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Taken by Darkness

Page 9

by Alexandra Ivy


  He bent down to cover her lips in an achingly sweet kiss. “I have sworn to be at your side for all eternity. I love you, Juliet.”

  With a last kiss, he was turning and disappearing with a speed her eyes could not follow.

  “I love you, Marquis DeRosa,” she breathed before reluctantly making her own way to the nearby warehouse.

  With none of Victor’s talent for tracking his prey, she was forced to retrace her path from last eve and simply hope she stumbled across Levet. Not the best plan, but the only one she possessed.

  Entering the warehouse, she crossed to the gaping hole in the floor and lightly dropped to the cavern beneath. Then, moving to the various openings that led to tunnels, she scattered the tiny pieces of the amulet before heading down the nearest passageway.

  Her heart was thundering in her chest and her palms were sweating, but she took pride in the realization that the stench of human fear that had been prevalent hours before was beginning to fade. They had at least managed to save a number of prisoners.

  She bypassed the tunnel where they had battled the Jinn, shivering at the memory. Victor had sensed Levet nearby....

  Juliet abruptly paused, tilting back her head. She might not possess Victor’s vampire senses, but she was certain she could catch the faintest scent of gargoyle.

  Hoping that she was on the track of Levet and not some other gargoyle, Juliet squeezed through a narrow opening, banging her head on the low ceiling as she struggled to follow the scent. Good Lord, another inch on her backside and she would never fit.

  Her hands were scratched and her clothing was ripped in several places by the time she managed to reach the end of the tunnel, but her heart gave a leap at the sight of the entrance carved into the stone wall.

  Bending low, she wiggled through the opening, cursing as she sacrificed several strands of hair and a small part of her scalp to a low-hanging rock. But at last she was in a cavern large enough for her to stand upright and even to drag in a deep breath.

  Better yet, there was a tiny gargoyle only a few steps away, hung to the wall with silver manacles.

  With a muttered prayer of thanks, Juliet rushed to tug on the cuffs. Her witch blood gave her immunity to the silver, while her imp blood gave her enough strength to loosen the metal and allow Levet to squirm free.

  “At last,” the gargoyle muttered with a distinct lack of gratitude. “I thought you had decided to leave me to rot in this godforsaken cave.”

  Juliet futilely tried to knock the dirt from her pants. “It is a notion with growing appeal. Are you hurt?”

  “Of course I am hurt.” Levet turned, wiggling his one remaining gossamer wing. “Can you not see I am missing a wing?”

  She grimaced. “Are you able to walk on your own?”

  Levet sniffed. “Gargoyles are renowned for their ability to overcome pain and perform heroic feats that stun and amaze the demon world.”

  “Yes, well, the only heroic feat I desire is getting out of here.” She shivered. “As swiftly as possible.”

  “That is my specialty.”

  Expecting Levet to leave the same way she had entered, Juliet frowned as the gargoyle instead crawled between two large boulders and disappeared from sight.

  With a shake of her head, Juliet bent downward, discovering a small tunnel.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Following the night.”

  “But . . .”

  “Trust me.”

  Condemning the cramped tunnels and annoying gargoyles to the netherworld, Juliet crawled through the small space. Once she returned to Victor’s lair, she intended to spend hours soaking in a hot bath.

  At last reaching a connecting tunnel, Juliet straightened to find Levet waiting with an impatient expression.

  “This way,” he urged, waddling with surprising speed through the darkness.

  “You are certain?” she demanded, only to sigh in resignation as he continued on without so much as a backward glance. Following in his wake, she ruefully reminded herself that she had willingly chosen to rescue the aggravating gargoyle, even if at the moment she longed to give him a good shake. “You have not yet explained how you were captured by the Jinn.”

  “He”—Levet halted to clear his throat—“caught me off guard.”

  “Hmmm. You are hiding something from me.”

  He hunched his shoulders, refusing to turn as he doggedly continued down the tunnel.

  “It was not my fault.”

  “What was not your fault?”

  “I thought there was a nest of pixies, so I decided to perform a bit of magic to impress them.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Juliet muttered. She was familiar enough with Levet’s dubious magic to presume that it had been nothing less than a disaster. “What happened?”

  Levet paused, then turned down a side tunnel, his tail twitching behind him.

  “There might have been the smallest of explosions.”

  Juliet frowned. Although she suspected that Levet’s notion of a small explosion was a good deal more spectacular than her own, she knew there must be more to his tale than he was revealing.

  “Did you wound the Jinn?”

  “No, but a part of the tunnels were exposed.”

  “And?”

  “And it happened to be the part where the Jinn had stored his treasure.”

  “And?”

  Levet impatiently waved his stubby arms. “And I might have taken something he considered of value,” he grudgingly admitted.

  Ah. They at last were coming to the truth of the matter.

  “Then why do you not simply return it?”

  He turned into yet another tunnel. “I lost it trying to escape.”

  Juliet’s stomach clenched with dread. She knew very little about the Jinn, but she did know a great deal about demons in general and there was not one species that did not consider the theft of its treasure a suitable reason to maim, torture, and kill.

  “Maybe we should hurry,” she suggested.

  “My thoughts precisely,” Levet agreed, his remaining wing fluttering and his tiny legs churning.

  They rushed through the darkness in silence, both acutely aware of the heavy sense of dread that was beginning to crawl through the air. The Jinn was near.

  Too near.

  Intent on keeping pace with the gargoyle, Juliet nearly tumbled over the top of him when he came to an abrupt halt.

  “Mon Dieu. I smell it.”

  Juliet regained her balance and glared at her companion. “What is it?”

  “Continue north, ma belle. There is an opening less than a mile away.”

  “Levet?”

  She watched in disbelief as the miniature demon scrambled up the side of the wall, pushing his small body through a crack that hardly appeared large enough for a bat.

  Well.

  She did not expect Levet to grovel at her feet with gratitude at her heroic rescue, but to actually abandon her?

  She had thought they were friends.

  Thoroughly vexed by the unexpected betrayal, Juliet stomped down the tunnel, dangerously distracted by her flare of anger.

  Not that being on guard would have prevented the wall of the passageway from suddenly exploding inward as a body was thrown through it. Or her scream of fear as she recognized her mate lying in a pool of blood at her feet.

  Falling to her knees, she reached to brush the raven hair from Victor’s face, her heart contracting at the deep gash that marred the ivory skin of his forehead.

  “Victor?”

  His lashes slowly lifted to reveal remarkably clear silver eyes, his wounds already healing. She shook her head. Only a vampire could be shoved through four feet of pure rock and appear barely worse for the wear.

  “I thought I told you to rescue the gargoyle and leave,” he growled, flowing to his feet.

  She straightened, glancing toward the gaping hole in the wall. “And I thought you intended to rid us of the Jinn.”

  There was a cloud of fo
reboding, then the booming voice of the Jinn echoed through the tunnel.

  “Where is the gargoyle?”

  Victor stepped in front of her as the Jinn slammed his way through the wall, the air crackling with electricity.

  “If you have any other tricks, little one, now would be an appropriate moment to reveal them,” Victor rasped, pulling a large sword from the scabbard on his hip.

  “What of your warriors?”

  “Dead or wounded.”

  Shaking off the clinging dust, the Jinn pointed a finger directly at Juliet, his eyes glowing with an eerie light and his hair floating as if caught on a breeze.

  “Give me the gargoyle,” he roared.

  Drowning in the potent presence of the Jinn, Juliet was caught off guard when Levet abruptly appeared on a rock above the Jinn’s head, his expression smug.

  “I am here, you putrid saddlebag of rotting fungus,” Levet taunted, holding up his hand to reveal a wooden box ornately decorated with gold and precious jewels, including a ruby the size of Juliet’s fist. “And look what I discovered.”

  Wondering if her friend had taken complete leave of his senses, Juliet shook her head.

  “What the devil is that?”

  Victor stiffened with a tension that Juliet did not need to be a mate to sense.

  “The Jinn’s tiglia. It holds his anchor to this realm. Without it he will be forced to return to his own world,” he whispered softly.

  The demon’s power surged through the tunnel, making the earth shake and the air so thick it was nearly impossible to breathe.

  “Give that to me.”

  Without warning, Levet launched the box over the head of the Jinn, directly at Juliet.

  “Catch.”

  Too stunned to think clearly, Juliet snatched the box from the air, her heart nearly halting at the malevolent magic that slammed into her.

  Victor instinctively swept an arm around her, keeping her upright even as his wary gaze remained on the Jinn, who was already turning his fury toward Juliet.

  “Can you destroy it?” he demanded.

  Juliet’s first instinct was to deny the necessary skill for such a task. After all, she had never been properly trained in magic. How could she possibly destroy such a powerful object? And in truth, she simply wanted to drop the vile thing and run as far away as possible. The mere touch of it seemed to taint her.

  But, drawing on the bond with her powerful mate, she steadied her nerves and forced herself to actually study the box with her innate talent.

  The magic was unfamiliar, but she ignored the complex weave and instead concentrated on the odd tentacles she could sense flowing from the box to the demon. It was almost as if the very essence of the Jinn was in the box while the physical body was allowed to move around the world.

  So what if she severed the connection?

  She sucked in a deep breath, lifting her head to meet Victor’s steady gaze.

  “I will need time.”

  His smile was filled with a savage determination. “I can give you that.”

  With a growl that made the hairs on her nape rise, Victor launched himself at the Jinn, the sword in his hand a blur of silver as he attacked. At the same moment, Levet jumped off the rock, directly onto the beast’s head.

  Momentarily paralyzed, Juliet watched in horror as Victor ignored the massive blows from the Jinn, striking the demon with enough force to halt his desperate attempt to reach his tiglia. She had never witnessed a battle between two such mighty foes. It was . . . terrifyingly beautiful.

  It was only when Levet sent a fireball over her head that she came to her senses.

  “Sacre bleu, Juliet, you must do something.”

  Juliet shook her head in sharp self-disgust, turning her rattled attention to the box she held in her hands.

  She made no effort to destroy the actual tiglia. Such magic was beyond her skill. She doubted there was a witch in all of England who could perform such a spell. Instead she studied the tentacles that floated toward the Jinn like the strands of a web.

  They were magical, but they did not draw their strength from the box or the demon. Instead she could feel the steady pull from their surroundings. The air. The earth. The water of the nearby river.

  It was no wonder the Jinn could control lightning and earthquakes.

  He was a creature of nature.

  “Little one, you must hurry,” Victor rasped, the chill of his power making her shiver.

  “Do you think I am not trying?” she gritted, keeping her attention on the tentacles as she summoned her mother’s magic.

  She did not bother with a circle. She was not attempting to cast a spell, but rather to destroy an existing power. Ironically, it was a task that was easier for a half-breed than a full witch.

  Needing a tangible means to focus her vision, she jerked off her loose shirt and wrapped it around the box, at the same time imagining she was smothering the tentacles. If they could not draw on the powers around them, they would die. And with them, hopefully the connection to the Jinn.

  In the distance she could hear the sound of the vicious battle, smell the fresh blood spilling around her, feel the promise of death in the air, but she refused to be distracted. Not even when the Jinn’s roar of agony sent a shower of stones falling on her head.

  The end was close.

  She could feel it.

  Trembling from the effort of holding her vision in place, Juliet fell to her knees, her stomach heaving at the scent of burning flesh that suddenly filled the tunnel.

  She had to persevere . . . she had to . . .

  “Juliet.”

  Wearily lifting her head, she watched as Victor lunged toward her, abruptly covering her with his much heavier body. It was not until the ceiling collapsed, however, that she realized the Jinn was now no more than a smoking pile of charred flesh and they were about to be buried alive.

  Not precisely the honeymoon she had been hoping for.

  One week later

  Seated at the small table he had situated before the fire in his lair, Victor sipped his aged brandy and watched Juliet absently nibble a piece of marzipan candy.

  A frown touched his brow. She looked delectable, of course. Wearing an emerald satin nightgown that perfectly matched her eyes, and her fiery curls left loose to spill over her shoulders, she was the perfect image of Eve.

  Feminine temptation at its very best.

  But it was her obvious lack of hunger that caused a familiar stab of alarm to clench his heart.

  “Shall I have the chef replaced, my love?” he demanded, his tone revealing he would happily go in search of a superior chef without hesitation.

  “Good Lord, no. This food is heavenly.” Juliet dropped the candy on the tray as she regarded him with astonishment. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  He waved a hand toward the table that was laden with lobster in butter, braised ham, creamed potatoes, steamed asparagus, and fresh pears from the hothouse.

  “You have not eaten more than a few bites.”

  She gave a choked laugh. “Because I am still stuffed from the enormous meal you served when I first awoke. Are you attempting to fatten me like a Christmas goose?”

  “You need food to regain your strength.”

  Leaning forward, she offered a slow, wicked smile that sent a predictable flare of hunger blazing through him. Juliet had only to be near for him to be hard and aching to be buried deep inside her heat.

  “I would say that I effectively proved that I have fully regained my strength,” she husked. “Or have you so easily forgotten?”

  He reached to grasp her slender fingers, his gaze searing over her beautiful face.

  “I will never forget a moment of our time together.”

  “Me either,” she breathed, holding his gaze as she deliberately allowed him to sense her stirring arousal.

  Over the past days they had rarely left the lair as they gloried in the explosive passion between them. Now he savored her ready respon
se even as he glanced around the candlelit chamber, for the first time noting the hint of shabbiness.

  “We shall need a larger bed,” he abruptly decided.

  “It seems just the perfect size to me,” she murmured. “Besides, it is very old. You must have owned it for centuries.”

  He shrugged. “I have no sentimental attachment to the furnishings. In truth, I prefer they be disposed of so you can choose what pleases you. We can begin tonight if you are feeling strong enough.”

  Hoping to please his mate, Victor was disappointed when she pulled her fingers from his grasp and studied him with a wary expression.

  “Victor, are you . . . perfectly well?”

  “Why would I not be well?”

  She shook her head in bewilderment. “Since we defeated the Jinn you have hovered and fluttered about as if I were as fragile as Venice glass. For God’s sake, you even allowed Levet to visit when I said I wanted to see him.”

  He shuddered at the hideous memory. “Do not remind me.”

  “Is there something you are not telling me?” Rising to her feet, she circled the table and settled her hands on his shoulders, covered by his brocade robe. “Did my spell to break the Jinn’s connection to this world do something horrible to me? Am I dying?”

  He surged to his feet, shocked by her question. “No. You are perfect, Juliet.”

  She tilted back her head to meet his narrowed gaze. “Then why are you behaving so oddly?”

  With a grimace he accepted there was nothing to do but confess the truth. No matter how it might expose his vulnerable heart.

  “I want you to be pleased with me and with this lair,” he confessed, his voice raw with need. “I want you to feel as if this is your home.”

  Her eyes darkened with an unwavering love that instantly soothed his fears.

  “Victor, this lair is merely a place where we are currently residing.” She pressed a hand to his chest, a smile of satisfaction curving her lips. “My home is here . . . in your heart. And nothing, absolutely nothing, could please me more.”

  With a smooth motion, he swept her off her feet, headed for their bed. The cold emptiness that had claimed his soul centuries ago was melting beneath the tender heat of her gaze.

 

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