“Santa madre.” Santiago turned back to glare at his beautiful companion. “Have you gone completely loco?”
Yes, Nefri silently answered the question.
In this moment she was fairly confident that she was at least skirting the edges of becoming loco. And had been since the moment she realized which vampire Styx had sent to spy on her.
What was it with this man? Granted, he was gorgeous. Breathtaking, mouthwatering, do-me-right-now gorgeous.
And powerful enough to challenge her despite the fact he wasn’t a clan chief.
And edible. Even when he was being stubborn and so aggravatingly arrogant she wanted to slug him in the nose, he made her think of running her hands over those hard muscles and tasting his warm Spanish blood.
But she’d met thousands of gorgeous, powerful, even sexy men over the past centuries and none of them had made her react like a . . . She swallowed a low growl. Why not admit it? She was reacting like a Harpy in heat.
And worse, he was all too aware of her vulnerability.
That knowledge only reinforced the need to get rid of him as soon as possible. As if ticking off the Oracles wasn’t reason enough.
At least her inner turmoil wasn’t visible as she met Santiago’s searing black gaze. “Excuse me?” she asked in the cool tones she knew set his fangs on edge.
He pointed a finger toward Levet. “Why are you traveling with that pest?”
She narrowed her gaze. “Please do not insult my companion.”
“Oui, do not insult her companion,” Levet muttered, moving to stand at her side with an offended sniff. “In case you missed the mammogram, I’m a hero.”
Santiago scowled. “Mammogram?”
“Memo,” Nefri corrected him. “Missed the memo.”
The exasperated male gave a shake of his head. “Are you being punished?”
“I didn’t think so.” She allowed her gaze to flick over his lean, muscular form, shown to perfection in his tight jeans. “Until now.”
Santiago muttered a curse. “There’s no need for him to be here.”
“That’s not your call.” She nodded toward the nearby doorway. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with Levet in private.”
It couldn’t be that easy.
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
“He can’t follow Gaius’s trail.”
Her lips thinned as she realized he’d so easily read her mind, but with a grim hold on her composure she turned her attention to the gargoyle as he stuck his tongue toward Santiago.
“For your information, I am a superb tracker.”
“Can you find him?” she asked softly.
“Given time,” Levet assured her, then with obvious embarrassment, wrinkled his ugly little snout. “Well, perhaps it will be more difficult than usual. The vampire somehow managed to have his . . . essence stripped. There’s no scent to follow.”
“There, you see,” Santiago mocked.
She turned back with a lift of her brow. “See what?”
“You need me.”
Oh . . . damn. She did.
Even the Oracles would agree there was nothing more vital than finding Gaius. And more importantly, what was currently controlling him.
Of course, she had to be sure that he could actually produce results before she agreed to anything.
“How do I know this is not a trick?” she demanded.
He scowled, as if offended by her question. “Why would I want to trick you?”
“Your male pride was obviously wounded by my return to my people without first gaining your approval.”
His lips curled back to expose his fangs. Like all males, he didn’t want to admit he might be unreasonable. “I’ll admit your disappearance annoyed me, but not because of my pride.” He deliberately paused. “It was the coward’s choice.”
A dangerous silence filled the kitchen, broken only by Levet’s gasp of shock.
“I . . . umm . . . I think I will go investigate the upstairs,” the tiny gargoyle muttered, his tail twitching as he hurried out of the kitchen.
Nefri and Santiago ignored his abrupt departure, both busy glaring at one another.
At last, Nefri found her voice. “Did you just call me a coward?”
Santiago didn’t so much as flinch at the lethal edge in her voice. Something she might have admired if she hadn’t been so infuriated.
“I said you made a coward’s choice,” he corrected her.
“Did you ever consider for one minute that my decision to leave had nothing to do with you?”
“No.”
“That I have duties that are more important than appeasing your ego?” she grimly continued.
“You—” Santiago bit off his words, hissing as the sharp stench of rotting flesh filled the air.
“Sacrebleu,” Levet called from above them. “You will want to see this.”
Santiago rolled his eyes heavenward. “Damn that gargoyle.”
Chapter 4
Styx’s lair north of Chicago
The vast mansion on the north side of Chicago looked more like a palace than a lair for one of the most powerful and feared vampires in the world.
There were acres of marble floors, sweeping staircases, and lofted ceilings that were painted with museum-grade artwork. The hallways were lined with fluted columns and shallow alcoves that held Grecian statues. The furnishings were straight out of Versailles and there was enough gilding to make a sensible demon shudder in horror.
The lower dungeons, however, were straight out of the Pentagon’s wet dreams.
Dug deep beneath the mansion, the spiderweb of cement corridors led to a variety of cells. Some lined with lead, others with steel, and still others with silver. And all of them heavily hexed to prevent even a spark of magic.
Which was a true pain in the ass for Sally Grace.
Standing in the center of the cell, the powerful witch considered all the bad decisions that had led to this particular moment. There were a number of them.
The decision to run instead of trying to kill her crazy-ass mother.
The decision to give in to the Dark Lord’s promises of power in return for becoming his servant.
The decision to help the vampire Gaius and his idiot cur partners in their attempts to capture the prophet and her Were protector.
All bad.
But nothing topped her latest.
Why the hell had she ever thought it would be a good idea to approach the King of Vampires?
Only a month ago she would have laughed at anyone who suggested she would be seeking out the Anasso. She was, after all, determined to lay low now the Dark Lord was dead and forget she knew anything about demons or witches or evil deities. In a few years she could change her name and start over. Only this time she intended to stay strictly among humans.
With that in mind she’d washed the black dye from her shoulder-length hair to reveal the deep red tresses streaked with gold that nature had intended for her. Her pale, almost fragile features were no longer marred with piercings or the black, goth makeup she’d used to disguise herself. In fact, her big brown eyes and full lips were devoid of cosmetics. Even her love for short skirts and barely there tops had been replaced by jeans and sweatshirts.
Then she’d disappeared into Gaius’s home in the Louisiana swamps. Why not? There were few places more isolated, and it wasn’t as if the vampire would need the place. Not after he’d been killed in the battle with the Dark Lord.
Everything should have been perfect.
Only it wasn’t perfect.
A week ago she’d returned to the house after a quick visit to the nearest grocery store to find that not only was Gaius alive, but he’d become a mindless, feral animal who was obviously protecting something or someone in the house.
Terrified by the vampire’s strange behavior, not to mention wanting him out of the house she’d claimed for herself, she’d retreated into the swamps and prepared a repulsion spell that should have worked on even the most powerful vampire.
She might hate her mother, but the bitch had trained her to brew some wicked black magic.
But once the spell was prepared and she’d crept back to the house to cast it during the power of the full moon, she’d discovered the house was being protected by a force that went beyond anything she’d felt before.
And that was saying something for a witch who’d been in the employ of an evil god.
Realizing there was something seriously weird going on, she had impulsively driven to this lair and demanded an audience with Styx. It was worth a try.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been for the powerful, lethally beautiful vampire to invite her into his private study where another vampire with long, silver hair and the face of a fallen angel had been standing in the corner. She’d somehow assumed she would be handed off to a flunky to deal with her concerns. But instead the two powerful demons had listened to her claims with a convincing display of interest.
Styx had murmured all the right words and even offered her a cup of her favorite tea. And she’d fallen for his faux sincerity hook, line, and sinker.
