Tane didn’t have memories of his life before waking up as a vampire.

His body, however, had retained an instinctive love for the warm beaches and tropical scents of the South Pacific. Who wouldn’t prefer to swim in a moon-drenched ocean than huddle by a fire in a damp lair?

Which made the arrival at the frozen cavern in the Kamchatka Peninsula all the more unpleasant.

Gods. He thought nothing could be worse than traveling through the strange mists between worlds. Until Laylah had tugged his hand, and they’d landed on the narrow ledge of a mountain that overlooked …

A frozen wasteland.

That smelled of sulfur.

His nose wrinkled at the pungent aroma of distant geysers that warned of volcanic activity. It would be just his luck one of the damned things would blow while they were there.

At least he was impervious to the cold.

Unlike Laylah who had wrapped herself in a dark cloak that provided cover for the baby she held in her arms. She’d also pulled on fur-lined boots that protected her feet from the ice-covered ground.

Tane’s only concession was a T-shirt that was tight enough not to impede his movements and khaki pants that covered the daggers he had holstered at both ankles, one at his side, and another at his lower back. He’d also strapped the Sylvermyst sword to his back and had a handgun tucked in his pocket.

He hated to be underdressed when he came to a fight.

Of course, there was always the tiny hope that he could convince Laylah to return to Styx’s lair before they were attacked yet again.

His lips twisted.

Naw.

His luck wasn’t that good.

A blast of frigid air slammed into them, whipping at Laylah’s cloak and nearly tumbling her over the edge of the sharp cliff.

Cursing the godforsaken mountain, the cold, and the stubbornness of Jinn mongrels, he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her backward, careful not to disturb the bundle in her arms.

“Are you sure you didn’t take us into a hell dimension,” he accused directly into her ear.

Pulling free of his grasp, she turned with a wry smile. “It’s bleak, but there’s a harsh beauty if you look for it.”