Scorched by Darkness: Eternal Mates Series Book 18

by Felicity Heaton

  Hartt got that impression too as she squared up to him.

  “I need to speak with her,” he started.

  She jabbed a finger into his chest, hard enough he was sure his sternum cracked, using it to punctuate each hard word she hurled at him. “You. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Mac.”

  He went to seize her hand when she prodded him again, but she was gone in the blink of an eye. His senses blared a warning as he felt her behind him and he tried to move, but she was faster, grabbed him by his neck and dug her claws in.

  She hissed in his ear. “Men like you deserve to be put down. Bastard. Hurting my beautiful Mac like that. She tells me she dumped your sorry, two-timing ass.”

  “She did.” He hoped that would go some way towards calming the female.

  It only made things worse.

  She growled against his cheek, the pointed tip of her right horn jabbing into the back of his skull. “I would have killed you. In fact, I might just go ahead and do that right now.”

  Her right hand slid to the front of his throat and he swallowed hard as the tip of her horn pierced his skin close to the top of his spine.

  “Wait,” he blurted, a desperate attempt to buy himself some time so he could muster the strength to teleport. “She got it all wrong.”

  “My sweetie Mac doesn’t get things wrong,” she snarled and then huffed. “I suppose you think you can dig your way out of this. Darling, you’re only going to dig your own grave.”

  Hartt gritted his teeth and teleported, somehow managed to do it without moving the demoness with him. His boots hit black dirt and he breathed hard as he bent forwards, fighting to catch his breath as pain rushed like a wave of fire through him, sapping his strength.

  The demoness didn’t give him a chance to recover.

  Her hand clamped down on the top of his head, she dug her fingers into his hair and clutched it hard as she yanked him upright. She glared into his eyes as he grimaced, as he grabbed her arm with both of his hands and tried to wrestle free.

  “Never killed a tainted before. Think your prince will reward me with coin if I bring him your head?” She grinned at him, flashing her fangs.

  “Doubt it,” he gritted out as he twisted, as she pulled on his hair and he swore she was going to tear it all out. He sucked down a breath and pushed the words out. “Friends with the other prince. His brother.”

  The demoness pulled a face. “Fine. My reward will be the sheer joy of knowing you’re dead and can no longer hurt my bestie.”

  She raised her hand, pulling him up onto his tiptoes, and he tried to teleport, but nothing happened. He cursed himself. Teleporting so many times so close together had tapped him out.

  “Wait.” His eyes widened as she unsheathed a dagger and twirled it before fisting it and eyeing his throat. “Wait. I came to apologise to Mackenzie. I came to make her see she was wrong about me… about my feelings. I don’t want another female. I only want her.”

  His ears rang as he heard those words leaving his lips, as he felt the truth of them deep in his soul. He’d had so many doubts over the last few hours, enough to fill a lifetime, but now that he was staring death in the face, it was all so clear to him.

  He was in love with Mackenzie.

  Not because of some bond or an instinct he had no control over.

  He loved her. Soul deep loved her. Couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again. Couldn’t bear the thought of her believing he felt nothing for her, of her going through life thinking he could have possibly been in love with someone else.

  When he was crazy about her.

  “Say that again,” the demoness muttered with a hard edge to her expression, one that warned she would go ahead and decapitate him if he put even a single foot wrong.

  “I’m in love with Mackenzie.” And gods, he meant it, really felt it as those words tumbled from his lips.

  They hit him as hard as they apparently hit the demoness, left him reeling but felt so right at the same time. The demoness released him and he dropped to his heels, wasn’t sure what to say or whether he could say anything as he tried to process the feelings running through him.

  “You have a stupid look on your face.” The demoness twirled her dagger and shoved it back into the sheath that sat against her right hip. “Like a lost puppy. Guess I’ll believe you.”

  Which was a relief, although he could have done without her making fun of his stunned expression.

  He tensed when she was suddenly in his face.

  “You ever hurt her, I will end you.”

  He wasn’t sure whether he was meant to nod in response to that or shake his head, so he just stood there, staring at her as she eased back and frowned at him. She fluffed her hair again and this time toyed with her small horns.

  “Can I see her then?” Hartt glanced at the alley, itching with a need to get past the demoness and get to Mackenzie.

  The demoness hiked her shoulders. “I’d let you, but she’s not home.”

  He frowned at that. “Where is she?”

  Her red lips curled in a slow, vicious smile. “She went to form an alliance with the King of Death. I told her she’d be much better off with him.”

  Hartt growled and flashed fangs at her, tempted to call his blade to him and cut her down for letting his beautiful Mackenzie return to the vampire. Alone.

  Fire began a slow, steady burn in his veins as he thought about her near that handsome male, as he replayed all the times Grave had looked at her with admiration in his blue eyes. That burn became an inferno when he thought about the vampire protecting her from the witch.

  He was going to kill the bastard.

  Chapter 20

  It hadn’t taken Syn long to convince Mackenzie that this was the right course of action, although the demoness had also tried to convince her that revenge was a dish best served as cold-blooded murder. Mackenzie had done her best to make her friend back down, had forced a promise from her that she wouldn’t go after Hartt. He might have hurt her, but he didn’t deserve to die.

  Grave eased around the large oak wooden table, recapturing her attention. She shoved Hartt to the back of her mind and focused on the maps the vampire had unrolled, layers of them he had been sifting through when she had entered the library.

  “So, unlike the elf, you do want to work with me?” Grave glanced up at her, a brief leap of his pale blue eyes to her before they dropped back to the map.

  He shifted it aside and studied the one below it.

  She might have lied to Grave and told him that Hartt had confessed he didn’t want to join their team after all and had tried to convince her to team up to take him down and split the coin the witch had offered.

  “Of course.” She swept her long red hair over her shoulder and leaned forwards, inspecting the map he was studying now. She canted her head to her left and frowned as she tried to make out the realm it charted, and shrugged it off when she didn’t recognise it. There were many realms in Hell, and countless ones she hadn’t visited yet. She smiled when Grave flicked her another cautious glance. “It turned out I couldn’t get along with him after all. An assassin thing. He’s the enemy as far as I’m concerned and I just couldn’t get over that.”

  The corners of the vampire’s mouth slowly quirked into a half-smile. “It did not sound as if you were enemies the last time you were here.”

  Her cheeks heated, her blood catching fire as she realised he had heard her little sexscapade with Hartt. She shrugged that off too. “Call it a moment of weakness. I’m always horny when I resurrect and he just happened to be on hand.”

  She cringed internally, hating how that made her sound like some loose woman who couldn’t keep it in her pants when in reality she had gone so long without sex that she was surprised she remembered what went where.

  Grave chuckled, dropped his gaze to the map and shifted it aside. What was he looking for? She took in the room, noticing how many of the books he had pulled from the crammed shelves that made up the walls o
f the library. They were scattered across the wooden floor now. The shelves on the far side of the room to her left had been attacked too, the rolled-up parchments that had been contained in several of the diamond-shaped holes now littering the floor.

  Or stacked on the huge table.

  The vampire huffed and twisted a brass knob on the oil lamp that stood near the edge of that table. The room grew brighter, making it easier for her to see.

  “What are you looking for?” She peered at the map.

  This one she recognised. It was the dragon realm, complete with strongholds that had been marked with various symbols she didn’t understand. Just how much of Hell had the Preux Chevaliers charted? She glanced at the stacks of rolled-up parchment to her left again. If they were all maps, then the First Legion had been busy, must have visited and documented most of Hell.

  “I am looking for where the mansion was.” Grave didn’t look up from the map, just pushed it aside and huffed again as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and planted the other against the table to support his weight. He rubbed his eyes and grimaced as he straightened. He pressed his hands into the small of his back and arched his hips forwards, causing his black trousers to stretch tight across them. She dropped her gaze to the map to avoid getting an eyeful. He sighed. “It is not going well.”

  “How long have you been at this?” She scanned the room again, this time noticing the small stack of discarded metal containers on a side table near the tall sash windows. One of them had fallen onto the black velvet armchair beside it.

  “Since you left with the elf.” Grave rolled his shoulders, causing the black material of his shirt to stretch tight across his chest, and twisted his head left and then right. A contented sigh escaped his lips and he sagged forwards, slapped his left hand down on the map and pushed it aside.

  She recognised the one beneath it too.

  Mackenzie leaned over the map, frowning at the rivers marked on it and the mountains, scanning it until something clicked. She pressed her index finger to a valley.

  “It was there.” She lifted her gaze to the vampire.

  He looked up at her and then at where her finger touched the map. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “But I’m not sure what you expect to find. I levelled the place and I doubt it’s been rebuilt. The coven would be in the firing line of retaliation from my kind if they built there, where some of us know where they are. I warned a few phoenixes about that place.”

  Grave’s features pinched, his lips flattening as he glared at the map. His tone was thick with irritation as he muttered, “You are probably right… but I needed to do something.”

  She could understand that. They had left him for hours and he had wanted to fill the time, to do something he perceived as useful rather than standing around waiting for their return.

  “We could check it out though,” she offered, part of her wanting to make him feel he hadn’t wasted his time.

  The rest of her wanted nothing to do with that place, was happy staying far away from it and never seeing it again.

  Grave was right though. If there was a chance the witch might return there, or there might be evidence of other places where his coven lived in the rubble of the mansion, then they needed to go there.

  A vicious roar sounded outside and the wall behind Grave shook as something hit it, the glass panes of the window rattling with the impact. A muffled grunt was followed by a bellow of terror, and she grimaced as she realised it had been a someone, not a something that had hit the wall.

  Two storeys above the ground.

  “What the Devil?” Grave growled and twisted towards the window, scowled when he reached it and looked down into the courtyard below. “The beast. He dares attack my men to reach me?”

  Oh gods.

  Mackenzie’s eyes widened as she sensed it.

  Sensed him.

  Hartt was here.

  She hurried to the window, gaped as she stared down into the courtyard and watched Hartt tearing his way through the vampires that swarmed it in an attempt to protect their leader. Only they didn’t need to protect Grave. Hartt wasn’t here for him. She was sure of it.

  He was here for her.

  Her heart drummed at a sickening pace as he lifted his head and their gazes collided. She couldn’t tell from this distance, but she felt certain there would be black in his violet irises, evidence of the darkness that corrupted him. Darkness he looked as if he wanted to unleash on her as he frowned and his eyes narrowed.

  She gasped as he disappeared, leaving only a faint shimmering outline of him where he had been.

  Pivoted on her heel as she sensed him behind her.

  He casually discarded the vampire he had teleported with him, tossing him aside as if he was trash.

  Grave arched an eyebrow at him and then flexed his fingers, curling them into fists as his eyes bled to crimson. He was gearing up for a fight, and her gut said it would be brutal, a savage punishment for daring to invade his home and hurt his men. And sure, maybe she was to blame for part of that murderous look that sharpened his scarlet gaze.

  “I might have fibbed a little about him wanting to kill you.” She rushed the words out, felt it when Grave glared at her. She scowled at him. “I was pissed off with him. I still am pissed off with him.”

  “You’re coming with me,” Hartt growled and when she didn’t move, he stalked towards her, all glowering darkness.

  She gathered her wits and moved before he could reach her, placing the vampire between them as she backed away. “Leave. I told you, I don’t want to see you again.”

  He flashed fangs at her on a snarl, and she had been right, there was black in his irises, far more than she had seen in them before. “I’m not leaving without you.”

  The possessive and commanding edge to his deep voice had her hackles rising despite the heat that crackled inside her, seeped into her veins to set them aflame. An electric thrill ran through her as Grave stepped into his path and Hartt turned a vicious growl on him, looked ready to murder him for blocking his way to her.

  Stopping him from taking hold of her and no doubt whisking her away from the vampire.

  She tamped down the thrill, denied the heat that continued to flood her, and clung to the other feeling his fierce demand had ignited in her.

  “And I’m not interested in being pushed into another cage,” she snapped, the heat of arousal becoming the fire of rage as he didn’t even flinch, didn’t deny that he wanted to do just that. “I like my freedom.”

  “I could make him leave,” Grave drawled, a hint of amusement in his tone.

  Hartt launched at him on a roar, barrelled into his chest and fisted his black shirt, twisting it around his hand as he dragged Grave towards him. “I’ll kill you if you try, vampire.”

  Rather than fighting Hartt or attempting to break free, Grave merely smiled.

  A slow, sly one.

  “You act like a male who has lost more than his work partner.” Grave’s words seemed to shake Hartt, had him loosening his hold and looking shocked for a moment before his face darkened again and he bared fangs.

  “Do not say it,” Hartt growled.

  Mackenzie hadn’t been interested in what Grave suspected, but now she really wanted to know. “I’m going to have to insist that he does.”

  Grave slid her a look. “It seems the elf is more than your competition, your enemy and your would-be ally.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” She wasn’t in the mood for riddles. She looked to Hartt but he refused to meet her gaze, kept his near-black eyes locked on the vampire.

  His onyx eyebrows knitted hard and his jaw clenched. “Do not say it.”

  Grave ignored him, his smile growing even more sly and wicked, if that was possible.

  “The elf is your fated one.”

  Those words fell on her like bombs, each one rocking her, shaking her a little more. She stood shell-shocked, her mind going blank and ears ringing as she stared at
Hartt, as she looked at him for a denial or an explanation.

  He diligently kept his eyes away from her.

  Was he her fated one? Was she his ki’ara?

  Did it change anything if the vampire was telling the truth?

  No, it didn’t. Hartt clearly still had feelings for Iolanthe, and Mackenzie wasn’t about to sign up for being his mate anyway.

  “I’m not interested in becoming someone’s mate just because destiny says we belong together. My heart isn’t a slave to fate, and I won’t be a slave to any male. I’m definitely not about to go gaga over a man who’s in love with someone else.”

  Hartt finally looked at her, shock shining in his clear violet eyes as he stared at her.

  Mackenzie tried to convince herself to leave it at that, to draw the line between them and hope he took the hint and gave up. Her mouth had other ideas though, listened to her foolish heart and put the challenge out there before she could stop it.

  “The only male I’m interested in is one who can win my heart.”

  And he had already lost that fight.

  Her heart whispered.

  Or had he?

  Chapter 21

  Mackenzie’s words struck a chord in Hartt, one that rang loud enough that he vibrated with an awareness of her and the hope she had just given him. A second chance he wasn’t sure he deserved, but one he wouldn’t squander. Somehow, he would show her that they were the same.

  Like her, he didn’t want a mate just because fate had some plan and had picked someone out for him. He wanted to pick someone for himself, thought he had done just that, only he had been mistaken. Iolanthe wasn’t the one for him.

  Mackenzie was.

  He released the vampire. “Leave us alone for a minute.”

  Grave arched an eyebrow at him and straightened his shirt. “It’s my home. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The male looked at Mackenzie, his pale blue eyes filled with concern that flooded Hartt with a need to growl at him, to snarl and snap fangs until he stopped looking at her as if he cared about her.