Heading toward the desk at the back, Javad waved the vampire guard out of his seat and tapped his fingers on a computer. One of the monitors mounted to the wall flickered, and the image of the outside street came into view.
Without warning, the air in the cramped space dropped to a temperature that would make Antarctica feel balmy, while pinpricks of ice dug into his flesh.
“Why didn’t someone warn me about the car?” Javad demanded, his soft voice more terrifying than any amount of screaming.
The guard was a massive male with thick, ropy muscles, but he looked like he was hoping the ground would open up and swallow him. “The owner didn’t come into the club,” he babbled. “We didn’t want to attract attention by moving it.”
Javad’s nostrils flared. “Like a car that cost more than any house in the neighborhood doesn’t attract attention?”
“I’ll—”
“Leave the room until I’m done,” Javad cut in, watching the guard scurry out the door. Once they were alone, Javad gave a click of his tongue. “Good help is so hard to find.”
The icy darts continued to press against him, but Ulric refused to rub the pain from his arms. There was no way in hell he was going to reveal that the vampire was hurting him.
Ah, the male ego was a gloriously absurd thing.
“Preaching to the choir,” he muttered.
Javad unclenched his fists, the ice in the air fading. Once again in control of his temper, he let his gaze return to the monitor.
“I did a sweep of the area less than half an hour ago,” he told Ulric. “So the car couldn’t have been there for long.”
Ulric nodded. “It was in front of Dreamscape half an hour ago.”
Javad reached to touch the keyboard in front of the computer. The image on the monitor skimmed backward until the moment the Jag appeared in the street.
“There,” Ulric said.
Javad reached to touch another key and the video moved forward. In silence they watched as Brigette climbed out of the car, strolling around the back of the vehicle.
Ulric leaned forward, absorbing the sight of his cousin. A ridiculous flare of relief washed through him. He hadn’t imagined the female. She was real. And she was, without a doubt, his cousin.
He watched as she paused on the broken sidewalk. She appeared tense. Was it fear? Impatience? Annoyance?
Impossible to determine.
His attention was distracted as the driver’s door was pushed open and a figure climbed out of the car. He hissed in frustration as he realized the creature was covered from head to toe in a heavy robe.
The thick material made it difficult to determine more than the fact that the form appeared to be shorter than Brigette. Meaningless. A large number of demons tended to be smaller than Weres. Fey, goblins, brownies…and of course, humans.
Brigette leaned toward the robed figure, as if listening to what the creature was saying. Then, even as Ulric waited for the two to head toward the Viper’s Nest, the robed figure lifted an arm and a portal suddenly appeared in the middle of the street.
A few seconds later the two had disappeared.
“Shit,” Ulric muttered, charging toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Javad demanded.
“I want to check the car,” Ulric said, heading out of the office. “They might have left something inside.”
Leaving the club, Ulric slowed as he approached the Jag. He hadn’t forgotten Rainn’s accusations. He was going to make damned sure he didn’t rush into an unseen danger.
Sniffing the air, he tried to determine the species of the robed figure. It had to be fey to create a portal, but he couldn’t catch more than a dull, oddly burnt scent. Was the creature capable of altering his odor?
He shrugged, stepping close enough to the car to peer through the window. At first, he couldn’t see anything. The sleek interior was empty. But as he pulled open the passenger door, he caught a glimpse of a shimmering bead stuck to the floorboard. Reaching out, he searched under the seat. Nothing. He pushed his hand next to the console.
He felt a brush of something soft against his fingertips. Grabbing the satin material, he pulled it out to discover a black, beaded shawl.
He lifted it to his nose, easily catching Brigette’s scent. But there was something more beneath the female musk. A heather perfume laced with the hint of salt.
Home.
Ulric straightened, pulling out his phone to scroll through his contacts. When he found the one he wanted, he typed a quick text.
Henrick, get the jet ready.
Chapter 3
Rainn covertly made her way to the private airfield that was hidden in the depths of the desert. Chiron wasn’t the sort of vampire to endure the red tape that bogged down human airports, plus he’d had modifications made to his jet that would never be allowed by the FAA. The most obvious change was the fact that the main cabin was sun-proofed. There were no windows, the door could be sealed and locked from inside, and there was a hidden trap door in the floor that led to a compartment that was magically protected in case of a crash during the daylight.
The alterations hadn’t diminished the comfort of the cabin. The plush seats were wide and sturdy enough to sit a grown troll in comfort. There was also a wide-screen TV, a bar, and a fridge stocked with blood. At the very back was an opening to the private bedroom and attached bathroom, complete with a shower.
Now Rainn stood next to the bar, wrapped in her magic. She wasn’t precisely invisible, but she could bend the air around herself to reflect the surroundings. It had not only allowed her to leave Vegas unnoticed, but she’d managed to slip past the imps who served as the flight crew.
Her breath caught as she felt a small tingle of…not precisely fear. More unease. She didn’t need windows to sense that Ulric was climbing the steps to enter the jet. The male was a force of nature. As soon as he entered a room, he filled it with the raw power of his wolf.
It’d been almost overwhelming when Rainn had first started working at Dreamscape Resorts. Her people were creatures of mist and magic. When they were required to move through the world, they did so with the delicacy of a butterfly. It wasn’t until it became necessary to strike against evil that they recalled their warrior nature.
At least, that’s how they were now.
She’d heard stories that in the past they’d rampaged through the world with the callous brutality of an enraged orc. Fearless.
That thought allowed Rainn to stiffen her spine as Ulric entered the cabin and she felt the jet start to roll down the runway and then pick up speed before there was a blast from the engines and they were surging into the air.
This was her destiny.
Another tingle inched down her spine. More unease, she told herself, even as her gaze clung to the sight of the pureblooded Were.
He was a spectacular specimen as he strolled forward with the powerful grace of a predator. His sleek muscles were emphasized by the black T-shirt that was stretched over his massive chest and the jeans that clung to his long legs. In the muted light of the cabin his eyes smoldered with a pure golden fire, revealing the wolf that prowled just beneath the surface.
The sensations that were prickling down her spine suddenly had less to do with unease and a lot more to do with lust. She swallowed a sigh. Ulric was a gorgeous, obscenely sexy male. It would be weird if she didn’t feel a bit lusty. At least that’s what she told herself each time the damned Were strolled past her.
Consumed by her ridiculous thoughts, Rainn allowed herself to be momentarily distracted. A terrible mistake. Without warning, Ulric lunged forward. She gasped, unable to avoid the fingers that wrapped around her throat as she was thrust against the paneled wall. Her magic faltered, and Ulric’s eyes widened with confusion. Obviously he’d sensed he wasn’t alone in the jet, but he hadn’t realized who was there.
With a snarl he snatched his hand away, almost as if he’d been scalded.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he rasped.
Could she bluff? She gave a mental shrug. It was worth a shot. “I told you, I’m worried you’re going to do something stupid.”
“Try again.”
His rough tone rasped against her temper, but she knew she appeared completely calm. Her people could manage a Zen expression no matter what was happening. Even when being confronted by a furious Were.
With a tilt of her chin she allowed herself to inch closer to the truth.
“Okay. I think you’re going to do something stupid.” She held up a silencing hand as he released a low growl. “Plus, I sense this is a trap.”
He stilled, suddenly wary. “Sense what is a trap?”
“The female you’re chasing.”
His breath hissed between his clenched teeth. “When I left the casino, I was chasing the female through Vegas. How did you know I would need the jet?”
She shrugged. “What does it matter?”
“You were spying on me.”
She flattened her lips. “I was watching your back.”
“Spying.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
He glared at her, his eyes glowing with the power of his inner wolf. “Start answering my questions before I throw your very fine ass off this plane.”
The heat of his body surrounded her. It was as much a warning as the large fangs she could see as he pulled back his lips.
Rainn swallowed a sigh. Why couldn’t her destiny have included a dew fairy? Or even a human she could mentally manipulate? No, she had to have an aggravating, stubborn, savagely fascinating Were.
“Very well,” she grudgingly admitted. “I followed you.”
“Why?”
“I told you the truth. I’m trying to protect you.”
He scowled. “I’ve gone into dangerous situations before without needing you to hold my hand. Why now?”
The jet veered sharply, nearly sending Rainn to her knees. “Can we sit down?”
Ulric slammed his hands on his hips, hovering over her as if he was about to pounce. Was he trying to intimidate her? Maybe. Or more likely, he didn’t even realize what he was doing.
“Are you going to answer my questions?” he demanded.
She rolled her eyes. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Then let’s make ourselves comfortable.” She moved to perch on one of the cushioned seats. “It’s a long story.”
Ulric turned to grab a bottle of whiskey off the bar. “I think I’m going to need this,” he muttered, not bothering with a glass as he plopped in a chair across from her and took a deep drink. At last he waved a hand in her direction. “Tell me.”
Rainn tapped the tips of her fingers against the arm of her chair. She didn’t have a rule book for performing her duty. But there were certain traditions. And keeping secret her purpose for being in Vegas was one of them.
But she knew Ulric well enough to realize that he would make her task impossible unless she could convince him to trust her. Especially now that he believed his family had miraculously been returned from the dead.
“What do you know of my people?”
He frowned at her abrupt question. “You’re rare. Reclusive.” He gave a lift of one shoulder. “I’ve never encountered a zephyr sprite before you walked into the casino twenty years ago.”
A wistful smile touched Rainn’s lips. She missed her family. Every single day.
“Most of us remain our entire lives in our hidden lairs in the desert,” she admitted, not adding they often burrowed deep underground. Many never, ever ventured out of their tunnels. “Unlike other demons, we aren’t predators. We thrive in an atmosphere of peace and quiet.”
Ulric arched a brow. “So you chose to come to Vegas to work for a vampire?”
She held his gaze. “It wasn’t my decision.”
Her answer clearly caught him off guard. “Someone sent you?”
She licked her lips, a genuine fear whispering through her. “The Oracles,” she breathed.
“The Oracles?”
Ulric made a choked sound of shock. No wonder. The ultimate rulers of the demon world might remain shrouded in mystery, but no one doubted their immense power. In fact, most wise creatures avoided even speaking their name at all.
Like Beetlejuice.
“Once every century or so, a zephyr child is born with a mark.” She lifted her arm, tugging up the sleeve of her sweater. Then, leaning forward, she revealed the black mark on her inner wrist that was shaped like a small triangle with wavy lines in the center. “Like this.”
Ulric studied the symbol. “What is it?”
“At some point in our distant history, our king made a deal with the Oracles to help keep the zephyrs hidden from the world.” She didn’t reveal why they’d been forced into hiding. There were some secrets too awful to share. “But like all bargains that are made among demons, the Oracles demanded a price for their protection.”
Ulric glanced up. “You?”
“Yes.”
A swift, unexpected anger tightened his features. “You’re a slave?”
“No. It’s not like that.” Was he remembering his own brutal existence in the slave pits of the Anasso? Probably. She lightly touched his hand. “When we’re sent to the Oracles it’s with the understanding that we will be given a task that has to be completed.”
“What sort of task?”
“To battle against evil.” She flinched as she said the words. They always sounded so…corny.
She half expected Ulric to laugh. Instead he glared at her in disbelief. “Chiron isn’t evil.”
“Of course he isn’t,” she agreed, deliberately pausing. “But he’s not the reason I was sent to Vegas.”
Ulric looked confused. “Then who—” With a low roar, he jumped to his feet. “Me?”
She hid her smile at his outrage. She hated the shadows that darkened his eyes when he was recalling his brutal past. Now they were filled with a golden fire.
“Sit down,” she said, heaving a sigh as he continued to glare at her. “Please.”
He hesitated, obviously in no mood to concede to her request. But, perhaps recalling she could be almost as stubborn as he was, Ulric took another deep drink of whiskey before reluctantly settling back in his seat.
“Answer the question,” he snapped. “Am I the reason you were sent to Vegas?”
“Not exactly.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
The cabin was smothering hot as Ulric’s temper continued to seethe, but Rainn didn’t bother to use her powers to cool the air. As a zephyr sprite she had the ability to manipulate the elements. For now, her only interest was in easing his suspicions.
“Obviously, you’ve never had to deal with the Oracles,” she muttered.
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Pleasure. She grimaced, eyeing the half-empty bottle of whiskey. Just the memory of the Oracles made her want to drink.
“Not so much a pleasure as a lesson in terror,” she informed him.
A portion of his anger faded. “Did they hurt you?”
She shivered. Despite knowing since birth that she carried the Oracles’ mark, she’d still been petrified when she’d been yanked out of sleep to discover a strange creature standing in the middle of her bedroom. At first she’d assumed it was a young human girl. The stranger was short and slender with delicate features. But then she’d caught sight of the strange oblong eyes that were a solid black and shimmered with an ancient power. Oh, and the sharp, pointed teeth.
This was no human.
Rainn had parted her lips to scream when the creature had lifted a gnarled hand and the world had gone dar
k.
“No, I wasn’t hurt, but I was snatched from my bed and taken to a barren stone cell. I waited in the darkness for weeks before they at last called me to a huge cavern where the Oracles were seated behind a long table.” Rainn shivered, not ashamed to reveal how frightened she’d been. “The power contained in that room…” Another shiver. “It nearly crushed me.”
Ulric appeared properly horrified. “You met with all of them?”
“It wasn’t really a meeting.” Rainn had a vivid memory of being led by a shrouded form out of her cell and through a twisting maze of tunnels. The silence had been oppressive, grinding down on her like a physical weight. “I was brought and commanded to kneel. That’s when I felt them touch my mind.”
“They speak telepathically?”
Rainn considered her answer, relieved when the jet reached a smooth cruising speed. She wasn’t a big fan of heights.
“It’s hard to explain, but they implanted a vision,” she at last said.
Ulric studied her for a minute. Was he trying to decide whether to ask the question hovering on his lips?
Knowledge was not always bliss.
Curiosity, however, was a curse that was more powerful than common sense.
“A vision of what?” he demanded, the words seemingly wrenched from his lips.
“Of you.”
His jaw tightened, as if she’d just confirmed his worst fear.
“Me?”
“I could see you in Vegas,” she admitted. “You were walking through the doors of Dreamscape Resorts.”
He took another drink, nearly emptying the bottle. Not that he was drunk. A Were’s metabolism was in constant hyperdrive. He could drink Nevada dry without getting more than a mild buzz.
“That’s it?”
She slowly shook her head. “I could see a shadow behind you.”
The bottle dropped from his hand, his eyes narrowing. “Someone was following me?”
“It was more a warning,” she struggled to explain. “That’s why I came to Vegas. To stop the shadow.”
Conquer the Darkness Page 4
