Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(92)

“I can’t.”

He scowled. “Can’t or won’t?”

She waved an impatient hand. “I’m not entirely sure how it works, but we’ll need my magic to lead us to my father. Even if I could get you into the portal without me, you would be wandering around blind.”

He didn’t like it, but Roke grudgingly accepted she was right.

“Dammit.”

She stepped toward the iridescent opening. “Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”

“If I thought that was a possibility, I’d tie you to the nearest tree,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a . . . man.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Absolutely.”

Taking a deep breath, Sally waited for Roke to place a hand on her shoulder before she took the final step through the mist and entered the portal.

Instantaneously she was surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors that swirled around her in a dizzying dance.

“Oh,” she breathed.

His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Can you see something?”

“Strands of beauty,” she said, sensing they were moving through the portal.

“Are you screwing with me?”

“The magic is filled with the most beautiful colors,” she said, trying to explain her fascination. This magic was different from her human spells, or even the magic used by the traditional fey. This was richer, fuller . . . lethally addictive. “It’s hypnotizing.”

He kept his voice low as he muttered his own opinion of magic, his jacket brushing her spine as he pressed close behind her.

Leaning back, Sally allowed herself to briefly enjoy the cool power that wrapped around her.

It felt so natural.

Even vital.

As if she’d become so accustomed to the sense of this vampire being nestled deep inside her that she instinctively depended on his unwavering strength.

It was a dangerous realization, but she wasn’t in the mood to worry about it.

Not when there was a good chance she wasn’t going to survive the night.

On that cheery thought Roke suddenly stiffened, a growl rumbling in his chest.

“I smell wine.”

She caught the scent a mere second after Roke. “Father,” she breathed, straightening to try to peer through the swirls of magic.

“There’s something else,” Roke muttered.

She was distracted from his warning as her father’s voice filled her head.

“Sally.”

Turning, she watched as the strands of magic parted to reveal Sariel lying on what looked like a dirt floor.

The air was squeezed from her lungs as her gaze took in the sight of his motionless form drenched in a sickly green glow. He was as beautiful as he’d been in the meadow with his golden hair spilling over the ground and his pale features so perfect they might have been carved in marble.

But as she studied his elegant form she detected the white robe was now a grimy gray and so frayed it barely covered him while his silver headband had become tarnished.

“There he is.” She hurried forward, only to run headfirst into an invisible wall. “Damn.” She rubbed her abused nose. “There’s a barrier.”

“At last,” her father purred inside her head. “Come to me, my daughter.”

She ignored Roke’s frown, speaking out loud. “I can’t get past the barrier.”

“Release your powers,” Sariel urged. “They will join with mine.”

Her powers?

She grimaced, not overly enthusiastic at the thought of releasing the torrent of uncontrollable magic when she didn’t have a clue what would happen.

She could potentially crush the portal and kill them all.

Or lose control and hurt Roke.

Still, what choice did she have?

With a slow nod she held her hand toward the barrier, allowing herself to concentrate on the magic that had so recently proven to be lethal.

“Sally, what are you doing?” Roke rasped, grasping her wrist as she began to glow with a golden light.

“Joining my powers with my father,” she murmured, her gaze remaining trained on her father.

Was there a hint of a glow around his unmoving body?

“Dammit. This could be a trap.”

She turned her head to meet his worried gaze, her expression pleading.

“I’m sorry, Roke, but I have to try.”

His lips parted, no doubt to continue the argument, but with a hiss of warning he was spinning to the side, his fangs fully exposed.

“Something’s coming.” He paused, using his senses to search what was nothing but darkness to him. “Brandel.”

Sally flinched, forced to remember the greasy spot that was all she’d left of the demon.

“He’s dead.”

“No loss,” a voice drawled as a large, bronzed male began to form from a black mist.

Sally’s eyes widened as the creature solidified.

Completely naked the stranger had the face of a Greek god with a halo of golden curls. His velvet brown eyes flickered to reveal slits of red that proved he was related to Brandel. Not that there seemed to be any love lost.

“The bastard had become too greedy for his own good,” the stranger murmured, smiling at Sally’s shock.