“No,” she protested. “I don’t want him dead.”
Char studied her with a baffled expression. “Why not?”
“My precise question,” Levet muttered.
“Shut up,” Char growled, his gaze never leaving Tayla.
“Hey,” Levet protested.
Tayla heaved a small sigh. She’d never make anyone understand.
“I can’t just leave him here.”
For a tense moment, Tayla thought the dragon might force her out of the tunnel. It wasn’t like she was strong enough to fight him if he decided to toss her over his shoulder and leave the castle.
Then, clearly sensing she would blame him if anything happened to Odel, he turned to tug her through the darkness.
“Baine is going to kill me…”
CHAPTER TWELVE
With long strides, Craven moved through his castle that was being methodically destroyed by the dragon flying overhead. Somewhere in his thick skull he knew he should be terrified. No one faced off against a dragon and lived to tell the tale. But it was fury that thundered through him as he stepped onto the rampart to discover Reece staring at the sky in horror.
Craven’s eyes flashed with crimson as he followed his companion’s gaze toward the massive creature that was belching fire. He hissed in fury. With each blast the bastard was turning the castle’s outer fortifications into smoldering piles of rubble.
“Shit,” he growled, watching as his five-million-dollar investment went up in smoke. “Does he have to destroy the whole damned place? I spent a fortune on this lair.” His hands clenched. “Not to mention the spells that are supposed to protect it. I’m going to kill that witch.”
The smaller male shoved back his long hair with fingers that visibly trembled.
“There’s not a witch in the world who has magic strong enough to keep out dragon-fire,” Reece muttered. “Maybe you shouldn’t have provoked the flying lizard.”
“Me? Don’t you mean ‘we’?” Craven growled, his heavy boots scraping against the stones beneath his feet as he lurched to the side. Damn the dragon and his blasts of fire. The entire place was shaking as if there was an earthquake. “We’re in this together.”
Reece shrugged, lifting a slender hand. “Sorry, but I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying that ‘there’s no honor among thieves’ and all that crap. Especially when there’s a dragon involved.” He waved his hand. Then, waved it again, and again. His eyes widened with fear. “Oh…hell.”
Craven smirked. “Problems?”
“I can’t form a portal,” the fairy mongrel breathed in shock.
Craven arched a brow. He’d specifically had the witch cast her spell so it recognized the fairy’s magic.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I have no ability to alter the spell.”
Reece glanced toward the sky. “The dragon must have blanketed us with his magic.”
“A pity.” Turning on his heel, Craven headed back toward the door.
He’d vaguely hoped he would come up here to discover the spells he’d paid out the ass to have wrapped around his property would be protecting them from the dragon attack. Now it was obvious the only option was to flee.
Not surprisingly, Reece was on his heels as he headed down the narrow flight of stairs.
“Where are you going?” Reece squawked, clearly forgetting his claim of every thief for himself.
“Unlike you, I actually planned for an emergency,” Craven informed him.
The fairy released a shaky sigh, the scent of his fear filling the air.
“You have a way out?”
Craven grimaced as he continued down the spiral staircase. He wanted to grab Reece by the throat and toss him out one of the narrow windows. Watching the treacherous fairy being burnt to a crisp might ease a portion of his seething frustration. Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny that the male had his uses.
Once they left the castle and were away from the dragon’s smothering magic, they would need a quick escape out of the mountains. What better way than a handy dandy portal?
He could use the imp, of course. But, he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t double-cross him.
No. For now, he had little choice but to allow Reece to tag along.
He swallowed a low snarl of annoyance, reassuring himself that he could always kill the idiotic fairy after he was safely away from the dragon.
“Yes, I have a way out,” he admitted, wincing as a shower of rocks tumbled from the ceiling to bounce off his head. “But first I have to go to the dungeons.”
Reece jerked to the side, blood running down his forehead from a stray rock.
“Why?”
“That’s where I left the imp.”
Reece wiped the blood from his face. “An unfortunate casualty of war.”
“Bullshit,” Craven snarled. “I’ve waited twenty years to get my hands on the bitch. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving without her.”
“In case you missed the memo, we’re being attacked by an angry dragon,” Reece snapped.
Craven rolled his eyes. Yeah, like he could miss the fact the castle was crumbling around him? Or the stench of melting metal? Or the shrill death cries from the trolls who were trying to flee the destruction?
“Then leave,” he told his companion.
“Where’s your emergency exit?”
Craven halted to yank open the heavy iron door that blocked the end of the staircase. Then, with a smile, he stepped to the side and waved Reece to go ahead of him.
“Follow me and I’ll show you.”
“Shit.” Reece peered into the dark tunnel that led to the dungeons before glancing over his shoulder at the stairs that were splitting beneath the impact of the dragon strikes. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he complained.
Craven snorted. “You thought it would be easy to steal a priceless hoard?”
Reece’s expression hardened with reproach. “You promised we’d be in and out before anyone realized we were there.”
Craven shrugged. It should have been that simple. He still didn’t know how the dragon had found him. Or why he was currently destroying the castle.
Unless he knew the imp was there and was trying to kill her?
“That was the plan,” he muttered.
“What’s the plan now?”
Craven made a sound of impatience. “Get the imp and wait until the heat is off. Literally.”
Reece gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “You think the dragons are ever going to stop hunting you if they know you have a way to sneak into their lairs?”
Did he? Craven muttered a curse. Of course didn’t. If they suspected he was plotting to steal their hoards, the dragons wouldn’t stop until he was dead.
He glared at his companion. “What do you suggest?”
“Forget the imp and get the hell out of here,” Reece promptly suggested.
“And what about the treasure?”
“You’d be alive.” Reece deliberately touched the gash that was rapidly healing on his brow. “Sometimes that’s the greatest treasure of all.”
Okay, the fairy had point. Craven might be greedy, but he wasn’t willing to die to get his hands on a hoard. Still, the thought of leaving behind the female he’d spent so much time and money to track down was grating against his nerves.
“I…” Craven allowed his words to trail away, a sudden fear twisting his gut at the thick silence that filled the air. “Listen,” he hissed.
“What?” Reece’s brows snapped together. “I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s the point, you moron.” Craven reached for the gun he had holstered at his lower back. Not that it was going to do him a damn bit of good. Human technology was worthless against the more powerful demons. “Where’s the dragon?”
There was a sizzle of electric energy as a portal opened and a slender, dark-haired man appeared on the stairs. For a crazed second, Craven tried to convince himself it was a fey who’d managed to break through the barriers. Then, he
caught sight of the fire that blazed in the amber eyes and he knew he was dead.
“Were you looking for me?” the dragon drawled, allowing his power to roar through the air.
“Oh…shit,” Craven breathed, scrambling backward, nearly tripping over Reece in an effort to get away.
But it was too late.
Far too late.
Slowly the dragon lifted his hand, whispering a word of power. Craven screamed as a ball of flame slammed into him, the heat searing him to his very bones.
###
Tayla hurried through the dark tunnels, well aware of the two males who prowled directly behind her.
The half-breed dragon and miniature gargoyle couldn’t be more different, but they managed to express mutual vibes of annoyed disapproval. Was it something males practiced?
They were very good at it.
Refusing to be distracted, Tayla turned down another tunnel that was lined with thick doors. Some were made out of iron, some silver, and one was made out of pure stone. Obviously her captor liked to be prepared for whatever species of demon he might feel in the mood to lock up.
Following the scent of figs, she came to a halt at the last door that was made of iron.
Instantly she could hear the sound of her father’s desperate voice.
“Hello. Can you hear me? I’m trapped.” There was pounding on the opposite side of the door. “I know there’s someone out there. Help me and I can pay you,” Odel lowered his voice, no doubt hoping to wheedle a deal with the guards. “I have money. Jewels. Anything you want.”
Char made a sound of disgust. “He’s very noisy,” he complained. “I could remove his tongue.”
“No,” Tayla retorted, fairly certain that the dragon wasn’t teasing.
Levet waddled to stand at her side. “Are you certain, ma belle? The dragon has a point.”
She scowled down at her companion. “No.”
Levet gave a flap of his wings, glancing toward Char. “I tried.”
There was more banging on the door. “Who’s there?” her father demanded. “Tayla? My sweet Tay-Tay, is that you?”
Tayla stiffened. Once upon a time her father’s nickname for her would have warmed her heart. It didn’t matter that he was constantly on the run, or that they never had money, or that he often forgot her for days on end. She’d told herself that as long as they were together, they were a family.
Now there was a stark emptiness in the center of her heart.
Stepping forward, she spoke directly through the tiny slot carved into the door. She assumed it was there so a guard could keep a constant watch on the prisoner if necessary.
“I’m here, father,” she assured the older imp.
“Oh, thank the gods.” Odel gave a rough sob. Despite his habit of flaunting the law, and gambling away money he didn’t have, her father was terrified of confined places. Perhaps because he was often threatened with being locked in a room and having the key thrown away. “I knew you would come for me.”
Tayla grimaced, glancing toward the dragon standing in the center of the tunnel, his stormy eyes searching for any hint of trouble.
“Can you open the door?” she asked.
Char turned to study her with a frown, looking as if he wanted to refuse her request. Then, seeing the grim determination that was etched on her face, he threw his hands up in resignation.
“Yes, I can open the damned door,” he growled. With gentle care he tugged her to the side, before shouting at her father. “Stand back, you idiot.” Lifting his leg, he gave a massive kick that smashed the door off its hinges and sent it flying through the air to smack against the back wall. He glanced toward a wide-eyed Tayla. “There. It’s open.”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, darting into the cell and shuddering at the sight of the door that was now a twisted pile of iron.
Yow. She’d think twice before asking Char for help again.
Odel rushed forward, grasping her fingers in a tight grip. Although he was unharmed by the carnage, he looked decidedly worse for wear. His hair was tangled as if it hadn’t been brushed in days, and his eyes bloodshot from weeks of consuming human alcohol. Worse, he smelled as if he hadn’t bothered to bathe in recent memory.
“Oh, my dear girl, you can’t believe how happy I am to see you,” he gushed, his grip so tight it hurt her fingers.
Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “Are you?”
He frowned, sensing her wary disbelief. “Of course.”
She tugged her hands free, trying not to notice how pathetic he looked in his wrinkled clothing and the streaks of dust on his cheek.
Odel was a master at playing on her sympathy, but this time she wasn’t in the mood for his games. He’d wounded her too deeply.
“Because I can be of use, isn’t that right?” she asked. “That’s the only time you bother to notice I’m alive.”
He placed a hand to his chest, as if he was the one hurt. “How could you say that, Tayla?”
“How?” She wrapped her arms around her waist, glaring at the male who should have devoted his life to protecting her. “You sold me.”
He at least had the grace to flinch at her sharp accusation.
“No,” he breathed. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
Her jaw tightened as she recalled the night she’d been attacked by the trolls. Her father had deliberately left her alone in the store, offering her up to the trolls like some sacrificial lamb.
“Then you didn’t use me to pay your debts?”
“I…” With a low groan, Odel fell to his knees, his head bent as he covered his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, the words muffled. “I had to do something. They were going to kill me.”
Focused on her father, Tayla nearly jumped out of her skin when Char brushed a gentle hand over her shoulder.
“We don’t have time for this.”
The dragon was right. They were in the dungeons of a…well, she wasn’t entirely sure what Craven was, but she did know he was evil. Baine was risking himself to give them time to escape. The longer she remained, the more danger she put him in.
But even as she told herself to turn and leave the cell, she was sending Char a pleading glance.
“I need to know why,” she said in husky tones.
The dragon gave a tense nod. “Five minutes.”
Tayla returned her attention to the imp who had lifted his head to regard her with a wary gaze.
“I knew you were helpless and utterly self-centered, but I thought you loved me,” she accused.
“I do.” He looked stricken that she would even question his devotion. “I love you with all my heart, Tayla.”
“But you love gambling more.”
He started to shake his head, only to heave a resigned sigh. They both knew she’d been barely more than an afterthought when he was being consumed by his madness.
“I wasn’t always this weak, wretched male, Tayla,” he said in a mere whisper.
Char rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. “Here comes the sob story.”
“True that,” Levet said, lifting his hand as if expecting the dragon to give him a high five. When Char simply glared at him, Levet blew him a raspberry. “It is rude to leave a gargoyle hanging.”
“It’s not a story,” Odel insisted, ignoring the two males who regarded him with blatant disgust. “Once I was young and handsome, and so talented that I was the envy of my tribe.” His shoulders straightened, his head tilting back as he remembered the days of his glory. “There wasn’t a male who could brew a more potent nectar. Or charm more females to his bed.”
Tayla held up a hand. “Not what I want to hear.”
“I’m just saying that I was destined to succeed, no matter what I might choose to do with my life. Which is why no one was surprised when your mother chose me as her partner.”
“Why would anyone be surprised?” she asked. Although fey often had arranged matings, it wasn’t unusual for a male and female to choose
one another based on love.
“Because she was a Chantri,” he said. “She could have had any male she wanted.”
Tayla’s mouth dropped open. Odel rarely spoke of her mother. And since it was obviously painful for the older imp to speak about the female he’d loved and lost, Tayla hadn’t wanted to press for information.
Now she felt as if she’d been blindsided.
“Chantri?” she repeated, trying to wrap her head around the idea. “My mother was a royal?”
“Yes.” Seemingly unaware that he’d just dropped a bombshell, Odel gave a short nod. “A few stayed behind when the king returned with the purebloods to the fairy homeland. Arrita preferred the freedom of this world to being locked in paradise,” he said.
“That explains it,” Levet murmured.
Tayla glanced at the gargoyle in confusion. “Explains what?”
“Your ability to create portals in a dragon’s lair,” Levet said. “A few of the more powerful Chantri can open portals anywhere. Even open more than one portal at a time.”
Without warning, Odel surged to his feet. “You have your mother’s talent?” he said with sudden excitement. He’d never paid close enough attention to know what she could or couldn’t do. “Can you really enter a…arrgg—” His words were choked off as Char reached out and grasped him by the throat, lifting him five inches off the ground. Odel’s eyes protruded, his face turning a strange shade of puce. “Shit, Tayla,” her father rasped. “Call off your boy.”
She met Char’s stormy gaze before giving a slow shake of her head.
“No,” she firmly refused.
Odel made a strangled sound. “What do you mean, no?”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” she demanded. “You’re already scheming how to use my talent for your own profit.” She watched the guilt darken his eyes. “I’m warning you right now, I won’t do it. Not for any reason.”
Char snorted, a tendril of smoke escaping his flared nostrils.
“Don’t worry, babe,” he drawled, leaning forward until he could stare directly into her father’s eyes. “Baine will kill him before he allows this creature to put you in danger.”
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