All About Levet

by Alexandra Ivy

  “He was the one who tried to kill Salvatore, right?”

  “Briggs was a fool who cared about nothing but his own pathetic glory. I had nothing to do with his demented plans.”

  Levet shrugged. Clearly not a subject that the Were wanted to discuss.

  Not surprising.

  Families . . . Could not live with them, could not turn them into toads.

  “Who was the woman?” Levet instead asked.

  “Gia.”

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “Exquisite.”

  “Is she your mate?”

  A heart-wrenching longing softened Damon’s grim expression. “If my life had been different.”

  “Oh.” Levet grimaced. Weres mated for life, which might explain the bitterness he sensed eating away at the soul of Damon. “I’m sorry. How did she die?”

  Damon’s brows snapped together. “She’s not dead, you idiot.”

  Levet made a sound of impatience. “If she’s your mate, and she’s not dead, then why do you speak of her as if she is beyond your reach?”

  “Because she is.”

  “Why?”

  “She . . .” With a sudden shake of his head, Damon appeared to recall that he wanted to murder Levet. His hand reached out to grab Levet by the horn, giving him a violent shake. “Get me out of here. Now.”

  “Eek!”

  Flailing to get free, Levet swung his arms, forgetting he was holding the wand until it smacked into the side of Damon’s leg.

  Instantly a fountain of sparks filled the air, a thick darkness abruptly rolling over them.

  Chapter 3

  Damon felt his feet hit a hard surface as the black mist began to fade. Their surroundings were still too fuzzy to make out, but Damon knew without a doubt they weren’t in the frozen snow outside St. Louis.

  God. Was this nightmare ever going to end?

  Or maybe it wasn’t a nightmare, a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind.

  Maybe he’d already battled the king and died. Now his punishment was to relive the worst moments of his life along with this annoying gargoyle who should have been drowned at birth.

  “Where have you taken us now?” he growled.

  “How should I know?” Levet muttered, holding up the slender stick that sent out sparks from the end. “This is a loaner wand.”

  Damon scowled, barely resisting the urge to snatch the stick out of the gargoyle’s hand and shove it up his ass.

  Only his natural aversion to handling magic made him hesitate.

  Instead he bared his elongated canines. “Then stop waving it around. I . . .” He forgot what he was going to say as the last of the mist cleared and he was able to have a good look around, stunned by the beauty of the luxurious villa that overlooked the Aegean Sea. “Shit.”

  The gargoyle cast a fearful glance around the vast marble room that opened to a veranda complete with an infinity pool. There were low sofas and cushy chairs in shades of pale aqua that perfectly matched the sea.

  It was a house that was as different from the cramped cabin in frozen Siberia as possible.

  “What is it?”

  “This is my lair,” Damon said, his voice thick with a furious disbelief.

  He didn’t know how or why the gargoyle was doing this to him, but he wanted it to end.

  Levet gave a low whistle, pointedly glancing toward the priceless Grecian statues that were tucked into shallow alcoves.

  “You have done well for yourself considering—”

  The creature’s words dwindled as the air prickled with the heat of Damon’s wolf. “Considering that my father was rumored to have sold his soul to a demon lord and my mother was a lunatic, crazed with her need to see me on the throne?”

  Levet widened his gray eyes at the bitter accusation. “Actually I was going to say ‘for a mangy hound.’”

  Damon hissed out a frustrated breath. “How have you survived this long?”

  “It’s a gift.”

  With a flick of his fairy wings, the gargoyle stepped toward the open French doors where the sunlight sparkled against the white marble, his gaze locked on the shoreline where the private beach met the sea.

  Damon abruptly frowned in suspicion. “I thought gargoyles turned to stone during the day?”

  Levet shrugged. “We are not truly here.” He turned back to meet Damon’s accusing gaze. “Is this still the past?”

  “How should I know?” Damon snapped.

  There was a shift in their surroundings, and suddenly Damon could see himself standing across the room, his expression rigid as he watched a slender, dark-haired female enter from a side door.

  “We are about to discover,” Levet murmured, suddenly back at Damon’s side.

  Damon already knew.

  He’d lived this precise moment one week ago.

  “No,” he rasped. “Get us out of here.”

  Ridiculously Damon tried to back away, hoping he could somehow escape the sudden tugging that he could feel deep inside him.

  Of course it was a wasted effort. He’d barely managed to take a step before his consciousness was yanked from his body and thrust into his body across the room.

  It was the same as before. The sense of disorientation before he was being sucked into the past, feeling agonizing regret as he watched the beautiful female halt directly in front of him.

  “Gia,” he breathed, his gaze compulsively taking in the toga-style sundress that clung lovingly to her slender body.

  Pain, so intense it should have been lethal, sliced through him as his gaze lifted to meet her dark, accusing gaze.

  Over the past years the two of them had remained close, but Damon had resisted the savage need to make her his mate. So long as his mother was alive he understood Gia would be in danger.

  Then, without warning, Damon had returned to the cabin and found his mother dead. She’d committed a Telos, the werewolf equivalent of suicide.

  He’d tried to go on with his life. To shake off the chains of his childhood and claim a future with the woman he loved.

  Unfortunately, that had proved to be an impossible task.

  “Damon,” Gia said, her lovely face set in lines of determination. “I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you.”

  Damon squashed the urge to reach out and touch her cheek. Over the past few months their arguments had grown increasingly bitter, until Gia had at last slammed out of the villa, swearing never to return.

  He’d needed her support more than ever, but she’d refused to try and understand the darkness driving him.

  “As I remember the last time we spoke you told me to go to hell,” he reminded her in grim tones.

  Her lips thinned with annoyance. “Because you refuse to listen to reason.”

  “Because I refuse to bow to your wishes,” he countered.

  “Not my wishes.” The power of her wolf glowed in her eyes. His own wolf rose up in response, straining to be released. His animal didn’t understand why he was hesitating in completing the mating. “Common sense,” she said between clenched teeth. “You know this is a suicide mission.”

  Damon felt a shaft of pain at her words. He so desperately wanted her to understand. To stand at his side.

  Of course, he didn’t let her see his regret. His pride demanded that he act as if nothing could hurt him.

  “Your belief in me is, as always, heartening,” he mocked.

  “Salvatore is the king, Damon,” she pressed, one of the few who refused to be intimidated even after he’d taken command of the pack and moved them from Siberia to Greece. “The true king.”

  Damon curled his lips. He was sick to fucking death of hearing the note of awe in the voices of Weres when they spoke of Salvatore.

  Perhaps the current King of Weres had defeated the demon lord and restored the traditional powers to the Weres, but he’d also offered a treaty to the d
amned vampires, not to mention dragging purebred Weres into a fight against the Dark Lord.

  Did no one else care that ancient traditions were being destroyed, one by one?

  “Only until a stronger heir defeats him,” Damon pointed out.

  Concern tightened Gia’s features. “And you’re certain you’re stronger?”

  He sucked in a harsh breath. “Another insult to my manhood.”

  With a sound of impatience, Gia stepped back. Instantly, Damon regretted the distance.

  When they were apart there was something vital missing from his world.

  “I don’t question your physical strength.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “I question your heart.”

  Abruptly Damon turned away from the too-knowing gaze. This female knew where he was most vulnerable.

  “Don’t.”

  Of course she didn’t listen to his warning.

  Gia could be as stubborn as he was. An amazing feat.

  “You don’t want to be king,” she said, her gaze lowering to where the golden medallion shimmered against his silk shirt. “You’ve never wanted it.”

  He blocked out the truth of her words. “It’s my destiny.”

  “It’s the delusion of a woman who went mad from grief.”

  His hands clenched; his heart filled with regret.

  He still hadn’t recovered from his shock when he had entered the dank cabin after having traveled the countryside with Gia in their wolf forms. He’d been gone for days, and he had dreaded confronting his mother who was no doubt furious with his absence.

  But when he’d finally forced himself to step through the open doorway, there’d been no recriminations. No furious slaps across his face.

  Instead he’d found a pile of ash where his mother had called on the fires of Telos to destroy herself. Leaving him behind to bear the pain of her suicide.

  “A grief I caused.”

  He heard Gia heave a resigned sigh. “You didn’t cause her death, Damon.”

  “I did.” He turned to glare at Gia’s obstinate expression. “She willed herself to die because I wouldn’t give her what she needed.”

  Gia was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “Damon, you know she’d been sick since your father shunned her. It had nothing to do with you.”

  “I didn’t give her what she needed.”

  “And what about what you need?” she pleaded softly. “What I need?”

  “Gia—”

  “Stay,” she interrupted in an urgent voice. “Be my mate.”

  A wrenching sorrow settled in his heart. “I can’t.”

  Frustration flared through her dark eyes. “Why?”

  Damon grimaced, shoving his fingers through his hair. “She haunts me,” he admitted in harsh tones. His dreams had been tormented since his mother’s death. “She won’t rest until I’ve done my duty.”

  Gia studied him for a long time, then without warning her shoulders slumped and her eyes lost the sparkle that had always warmed his soul.

  “Then go.”

  He held out a hand, shoving aside his pride as he pleaded for her understanding. “I’ll be back for you.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t bother. Even if you succeed I won’t be your queen.”

  Icy fear trickled down Damon’s spine. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do.” Her chin tilted to a militant angle. “This is wrong. I won’t watch you follow in your father’s footsteps.”

  Damon flinched at the deliberate attack. Gia knew better than anyone how deeply he hated his father.

  To be compared to the bastard was the worst insult she could offer.

  “Haven’t you always condemned my mother for using emotional blackmail?” he said, his cold voice making her frown.

  “This isn’t blackmail.”

  “It’s an ultimatum,” he growled. “I do as you want or you’re finished with me.”

  She heaved a resigned sigh. “I suppose it is.” With a grimace, she turned and headed across the marble floor. “Go challenge Salvatore. Get yourself killed just because you’re too stubborn to work through your guilt. I’m done.”

  Levet watched the interplay between Damon and Gia with a growing sense of outrage.

  Mon Dieu. Had the Were lost his mind?

  The beautiful young female had done everything but get on her knees and plead for him to stay.

  What sort of man turned away such obvious devotion?

  Levet abruptly wrinkled his snout, recalling his own lack of female companionship.

  Obviously, he was no expert on relationships. And he was beginning to suspect that he never would be.

  Most gargoyles might choose consorts for political or financial means, but he would never be capable of such a cold-hearted, calculated joining. He adored women. All women. He would never use one for his own advantage.

  He was slowly beginning to accept that he was meant to fly free.

  Still, he had seen plenty of mated pairs. They were miserable when they were apart.

  Even the cold-blooded vamps were obsessively devoted to their mates.

  It was their only redeeming quality as far as Levet was concerned.

  “Well, that was . . .” He struggled for the perfect word as the dark mist began to form and the man next to him jerked back to life. “Pathetic. You do realize you are an idiot?”

  Damon sucked in a strained breath, his face hardening as he tried to clamp down his emotions.

  “You know nothing about my situation.”

  “I know that you just turned away a beautiful woman who was begging you to stay and simply be with her.”

  “Shut up, gargoyle.”

  Levet sniffed, his wings fluttering as the mist thickened. “Not many men can claim a true mate. You are just throwing yours away.”

  The Were was rigid, his hands clenching and unclenching as if battling the urge to reach for a weapon.

  Predictable. Weres were incapable of sharing a perfectly reasonable conversation.

  Levet could only assume that their hormones were unbalanced.

  “This is none of your business,” Damon growled.

  “Maybe not, but I know a broken heart when I see one.” Levet sent him a chiding frown. “She was devastated.”

  The muscle of Damon’s jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth until they nearly shattered. “I will return for her. She—”

  “Will forgive you?” Levet completed Damon’s sentence as his words faded away.

  Damon grimaced, the raw agony he was trying so hard to disguise flaring through the champagne eyes.

  “She has to,” he breathed.

  “Non,” Levet countered. “She does not.”

  The Were stubbornly refused to listen to reason. “She’s my mate.”

  Levet threw his hands in the air. “Then you should behave as a mate. Which means you should put her needs above your own.”

  The air prickled with the heat of Damon’s wolf. “They aren’t my needs.”

  Levet snorted. He’d allowed his own mother’s disapproval to torment him, although he’d hidden the pain behind a façade of indifference. It hadn’t been until he’d returned to Paris to confront the old bat that he’d at last put the ghosts of his childhood behind him.

  Or, at least, he thought he’d put them behind him until tonight....

  His tail twitched as he shoved aside the unpleasant doubts that had threatened to ruin his holidays. In this moment it was his duty as a temporary Christmas angel to make Damon see reason.

  Surely that’s what Sera intended him to do?

  “They might have started as your mother’s needs, but she is dead.” Levet refused to back down despite the wolf ’s furious glower. “If you continue this quest you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Damon cursed, his eyes glowing as his wolf struggled to take command. “Get us out of here.”

  Levet gave a click of his tongue. Really, how many times had
he told the stupid Were that he . . .

  His annoyed thought was interrupted as the mist abruptly thickened to a choking blanket of black. Then with a sickening jolt they were being hurtled through time and space, the speed making Levet’s tail stand on end.

  Chapter 4

  Salvatore was still snuggled with Harley on the bed when he was forced from the room by the arrival of Harley’s sisters, Regan, Cassie, and Darcy. Not that he truly resented their arrival. How could he when their presence brought such obvious joy to his mate?

  Of course, he didn’t for a minute believe that they had traveled to St. Louis alone.

  Slipping out the back to avoid the crowd of Weres who were still celebrating in his living room, Salvatore made his way toward the edge of the lake. Within minutes he was joined by a tall, Aztec warrior dressed in leather with a long braid hanging down his back.

  Styx was the current Anasso (King of Vampires), and mated to Darcy. No doubt, Regan’s mate, Jagr, as well as Cassie’s mate, Caine, were both prowling nearby.

  Still edgy, Salvatore forced a stiff smile to his lips.

  “I thought I smelled dead meat,” he drawled, never able to resist the opportunity to mock the vampire’s massive arrogance.

  Styx folded his arms over his broad chest, flashing his fangs as if the humongous sword strapped to his back wasn’t intimidating enough.

  The King of Vampires was a firm believer in overkill.

  Literally.

  “Better than wet mutt,” he countered.

  “Why are you skulking out here?” Salvatore’s gaze skimmed toward the nearby guards who were clearly unhappy to have a vampire so near the lair. The truce that had been established between Weres and vamps was still difficult for many to accept. They’d been enemies for too many centuries to instantly become allies. Besides, the two species were both too aggressive to ever be truly easy in each other’s company. “Trying to terrify my poor servants?”

  Styx shrugged. “I assumed you would be reluctant to allow guests too close to your new pups.”

  Salvatore nodded. He’d cut out his tongue before he’d admit it, but he appreciated Styx’s consideration.

  “It’s been . . . difficult,” he admitted, his gaze shifting to his home on top of the hill. He squashed a sigh at the sight of the numerous guests that he could see through the floor to ceiling windows.