Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(8)

He could crumble a building to rubble with the force of his anger.

But magic?

He shook his head in frustration.

“Can you break it?” he demanded.

“Do you mean to insult me?” the gargoyle huffed. “There is none greater in destroying magical illusions than moi.”

Roke made a sound of disgust even as he wrapped an arm around Sally’s shoulders and tugged her away from the bed.

“Stand back,” he warned.

Sally sent him a worried frown. “Why?”

“That gargoyle is a menace.”

“Hey,” Levet protested.

Roke pointed an impatient finger toward the box. “Just do your thing.”

With a sniff the gargoyle turned back to the box, his tail stirring the dust on the floor as he waved his hands dramatically in the air.

Roke clenched his teeth.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Levet was the only one around who could reveal the magic surrounding the box, Roke would have him tossed over the cliff.

Three weeks was longer than any rational man should have to endure with the aggravating pest.

There was another wave of his hands, then a faint pop as the illusion was destroyed.

“Voilà,” Levet murmured, turning around to offer a small bow.

Sally watched the gargoyle in silence, not quite certain what to think of the tiny creature.

He’d always been kind the few times their paths had crossed in Chicago. But he worked with the vampires.

Which meant she wasn’t prepared to fully trust him.

She sighed. What was she thinking?

She wasn’t prepared to trust anyone.

Period. End of story.

Still, when Levet moved aside to reveal the once-smooth box now covered with intricate markings, she couldn’t help but be impressed.

“How beautiful,” she murmured, moving forward to lean over the nightstand.

“Sally, wait,” Roke commanded.

Naturally she ignored him.

The man was way too fond of tossing out orders and expecting them to be obeyed.

Besides, the box belonged to her. It was her duty to discover the truth of its origins, no one else. Even if that meant putting herself in danger.

Whispering a soft spell, she studied the intricate carvings.

They were fascinating. Delicate swirls that were connected by various lines and dots that combined to make an exotic design that seemed to call to some part of her.

She frowned, disturbed by the sensation the markings were somehow familiar.

“They’re not magical,” she said.

“That doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous,” Roke snapped, clearly annoyed that she’d ignored his command.

She turned to send him a glare. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I’m not stupid.”

The silver eyes seemed to glow in the gloom of the room, holding a power that was almost hypnotic.

“No, you’re impulsive, unpredictable, and a magnet for disaster,” he countered.

Magnet for disaster?

Why the . . . ass.

“Forgive me. I’m only thirty years old,” she mocked. “You can’t expect me to be a stodgy bore like someone who’s been around four or five centuries.”

Levet chuckled. “Oh, snap.”

Roke sent the gargoyle a warning glare. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Non. Unless . . .” Levet tilted back his head, sniffing the air. “Is that shepherd’s pie I smell?”

“And sweet and sour pork, and spaghetti, oh, and apple pie,” Sally added. “I left them on the counter in the kitchen.”

“Ah. J’adore apple pie,” the gargoyle sighed, heading out of the room with a happy wiggle in his waddle.

Roke moved to stand beside her, the annoyance fading from his expression as he studied her with a piercing intensity.

She shifted uneasily, always more comfortable when they were sniping at each other.

They both understood the attraction that smoldered between them. And the danger that it could combust the second they lowered their guard.

The spark had ignited the minute he’d strolled into Styx’s dungeon.

And the mating had only intensified the hunger until it was almost unbearable.

Their squabbling was a necessary barrier.

“What?” she demanded as he continued to stare at her.

“I haven’t forgotten your impressive appetite.”

She blushed, remembering his shock when she’d eaten enough food to feed a football team during her incarceration. Her magic, both human and demon, burned through calories at an accelerated rate.

“I’m a growing girl.”

He shook his head, his brows drawing together as his gaze took a slow inventory of her slender body.

“No, you’re not,” he denied in gruff tones, his hands lifting to cup her face. “In fact, you’re shrinking.”

She shivered beneath his gentle touch, her hands reaching to grasp his wrists.

“Roke.”

“And you have shadows beneath your eyes.” He ignored her protest, his thumb brushing the purple bruises that marred her pale skin. “Why haven’t you taken better care of yourself?”

She shivered, the cool brush of his fingers sending tiny jolts of pleasure through her.