Darkness Returns

by Alexandra Ivy

  Inga blinked in confusion. “Other what?”

  “Guest,” Lilah clarified. “You said one is a vampire. I’m guessing the other one must be a different species?”

  Inga wrinkled her nose, which was perilously close to a snout. “It’s a gargoyle.”

  Lilah jerked, staring at the other female. “Are you joking?” she finally demanded.

  “I don’t joke.”

  Well, that was true enough. Inga had many fine qualities, but a sense of humor wasn’t one of them.

  Lilah glanced toward the vast building. It was large enough to house a hundred demons, but a full-grown gargoyle towered higher than her ceilings, with a ten-foot wingspan.

  “I would know if there was a gargoyle here.”

  “This one is all shrunken,” Inga said, holding her hand next to her knee. “Barely this tall, with big fairy wings.”

  A vampire and a shrunken gargoyle with fairy wings?

  Okay. Inga was right. They did seem sketchy.

  “Did they pay in advance?” she asked.

  “Cash.”

  “How long are they staying?”

  “They paid for two nights.”

  Lilah glanced toward the wing of the house that had been renovated for vampires. The windows were shuttered and the fireplaces were bricked-over. The leeches were a little touchy about sunlight and open flames.

  “Did they say why they chose this hotel?”

  “Some nonsense about visiting family.”

  Lilah wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it’s possible. Vampires do create children, although not in the traditional way.”

  “I haven’t met a bloodsucker yet who gives a—” Inga snapped her thick fingers. “About their children.”

  That was true enough. Vampires rarely stuck around to see if their bite had turned a victim into a fellow vampire. Which was why most of them perished within a few hours of being created.

  “It seems doubtful the gargoyle would have family in the swamps,” Lilah added, chewing her bottom lip. As far as she knew, the Gargoyle Guild remained in Paris.

  “Which means they’re here for something nefarious.”

  “We don’t know that.” Lilah turned her attention back to her companion. “For now, they’re to be treated as welcomed guests.”

  The older female grunted. “For now.”

  Chapter 3

  Chiron had a clear understanding of why Styx had been so eager to dump Levet in Vegas. The gargoyle was rude, flighty, and he never, ever shut his ugly snout. Within less than an hour in his company, Chiron was considering the pleasure of chopping off his head.

  Sadly, things hadn’t gotten easier after their cross-country trip to this remote hotel. Standing in a suite that had cost a damned fortune, Chiron wondered for the hundredth time why he hadn’t allowed Ulric to eat the aggravating lump of granite when he’d asked.

  It was only the hope that Levet could perform the miracle of finding the key that was keeping Chiron from ripping the wings off the bane of his existence and flushing him down the toilet.

  Planting his hands on his hips, Chiron glared down at the gargoyle, who was headed toward a minibar that looked distinctly out of place with the antique furnishings.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Well what?” Levet opened the fridge and began pulling out the tiny bottles of alcohol.

  Chiron felt his fangs quiver. He wanted to bite something. Really, really hard.

  “You brought me here,” he snapped. “Where’s the key?”

  Levet drained the rum. Then the whiskey. He randomly chose another rum before he polished off the tequila. “It is close.”

  “Close? What’s that mean?”

  The gargoyle hiccupped, waving his hand in an airy gesture. “Nearby. Approximate. In the general vicinity.”

  Chiron crossed the Persian carpet in a blur of motion. The temperature dropped to just below freezing as he bent in front of Levet.

  “Don’t screw with me, gargoyle,” he warned.

  Levet jumped back. “Do not leap about like that,” he yelped; then, regaining command of his composure, the creature offered an offended sniff. “Vampires are very cranky creatures.”

  “We’re here to find the key, not for you to get lubricated on cheap liquor,” Chiron snapped.

  “Oh, it is not cheap. Did you see the prices on the fridge? This is going to cost you a fortune—” Levet’s words were choked off as Chiron wrapped his fingers around his throat and squeezed. “Arg. Okay.”

  “Where is the key?”

  “It is cloaked.”

  Chiron glared at Levet. Was the gargoyle being deliberately annoying to keep Chiron distracted? Possibly. Hard to believe any creature could be so naturally grating on a vampire’s nerves.

  “What does that mean?” he demanded.

  “I am not entirely certain.” Levet wrinkled his snout. “I can sense its presence, but it is impossible to pinpoint its exact location.”

  The vague answer did nothing to ease Chiron’s suspicions. “You managed to bring us to this place.”

  Levet shrugged. “I could sense it easily until we passed through the barrier. Now it is muted. It must be a trick of the spell.”

  “Or just a trick,” Chiron said, his fingers tightening on the gargoyle’s throat.

  Levet scowled. “I am not a grape to be squeezed. Release me.”

  Chiron ignored the command, instead concentrating on using his powers to read the mind of his companion. A physical connection usually made it easier, but with Levet, he could only catch fleeting glimpses. As if his brain was as capricious and unpredictable as Levet himself.

  “Ulric warned me this was a trap,” he accused. “You lured me to this secluded location—”

  “Do not be a drama princess.” With a quick movement, Levet jerked backward, escaping Chiron’s grip. “There is no trap. It could be that I need to become accustomed to the magic. It is…” He paused, lifting his arm to touch his bruised neck with his claws. “Odd.”

  Chiron didn’t bother to grab the gargoyle again. There was nowhere he could run that Chiron couldn’t catch him. “Odd?”

  “Unfamiliar.” Levet’s wings flapped, revealing his frustration. “It is almost fey, but not quite.”

  Chiron straightened. The gargoyle was genuinely puzzled. That much he could sense.

  Not that he fully trusted him.

  “I need results, not excuses,” he growled.

  Without warning, Levet gave a shooing motion with his hand. “Go play somewhere else. I cannot concentrate with you hovering over me,” he commanded.

  Chiron bared his fangs. One thing was certain: the gargoyle had balls of steel to think he could order around a vampire.

  “Fine.” He pointed a finger toward the ugly creature. “But if you fail me, gargoyle, it will be the last thing you do.”

  “Leeches,” Levet muttered as Chiron headed toward the door.

  Chiron ignored him. The need for a break from the gargoyle’s endless chatter far outweighed any urge to punish him for his impertinence.

  Stepping into the long corridor, he strolled past the half dozen closed doors. He could sense other guests, but as the annoying gargoyle had said, there was an odd sensation that everything was muffled.

  It had to be the spell wrapped around the entire estate.

  A shiver snaked down his spine.

  He hated magic. And he hated human magic most of all.

  With a grimace, he slowed his steps and forced himself to study his surroundings. If he couldn’t use his powers to determine the demons who were sharing the vast hotel, or more importantly, if there were any clues to lead him to the key, he had to use his other senses.

  Around him, a thick silence filled the air, broken only by the click of his expensive shoes on the marble. He felt a cold chill as he passed one of the doors. A vampire. Maybe more than one. The other rooms felt empty, but that didn’t mean whoever was staying there wasn’t somewhere else in the hotel.

&nb
sp; There was nothing else to be seen beyond the vibrant murals painted on the walls. The artwork depicted the same flowers and shrubbery he’d glimpsed in the gardens when they arrived. As if they were blooming inside.

  It looked like the work of the fey. They were the only demons who had the talent to create such delicate perfection.

  He headed down the wide stairs and crossed the lobby, which had wooden floors and paneling that was glossy enough to reflect the fairy lights that danced beneath a domed ceiling. There were large pots of plants set in the corners, and the faint scent of salt in the air.

  Odd.

  Witches used salt when they were casting their spells, but the smell should have faded long ago. Unless there was still a witch at the hotel using magic. He grimaced. He’d rather deal with a horde of trolls than one witch.

  Circling the room, he avoided the wide front door. When they’d arrived earlier, the door had chimed with a bell loud enough to wake the dead. He preferred to avoid a repeat performance. Besides, he wanted to inspect the outside of the building. If it had been created by the fey, there should be runes that identified the species. Hopefully, they were a local tribe so he could track them down and question them about any tunnels or secret rooms that were hidden behind illusions.

  There had to be a reason the witches would have chosen this spot to leave the key.

  He located a hallway that opened directly onto the back terrace and stepped into the night. He grimaced at the fuzzy sensation that wrapped around him and muted his powers. He was beginning to appreciate Levet’s annoyance with the spell shrouding the estate.

  Chiron paused, allowing his gaze to skim over the verdant landscape that spilled toward the nearby wetlands. Flowers, shrubs, fruit trees, and fireflies offered an explosion of color.

  He was addicted to the bright lights and bustle of city life. Was there anything more thrilling than Paris sparkling beneath a midnight sky? Or Vegas, with its shimmering parade of lights? But he had to admit there was something enticing about the serene peace that saturated the Everglades. He could understand why a demon would retreat to this place for an opportunity to forget the world for a few nights. Or weeks.

  But he wasn’t here for peace.

  He was here to find the key that would unlock the prison that held his master.

  Walking to the end of the terrace, he turned back to the building and laid his hand against the corner. He could feel the age that pulsed through the warm stones and see the faint runes that had been etched onto the surface. Still, he was puzzled as to who had actually created the structure.

  Was the mystery of the place connected to the key? Or just a strange coincidence?

  Lost in thought, it wasn’t until a soft voice floated through the air that he realized he was no longer alone.

  “Can I help you?”

  With a hiss, Chiron pivoted on his heel to confront the intruder. How the hell had he allowed someone to sneak up on him? Even with his senses suppressed by the magic, it was an inexcusable lapse.

  Prepared to rid himself of his unwelcome companion, Chiron’s anger faltered and died as soon as he caught sight of the tiny female.

  Bam. It felt like the time he’d been stupid enough to get into a fight with a feral troll. The creature had hit him so hard, he’d actually seen stars. The same stars he was seeing now.

  Chiron clenched his hands, his nose flaring as he tried to absorb the lush scent of her.

  She was stunningly beautiful. Her hair was a glorious tangle of curls that haloed around her oval face. Her eyes were green gilded with a golden shimmer smoldering with a sensual temptation. Her lips were plush and rosy in the moonlight, her skin the color of melted honey. Her soft, curvy body was revealed to perfection in the robe that clung to her with delicious results.

  A natural siren.

  His fangs lengthened, a powerful urge to taste her sweetness almost overwhelming.

  “Holy hell,” he said in low tones. “I didn’t know this hotel was blessed with angels.”

  Her eyes had widened, as if she was equally stunned by the impact of Chiron’s presence. Then, they abruptly narrowed as Chiron spoke.

  “That’s not the worst line I’ve ever heard, but it’s close,” she informed him.

  Chiron’s lips twitched. She was right. It’d been awful. Hard to believe most women found him utterly irresistible. But in his defense, he’d never experienced such an intense reaction. He didn’t know if it was natural or caused by the strange magic swirling through the air, but it was undeniable.

  “You caught me off guard,” he admitted, strolling toward the unknown female and offering an old-fashioned bow. In his mind, good manners never went out of style. Especially when they involved a beautiful woman. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Chiron. And I promise my lines are usually much better.” He straightened, his gaze taking another slow, lingering survey of her. “But you are breathtaking.”

  Clearly uneasy at his intense fascination, she took a deliberate step backward.

  “If you’re hungry, I have each vampire room stocked with blood in the minibar.” She waved a hand toward the pathway that led through the garden. “Or there’s a town just thirty miles east of here.”

  Chiron’s brows snapped together. He’d assumed she was another guest. Or even the angel he’d claimed her to be. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was a member of the staff.

  “You work here?”

  “Twenty-four/seven.” She shrugged. “I’m the owner.”

  “Owner.” The word was torn from his lips. It was worse than he thought.

  She blinked, as if sensing his violent surge of emotion. “Is there something wrong?”

  Yeah, there was something wrong. This hotel was somehow connected to the key. Which meant she must be connected to the witches.

  He moved closer. His powers were muted, but he hoped he could get a glimpse into her thoughts.

  “I assumed the ogress was in charge,” he forced himself to say.

  “Oh. Inga is my manager,” she said, her tone defensive. “And she’s only half ogre.”

  Chiron silently cursed. He was behaving as awkwardly as a drunken kobold. No wonder she was eyeing him with sudden suspicion.

  If she did know anything about Tarak, or the witches who’d created the spell to trap him, he was doing a damned fine job of ensuring she would never give him any clue to where the key was hidden.

  He smiled, careful to keep his fangs hidden. Some demons found them scary. Go figure. “You haven’t told me your name.”

  She hesitated. In the hands of a magic user, a name could be a powerful thing. Then she seemed to recall he was a vampire. His ability to hurt her didn’t have anything to do with magic.

  “Lilah,” she said.

  Lilah. The soft word hit his ear like a song. It was perfect for her.

  He swallowed another curse, forcing himself to look beyond her dazzling beauty. Not easy when his instincts were fiercely urging him to toss her over his shoulder and carry her to his lair.

  Grimly, he concentrated on the features that were lovely, but not as delicate as most fey. And the eyes that were such an unusual color. Why couldn’t he sense what species she was? It should be obvious by her scent and the aura that surrounded her.

  There was only one thing he could determine for certain: She was much younger than he’d originally assumed. Less than a century.

  She hadn’t been around when Tarak was taken or the spell created to hide the key.

  So did that ease his suspicions? Hmm. Not entirely. He needed more information. A lot more.

  “Owning such an impressive business is quite an accomplishment at your age.”

  She remained defensive. Not that she was indifferent to him. But mixed in with her stirrings of lust was a healthy dose of suspicion.

  The exact same emotions that were swirling through him.

  “I’m older than I look,” she muttered.

  He didn’t have to read minds to know she was lying. “Do
ubtful.”

  Perhaps realizing she was giving away more than she wanted, she took another step backward, clearly preparing to retreat.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  With blinding speed, he was moving to block her path. “Wait.”

  She came to an abrupt halt, startled by his sudden appearance in front of him.

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to know more about this place,” he said, sticking as close to the truth as possible. Until he figured out precisely what sort of demon she was, he couldn’t be sure whether she could detect lies.

  She looked skeptical. “Right.”

  “Truly.” He held up his hands, as if that could convince her of his sincerity. “I’m in the hotel business. I always enjoy learning from my competitors.”

  His words caught her off guard. “You’re in the hotel business?”

  “Dreamscape Spas and Resorts.” He reached into his back pocket to pull out one of the gold-edged cards he’d had printed for the numerous humans he dealt with on a nightly basis.

  She studied the card, a small measure of her tension easing. “I’ve heard of this place. I thought it was in Paris.”

  He was ridiculously pleased. As if her approval was somehow special.

  Chiron flattened his lips. Where the hell was the polished, sophisticated male who’d been eagerly welcomed into royal households? He’d been replaced by a strange creature Chiron barely recognized.

  Thank the gods Ulric wasn’t around. He’d never let Chiron live it down.

  “I have a couple dozen resorts spread around the world,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t bragging.

  She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you cater to humans?”

  “I might expand into the demon clientele.”

  Her mouth parted, her eyes flaring with an unexpected anger. “You’re here to steal my customers?”

  He chuckled, genuinely amused by her accusation. “There’s plenty to go around.”

  “So says the billionaire with hotels around the world.”

  He placed his hand in the center of his chest in a pledge of sincerity. “I have no interest in Florida, I swear. There are too many mosquitoes.”