The sensation should have been embarrassing. He was a sophisticated male who’d been a favorite among females for centuries, not a silly hatchling. Instead, he savored the warmth spreading through his body.
At least he was trying to savor it until an oppressive power began to spread through the air.
Instantly he was on full alert.
“Dragon,” he breathed, coming to an abrupt halt. He easily recognized the scent. “Magma.”
Blayze stood next to him, her eyes wide. “What’s he doing here?”
That was the million-dollar question.
Char recalled the conversation he’d overheard. Magma had been a leader who clearly depended on brute strength and treachery to remain in power. Which meant he would assume everyone was like him.
Untrustworthy and plotting to double-cross him.
“Perhaps he wants to make certain that Flynn understands the danger of not following through on his commitment to betray Synge,” he suggested. “Or maybe he saw Bolt following us from the throne room and became suspicious.”
Blayze squared her shoulders. “I have to get rid of him before he can warn the vampire.”
Once again Char was forced to reach out and grasp her arm before she could charge into a fight. “You are certainly Synge’s daughter.”
She sent him a wary frown. “What does that mean?”
He hesitated. Probably best not to share his opinion that she had a habit of choosing violence to solve every situation.
Instead, he grasped her shoulders and stared down at her upturned face. He didn’t have to be a prophet to know that things were going to escalate quickly unless they managed to distract the approaching dragon.
“You need to prepare the ambush,” he told her.
She studied his face. Clearly she sensed he was hiding something from her.
“What are you going to do?” she demanded.
There was no time to think of a convincing lie. Already the air was sweltering with Magma’s power as he came closer and closer. Within a few seconds it would be too late for Blayze to escape unnoticed.
“I’m going to get rid of the dragon,” he said, giving her a firm push backward, straight through the doorway.
Her eyes widened. “Char, no.”
“Trust me,” he commanded, reaching out to grab the door and firmly close it. Then, with a twist of his hand, he crushed the knob until it was hopelessly jammed.
It wouldn’t hold her for long, but he only needed a couple of minutes to lure Magma away.
Hurrying down the corridor, he didn’t worry about the fact he was just about to confront a pureblood dragon who’d already proven he was willing to sink into the gutters to win. All that mattered was keeping Blayze safe.
Period. End of story.
He’d nearly returned to the public area of the lair when he rounded a corner to discover the large dragon with long black hair standing in the center of the corridor.
Magma.
The dragon was still wearing his gaudy crimson robe, and his expression remained arrogant, but Char caught a whiff of fear coming from the male. As if Magma was worrying about the success of his daring plan.
He should be worried.
Once Synge realized he’d been betrayed, he was going to go apeshit.
And when a pureblood dragon went apeshit, bad things happened. Earthquakes. Molten fire. End of the world.
Realizing that Char had stopped instead of scurrying away like a proper servant, the dragon sent him a warning frown. “Go about your business,” he snapped.
Char pressed his hands together, offering a small bow. “You are Magma?”
The dragon glowered with impatience. “I am.”
“Then this is a most fortunate meeting,” he murmured in the smarmy tones a servant was expected to use. “A vampire by the name of Flynn requested that I seek you out.”
Magma froze, abruptly centering his attention fully on Char. “Why?”
“He needs to meet with you,” Char told him.
Magma’s glower remained intact. “Where is he?”
“This way.” Char waved a hand toward a nearby fork in the corridor.
“Why did he send you?” Magma demanded, warily following Char as he headed into the side tunnel that led toward the less populated area of the lair. “If he wishes to speak with me he could have come himself.”
Char quickened his pace. Magma wouldn’t be fooled for long. The farther away from Blayze he could get, the better.
“He mentioned that he was in fear that your gift for Synge is in danger,” he told the dragon, sweat dripping down his spine. Even as a half-dragon he reacted to the heat that Magma was pumping into the air. Was it on purpose? Or just a symptom of the stress the dragon was under? “He is trying to protect it.”
“And who are you?”
“I owe Flynn a debt,” Char said, his gaze searching for a suitable spot to try and corner the dangerous beast. At least long enough for Blayze and Bolt to kill Flynn. After that…well, one problem at a time. He spotted an opening into what looked like an old torture chamber. Perfect. “One that is now paid,” he told the dragon, stepping aside to point into the dark room. “He’s in here.”
Magma tilted back his head, sniffing the air. “Why do I not sense him?”
“He is attempting to disguise his presence,” Char assured the large male.
Magma’s nose flared, his eyes smoldering with a crimson fire. “Liar,” he growled. “This is a trap.”
A shimmer of power swirled around Magma’s large body. A warning he was about to shift.
Char didn’t hesitate.
There was no way in hell he could battle Magma once he was in his dragon-form. Not if he hoped to live through the encounter.
His hand started to reach for the diamond-knife tucked at his lower back, only to realize that he wasn’t going to have time to do the necessary damage.
So instead, he used the only advantage he possessed.
Lifting his hand, he released the fey magic that bubbled through his blood. Instantly a spiderweb of sparkling strands floated through the air.
Magma was still in the process of shifting when the threads of magic wrapped around him, slowing time and freezing him in place.
It was a temporary solution.
Char had expended a lot of energy over the past hours and he could already feel the strain of maintaining his spell. His only hope was that he could hold on long enough for Blayze to destroy the curse.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Blayze turned to discover that she was in the same room they’d arrived in. The room that would eventually become her nursery.
Her first instinct was to break down the door and rush to protect Char. For all of his courage, he was no match for a pureblood dragon.
But his last words continued to echo in her mind.
Trust me.
How often had she demanded that he offer her his trust? To insist that he believe in her ability to make her own decisions?
Now that the shoe was on the other foot, she discovered it wasn’t as easy as she assumed. In fact, it was taking every ounce of her willpower to accept that Char could handle the large dragon.
Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Any second, Bolt would be coming down the corridor with the vampire. She couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Almost as if to mock her grim determination to be prepared, there was a sudden tingle of power that crawled across her back. With a muffled gasp, she spun on her heel, her gaze searching the shadows that filled the room.
Nothing.
With a frown, she took a tentative step forward.
“Hello. Who’s there?” she called out softly. There was another prickle of power. There was definitely magic in the air. But where was it coming from? “Hello?”
She moved to press her hand against the wall. It was warm. Not that unusual in a dragon lair. But she sensed that this was different. And there was the scent of…stone
?
Gargoyle?
That seemed unlikely. From what she could determine from her mother, dragons and gargoyles were natural enemies.
Of course, most demons were enemies to dragons.
Still trying to process what the strange tingles could mean, she was jerked back to attention as the smell of stone was abruptly replaced with the scorching power of Bolt along with the dry, raspy scent of a vampire.
They were coming.
Shaking off her unease, Blayze focused on her inner beast. Usually she was in a maddened state from her curse when she shifted. This time she allowed it happen in a slow, carefully controlled burst of power.
Heat and ecstasy flowed through her, an intoxicating brew of magic that made her feel giddy with pleasure. She shuddered, her body stretching and popping as her wings spread to a ten-foot span and her narrow head bumped into the ceiling.
At the same time her senses heightened to a near painful awareness.
She could feel the heavy stone of the lair that surrounded her. And the distant buzz of dragons in the throne room. More importantly, she could sense the precise moment that the vampire realized he was being led into an ambush.
It was in the spiked scent of adrenaline and the low curse that Flynn muttered just before Blayze smashed through the wall and surged forward.
Unfortunately, Blayze expected Flynn to try and bolt down the corridor. Which meant she’d missed destroying him with her dragon-fire when the vampire instead darted past her with a blinding speed, leaping through the opening she’d created and into the nursery.
***
Levet was counting each tick of the clock. Just a couple of hours to sunrise. And the looming possibility that his head would be mounted on a wall in Styx’s lair.
Not the most pleasant thought.
Perhaps he truly should consider an extended vacation in a remote locale.
Like Hades. Or Vegas.
His dark thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Vex surged to her feet.
“I sense her,” she announced.
Both Levet and Tayla rushed forward, nearly tripping over their feet in an effort to reach the succubus.
“She’s alive?” Tayla demanded.
Vex gave a small nod. “Yes.”
Levet breathed a sigh of relief even as Tayla pressed her hands to her heart.
“Where is she?” the imp asked.
Vex grimaced. “Not where. When.”
Levet’s wings twitched. Was she speaking in some sort of strange code?
“I do not understand,” he admitted.
Vex gave a lift of her hands, as if uncertain how to explain. “I don’t know how, but she’s traveled back in time.”
Levet’s eyes widened. “That is—” He swallowed the word “impossible.” Over the past few years he’d discovered that there was very little that wasn’t possible. “Can you contact her?” he asked instead.
She shoved her fingers through the short strands of her hair, suddenly appearing unbearably tired. “I’m going to try.”
Levet reached out to lightly touch her hand. “What can we do to help?”
“Make sure I’m not interrupted,” Vex said, once again perching on the edge of the bed.
Together Levet and Tayla returned to their position beside the door. Neither wanted to interfere with Vex’s attempt to latch on to Blayze.
Her success was too important to risk.
Levet pressed his back against the jamb while Tayla twisted her hands together in a nervous gesture.
“It must have been Char,” she abruptly said, her words so low that Levet could barely catch them.
Levet sent her a startled glance. He’d thought that Tayla was fond of Baine’s most trusted servant. “Why do you say that?”
She looked troubled, her face ashen from the strain of the past few hours. “He’s the only one who can manipulate time.”
Levet considered her words. He had no love for the dragons. Indeed, he found them almost as annoying as the vampires. An amazing feat.
But he couldn’t believe that Char would betray Baine.
Besides, the half-breed didn’t have the skills necessary to whisk Blayze away.
“Non, he can only slow time,” he reminded his companion. “He could not physically transport himself into the past.”
A portion of Tayla’s tension eased, although her expression remained worried. Until Blayze was returned, the looming war between dragons and vampires remained a very real possibility.
“Then what other explanation is there?” she asked.
Levet furrowed his brow. He didn’t know any demons capable of sneaking into a dragon’s lair and then traveling through time. It would have taken an enormous amount of power.
The kind of power only a dragon possessed.
“What is Blayze’s magic?”
Tayla blinked, clearly caught off guard by his question. “I don’t know.”
Levet gave a lift of his hands, knowing that he was grasping at…hmm…what was it? Hay? Grass?
Straw.
Grasping at straws.
Still, he had no other theory.
“If she has the ability to travel through time, she might have decided to go into the past,” he said.
Tayla stiffened, as if she was offended by his words. “Why would she want to leave? She just came home.”
Ah. She thought he was implying that Blayze was attempting to flee from her family, including Tayla’s mate, Baine.
“It would be the only way to escape her curse,” he pointed out in gentle tones.
“Oh.” Tayla caught her bottom lip between her teeth, considering Levet’s words. “And if we force her to return?”
Levet grimaced. The more he considered his wild theory, the more likely it seemed to be. After all, Blayze was already in the lair, which would answer the question of why Levet had not been able to detect the scent of an intruder.
Of course, he didn’t know why she would take Char with her, unless his magic remained tangled with her and it had been an accident.
Oui. That made sense.
Satisfied with the explanation, he turned his thoughts to solving the puzzle of what would happen if Vex could manage to grasp onto the dragon’s mind and pull her back through time.
His wings drooped, his stomach suddenly feeling icky. “Then it is quite likely the curse will return.”
Tayla gave a soft gasp, but before she could speak, Vex was calling out in satisfaction.
“I think I have her.”
“Vex.” Levet waddled forward, his tail stuck straight out behind him. “Wait.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Blayze roared. Her hulking size was a stupendous benefit when a dragon was soaring through open skies or fighting armies spread across a battlefield.
Not so great in the cramped confines of the lair.
Awkwardly turning toward the room, she watched as the vampire skidded to a halt near the back wall. He was just realizing that he’d managed to trap himself.
With a sizzle of magic, Blayze returned to her human form. She didn’t have the same power, but she was far more agile. Something that seemed important as Flynn lifted his hand to reveal a small, ceramic pot.
The curse.
“No, stay back,” Flynn warned.
“Blayze, be careful,” Bolt said as he stepped through the rubble that had once been the doorway.
The vampire glared at the male dragon. “Why did you deceive me?”
It was Blayze who answered. “Because you intend to betray your master.”
The vampire glared at them, his arrogant expression not entirely capable of hiding his fear as his eyes darted from side to side.
He knew he was cornered. Which only made him more dangerous.
“A lie,” he hissed, curling back his lips to reveal his massive fangs.
Blayze ignored his pointy teeth. They couldn’t hurt her. The only thing she feared was the vessel he had clenched in his hand.
Bolt eased hi
s way along the wall, moving slowly enough he didn’t startle the vampire.
“We already know that you are scheming with Magma to destroy Synge,” Bolt said.
“A dangerous accusation,” the vampire snapped.
“Yes, very dangerous. I can assure you that he will destroy you once he discovers what you have been plotting,” Bolt drawled, continuing to circle the room.
Realizing that Bolt was hoping to get close enough to grab the clay pot, Blayze stepped forward, drawing the vampire’s attention in her direction.
“Actually, it’s much more likely he’ll be kept alive so Synge can torture him,” she said in musing tones. “He is a dragon who loves to cause pain to those who dare betray him.”
The vampire lost a hint of his arrogance, his expression hard as he considered the best way to survive the next few minutes. “What do you want?” he finally asked.
“Why would you betray your master?” Blayze demanded, still trying to keep Flynn focused on her.
The vampire narrowed his gaze, an ugly expression settling on his pale face. “Dragons are not the only demons with ambition.”
“You wanted a promotion?” she scoffed.
The vampire looked confused, unfamiliar with the term. “I desired my freedom.”
Blayze rolled her eyes. Was the vampire stupid?
“And you believe Magma would have released you from your service?” she asked. “He is a dragon without honor.”
Flynn shrugged. “He would have no choice. If I revealed what he had done, he would be destroyed by the other Council members.”
Blayze gave a slow shake of her head. The vampire obviously had more ambition than brains. Magma would turn him into a pile of ash the second he’d served his purpose.
But before she could tell Flynn he was an idiot, she was distracted as the strange tingles returned.
What the hell was going on?
She shivered, trying to resist the urge to look over her shoulder. It could be a trick. Perhaps a servant loyal to Magma was lurking nearby just trying to confuse her.
Unfortunately, she must have given some hint that her attention had wavered. Or maybe Flynn belatedly realized that Bolt was getting close enough to rip off his head—one certain way to kill a vampire.
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