Levet (Guardians of Eternity #9.5)(10)

Levet folded his arms over his chest. “The only thing I desire to have is my place restored among the Guild.”

Berthe made a choked sound, genuinely shocked by his demand.

“Don’t be an idiot. They would never accept you.”

“They will once you add my name to the Wall.”

The Wall of Memories was hidden beneath the sewers of Paris. Who had built it or why it was located in the sewers had been lost in the mists of time, but a gargoyle’s names magically appeared there when they were born, officially giving them their place in the Guild. The same magic wiped out their names when they died.

Or, like him, were stripped of their place within the Guild.

It was rare, but a doyenne or elder could return a name to the Wall.

“Never,” she rasped.

Levet squared his shoulders. “Oh, make no mistake. You will personally inscribe the letters.”

“You cannot compel me to write your name,” his mother blustered. “It must be done willingly.”

“I am aware of how it works.”

She pressed against the wall, her expression wary as Levet raised his hands.

“Then how do you intend to force me to return you to the Guild?”

Levet squashed the unworthy sense of pleasure at having power over his mother.

This was not supposed to be revenge.

It was justice.

“Allow me to show you,” he murmured, sending his memories of his battle with the Dark Lord directly into her brain.

Her claws dug into the floor, her skin fading to a sickly shade of ash.

“Sacrebleu.”

CHAPTER 5

Valla had finished washing the tea plates and was wiping down the counter when she noticed the elegant Waterford crystal dish was empty.

“Oh, damn,” she breathed just as a prickle of awareness feathered over her skin.

How was it possible that the icy brush of Elijah’s power could send a rush of searing heat through her?

It was like explaining how photons could be in two places at the same time. A mystery.

“Valla.” With a speed that continued to astonish her, Elijah was standing at her side, his presence a sexy, tangible force that wrapped around her. “What is it?”

She fiercely tried to control the leap of her heart and the quiver of excitement that clenched her stomach. A vampire could sense arousal at a hundred paces.

“Where is Levet?”

Elijah tilted back his head, allowing his senses to flow through the neighborhood.

“He’s gone.”

“And so is my amulet.”

A frown marred the strikingly beautiful face. “You lost it, or it was stolen?”

“Not stolen . . . borrowed,” she corrected. “Or at least that’s my guess.”

The vampire wasn’t impressed; his dark eyes filled with fury.

“If the gargoyle is a thief, I’ll track him down. I promise he won’t be returning.”

She swallowed a sigh. A part of her would always appreciate Elijah’s fierce desire to protect her. But she was tired of waiting for him to see her as a grown woman who was more than capable of taking care of herself.

She’d been doing it for a very long time.

“I want him to return.”

“Que?” the vampire demanded with obvious impatience. “He already stole your amulet—who knows what he might steal next?”

“I don’t care about the amulet.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m concerned about Levet’s reason for taking it.”

Elijah shrugged. “He could pawn it for a small fortune. Lesser demons often use thievery to support themselves.”

“Stop being such a snob,” she chided, absently twirling a golden curl around her finger. It was a habit she’d acquired when she was just a young girl, still innocently believing that she would find her Prince Charming and settle down to raise a dozen little blue-eyed nymphs. The habit was the only thing left of that silly, idealistic little girl. “Levet came to Paris for a purpose. I have a feeling that he hoped the amulet would assist him in his goal.”

He gently reached to tug the curl from her finger and smoothed it behind her ear.

“If you don’t care about the amulet being stolen, then why are you troubled?”

“I’m worried that Levet will be hurt,” she murmured, resisting the urge to stroke her cheek against his hand. Like a cat demanding to be petted. “When I found him near the tower he was being attacked by two large gargoyles who clearly didn’t like him.”

The temperature dropped until Valla would swear she could see her breath.

“Mère de dieu,” Elijah growled, his fingers cupping her chin in a grip that forced her to meet his dark glare. “You weren’t stupid enough to interfere, were you?”

Her muscles clenched, her eyes slowly narrowing. There might have even been a bit of steam escaping from her ears.

“Stupid?”

He missed the edge of danger in her voice. The clan chief might be a cunning, lethal predator who ruled most of France with a brutal force, but he was still a man.

Clueless.

“Valla, pure-blood gargoyles are not only one of the most dangerous demons to walk the earth, but they’re ruthless, amoral, and happy to slaughter the innocent.”

“I’m not a complete idiot, Elijah,” she said, pronouncing the words with a slow, deliberate enunciation. “I know that gargoyles are dangerous.”