There was a shrill creak, then a strange crackling sound as the layers of gold and gems were pulled away with the weight of the chandelier. En masse they plummeted downward. Tur looked confused, as if he didn’t understand what was happening. Chaaya, on the other hand, was desperately scrambling backward.
She’d barely managed to reach the edge of the danger zone when the tons of metal and flames and thick iron chains smashed Tur on the head. Dazed, he stumbled backward, slamming into a column with enough force to snap it in two. More of the precious gems cascaded from the ceiling.
Knowing it was now or never, Chaaya surged to her feet and dashed across the shattered tiles of the floor. She snatched her spear out of the rubble and leaped forward in full Xena mode. Tur’s crimson eyes widened at the sight of her, but it was too late for him to react. Her spear was already piercing his lower stomach to puncture his heart before he could move.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” she asked between clenched teeth, twisting the spear until the screaming stopped. “My name is Chaaya.”
Yanking her spear free, Chaaya turned to discover Dabbler surveying the destroyed room with wide-eyed horror.
“No!” Dabbler cried out, pointing a shaking finger in her direction. “You…you…” Words seemed to fail him.
Chaaya shrugged. “This was your idea, not mine.”
The words had barely left her mouth when a heavy object smashed into the back of her head, nearly cracking her skull. Chaaya felt an explosion of pain, then a welcome darkness rushed up and crashed over her.
That was the last thing she knew.
Chapter 12
Basq paced the cramped cell. Back and forth. Back and forth. He was on his 733rd circuit—yes, he’d counted each one—when there was a faint groan from across the narrow space. Rushing to kneel beside the shabby cot, he grabbed Chaaya’s hand as her lashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes.
A funny sensation tightened his chest. As if his unbeating heart was being squeezed in a tight vise.
After being trapped in the silver net, he’d been nearly comatose. The shocking pain had driven his demon into a protective hibernation, but he’d been distantly aware that Chaaya was being forced into a battle. The fear and sense of helplessness had been brutal. Much worse than any torture he’d ever endured.
Now he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go.
Unfortunately they were currently locked in a dungeon far below the palace with a heavy iron door and silver lock that ensured he was effectively trapped. They needed to get out of there before the chieftain decided exactly how he wanted to punish Chaaya for not dying.
Her eyes at last focused and he ran the tips of his fingers over her cheek. “What part of don’t cause trouble didn’t you understand?”
She wrinkled her nose. “It wasn’t my fault.”
He skimmed his hand over her shaven scalp, surprised to find how soft the shorn strands of hair were beneath his palm. Then he traced the delicate tattoos that ran down the side of her neck.
“How badly are you hurt?”
“A few aches and pains.” She shoved herself to a sitting position. “Nothing serious. What about you?”
He shrugged. “I drank the blood I had in the flask to regain my strength.”
She studied his face, as if searching for any lingering wounds. Then, finally satisfied that he was fully healed, she swiveled her feet off the cot and glanced around the barren cell.
There wasn’t much to see. A stone floor that matched the stone walls and stone ceiling. Two cots. And a door. That was it.
“How long was I out?”
“Two hours,” Basq said before giving a faint shrug. He’d been too busy worrying to pay any attention to the passing time. “Maybe three.”
Her eyes narrowed with fury. She shoved herself off the cot. “That bastard. I’m going to…”
“Chaaya.” Basq grabbed her shoulders, keeping her from disappearing. “I can’t get out of here.”
“Oh.” She made a visible effort to control her burst of anger, offering him a tight smile. “No problem. Escaping prisons is my specialty.”
His grip softened as he smoothed his hands down the curve of her back, cupping her hips as he stepped close enough to savor her warmth.
“Not your only specialty,” he assured her.
“True.” She lifted her hand to run her fingers through his hair. “I’m also awesome at kicking orc butt.”
She was teasing, but her words hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. Suddenly he was back in the net, the pain searing through him as he heard the roar of the orc as he tried to kill this female.
“I hated being helpless,” he ground out, his fangs aching. “I never want to feel like that again.”
She cupped his cheek in her palm. “I had it under control.”
His lips twisted. This female would face a horde of marauding trolls without batting an eye.
“Always in charge.”
“It’s how I roll.”
He tugged her against him, desperately wanting to shut his eyes and pretend they were alone in his lair with nothing to think about but the glorious desire weaving a spell between them.
“I thought we were in charge together?”
Her thumb stroked along his jaw before tracing the tip of his fang. “That means having each other’s backs, doesn’t it?”
Basq shivered as the image of sliding his fangs into her soft, yielding flesh seared through his mind. The hunger for her taste had been simmering inside him since her arrival in Vegas. Now it felt like a wildfire, scorching through him with a ferocious intensity.
With a jerk, Basq dropped his hands and stepped back. He was treading in dangerous waters. The eternal, everlasting, forever and ever sort of danger.
“Yeah, that’s what it means,” he said, giving himself a mental shake. This wasn’t the time for distractions.
No matter how tempting.
Chaaya studied him, perhaps sensing his inner conflict. Then, with a cocky little smile, she sauntered toward the door.
“I’m going to get some keys.”
“Be careful, Chaaya,” he urged. “The chieftain might act like a fool, but he’s a cunning demon.”
“A dead demon once I get out of here,” she assured him.
“Not without me,” he insisted. “I want in on the fun.”
“Hold tight.”
Chaaya pressed against the door, her body fading from sight as she oozed through the thick metal. Any other time, Basq would have been fascinated by her amazing talent. He’d never met anyone who could walk through solid walls. But now he resumed his pacing, his hands clenched in frustration.
It was annoying as hell to have Chaaya once again risking her neck while he was trapped. When he got his hands on the chieftain… No. Not his hands. His fangs.
He was on his sixth circuit when there was a faint click and the door swung open. Rushing out of the cell, he found Chaaya standing in the center of the passageway, a heavy set of keys dangling from her fingers.
“That was quick,” he congratulated her.
“The guards were busy with a strange dice game that included lots of swearing and stomping their feet. If we hurry, we might be able to sneak past them.”
He nodded, taking a step toward the closed door at the end of the dungeons.
“Wait,” an urgent voice called from the cell across the walk space. “Master Vampire.”
Chaaya sent him a puzzled glance. “A friend of yours?”
The torches shoved into the brackets along the dirt floor flickered as Basq’s anger thundered through the air. “He’s the bastard that sold us out.”
Her eyes narrowed, as if she’d been struck by a sudden realization. Before she could speak, however, the imp continued his pleas for help.
“That
’s not true,” he whined. “I would never betray a client. It’s bad for business.”
“Then how did they find me?”
“I was attacked just minutes after you left. I assume they followed you.”
Chaaya rolled her eyes at the smooth words. “Do you believe in leprechauns?” she asked Basq.
“About as much as I believe this imp had nothing to do with our capture,” he retorted.
“Wait. Okay.” A desperate edge entered the imp’s voice. “I might have heard the chieftain was searching for two intruders in the city.”
“So you cashed in,” Basq snapped.
“It’s what I do.”
Basq wanted to smash through the door and rip out the imp’s heart, but he leashed the impulse. No use wasting his energy. Not when it’d been his own fault for trusting the imp in the first place. No need to compound his stupidity.
Plus, there was the sudden sound of a door being pulled open.
“Uh-oh. I think the guards are finished with their dice game,” Chaaya warned.
“I’ll deal with them,” Basq assured her.
“You go ahead.”
Basq sent her a curious glance. “What about you?”
“I have a small task to take care of. I’ll join you before you reach Dabbler.” Her lips twisted as he arched a brow. “That’s the idiotic name of the chieftain.” She nodded toward the far end of the dungeon. “Go.”
Confident that Chaaya could take care of herself, Basq wrapped himself in darkness and silently moved through the door that had been opened. He found two mongrel goblins roaming around the cramped guard chamber, their heavy steps shaking the ground as they grunted in annoyance.
Basq was momentarily puzzled. What the hell were they doing? A second later realization hit.
They were searching for the keys that Chaaya had stolen.
He smiled in anticipation. Time for some fun.
Invisible to his enemies, Basq flowed into the chamber and grabbed the first guard.
The battle was short, brutal, and not nearly satisfying enough.
Within a minute both mongrels were sprawled on the stone floor, their unseeing gazes staring at the low ceiling.
Basq stepped over the dead demons and through the door on the other side of the chamber. He discovered a roughly carved tunnel that wound upward, taking him to the main floor of the palace.
He paused in a shadowed corner, releasing his power as he allowed his senses to flow through the massive building.
There were dozens of demons spread through the various rooms, mostly mongrels or fey creatures. No vampires or Weres. Good. He concentrated specifically on the smell of brownie that scented the air. That had to be the chieftain.
Once he got the trail, he moved across the marble floor and headed toward the narrow opening to the nearest turret. He didn’t bother to use his powers of concealment as he raced up the narrow steps. He would be a blur to anyone except the most powerful demons.
The stone stairs spiraled upward, at last ending with a heavy wooden door that was defended by two large uniformed guards.
Basq halted just out of sight. Chaaya would never forgive him if he destroyed the chieftain before she could join him. A second later she appeared from around the bend in the staircase.
“Here,” she murmured, tucking something in his hand.
Basq glanced down, catching sight of the amulet that was still warm from her skin. The strange sensation in the middle of his chest returned as the metal glinted in the moonlight that slanted through the narrow slots in the stone walls.
When Tarak had offered him the hammered eagle, he’d been honored. It not only sealed their relationship as clansmen, but it’d revealed the older vampire’s trust in Basq.
Now the amulet was even more precious. Chaaya had obviously sensed how much it meant to him and had gone into the imp’s cell to get it back. It proved that she cared more than she wanted to admit.
Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to embarrass her by making a big deal out of her thoughtful gesture. She liked the reputation of being a badass loner who didn’t need anyone or anything.
He slipped it back on the gold chain that lay against his chest. He could barely sense its weight, but he realized that he missed the feel of it. As if he’d lost a piece of himself.
“Is the imp dead?” he asked, his voice pitched too low to carry.
“No.” She shrugged. “I thought I would leave him to rot in his cell. It allowed me the pleasure of savoring his screams of despair as I left the dungeon.”
He brushed his fingers over the amulet. “Thank you.”
Another shrug. “We all need our good luck charms.”
“What’s yours?”
She kissed the copper blade of the spear she held in her hand. “This.”
He nodded, then pointed above his head. “The chieftain has two guards on duty outside his private lair.”
“I can take care of them.”
He nodded. “I’ll surround us in darkness. We’ll be on them before they know we’re there.”
She flashed a smile. “You’re just a handy-dandy dude to have around, aren’t you?”
He sent her a dry smile. “Just stay close and don’t make a sound.”
“Got it.”
Releasing his powers, Basq wrapped them in a small cocoon of darkness and headed around the curve. Chaaya was pressed tight against his back as he took the last steps to the top of the turret.
Once they were in striking distance, Chaaya stabbed her spear through the heart of the largest guard and was turning to deal with the second one before the first hit the floor. Basq concentrated on silently pressing open the door and stepping inside to make sure there were no other warriors waiting for them.
A quick glance revealed a cavernous room shrouded in shadows. There was a domed ceiling with intricate frescoes and walls that were lined with glass cabinets filled with treasures. Gems, coins, golden goblets. And in the center of the marble floor was a large bed draped in maroon satin. No guards.
Basq moved forward, his fangs lengthening at the scent of brownie that drenched the air. The chieftain was tucked beneath the covers. Just waiting to be killed. Very accommodating of him.
“Make sure no one sneaks up on us,” Basq whispered to Chaaya, who appeared next to him.
There was a brief hesitation before she turned to walk back to the door. No doubt she sensed his fierce need for revenge. He’d been humiliated by the damned brownie, something he didn’t forgive or forget.
Moving in silence, he reached the side of the bed just as the demon began to stir. Basq plunged the room into darkness. There was a rustle of satin, then a muttered curse as Dabbler realized he couldn’t see.
“Who’s there?” the brownie called out. “Rince?”
“Guess again,” Basq mocked.
There was a long silence. Was the male hoping this was nothing more than a nightmare? Probably.
“Leech?” Dabbler finally forced himself to speak. “What have you done? I’m blind.”
Basq’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the male’s neck. “Luckily you don’t need to see. Just listen.”
The male froze, smart enough to know his life was hanging in the balance. “What do you want?” he asked. “Money? Females? Males? Name your price.”
“Information.”
“Yes.” The sharp tang of sweat mixed with the earthy scent of the brownie, making Basq wrinkle his nose in distaste. “I have that,” Dabbler assured him.
“There’s a pureblooded Were in the city,” Basq said.
“A Were?” The chieftain pretended shock. “In my bulla?”
With casual ease, Basq tightened his grip on the male’s neck and lifted him off the bed.
“I can find her with your assistance, or I can find her without yo
u.” The temperature in the room plummeted and layers of frost coated the furnishings. “One means you’re still alive, the other means you’re dead.”
“Fine. Yes.” The brownie squirmed, the nasty stench of his sweat nearly overpowering. “The imp did mention the Were and some strange gargoyle creature.”
Basq continued to dangle the creature over the bed, restraining his fierce urge to rip out his throat. Capturing Brigette so he could return Chaaya to the safety of Vegas was more important than avenging his damaged pride.
“Where are they?” he demanded, his fingers digging deeper.
Dabbler squealed like a pig. “He claimed they were in the sewers,” he managed to choke out.
“And?”
“I sent my guards to fetch them, but they came back empty-handed. They said the sewers were empty.”
Basq cursed. He’d hoped the male could confirm the rumor that Brigette was hidden in the sewers as the imp had claimed. Instead he’d revealed that they were too late.
Again.
Infuriated, Basq pulled the brownie toward him, viciously pleased to feel the fear that quaked through the demon.
“So you can’t lead me to them.”
Dabbler didn’t miss the icy edge in Basq’s voice, or the threat of what would happen to him if he proved to be useless.
“No, I told you—” There was another piggy squeal as Basq pressed the tips of his fangs into the male’s flesh. He didn’t want to taste his blood. He could already smell the taint of drugs coursing through his veins. He was assuming it came from the incense that filled the palace with clouds of smoke. “Wait,” Dabbler pleaded.
“You just admitted you’re of no use to me.”
“I don’t know where the Were is, but I’ll have the guards scour the city until they find her.”
As if Basq would willingly hang around the palace waiting for the guards to wrap him in a silver net and tie it with a bow.
“Not good enough,” he growled. “I can scour the city myself. A lot quicker than your guards.”
“I can…” Dabbler’s words faded as the air thickened with Basq’s icy fury.
“Die,” Basq finished for him, fingers tightening until he could feel the slender bones begin to fracture.
Shades of Darkness Page 12
