When Darkness Ends (Guardians of Eternity #12)(41)

“Styx?”

“I’m here, amigo,” he reassured his friend, leaning forward so Cyn didn’t try to sit up.

Fear flashed in the jade eyes. “Fallon . . .”

“She’s fine.” Styx flicked his glance toward the hovering Chatri princess. “And very persistent.”

Cyn managed a weak smile. “Aye. She’s as stubborn as an Irish stoat.”

Styx heard the female make a startled sound of irritation, but his only concern was for the vampire who remained dangerously weak.

“You must feed. Fallon has agreed to offer her vein.”

Once again Styx was caught off guard as Cyn’s fingers dug into his arm. “No.”

What the hell? He allowed a growl to rumble deep in his chest.

“Don’t be an idiot. You need blood.”

Cyn grimaced. “Not Fallon’s.”

There was a low hiss before Fallon was headed toward the door, her body stiff with wounded dignity. Even if she’d been reluctant to offer her vein, it clearly pricked her pride that Cyn would refuse her gift.

“Obviously the clan chief considers my blood unworthy. I’ll return with his preferred vintage,” she muttered. “I hope it chokes him.”

Chapter Ten

Cyn grimaced as Fallon slammed the door behind her retreating form. He knew he’d offended her. Again. But on this occasion he wasn’t sorry.

Better have her pissed at him than suffering the potential fallout from him taking her vein.

Styx glared down at him, his hard expression saying he thought Cyn had lost his mind.

And he wasn’t wrong.

His life had gone from a peaceful existence of glorious hedonism to chaotic frustration.

From the second he’d seen Fallon, he’d been careening from one upheaval to another. But it wasn’t being a pawn for a powerful Oracle that had his nerves scraped raw.

That little achievement belonged solely to the Chatri princess.

So why hadn’t he followed the urgings of his logical mind that had warned him to avoid the female? As she’d pointed out more than once, his lair was big enough to make sure they could go weeks without running into each other.

Because you haven’t been able to resist the primitive need to seek her out, a voice in the back of his head whispered.

And every passing minute in her presence had only made matters worse.

He’d gone from fascinated to obsessed to desperate. Bloody hell, he needed to have her naked in his arms, his fangs buried deep in her throat as he felt her climaxing around his erection.

That was precisely why he’d slammed the door on any risk of making his compulsion a permanent part of his life.

“Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Styx demanded. “Her blood is—”

“Dangerous,” Cyn interrupted.

The Anasso blinked. “Because she’s a Chatri?”

“Because she’s a female I find far too tempting.”

“Ah.” Immediately understanding why Cyn was reluctant to exchange blood with a female who could be his potential mate, Styx’s expression altered from annoyance to curiosity. “Tell me what happened.”

Cyn planted his hands on the floor and forced himself to a seated position despite Styx’s protest. He was still weak, but he’d be damned if he remained lying on the floor like he was some invalid.

“Siljar isn’t going to be pleased if I share.”

“Too damned bad.” Styx’s tone revealed his current opinion of the Oracle. “I’m tired of her expecting vampires to clean up the Commission’s mistakes.”

Cyn hesitated, then with a small shrug he offered a condensed version of what had happened since arriving back at his lair.

By the time he finished, Styx had surged to his feet and was pacing the room with a growing restlessness.

“A spell to close dimensions?” the Anasso growled, the lights flickering as his power threatened to fry the electrical system that Cyn had spent a fortune to install. “That’s—”

“Crazy?” Cyn offered, his smile wry. “Welcome to my world.”

Styx continued to pace, his displeasure a tangible force in the air. “And also vaguely familiar,” he finally muttered.

“What do you mean?”

Styx came to an abrupt halt. “There’s something about this whole situation that gives me an itchy sense of déjà vu.”

Cyn felt a strange chill shoot down his spine. Styx was right. He couldn’t pinpoint why this felt so freakishly familiar, but suddenly he was certain that he’d either heard or read or been told of another spell that offered a similar annihilation.

“Aye. I know what you mean.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. The icy sense of premonition had settled like a heavy ball of dread in the pit of his stomach. “I need to return to the library. Maybe there’s something in the history of the fey that can help us.”

There was the crisp scent of champagne before Fallon shoved open the door and stepped inside. Her chin was still tilted to a militant angle as she crossed the room and dropped two bags of blood onto his lap.

“Here.”

He offered her a rueful smile. Hard to believe that he’d once considered himself an expert in pleasing a woman.

“Thanks.”