Beware the Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Why?”

  “Because I never sought out the strongest or the most powerful vampires,” he explained.

  “Who did you want?”

  He allowed his fingers to trail over the curve of her bare shoulder as he considered his answer.

  “Vampires who were intelligent, as well as visionaries,” he finally said.

  “They could see into the future?” she asked. She’d heard of demons who were prophets although she’d never met one.

  “No, but they weren’t afraid of embracing change.”

  She nodded. She knew that the reason he’d joined with the Anasso was because Tarak understood that survival meant adapting. And she agreed.

  Eventually the mer-folk would be forced to consider how to embrace the rapidly evolving world. Right now they were protected by her father’s magic, but as the humans invaded the oceans, and the toxic pollutants threatened their precious water, they would have to make hard decisions.

  Something Riven would be incapable of accomplishing.

  She jerked her thoughts away from the future. She had quite enough to worry about right now, thank you very much.

  “So they had to be smart and visionary,” she murmured, returning her thoughts to the man at her side. When she was gazing into his dark eyes she wasn’t thinking about Riven, or the fact she was trapped in a prison, or even the hard stone beneath her. Yeah, it was sappy. But true. “Anything else?”

  “Loyalty.”

  “I suppose every leader hopes for that,” she agreed.

  His jaw hardened. “Not blind loyalty, but one of mutual respect,” he clarified. “That’s the only certain way to be sure your clansman will have your back when things get messy.”

  She studied him with a blatant curiosity. “I always thought vampires were…”

  He looked more amused than offended as her words trailed away.

  “Barbarians?” he suggested.

  She snorted. She didn’t miss the irony. He’d been a barbarian before becoming a vampire. It was after he’d been turned into a demon that he’d gained his quest for peace.

  “Yeah.”

  His fingers drifted down her arm, sending sparks of desire firing through her.

  “The vampires have a brutal past, but not all of us wanted our future to be bathed in blood.” A muscle tightened in his jaw. “A damned shame I wasn’t more careful with my own loyalty.”

  She lightly scraped her nails over his chest, anxious to distract him.

  “What other skills did you want in your clansman?” she asked.

  “Bravery.”

  She flinched as the word scraped against a raw nerve. “Ah.”

  His brows snapped together, a genuine annoyance hardening his features. “Waverly, stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You are not—and never have been—a coward.”

  She turned her head to gaze at the ceiling above them. Tarak didn’t understand. How could he? He’d been a human soldier, and then a vampire who’d faced deadly battles to become a clan chief. He’d never been trapped by the love of a father’s expectations. Or blackmailed by a bully.

  “You have to say that,” she muttered.

  “Why would I have to?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

  “Because I’m your mate.”

  “Ah.” His smile widened to reveal his fangs. “Which means I’m incapable of lying to you.”

  “Really?” She searched his face, not sure if he was teasing.

  “Concentrate on our bond.”

  Closing her eyes, she tentatively focused on the strange sensation of Tarak buried deep inside her. She’d known it was there from the moment the taste of his blood had hit her tongue. Just as she’d felt the sizzling heat of the tattoo forming on her inner arm. But it was all… overwhelming. Like standing in the center of a hurricane after years of swimming through calm seas.

  At first she couldn’t define more than the dazzling explosion of new, and wondrous feelings that swirled through her. But as she focused on the bond that pulsed between them, she realized she could sense his emotions. The adoration that seeped through him as he gazed down at her. The wonderment at their mating. And an underlying fury that they were lying on the cold stone of this prison.

  He was right. If he was lying to her, she would know.

  “That’s amazing,” she breathed, then her eyes widened as she realized the bond would work both ways. “And a little scary.”

  “So you know I’m telling the truth when I say you have more courage than most warriors I’ve ever known,” he said.

  She scowled. Clearly he hadn’t been listening when she said she’d given into Riven’s demands.

  “I’ve done nothing,” she insisted.

  His hand cupped her cheek as he lowered his head. Almost as if trying to force her to accept the truth of his words.

  “You remained in the castle,” he reminded her. “After Riven claimed the throne you could easily have fled.”

  “He held my sister hostage.”

  He looked unimpressed with her reasoning. “A coward would have walked away regardless of the fact that someone they loved was in danger,” he asserted. “That doesn’t even include the fact you walked into a prison with a rabid vampire.”

  Her fingers continued to stroke over the dragon tattoo. Very soon she intended to use her lips and tongue to explore every vibrant color of the clan chief marking. It fascinated her. “You weren’t rabid.”

  “I easily could have been. I was injured, frightened and trapped. The perfect ingredients to send me over the edge. I could have ripped out your throat the second you entered the prison.”

  His voice was stern, as if he was angered by her decision to risk entering the prison to feed him. Which was a little unfair. Would he have preferred another mermaid had offered her vein? She thrust away the horrifying thought. No one was feeding this male but her.

  Period. End. Of. Story.

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” was all she allowed herself to say.

  “So am I,” he assured her, obviously sensing her tangled emotions. “My point is that you entered with the full knowledge you might be severely injured, if not killed outright.”

  Put like that, it did make her seem like one of the champions she’d read about in her father’s library. Perhaps Stellara, a legendary mermaid who’d fought back an attack by an ambitious tribe of sirens who’d attempted to lure the mermen into a trap with their potent song.

  A flush stained her cheeks. “I had no choice.”

  “Of course you had a choice, but you risked your life to protect your sister, and the children.” His eyes darkened as his finger slid over the upper curve of her breast. She didn’t need their bond to know he was becoming distracted. “And your father’s legacy,” he added.

  Desire trickled through her. Amazing, considering that minutes ago she’d been sated to the point of exhaustion.

  “Just as you sacrificed your freedom to protect your people,” she said in soft tones, her hand skimming down the rippling muscles of his stomach.

  “Mm.” His fangs lengthened, shimmering with a lethal, pearly glow in the muted light that filled the prison. “We are both very heroic.”

  She sent him a wry glance. “I’m not sure it’s very heroic to be trapped in a prison.”

  His thumb found the tip of her nipple, stroking it to a hard peak.

  “A temporary glitch.”

  Waverly hissed in pleasure. Her brain was threatening to shut down as a delicious heat spread through her body. “A glitch?”

  “A temporary glitch,” he corrected.

  He said it with such certainty that Waverly didn’t bother to protest. “And after we escape?”

  “We kill Riven.”

  A fierce need to watch Riven being shredded into bloody ribbo
ns blasted through Waverly. It was something that had been in her dreams for centuries. But she pressed her fingers across Tarak’s lips, holding his gaze.

  “First we have to find my sister,” she warned.

  He kissed the tips of her fingers before gently pulling them away from his mouth. “That won’t be necessary once Riven’s head is removed from his body.”

  She glared into his determined expression. As much as she might sympathize with his urgent desire to make Riven pay for what he’d done, there was no way she was going to risk her sister’s freedom.

  “No, Tarak,” she rasped. “If Riven dies, we’ll never find the entrance to her prison.”

  “You’re right.” His cheerful tone made her consider the pleasure of punching him in the nose. Mate or not, she wasn’t going to let him endanger Sabrina. Easily sensing her annoyance, he leaned down to brush a light kiss over her lips. “Because the prison will be gone,” he said against her mouth.

  She pressed her hands against his chest until he lifted his head. “How can you be so sure?” she demanded.

  He waved a hand toward the gray walls that surrounded them. “This place wasn’t created by the same magic that was used to build the castle.”

  She wanted to believe him, but… “I thought vampires couldn’t sense magic?”

  “I can’t,” he admitted. “This prison carries the stench of Riven.”

  So it had been Riven who’d created them. Relief raced through her. She’d hated the thought that her father might have been responsible.

  But that did nothing to ease her anxiety. “Which means that when he dies, the ability to open the prison will be lost forever.”

  His hand cupped her breast, his thumb continuing to tease at her nipple. “This isn’t the magic you use to project your image. Or even what your father used to create the castle,” he said, his gaze locked on her flushed cheeks. “This is created by human witches, and something else… maybe the ogress.” He paused to consider before giving a shake of his head. “But the fuel to keep the prison in place is provided by Riven’s life force. That’s why I can smell him.”

  “So his personal talent wasn’t being able to create places like my father,” she muttered. “It’s using his powers to manipulate other people’s magic.” A sudden flood of fury poured through her. “Dammit, I should have killed him centuries ago.”

  His arms abruptly wrapped around her, his hands running a soothing path down the curve of her spine.

  “Not much of a talent, if you ask me,” he assured her, obviously attempting to distract her from her bitter self-disgust. “It’s not nearly as cool as projecting your own image.”

  Waverly released a slow, shuddering breath. She’d be angry with herself later.

  For now…

  Her fingers explored downward, a smile curving her lips as she heard the low growl that rumbled in his throat.

  “Or making things float,” she said.

  There was a faint breeze before the air molded around her, almost like a blanket. Then, with amazing ease, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, still wrapped tightly in Tarak’s arms.

  “Like this?”

  Waverly’s lips parted in amazement. She’d experienced Tarak lifting her, but she’d never imagined he had the power to hold both of them in midair. And seemingly without effort.

  “I feel like I’m surrounded by water,” she breathed, looping her arms around his neck as she arched her body tight against him. “Floating on the current.”

  His hands skimmed down to cup her backside. “Soon you’ll be swimming free.”

  She trembled. Could Tarak sense how much she longed to be in her mermaid form as she soared through the vast ocean? Probably. The need was almost as intense as her desire for this male.

  Almost.

  “I like the sound of that,” she told him, her voice husky.

  “Me too.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, then stroked them down the length of her nose. “What else do you like?” he demanded. His fingers slid between her legs. “This?”

  A moan was jerked from deep inside her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Oh yeah.”

  “And this…”

  Together, they slowly began to spin in the air as he pressed his erection into the welcoming heat of her body.

  Magic.

  * * * *

  Inga was a few steps behind Levet when he pushed open the door at the end of the hall. Someone had to keep an eye out for guards. And the gargoyle was blithely indifferent to any danger that might be lurking just out of sight.

  Typical.

  But then she caught the delicate, fresh scent that suddenly filled the air.

  “Wait,” she commanded, scurrying to catch up with her companion.

  Levet turned his head to send her an impatient frown. “Now what?”

  “You can’t just go charging into the nursery,” she chided the small demon. “Mer-babies are very fragile.”

  Levet was instantly on alert. “Why?

  Inga blinked, trying to recall the rumors she’d heard over the years. None of them had been very specific. After all, the mer-folk had been hidden from the world for centuries. But the one thing she’d heard over and over was that there were very few children that survived. “I’m not sure. I think it has something to do with the magic.”

  Levet tiptoed into the room, his wings kept closely folded against his back. Like a child walking through a store filled with spun glass.

  “I feel it,” he murmured in hushed tones. “You are right. It is fragile.”

  “Yes.” She entered the nursery behind him, able to sense the magic that floated around the room. It was as soft as a spider’s web, brushing over the ornately carved cribs.

  “And it is fading.” Levet added, still speaking in a soft voice.

  Inga glanced around the room. Unlike the rest of the castle, the nursery looked as if it’d been carved out of the seabed. The floor was as hard as granite and the walls roughly chiseled from a dark stone. And every surface was coated with a thick layer of salt. On each side of the room were deep pools of ocean water with what looked like an egg in each one.

  It was as if the babies needed the most primal surroundings to thrive.

  But even as she cautiously stepped forward, she understood what Levet was talking about.

  The magic that splashed over her was…thin. Like the edge of a wave that barely tickled your toes.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, speaking more to herself than her companion. “Why would the mer-folk allow their magic to fade?”

  Levet tilted his head to the side, considering the question. “I believe it has something to do with the female we are seeking.”

  Inga warily glanced around. The female voice had led them to this place, but why? There was no one here, unless they were invisible.

  A thought that did nothing to ease her jangled nerves. “Do you think she’s draining the magic?” she asked.

  “Non.” Levet gave an emphatic shake of his head. “She is the magic.”

  Inga scrunched up her face. She hated mysteries. They always ended badly.

  Always.

  “Where is she?” she demanded.

  “I am not certain.” Levet sniffed the air, slowly crossing the floor as if drawn by some unseen force. “The magic is much stronger here,” he murmured.

  Inga tried to walk softly as she followed the gargoyle. Of course, she still sounded like a rhino on steroids. There was no way a female her size could prance around like a fairy.

  Or a mermaid.

  A flush stained her cheeks as the stone beneath her feet groaned in protest. It was bad enough her head nearly brushed the ceiling without turning the floor to dust. Then she was thankfully distracted by a shimmer of light that appeared on the wall.

  “There’s som
ething…” she breathed.

  Levet pressed against her leg. “What?”

  A tingle of pleasure raced through Inga. Males never touched her. Not unless it was in anger. Or to force her to obey their commands. Now it didn’t matter whether or not Levet was unaware of what he was doing. She felt a delicious warmth spread through her.

  With an effort, she forced herself to study the magic that was beginning to pulse and spread.

  “It feels like an opening,” she said.

  “Oui.” Levet took a step forward, pressing his hands against the chiseled stone. “I sense it. Bonjour,” he called out. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” a muffled voice echoed through the wall.

  Inga pressed her lips together. Until this moment, she’d been convinced they were being led into an ambush. Why else would the strange voice insist they come to the nursery? But now they were here, she was beginning to think she might have been wrong.

  Levet was right. The magic swirling through the room was coming from this precise spot. As if whoever was in charge of caring for the babies was trapped on the other side of the wall.

  So did she walk away and save herself, or…

  She heaved a resigned sigh. Of course she was wasn’t going to walk away. Not if there was any chance the babies were in danger.

  Shoving the sleeves of her muumuu up her arms, she stepped forward.

  “Stand back,” she ordered, pressing her hands against the wall.

  Levet readily scuttled away, his wings stirring a soft breeze around Inga. Yet another thing she loved about the tiny demon.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “Try to connect our magic,” she told him, tapping into the power that bubbled deep inside her.

  The magic flowed through her body, as sweet and intoxicating as a siren’s song. Inga shivered. She rarely allowed herself the luxury of indulging in her mermaid side. Her life had been too violent, and brute strength was the only way she’d survived. Now she felt almost drunk with the heady power.

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the magic that was pulsing through the wall. She wasn’t sure what the hell she was doing, but she allowed herself to be guided by instinct. There were some things that had to come from the gut.