Devoured By Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  “You’ll become my lover when I say and not a minute sooner,” she assured him.

  Caine rolled over just in time to watch her sashay from the room, the sway of her tight little ass sending his blood pressure through the roof.

  Shit.

  Who the hell was Cassandra?

  An isolated, cave-dwelling prophet who’d been irrevocably damaged by a demented demon lord?

  Or a ruthlessly seductive female who’d just given him a smack down with frightening ease?

  Rolling to his feet, Caine rubbed the lump on the back of his throbbing skull. Karma was definitely a bitch, he decided, heading toward the guest bedroom upstairs.

  Entering the room decorated in shades of yellow, Caine opened the walnut armoire and pulled out a pair of jeans and plain T-shirt.

  Like every other cur, Caine always kept a surplus of clothing available in his various lairs.

  Who knew when he might feel the urge to shift?

  Of course now, all that was in the past.

  As a Were he would have the ability to control his shifts.

  Shaking his head at the disturbing thought, Caine entered the attached bathroom and stripped off his grubby jeans before stepping into the shower.

  After hours spent digging out of the tunnels that had collapsed on top of him and Cassandra, he was in dire need of hot water and soap that was made to scrub off the filth, not make him smell like flowers.

  He’d just dried off and was in the process of pulling on a pair of jeans when the door to the bedroom was thrown open and his houseguest entered with a scowl.

  “Dammit, Cassie.” He jerked up his jeans, his body hardening at the sight of the tight jeans that clung lovingly to her slender curves and the casual tank top that hinted at the soft swell of her breasts. Her damp silver hair tumbled freely down her back, making his fingers curl with the need to stroke through the silken length. “If we’re going to be sharing a house we obviously need to establish a few ground rules.”

  She ignored his chiding, her expression distracted. “We need to go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  Her hand lifted in a vague wave. “East.”

  A chill inched down his spine. He hadn’t saved this female’s life only to have her toss it aside on a whim.

  “No way. Until I figure out how to keep hidden the fact you’re a prophet, you’re staying here.”

  She shook her head, her hand unconsciously pressing against her stomach.

  Caine’s heart twisted at the memory of the small mark of the demon lord that marred the satin skin just below her belly button. The shimmering tattoo made him long to howl in fury.

  Cassandra belonged to him.

  No one else could have her.

  “I have to …”

  Crossing the carpet, he took her shoulders in a gentle grasp. “To what?”

  Without warning she headed toward the door. “Come with me.”

  Caine paused long enough to pull on his T-shirt. Usually he made it a rule never to keep a woman waiting, but he already knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming.

  Stepping into the hall he padded down the hardwood floor and entered the master bedroom, not at all surprised his guest had taken command of the finest room in the house. She might have been a prisoner for the past several years, but she was all woman.

  She skirted past the heavy, walnut bed that had been carved by wood sprites and pointed at the wall painted a soft shade of ivory.

  “Look,” she commanded.

  Caine swore at the sight of the shimmering hieroglyphic that swirled just above the surface of the wall.

  He didn’t know a damned thing about prophecies, but he had seen the peculiar symbols lining the walls of Cassandra’s cave. They were visions of the future.

  Visions that powerful demons would commit wholesale slaughter to get their greedy hands on.

  “Already? You couldn’t take a few days off?”

  Her lips tightened at his impulsive words. “It’s not a faucet. I can’t turn it on and off.”

  He bit back a sigh. Of course she couldn’t.

  No more than he could head for the front door and run as far as possible from this woman who was destined to lead him straight to disaster.

  Hell, he’d already died.

  What could be worse?

  Shutting his mind to the numerous, unpleasant answers to his question, Caine reached out to touch the swirling symbol.

  “What is it?”

  Cassie shifted closer, as if unconsciously seeking his comfort. Without hesitation he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her against him.

  “Gemini,” she whispered.

  “The zodiac sign?”

  “The alpha and the omega.”

  “Still too vague.”

  She shivered. “A child.”

  “Yeah, that would’ve been my next guess.” He brushed a reassuring kiss over the top of her head, the tender gesture disturbingly natural. “What does it mean?”

  “A warning.” The stunning green eyes held a fear that twisted Caine’s gut. “The child must be protected.”

  “Protected from what?”

  “The darkness.” She shuddered. “Evil.”

  “Where is the mysterious child?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  His lips twisted. Exactly what he’d expected. “Great.”

  Tilting back her head, Cassie stabbed him with a fierce gaze. “Caine, he must be protected.”

  Chapter 10

  It was the middle of the night when the small jet landed on the private airstrip in a remote field south of Chicago.

  With a smooth efficiency it was quickly whisked into the small hangar, and the landing lights switched off before attracting unwanted curiosity.

  Vampires made drug runners look like amateurs when it came to “flying below the radar.”

  Laylah tossed aside the glossy magazine that had been filled with painfully gaunt females who were dressed in ridiculous outfits and wearing shoes that looked like torture devises. Of course, the spiked heels would come in handy if she had to spend any more time in the company of vampires. So long as the heels were made of wood.

  Something to consider.

  The wheels came to a halt, and Laylah was on her feet, moving past the low leather seats that were arranged around small tables and set to easily view the flat screen monitor on the wall.

  The elegant décor was carried into the gourmet kitchen and cocktail bar that was fully stocked with delicacies to tempt the most discerning demon. No doubt the bedrooms where Tane was safely tucked in a sealed compartment were equally lavish, but she’d sternly refused to allow herself to leave the forward cabin.

  She wasn’t a hypocrite.

  Sex with Tane had been …

  She shifted through a number of adjectives, but none of them came close to describing the explosive pleasure of Tane’s touch.

  The man had serious skills between the sheets.

  No, she couldn’t make herself regret giving into temptation, but she also couldn’t ignore her problems that were piling up with frightening speed.

  A woman who might or might not be her mother who was being held captive in an unknown location.

  A crazy-ass aunt in league with a demented mage who were no doubt hot on her trail.

  A child that was soon going to be considered the freaking jackpot for every demon hoping to curry favor with the Dark Lord.

  And a ruthless vampire who she suspected intended to turn her over to the Commission the minute she let down her guard.

  Yep, it all added up to problems with a capital P.

  The door to the jet was tugged open by a uniformed vampire and without missing a step she was headed down the metal stairs and glancing about the hangar. It was larger than she’d first suspected and as bright as day with fluorescent lights running the length of the curved ceiling. It was also immaculate. A testament to Victor’s control over his servants, even an ocean away.

  Wh
ich meant they’d already been ordered not to let her escape.

  She grimaced, ignoring the nearby exit as the intoxicating scent of Tane spiced the air. On some level she’d known she would never have time to flee, even with him locked in the private compartment. It was still annoying as hell.

  There was the sound of flapping wings as Levet landed at her side, his ugly little face pinched with displeasure.

  “Worst. Airline. Ever,” he muttered, waving his pudgy arms. “No drinks, no peanuts, no in-flight movie. Not even a sexy stewardess waiting to induct me into the Mile

  High Club.”

  Laylah smiled despite her bad mood. “You were a statue for most of the flight.”

  Levet sniffed. “All the more reason to have suitable accommodations when I awoke.”

  “I warned you to leave him in London,” Tane’s dark voice wrapped around her, making her flesh prickle with awareness. Damned vampire. “Of course, Victor did warn me not to even consider slipping away without him.”

  Laylah stubbornly refused to turn and watch Tane’s approach.

  What was the point?

  Her body was already giving her a play-by-play.

  The soft tread of his bare feet against the cement floor. The cool wash of his power that filled the air. The male scent that made her think of things that were illegal in some states.

  Then he was standing at her side, his golden skin glowing in the overhead lights, and his face impossibly beautiful.

  Her heart gave an odd, dangerous lurch before she was squashing the sensation.

  The vampire was drop-dead, heart-stopping, Johnny Depp gorgeous. And of course, there was that whole badboy thing with the mohawk and huge dagger stuck in the waistband of his shorts.

  Not that he needed either to be a badass.

  It was chiseled into his DNA.

  Was it any wonder when he strolled around wearing nothing more than a pair of khaki shorts her hormones were shot into hyperdrive?

  Heat washed through her as she met the liquid honey gaze, but before she could make a complete fool of herself, Tane was abruptly whirling toward the back of the hangar, shifting to stand between her and whatever he’d sensed approaching.

  “What is that stench?” Levet complained, his eyes widening in sudden surprise. “Ah, I should have known. The King of I-have-a-bigger-stick-stuck-up-my-derrière-than-you is approaching.”

  Laylah frowned. “Who?”

  “The Anasso.” Tane shot a warning glare at the gargoyle. “You’ll show proper respect or I’ll have your head mounted on my wall, gargoyle.”

  “Shit.” Laylah didn’t think. She whirled on her heel and took off.

  Two steps later, Tane had her by the arm and spinning about to meet his searching gaze. “Where are you going?”

  “Anywhere that isn’t here.” She gritted, futilely struggling against his hold. “Maybe you’ve forgotten I’m considered the equivalent of Typhoid Mary among the demon world, but I can promise you the King of Vampires hasn’t. He’ll consider it his duty to hand me over to the Oracles.”

  “Laylah, it’s too late to run.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Damn you. You led me straight into a trap.”

  His brows snapped together, like he was offended. “No, Laylah. I didn’t contact Styx.” “Yeah right. You expect me to believe he just happened to make a royal appearance at a tiny airport in the middle of nowhere?” “Tane speaks the truth.”

  A voice echoed through the hangar, the air so thick with frigid power Laylah could barely breathe. Holy shit.

  Talk about making an entrance. With her heart lodged in her throat, Laylah forced herself to turn. And was terrified all over again. But who wouldn’t be?

  Styx, King of all the Vampires, was a towering brute. He easily topped six foot five, with shoulders that looked like they should be registered in different counties. He was dressed in black leather matched with heavy shit-kickers that would have given Tim Gunn an ulcer, and his raven hair was pulled into a braid that fell to the back of his knees.

  But it wasn’t the whole Blade-vibe that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her innate powers stir in warning.

  It was the grim, bronzed face that hinted of Aztec ancestors and the dark eyes that held an ancient knowledge. There was a cruelty etched in his handsome features that warned this vampire hadn’t earned his position as Anasso because of some stupid popularity contest.

  He was the biggest, baddest, most ruthless demon going.

  Period.

  Strolling to stand directly in front of her, Styx turned his head toward Tane, a raven brow flicking upward as the younger vampire placed a protective arm around her shoulders.

  “He was not the one to inform me of your imminent arrival, nor did he warn me that he intended to journey to Victor’s territory with a creature he was commanded to capture,” the Anasso drawled. “Something we’ll discuss in full detail at a more appropriate moment.”

  Laylah stiffened. Dammit. It was moronic to be offended, but she was freaking sick of being treated as if she didn’t have feelings. Or pride.

  “Creature?”

  Tane’s arm tightened around her. “Laylah, maybe you should let me handle this.”

  Styx’s power thickened until Laylah felt as if it might flay the skin from her body.

  “You seek to challenge me, Charon?” he asked, oh so softly.

  To his credit, Tane didn’t flinch. His manner, however, was one of wary respect. Smart vampire.

  “I request the opportunity for an audience.”

  Styx shot a brief glance toward Laylah. “Intriguing.” He paused before returning his attention to Tane. “And impressive. Not many vampires are suicidal enough to dangle a forbidden half-breed beneath the noses of the Oracles.”

  “That wasn’t my intention.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  Laylah parted her lips to inform the offensive duo that it was rude to talk about her as if she weren’t there, but before she could descend into complete madness, Levet charged forward, his wings flapping.

  “Hey, where’s the Starbucks? A gargoyle cannot be expected to be civilized before his vanilla dolce latte.” He planted his fists on his hip. “And what about my Cinnabon? Where are the Cinnabons?”

  Styx snapped humongous fangs at the gargoyle, but without warning the biting power eased and something that might have been resigned amusement flashed in the Anasso’s dark eyes.

  “You really do enjoy living on the edge,” he told Tane in dry tones.

  Tane snorted. “Victor threatened an international incident if I left him in London.”

  Styx shook his head. “Why me?”

  There was the unmistakable scent of Were before a tiny woman with short blonde hair and green eyes that dominated her heart-shaped face entered the hangar and crossed to stand at Styx’s side.

  “Because you love me,” she said with a dimpled smile.

  The towering vampire scowled, but not even the dimmest demon could fail to notice the warm adoration that softened his expression.

  “I do, but I thought I asked you to wait in the car?”

  “You didn’t ask, you commanded. And we both know how well I obey orders,” she said pertly, turning to grab Laylah’s hand. “Hi, you must be Laylah.”

  Laylah struggled to find her voice. Although she knew that she’d never met the pretty Were, for a moment she’d been convinced that it was Harley walking toward her.

  Up close she could see the subtle differences between this woman and the female Were that Caine kept as a heavily protected guest at his home, but the resemblance was still stunning.

  “You’re …”

  “Darcy,” the woman supplied, her smile filled with a friendliness that put Laylah on instant guard. She had ample experience at being feared, loathed, and kicked when she was down. But kindness? Not so much. “Harley’s twin sister.”

  “Where is she?” she asked. Harley had been left behind when Caine and Laylah had hea
ded to Hannibal, but since the cur had been stupid enough to try and kidnap the King of Weres, Laylah was fairly certain everything had gone to hell. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s in Chicago.” Darcy chuckled. “And I suppose she’s okay considering she’s just accepted the position as the Queen of Weres.”

  Laylah’s mouth fell open.

  Now that was a shocker.

  Caine had always been careful to keep Laylah isolated from his pack, but she’d heard the rumors that the King of Weres had murdered Harley’s family and intended to include Harley in his path of destruction once he found her.

  Obviously the rumors were wrong, or Harley was a thrill-seeker on a massive scale. “She mated with Salvatore?”

  Darcy nodded. “Crazy, isn’t it? But, she’s convinced she loves the arrogant pureblood.”

  “I’m very happy for her,” Laylah murmured, telling herself the pang in the center of her heart wasn’t envy.

  Didn’t she just do an inventory of her pile of problems?

  Having a mate would only be the cherry on the top.

  “She’s been worried about you.”

  Laylah blinked. She and Harley had an odd, distant connection. But they hadn’t been BFFs.

  “Really?”

  “She made me promise that I would make sure that you weren’t being bullied by a bunch of overzealous vampires.”

  “I have done my best to protect her,” Levet announced, waddling to lean against Laylah’s leg in a strangely touching gesture. “But you know how impossible vampires can be.”

  Darcy glanced toward her mate. “Intimately.”

  Styx reached to brush a tender hand down Darcy’s cheek. “My dear, perhaps we can finish this conversation in a more secure location?”

  Laylah took an impulsive step backward, her momentary pleasure in knowing there were actually those who cared about her in the world forgotten in a tidal wave of fear.

  “No.”

  Tane tugged her back to his side, his body tightly coiled as if preparing to strike.

  “Where do you intend to take her?” he growled.

  “Easy, Tane.” Styx lifted a hand, the motion making the medallion that hung around his neck glow in the overhead lights. “For now I merely have a few questions for Laylah. She will be safe in my lair.”