Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(82)

“There you are.” Without warning the stranger performed a deep bow. “I have been waiting.”

She held up a warning hand. “Please, don’t come any closer.”

Straightening, the man took a deliberate step backward, although he ran an avid gaze over her slender form.

“Forgive me. I just wanted a glimpse.”

She resisted the urge to glance down and make sure she was fully covered. It had been less than a half hour ago that she’d dressed in the jeans and Chicago Bears sweatshirt she’d found in the closet of her bedroom. She’d even found a pair of comfortable running shoes.

She knew quite well she was adequately covered.

“A glimpse of what?” she demanded.

“You.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Are you kidding?” The emerald eyes widened. “You must know you’re like a goddess to my people.”

Sally shivered, wrapping defensive arms around her waist. This whole new gig as the daughter of a Chatri was making her feel terrifyingly exposed.

“Oh. I—” She licked her dry lips.

Perhaps sensing she was on the point of bolting, the creature held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Troy, the Prince of Imps,” he murmured, a hint of wicked sensuality sparkling in the emerald eyes. “And you are Sally.”

Troy? A portion of her unease faded. This was the imp that Levet had said could help them.

“Did Roke invite you?”

He rolled his eyes, clearly familiar with her mate.

“It wasn’t precisely an invitation. He was less than pleased when you didn’t arrive in Chicago with him,” he said dryly. “He hoped I could help locate you.”

Ah. She grimaced. She hadn’t actually considered Roke’s reaction when he’d arrived in Chicago only to find she was missing.

His response had no doubt been . . . epic.

The poor imp was lucky he was still in one piece.

“I can imagine.” She wrinkled her nose. “I should probably apologize for him. Roke can be—”

“Rude, bad tempered, impossibly arrogant?” Troy helpfully supplied.

She smiled with rueful humor. “All of the above.”

Troy waved a dismissive hand. “There’s no need for an apology. I’m accustomed to leeches. They’re all the same.” The emerald gaze swept over her pale face with an unnerving intensity. “And to be honest, I wouldn’t have missed this no matter how annoying my companions might be. It’s . . .” He sucked in a deep breath, his expression bemused. “Remarkable.”

Her unease returned. “What is?”

“Your power feels like lightning dancing over me. It’s intoxicating.” Troy closed his eyes, shivering with blatant pleasure. “I understand why my ancestors would have worshiped you.”

Crap. If she’d been any other woman she’d probably be delighted by the thought of being royalty or even a virtual goddess. Who didn’t want to be treated as if she were something special?

But she wasn’t any other woman.

She was Sally Grace.

The girl who’d survived by being invisible.

“Please don’t say stuff like that,” she muttered.

Genuine regret touched the imp’s lean, too-pretty features. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not used to . . .” She gave a helpless shrug. “Attention.”

Troy tilted his head to the side, the crimson braids brushing over his broad shoulders.

“Unfortunate considering you’re going to be attracting every fey in the area,” he murmured, glancing toward the high, arched windows that framed the double doors. “They’re already starting to surround the estate.”

“Hell.” She shivered, considering the very real possibility of returning to her room and barricading the door. Cowardly? Maybe. Okay. Definitely. She heaved a sigh. A damned shame it wasn’t a viable option. “I never wanted this.”

Troy offered a rueful smile. “You’ll eventually settle into your powers and they won’t be so loudly broadcasted. Until then the vampires will keep all but the most persistent away.”

She shook her head. “I can’t hide here waiting for my powers to settle.”

Troy blinked, seemingly surprised that she didn’t intend to cower behind Styx’s layers of security.

“You have someplace you need to be?”

She hesitated, remembering Sariel’s anger when he’d realized that the box he’d bound to her was no longer a secret. He clearly didn’t want people knowing that he was trapped.

Then, she gave a shrug.

What did it matter how many knew of his imprisonment if she couldn’t figure out how to rescue him?

And Troy, the Prince of Imps, could provide her with far more information than any book she might be able to find in Styx’s library.

Holding the emerald gaze, she confessed the truth.

“My father is being held captive. I need to help him.”

“Captive?” Shock rippled over the pale face before Troy was abruptly narrowing his emerald gaze. “Wait. Does Roke know about this?”

She tilted her chin, her deeply entrenched sense of independence instantly outraged by the question.