Of course he wasn’t fooled. Instead, he stepped forward and gently touched her face. She didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Trying to read her mind? Whatever it was, he wasn’t satisfied. At least, if his frown was any indication.
“I’m afraid I can’t help with your parents,” he reluctantly admitted.
She didn’t ask what he thought he could do. They’d died nearly a century ago. And in truth, she didn’t want to think about them. It gave her a strange, almost sickening dizziness when she tried to focus on the past.
It was easier to concentrate on the present.
“No, but I can assist in looking for your master,” she assured Chiron.
Her soft words promptly stirred his protective instincts. His hand dropped as he gave a sharp shake of his head.
“Lilah, I appreciate your offer, but I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger.”
She ignored his predictable attempt to give her an order. They would discuss that later. “What danger?”
“It’s obvious someone doesn’t want me to find my master.”
“Why not?”
He grimaced, as if he regretted his impulsive words. Then he took a step backward, clearly intending to leave. “I don’t know. Not yet.”
She grabbed his arm. “What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “Take a stroll around the estate. It’s a lovely night.”
She flattened her lips. Chiron had created an empire built on bright lights and excitement. He wasn’t the sort of male who enjoyed peaceful walks in the middle of nowhere. “Why?”
“There’s a chance I might find some clue to where my master is hidden,” he smoothly responded.
“I don’t believe you.”
His lips twitched. “You say that a lot.”
Actually, she never said it. Not until Chiron had arrived at her hotel.
“Because it’s true,” she said.
He pressed his hand to the center of his chest. “I assure you, all I intend to do is take a stroll.”
“You’re deliberately making yourself a target.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To try to lure out whoever shot that arrow.”
“If they’re stupid enough to try again, I’m prepared to teach them what happens when you threaten a vampire.”
She made a sound of annoyance. Males were all the same, no matter what the species.
“What if they don’t miss this time?”
Without warning, he stepped close enough for her to feel his icy power wrap around her. His hand lowered to cover hers, still gripping his arm.
“Does the thought trouble you?”
She shivered. There was no way she was going to admit that the mere idea of him being hurt was sending a flutter of panic through the pit of her stomach.
“Of course it troubles me.” She forced a stiff smile to her lips. “Having a guest murdered in my hotel isn’t going to be good for business.”
He wasn’t fooled. Not even for a nanosecond. He bent downward, allowing his lips to hover perilously close to her mouth.
“And that’s the only reason you’re concerned?”
Over the years, Lilah had learned how to avoid unwelcome sexual advances. It had been a necessary skill, considering most males were attracted to her superficial beauty. She didn’t take it as a compliment. Not one of those guests had been interested in her thoughts or feelings. She was just an added bonus to their vacation.
So why wasn’t she moving away? Her brain was sending out all kinds of alarms, but her feet refused to budge. Traitors.
“Why else would I be concerned?” she forced herself to demand.
“Maybe this.”
He lowered his head. Slowly enough that she had ample time to avoid his kiss. She didn’t avoid it. Hell, she went on her tiptoes to hurry up the contact of his lips. When they finally met, she gasped.
Fireworks were supposed to be a metaphor when people kissed. A mythical promise from the poets that never really happened.
But they were real. And they were going off in her head like the humans’ Fourth of July as their mouths connected and clung together. A groan lodged in her throat, her hands lifting to touch his chest. His skin was cool beneath the silk of his shirt, his muscles hard as steel. There was no heartbeat, but she had no doubt he was very much alive.
It was evident in the strength of his hands as they clutched her hips, and the intoxicating power that swirled around them. And the hardening bulge of his arousal.
They mutually pressed closer together as he used the tip of his tongue to part her lips, deepening the kiss.
Time had no meaning as Lilah became lost in the sensations that bombarded her body. Heat. Passion. Need. And a strange tenderness she didn’t understand.
Chiron’s hands ran a restless path up her body, as if he was equally stunned by the potent desire that sizzled between them. His lips moved to brush over her cheek and then traced her ear before he buried his face in the curve of her neck.
“Lilah,” he whispered. “I like the smell of you.”
A chuckle was wrenched from her throat. “Are you saying I smell?”
“Yes, and it’s intoxicating,” he growled, the tips of his fangs scraping against her skin to send a rash of excitement jolting through her. “Lush, warm female.” He pressed a kiss to her collarbone. “And something else.”
Warning bells clamored in her mind. “What?”
“I don’t know what it is and it’s driving me crazy,” he murmured, misunderstanding her question.
Fear managed to pierce through her haze of pleasure. With a sharp movement, she jerked out of his arms and stumbled backward.
Chiron wasn’t the first demon to sense her heritage was puzzling. She’d been asked a thousand times what sort of fey creature she was. And a thousand times she’d dodged the question.
It was something she didn’t discuss. Not with anyone.
“I have…” She was forced to stop and clear the lump from her throat.
“You have what?”
“Things to do,” she at last croaked, backing down the hallway.
“What things?” he demanded.
“You know. Things.” She licked her dry lips. “Try not to get shot.”
He watched her awkward retreat with a narrowed gaze. He had to know she was hiding something, but thankfully, he didn’t demand an explanation. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest and smiled with a wry resignation.
“I’ll do my best.”
Feeling flushed and frustrated and wishing a big hole would open up and swallow her, Lilah turned and dashed away.
Why not?
She’d already made an idiot of herself. Might as well reveal she was a coward as well.
Chapter 6
Levet could have gone to the swamp to hunt for his food. No doubt there were alligators and snakes and all sorts of nasty, slimy things. Instead, he’d snuck into the kitchen and gorged on the meat pies he found on a tray in the pantry. He might be a demon, but he had the taste of a true connoisseur.
Then, with his belly full, he’d decided it was time to go in search of the water sprites.
Reaching the edge of the gardens, he’d paused to sniff the air when a tiny breeze stirred his wings. He frowned, glancing around. There was no wind. At least none that was moving the branches of the nearby trees.
Which meant the air was coming from below.
Instantly intrigued, Levet stooped over and wiggled his way into a nearby hedge. There was an odd chill before the illusion of bushes disappeared to reveal the narrow opening in the ground.
Ah. That was where the breeze was coming from.
Sniffing the air, Levet considered his various options.
He could turn around and resume his journey to the sprites. That would probably be the wisest choice. The fey might be fickle and cunning, but they were rarely violent. Even if the males did resent Levet’s ability to charm the females.
Besides, what could b
e better than an evening sipping nectar while being entertained by a lovely sprite?
But when had Levet ever done the wisest thing?
Never.
The thoughts flitted through his brain as he moved forward and slipped into the hole. How could he leave without finding out what was in there? It would be like an itch he couldn’t scratch. A thirst he couldn’t quench.
Besides, the key might be hidden in the hole. He had to look.
Expecting to discover a small tunnel that an animal had burrowed, Levet was caught off guard when there was nothing below his feet but air.
“Arg!”
Plummeting downward at an alarming speed, Levet gave a desperate flap of his wings. A fall couldn’t kill him, but it could hurt like all Hades.
He managed to slow his speed enough that he landed without causing any damage. There was, however, a cloud of dust that made him sneeze, and his eyes watered.
Wrinkling his snout, he held his wings high enough to avoid touching the ground and glanced around. What was this place?
The cavern was large and shaped like an octagon. The ceiling was carved into a dome. The walls had several openings he assumed led to tunnels. And in the very center was a large stone that was flat on top.
It looked like a sacrificial altar.
A nasty ball of dread settled in the pit of Levet’s tummy as he moved forward. Why would a hotel have this hidden beneath it? Not that it looked like it’d been used recently. In fact, there was a thick layer of dust and cobwebs on top of the stone.
Forced to go on his tiptoes to see over the edge, Levet blew the dust away. He sneezed again, but he was able to see the runes that had been carved into the granite.
They looked fey with their flowing curves, but he couldn’t read them. Strange. He leaned forward and sniffed. Then sniffed again. Salt? Why would there be salt down here?
“You.”
Levet squeaked as he turned to confront the large female who was stepping out of a tunnel. Inga the ogress. How could he have failed to hear her approach? Her feet were as big as a barge.
She smirked at his startled reaction. Annoying female. Levet sniffed, tilting his chin to an arrogant angle.
“Oui. It is moi.” He spread his arms in a grand gesture. “You are welcome.”
Her smirk was replaced with a scowl as she stomped forward. “What are you doing here?”
“I am enjoying my vacation.”
“Down here?”
Levet shrugged. “I like dank, musty places. Although you might want to do something about the salty smell.” He wrinkled his snout. “It is very impotent.”
The female halted directly in front of him. “Potent, you idiotic creature, not impotent.”
Levet clicked his tongue. Why were people forever correcting him? It was quite irritating. “It is all the same.”
“No, it’s not,” she argued. “One means this.” She lifted her hand and stuck up her first finger. It was as thick as a tree branch. She allowed the finger to curl down to touch her palm. “And one means this.” She straightened her finger.
Oh. Levet gave a flap of his wings. “I assure you I am potent. Très potent.”
She shrugged, as if indifferent to the fact that she’d just insulted his manhood. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips, tightening her dress. Levet shuddered. It was hideous.
“This area is off-limits,” she snapped.
“You said the attics were off-limits.”
“They are.”
Levet made a sound of impatience. “I do not believe you have a full understanding of what it means to own a hotel,” he informed the ogress. “If you wish to lock your guests in their rooms, you should run a dungeon.”
“We have several.”
Levet blinked in confusion. “Guests?”
“Dungeons, you dolt.”
Levet’s tail twitched as his curiosity once again consumed him. First this hidden chamber with a sacrificial altar, and now dungeons. This place became more and more fascinating by the minute.
“Truly?”
“I can show you.” The ogress spread her lips to reveal her pointed teeth. Was that a smile? She gestured toward a tunnel across the chamber. “They’re down there.”
Levet wanted to see them. He really, really did. But while he might be impulsive, he wasn’t stupid. When someone offered to show you their dungeons, it usually ended up badly.
“Non. This is a trick,” he said.
“It’s no trick. I assure you there are dungeons.”
Levet shook his head, diverting his curiosity to the faint accent he could detect in the ogress’s words.
“Where are you from?” he abruptly demanded.
It was her turn to be caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
“Ogres are not native to this country. Most were brought here as slaves.”
The female sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flashing red. “I’m no slave.”
“But you were one.” Levet moved forward, reaching out to touch her hand. A small burst of power broke through the magic that hid the ugly markings that were branded into the skin of her inner wrist. “Ah.”
Inga hissed, jerking her hand from his touch. “Stop that,” she snarled.
Levet tilted back his head to study her face. There was anger flashing in her eyes that had gone completely red, but he didn’t miss the hint of vulnerability that she couldn’t hide.
His tender heart melted. No one deserved to be captured and branded and sold like an animal.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” he assured her. “I was once held in a slave pen. I was to be auctioned off, before I was rescued by a friend.”
She puffed out her chest, her face turning a dark purple that clashed with her dress. “I’m not a slave.”
Levet rolled his eyes. Touchy, touchy, touchy. Did she believe people would think less of her because she’d been branded?
“I am not judging you,” he assured her. “Most of my favorite demons have once been held captive.”
Her expression was defensive. “As if I care what you think.”
Levet moved closer, brushing his claws over her brand. “Tell me what happened.”
She thrust out her jaw, clearly intending to offer a belligerent comment. Then, without warning, she turned her head, blinking rapidly. Was she fighting back tears?
“My mother was captured by a horde of ogres,” she finally muttered. “She sold me to the slavers the day I was born.”
“Pauvre bébé.” Levet clicked his tongue. It should have been a shocking story. Unfortunately, it was one he had heard a hundred times. Demons could be cruel, even to their own offspring. “Who bought you?”
There was a long, painful pause. Levet sensed the ogress wanted to punch him. Or perhaps she was considering the pleasure of tossing him against the wall again. For some reason, demons tended to have extremely violent tendencies when he was around. It was baffling.
But his words had touched a wound that had been festering for a very long time. There came a point where you had to release the poison or be consumed by it.
“First I went to the trolls,” she harshly admitted.
Levet’s wings drooped. The trolls were vicious creatures who enjoyed inflicting pain. “Were you abused?”
“No more than any other slave.” Her words were clipped, warning that she wasn’t going to offer any details of the brutality she’d suffered. “While I was small they used me to squeeze through mine shafts to dig for rubies in Asia.”
Levet nodded. He detested trolls. Nasty vermin.
“And after you were no longer small?” he asked.
Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she tried to keep her emotions tightly leashed. At the same time, he caught her light scent. It was clean and sharp. Like wind blowing over the ocean. The female had fey blood running through her veins, he silently acknowledged. Levet sucked in a deeper breath, oddly captivated by the scent.
“They sold me to a goblin who used me as a part
of his crew. We traveled from Asia to pillage the gold from the Aztecs,” she said.
Well, that explained how she’d gotten to this side of the world. Goblins were like demon Vikings. They used slaves to row their heavy wooden boats from one country to another, pillaging and raping as they went.
“What happened to him?” Levet asked.
“He was killed.”
Levet felt a stab of satisfaction. Then he gave a sudden snap of his fingers. There was only one Aztec he knew who would have been capable of killing a full-grown goblin.
“I bet it was Styx,” Levet said, easily able to imagine the towering vampire striding through the jungles to rip off the head of an invader.
Inga frowned. “Who?”
“Never mind.” Levet gave a wave of his hand. “Was he your last master?”
There was the faintest pause before the female gave a nod of her head.
“Yes. Once he was dead I was free.”
Levet sniffed. The female was a skilled liar, but he was beginning to learn her tell. It was the twitch at the top of her pointy ear.
“Non. There was more to your story.”
Inga went rigid, clearly annoyed that she’d been lured into exposing her past.
“Enough.” She sliced her hand through the air, creating a whistling sound. “Leave this place.”
Levet pouted. He thought they’d made a connection. Hadn’t they both survived painful childhoods? And didn’t they both have to deal with the prejudices of others who did not always appreciate the beauty to be found in demons who were different?
Perhaps it was simply because she didn’t know that he had not always been the knight in shining armor who was adored by women around the world.
“Do you not wish to hear the story of my childhood?” he demanded. “It is quite fascinating.”
“No.” Leaning down, she reached out, as if to grab him by his wing. “Leave.”
“Hey.” Levet scrambled backward. His poor wing was still tender from the last time she’d abused him. “I will not be tossed around like a—”
His words were forgotten as he tripped over something poking out of the hard dirt floor.
“Oof.”
He landed on his derrière with a thump. Grimacing in pain, he reached beneath his injured backside to pull out the culprit that had caused him to fall. It was the size of his hand and hard as a rock, but there were ridges in the smooth material and a shimmer even in the darkness of the cave.
Darkness Returns Page 6
