GOE 08 - Bound By Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  It had been Elwin who’d discovered the markings on the rock and had been able to sense that there had been a temporary opening through the barrier to another dimension.

  He’d also offered the services of his men to try and reach through the barrier to return Ariyal and Jaelyn.

  Not that they’d managed anything more than a shimmer in the air that led to precisely nowhere.

  Pacing the floor, Styx’s mood took a dip toward foul.

  He didn’t like feeling helpless.

  Especially when the entire world was hanging in the balance.

  At last he gestured toward the Sylvermyst with long amber hair and pewter eyes.

  “Elwin.”

  With a grimace of impatience the Sylvermyst rose to his feet and moved to stand in front of Styx.

  “Yes?”

  “How much longer?”

  “It’s impossible to say.” The fey gave a lift of his hands. “None of us have ever tried to use a portal to reach through dimensions.”

  Styx scowled. “Can it be done?”

  “We can only pray.”

  Pray? That wasn’t what Styx wanted to hear.

  He was a vampire who expected results, not vague promises.

  And he didn’t give a damn whether or not he was being fair.

  “Not good enough.”

  The Sylvermyst clenched his hands, his eyes flashing with fury.

  “No one wants to rescue our prince more than I do.”

  Styx folded his arms over his massive chest. It was a gesture that he had discovered could make many demons piss their pants on the spot.

  “You’ll forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe,” he drawled. “You did, after all, choose to betray him.”

  Clearly made of sterner stuff than most fairies, Elwin met Styx’s condemning stare with a grim expression.

  “We were fools to have been swayed by Tearloch’s promises, but I intend to devote the rest of my life to earning Ariyal’s forgiveness.”

  “Or to taking his place.”

  Elwin hissed at the low words. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Tell me, Elwin, who becomes prince if Ariyal doesn’t return?” Styx asked, his gaze shifting to the Sylvermysts who remained kneeling beside the stone, their hands held toward the shimmer in the air as they chanted in low tones.

  Elwin’s anger tinted the air with a warm scent of herbs, but it was no match for the brutal chill of Styx’s power.

  “You son of a bitch,” the Sylvermyst muttered.

  A low chuckle announced the arrival of Salvatore, who managed to look GQ ready in his black Armani suit and pale blue shirt with a yellow silk tie.

  Styx shook his head.

  How did the damned dog manage to remain pristine when climbing through the rubble? There wasn’t so much as a speck of dirt on the handmade Italian leather shoes.

  It was ... unnatural.

  “Trouble in paradise?” the dog mocked.

  Styx shrugged, biting back his sarcastic comment.

  Behind Salvatore’s taunting smile was a haunting memory of his near-death experience in the caves. He understood the toll it was taking on the Were to help in the search for the child, and of course, Jaelyn.

  And while he might never admit his gratitude (it just wasn’t done between natural enemies) it wouldn’t be forgotten.

  Instead he nodded toward the glowering Elwin.

  “Just trying to make certain that the Sylvermysts are giving a hundred percent to the effort to reach Jaelyn.”

  “Vampires,” Elwin cursed.

  Salvatore raised his hands. “Hey, you have my full sympathy.”

  The fey pointed a finger in Styx’s face. “Don’t interrupt our efforts again.”

  With his warning delivered, Elwin turned on his heel and returned to kneel next to his brothers, completely indifferent to the fact that Styx could rip off his head with one hand.

  “I miss the days when I could just kill those people who pissed me off,” Styx snarled.

  “Being king is a bitch, isn’t it?”

  Never had truer words been spoken.

  “What about you?” Styx turned his attention from the fey. Even if they were doing everything possible it was obvious their efforts weren’t going to pay off anytime soon. He needed a plan B. “Any luck?”

  “None.” The Were grimaced, his hand smoothing over the dark hair that was pulled into a tail at his nape. Styx hid a wry smile at the dog’s vanity. “I spoke with the local coven and they denied knowing any spell that could open the barrier between dimensions.”

  “I don’t believe it,” he said bluntly. “The wizard obviously used magic to take the child through.”

  Salvatore shrugged. “The wizard practiced dark magic.”

  “Then we need a magic-user who practices the dark arts.”

  “Easier said than done,” the Were confessed. “They tend to remain hidden in the shadows.”

  Well, of course they did.

  “Dammit.”

  Salvatore regarded him with a questioning expression. “What about Laylah?”

  Styx arched a brow. “What about her?”

  “Jinn can travel between worlds.”

  “She’s a half Jinn,” he reminded his companion. “Which means she can only shadow walk.”

  “Shadow walk?”

  “She can enter the mists between dimensions.”

  Not surprisingly Salvatore appeared confused by his reluctance to call for the half Jinn. But while it had been one of his first thoughts after discovering that Jaelyn and the child were missing, he’d quickly dismissed it.

  “It would be a start,” Salvatore pointed out.

  “I can’t expose her to the Dark Lord,” he refused. “And more to the point, Tane would never allow her to take such a risk.”

  The Were snorted. “And she actually listens to her mate? He’s a lucky vampire.”

  “No, Laylah has a mind of her own, but she has devoted years to protecting her child from the Dark Lord.” He shook his head. “She can’t take the chance of being used to get to Maluhia.”

  Salvatore gave a grudging nod of agreement at the mention of the child that had once been wrapped in the same stasis spell with the missing baby. The twins had been created by the Dark Lord centuries ago and hidden in the mists, only to be found by Laylah.

  It was bad enough to have lost one child.

  They couldn’t risk the other.

  “Then I guess we have to hope the Sylvermysts can reach them.”

  Styx’s fangs ached with the need to sink them into Elwin’s throat, but he couldn’t deny the truth of Salvatore’s words.

  A rock and a hard place.

  Dammit.

  “Yes.”

  Resuming his pacing, Styx was futilely attempting to remind himself of the virtues of patience when he detected the familiar scent of his brother, along with a less familiar odor.

  Mage.

  With a new flare of hope, Styx turned to watch as Dante strolled into the cavern.

  The younger vampire’s resemblance to a pirate was emphasized by the dark hair that was left free to frame his lean, handsome face and the silver eyes that danced with humor. Oh, and the wiggling prisoner he had slung over his shoulder.

  Crossing the cavern, the vampire tossed the mage on the floor at Styx’s feet.

  “Dante, so good of you to join us,” he murmured.

  “And I come bearing gifts.”

  “So I see.”

  He lowered his gaze to watch Sergei struggle to a kneeling position.

  His lip curled. The mage looked distinctly worse for the wear with his silver hair tangled and his suit covered in a thick layer of dust.

  “The weasel was trying to hide beneath the rubble,” Dante revealed.

  “Typical,” Styx said, his voice thick with disgust. “A coward to the bitter end, eh, mage?”

  “I wasn’t hiding,” the man ridiculously protested. “I was knocked unconscious after my battle w
ith the wizard.”

  “Yeah right,” Dante scoffed.

  The mage sniffed, trying to gather the tattered remains of his pride.

  “You can believe what you want.”

  “I don’t give a shit why you were cowering beneath the rocks,” Styx snapped, glaring down at the lean face that had lost a considerable amount of its arrogance. “All I want to know is how long it will take you to open the barrier.”

  The mage blinked, as if Styx were speaking a foreign language.

  “I can’t.”

  Salvatore shifted to stand at his side. “He’s lying.”

  The mage lifted pleading hands. “No, I’m telling you that I don’t have the power.”

  With one smooth movement Styx was reaching down to wrap his fingers around Sergei’s throat and jerking him upright. Holding him so they were eye to eye, Styx ignored the mage’s feet that dangled off the ground and even his struggle to breathe.

  He wanted answers.

  And he wanted them now.

  “Everyone knows that you’ve been preparing to resurrect the Dark Lord for centuries,” he growled. “Obviously you have a spell that will reach through the barrier.”

  Grasping Styx’s wrist, Sergei turned an interesting shade of purple.

  “I’ll admit that I have prepared for the ceremony,” he gasped.

  “Then do it.”

  The pale eyes flared with annoyance. “First of all, I can’t just ‘do it.’”

  Styx gave him a violent shake. “Mage.”

  “Wait,” the man pleaded. “I need an altar and a sacrifice and ...”

  “You’re starting to piss me off,” Styx growled.

  “Trust me, you don’t want him pissed off, Sergei,” Salvatore informed the mage.

  Sergei didn’t seem to need the warning as he shivered in terror.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” he pleaded. “Such a massive spell takes a lot of time and effort to perform.”

  “Ah, he has performance anxiety,” Salvatore mocked.

  “It’s not that,” Sergei denied.

  Styx gave him another shake. Just because he liked seeing the mage flop around like a bobblehead doll.

  “Then what is it?” he demanded.

  Sergei grimaced, clearly reluctant to admit the truth. “I’m not really sure that it will work.”

  Styx’s fingers tightened in frustration. Did the mage think he was stupid?

  “Lying bastard.”

  “No,” Sergei squeaked. “Please, you must listen to me.”

  Styx allowed his grip to lessen enough that the idiot could explain.

  “Speak quickly.”

  “And as if your life depends on it,” Salvatore added, his eyes glowing with a dangerous golden light.

  The King of Weres was always a threat. But if he actually turned wolfy he would devour the mage in one bite.

  “When Marika approached me I was a hack mystic in the Russian Court,” Sergei admitted.

  Styx narrowed his gaze. He’d already gotten the background information on Sergei when he threatened Tane and Laylah.

  “This is quickly?”

  “She promised me eternal life and power beyond my deepest fantasy if I would join with her.” He licked his dusty lips. “All I had to do was discover a spell that would resurrect the Dark Lord.”

  “Marika wasn’t an easy mark,” Styx said. He hadn’t personally known the female vampire, but from all he’d heard she had been as cunning as she was ambitious. “She would never have taken your word that you could satisfy her needs.”

  “No, I swiftly found a spell that should work.” Sergei grimaced. “At least in theory.”

  Styx ground his teeth. He already knew he wasn’t going to like what the bastard had to say.

  “But?”

  “But I don’t know if I have the necessary power to complete it,” the mage confessed in a rush.

  Styx fleetingly considered the pleasure of simply throttling the worthless ass and leaving him for the worms. Then sanity thankfully returned and he leashed his more primitive urges.

  With enough force to make the mage grunt in pain, Styx returned him to his feet and released his hold on his neck.

  For now the mage was their best shot at opening a rift in the dimensions.

  God help them all.

  “We’re about to find out,” he informed the mage.

  Sergei shook his head, his fingers messaging his bruised neck.

  “I told you, even if I wanted to do the ceremony I need an altar, as well as a sacrifice, not to mention days to prepare myself,” he complained. “It’s a very complicated and dangerous spell.”

  Styx gestured toward the silent vampire standing behind the mage.

  “Dante?”

  Dante grinned. “With pleasure.”

  Sergei scowled as he watched the younger vampire move to lift the massive slab of rock from the center of the cavern and shift it directly before him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Here’s your altar,” Dante said with an evil smile.

  “I can’t use that.”

  “Make do,” Styx growled.

  “But ...”

  The mage forgot what he was about to say as Dante grabbed him and, using a dagger, sliced a gaping wound into his inner forearm.

  Sergei screamed in pain as Dante yanked him forward, holding his arm over the stone so the flow of blood fell on the flat surface.

  “And here’s your sacrifice,” Dante announced.

  “Are you insane?” Sergei shrilly demanded, futilely attempting to break free of Dante’s grip. “I’m going to bleed to death.”

  Styx shrugged. “Then I suggest that you work quickly.”

  “I can’t.”

  Styx had his sword out of its scabbard and pointed at the mage’s throat in one graceful motion.

  “You have until the count of ten.”

  The mage made one last attempt to avoid his inevitable fate.

  “No. please.”

  “One. Two. Three ...”

  Chapter 24

  Jaelyn decided she hated white.

  And fog.

  And the constantly shifting landscape that made it impossible to know if they were traveling in circles.

  At the point of concentrating on simply putting one foot in front of the other, Jaelyn nearly moaned in relief when she felt Ariyal slide an arm around her waist, tugging her to a halt.

  “Stop, poppet,” he commanded softly. “You’re about to collapse.”

  She didn’t try to argue.

  Not only could Ariyal tangibly feel her weariness, but she was beyond trying to put on a brave face.

  They were lost, alone, with no way of escaping the mists.

  Turning, she pressed herself against Ariyal’s welcome warmth, laying her head over the steady beat of his heart.

  “We failed.”

  His hands ran a comforting path down the curve of her spine.

  “Not yet.”

  She made a sound of resignation at his determined optimism. “In case you missed the memo, the Dark Lord has already used the child to resurrect himself. Or herself.”

  “Yes, but he ... I mean she, isn’t at her full strength.”

  Jaelyn shuddered. Considering the power of the Dark Lord was one thing. Actually being close enough to feel the grinding pain was another.

  “God help us when she is.”

  “I don’t think we can count on any celestial help.” Ariyal’s arms tightened around her. “We’re on our own.”

  Jaelyn stilled, concentrating on her bond with Ariyal.

  She could sense his stark fear for her safety, his regret that he hadn’t found a way to escape from the fog, and a growing determination that made her heart twist with dread.

  Tilting back her head, she made no effort to hide her suspicious frown.

  “Ariyal, what are you scheming?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “This is the last chance to stop the Dark Lord from entering our d
imension.”

  She should have been prepared for the blunt confession.

  Hadn’t Ariyal been trying to halt the Dark Lord’s return from the moment they’d crossed paths?

  He had been willing to sacrifice everything, including his own life, to protect his people from the fury of their former master.

  Nothing had changed except the fact they were now mated.

  “And you want to play hero?” she snapped, infuriated by the thought of him putting himself in danger.

  He gave a slow shake of his head, his expression somber. “It’s not a matter of what I want.”

  She grimaced.

  It wasn’t, of course.

  They might not have asked to be put into the position of being the last thing standing between the Dark Lord and the world, but fate had chosen for them.

  Now there was nothing left to do, but try and do their best.

  “I know. I just ...”

  “What?”

  She returned her head to his chest, savoring the scent of herbs.

  “Wish that things could have been different.”

  He gave a light tug on her ponytail. “The future isn’t written yet.”

  “True.” Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. “Of course, if we do survive I want your promise that this is the very last time we have to save the world.”

  She felt his muscles clench at her teasing words. “Jaelyn.”

  Already sensing his protest, Jaelyn abruptly shoved her way out of his embrace, her chin jutted to a stubborn angle.

  This was one argument he wasn’t going to win.

  Not ever.

  “Don’t even go there,” she warned.

  He held up his hands, no doubt shifting through his mind for the best way to pacify the little woman and keep her out of danger.

  “I need you to find a way out of here.” He at last hit on inspiration. “There’s no point in defeating the Dark Lord if we’re stuck here.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “What you need and what you get are obviously two different things, Sylvermyst.”

  The gazes clashed as the heat of his frustration brushed over her with a physical force.

  “Does it have to be a fight every time?”

  “I’m not the one who is fighting.”

  “Jaelyn.”

  Whatever he was about to say was lost as Ariyal went rigid in shock, his attention turning to a point just beyond her shoulder.

  She spun around, not sure what to expect.