When Darkness Ends (24 page)

Just a few months ago she'd been held captive by a crazy-ass vampire spirit and nearly lost her mind. The mere thought of being trapped again was enough to make her shudder with horror.

But oddly, she was having trouble remembering that she was stuck in an elaborate spell.

Perhaps it was the cloudless blue sky and the rolling meadow filled with flowers. It was hard to feel threatened when in a setting more suitable for a Disney movie than a prison.

Or more likely it was the man standing at the edge of the blanket, his eyes closed as he concentrated on trying to break through the illusion.

Prince Magnus.

Tonya shook her head, a wry smile touching her lips.

The Chatri male continued to bewilder her. One minute he was an arrogant jackass whom she wanted to slap, and the next he was making her melt with his kisses.

She wanted to believe her fascination was nothing more than the predictable reaction of a woman who was forced to be in the constant company of a handsome, occasionally charming male.

After all, she'd wasted years thinking she was in love with her vampire employer, Santiago.

Unfortunately she wasn't stupid.

Sure, she'd felt a mild affection for Santiago. He was a gorgeous, sexy, über-alpha predator. Just the sort of male to make a female's pulse go pitter-patter.

But with Magnus . . .

Her nose wrinkled.

Hell, most of the time she didn't know what she felt, but she did know that the thought of him returning to his home and leaving her behind was enough to make her heart twist with a savage pain.

Christ.

Slowly rising to her feet, Tonya was at the point of wandering toward the babbling brook when an electric charge filled the air.

She turned to watch as Magnus snapped open his eyes, his slender body stiff with surprise.

“What is that?” she demanded, her voice low enough to avoid being carried on the soft breeze.

“A portal has opened.” Then, reaching to grasp her hand, he was tugging her along a pathway that magically appeared directly in front of them. “This way.”

She swiftly fell into place beside Magnus, her eyes widening.

“Levet,” she muttered in surprise.

Magnus glanced at her in confusion. “Gargoyles can't travel by portal.”

She shrugged. There was no mistaking the distinct scent of granite.

“Someone must have brought him.”

He slowed his pace, his hair shimmering like the finest rubies in the sunlight.

God . . . he was a gorgeous beast.

“Yes,” he murmured, his expression distracted. “Fallon.”

Tonya sucked in a sharp breath. The mere mention of the princess was enough to make her gut twist with jealousy.

Childish?

Of course.

But there didn't seem much she could do to change her reaction.

“She's here?”

He gave a slow shake of his head. “No. Strange.” The pathway abruptly came to a halt as a large patch of daisies appeared complete with a tiny gargoyle soundly asleep in the middle of the white blooms.

“Gargoyle.” Magnus reached out his foot to nudge the slumbering Levet with the tip of his leather boot. “Wake up.”

Tonya frowned. “Don't gargoyles sleep when it's sunny?”

“This is an illusion,” the prince reminded her, reaching down to grab Levet by one stunted horn. “The sun has no effect on him.”

“There's no need to be rude,” Tonya muttered as Magnus gave the dangling creature a sharp shake.

Magnus curled his lips. “I do not like him.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual, fairy,” a groggy Levet retorted, opening his gray eyes to glare at the man holding him several feet off the ground.

“Chatri,” Magnus snapped. “How did you get here?”

“Fallon,” Levet answered. “She opened a portal.”

Magnus pulled his brows together. “Why?”

Levet struggled to free himself from Magnus's grasp, his wings fluttering in outrage.

“To search for you.”

The prince swore beneath his breath. “Who allowed her to put herself in such danger?”

Levet folded his arms over his tiny chest, a stubborn expression on his ugly features.

“Release me.”

Magnus scowled, but with a flick of his hand he dropped the gargoyle onto the pathway.

“Answer my question,” he commanded, barely waiting for Levet to regain his balance. “Who gave her permission?”

“I do not believe she asked for permission.” Levet grabbed his tail, carefully wiping the dust from the tip. “Indeed, she insisted that she was capable of making her own decisions.”

“She has been in this world too long,” Magnus muttered, ignoring the woman at his side. “She has forgotten what it means to be a Chatri princess.”

Tonya clenched her teeth at the stiff words, her heart feeling as if it were being crushed.

Dammit.

Just a few days ago she would have assumed that they implied that the prince was a cold, egotistical bastard. Now she understood that Magnus preferred to hide his emotions behind the façade of royal arrogance.

The more he felt, the more fiercely he pretended indifference.

He was truly frightened for the young female.

Which was admirable, she grimly told herself. Of course it was. But if he was still in love with the perfect princess, then why wasn't he with her?

And why the hell didn't he keep his lips to himself?

Not nearly so self-contained, Tonya pulled back her arm and punched him in the center of his chest.

“You . . . jerk.”

Magnus blinked, clearly more astonished than hurt by the blow.

“You struck me.”

Tonya planted her hands on her hips. The man was staring at her as if she'd grown a second head.

Not surprising. She'd bet good money she was the first woman who'd ever dared to raise a hand to his royal perfectness.

“You're lucky I didn't kick you in the nuts.”

Levet dropped his tail and moved to stand at her side.

“Truly, you are lucky,” he assured Magnus. “I witnessed her make a grown orc cry with just the heel of her stiletto.” He paused to give a dramatic shudder. “It was terrifying.”

Tonya tilted her chin. She'd taken pride in her ability to defend herself when the drunken orc had tried to rape her. Prince Magnus, on the other hand, would expect her to give a womanly scream and hope that some big, powerful male came rushing to her rescue.

That was no doubt what a proper Chatri princess would do.

“I suppose you're horrified?” she challenged. “A woman shouldn't be strong enough to take care of herself.”

A mixture of emotions flashed through the cognac eyes, his pale skin flushing.

Was he . . . embarrassed?

“You are not a royal princess,” he at last said in a tight voice. “You are not expected to—”

“You should shut up now,” Levet said with a grimace.

“Listen to Levet,” she warned as Magnus glared at the tiny creature.

Not entirely stupid, the prince hastily veered the conversation away from his chauvinistic views of women.

“Where is Fallon now?”

“I am not certain.” Levet's brilliant wings drooped as he stared at a small scorch mark near the daisies. “She was to follow your portal to bring me here, then she was expected to return to the Anasso's lair. But there was an explosion.”

Tonya pressed a hand to her throat. Oh shit. She might be sick to death of hearing about the perfect Princess Fallon, but she would never wish her harm.

“What kind of explosion?” she demanded.

Levet touched a small wound on his shoulder that was rapidly healing.

“Magical.”

“Damn,” Magnus muttered.

Tonya instinctively reached out to lightly touch his arm. She wasn't so petty that she couldn't sympathize with his fear that the woman he'd once intended to marry was seriously hurt.

“
Oui
.” Levet gave a sad nod. “I am not sure how badly Fallon and Cyn were injured.”

Magnus lifted his hand, using his power to search for the entrance to the portal.

“I can't find it,” he rasped.

Tonya watched him with concern. “Why not?”

“The portal collapsed.”

Levet gave a small gasp. “Then she must have escaped,
oui?
” There was an edge of pleading in his voice. “A portal cannot close while a fey is inside it.”

“We must believe she is well.” Magnus dropped his hand, his expression unreadable as he turned his attention to Levet. “Why were you sent?”

“The Anasso wanted me to track you.”

Predictably Magnus stiffened, his expression indignant. “Why?”

“To rescue you, of course.”

Tonya lifted a hand to hide her sudden smile. The prince was literally quivering with fury.

Not just because a vampire had dared to assume that he would need rescuing, but that he'd sent Levet to perform the deed.

“Styx sent a stunted gargoyle to rescue me?” he snarled.

“Hey. I am not stunted,” Levet protested, spreading his wings with blatant pride. “I am pleasingly compact. And my magic is
légendaire
.”

Magnus shook his head in disgust. “You are—”

Tonya hastily interrupted the brewing squabble. She'd had enough.

“Can you see through illusions?” she asked the gargoyle.

Easily distracted, Levet turned his attention to the sun-drenched meadows that surrounded them.

“Certainly,” he assured her before wrinkling his little snout. “These, however, are unusual.”

Magnus made a visible effort to control his annoyance. “It's a labyrinth,” he said in a flat voice.

Levet lifted his brows in surprise. “Druid?”

Magnus nodded. “Yes.”

“Ah.” Levet lifted his hands. “I have just the spell to break it.”

“No,” Tonya cried, all too familiar with Levet's dubious skill at magic.

She'd once seen him destroy a small warehouse when a pixie had dared him to prove he could create fireballs.

Unfortunately the word had barely left her lips when Levet released his spell only to have it smash against the walls of illusion and splinter with a resounding boom.

The earth shook, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground as tiny shards of magic shot over their heads like lethal missiles.

Tonya covered her head, waiting for the dust to settle before she at last glanced up to watch Magnus surge to his feet, his face tight with fury.

“What are you doing, you fool?” he grated.

Tail twitching, Levet shoved himself upright. “I am trying to get us out of here.” His wings fluttered. “Where is the love?”

“Love?” Magnus clenched his hands, painful pricks of heat filling the air as he obviously battled against the urge to melt Levet to a puddle of tar. “You nearly killed us.”

Tonya cautiously straightened as Levet gave a shrug. “
Bien
. Then you get us out.”

Magnus narrowed his gaze. “I assure you that I am perfectly capable of getting us out.” His lips flattened as the overly proud prince recalled he'd already devoted several fruitless hours to escaping the labyrinth. “Given time.”

“Wait,” Tonya breathed, her gaze captured by a silvery circle that hovered in midair. “What is that?”

“Ah ha,” Levet cried, pointing his claw toward the hole that was slowly growing larger. “You see.”

“See what?” she muttered, a chill inching down her spine as she caught sight of three shadowed forms that were headed directly toward the opening.

“I created a rip in the spell,” the gargoyle boasted, clearly proud of his accomplishment.

“Oh.” She shivered. There was something coming. And she wasn't entirely convinced it was a good thing.

“Yes, oh,” Magnus muttered, moving to wrap a protective arm around her shoulders. “Druids.”

Fallon stumbled forward as her portal opened directly into Cyn's massive foyer.

Instantly Cyn had wrapped an arm around her waist, his expression worried.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over her face.

Fallon resisted the urge to grimace. Unlike many of her sisters, she'd never been overly vain. It wasn't as if her beauty was anything exceptional among the Chatri.

But as Cyn's jade gaze lingered on the shadows of weariness beneath her eyes and his fingers gently combed through her tangled hair, she couldn't deny a pang of regret. She knew she looked like a bedraggled mess, while Cyn was as indecently gorgeous as ever.

He'd just fought hellhounds and a full-grown troll, but his hair was smooth as silk, the narrow braids framing his face without so much as a fleck of dust.

How was that fair?

“I'm fine,” she said, her lips twisted in a wry grimace as she glanced down at her clothes that were coated with muck. “I just need a hot bath and fresh clothing.”

His fingers lightly skimmed down her neck, an urgent hunger smoldering in the deep jade of his eyes.

“Or no clothing,” he murmured.

An answering need surged through her, the intensity of her desire overwhelming.

She wanted to shove him onto the floor of the foyer and rip off his clothes so she could explore every inch of that hard, male body with her lips.

Then she wanted to straddle him and . . .

Her breath caught as she forced herself to take a step back.

Not only was she shaken by the shocking images that were seared into her brain, but she remained acutely aware she was covered in filth.

Hardly sexy.

“I thought you were going to contact Styx?” she reminded him.

He grimaced, reluctantly pulling his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans.

“It won't take long,” he promised, placing a lingering kiss on her lips. “Keep the water warm.”

Fallon hurried to her rooms, her heart racing with anticipation. Cyn didn't have to worry about the temperature of the water. At the moment she was fairly certain her body heat could make it boil.

Lost in the delectable thought of sharing her bath with a very large, very naked vampire, Fallon allowed herself to be distracted.

A dangerous mistake she realized as she stepped into her room to discover a female vampire standing in the middle of the floor.

She froze, her gaze flicking over the stranger who looked completely harmless with her delicate features and big blue eyes. Not that Fallon was fooled for a second. Even at a distance she could sense the power that pulsed around the tiny figure that was barely covered by a pair of spandex pants and T-shirt that looked like it'd been painted on her.

Lise.

She recognized the scent from the first night they'd awoken at Cyn's lair.

Now Fallon narrowed her gaze as she studied the female's silky black hair that just brushed her shoulders and the exotic tilt to her blue eyes.

Of course the vampire was drop-dead gorgeous.

And no doubt she was completely independent with no need of anyone to help her kill a rabid troll.

The perfect partner for a clan chief.

Feeling distinctly grimy and at a total disadvantage, Fallon instinctively retreated behind her façade of Chatri princess.

“I don't recall inviting you into my room.”

The female offered a cold smile, her fingers deliberately stroking down the blade of the dagger she had holstered around her slender waist.

“Sorry.”

The insincerity was palpable.

“I doubt that.” Fallon folded her arms over her waist. A tiny voice in the back of her mind warned her that she should probably be terrified. It was obvious the vampire wasn't there for a social call. And if she'd decided that Fallon had overstayed her welcome, she could rip out her throat before Fallon could halt her. But it wasn't fear that she felt as she met the female glare for glare. “What do you want?”

Lise strolled forward, deliberately allowing her power to press against Fallon.

“A little woman to woman chat.”

Fallon refused to back away. She'd been raised among Chatri royalty.

If Lise wanted a bitch contest . . . it was on.

“What do we have to chat about?”

The woman arched a dark brow. Was she surprised that Fallon hadn't dropped to her knees and pleaded for mercy?

“Let's start with Cyn,” she drawled, her voice frigid.

Fallon scowled. “He claimed you weren't his lover.”

“I'm not, but he is my chief.”

“And,” Fallon prompted, knowing the relationship between Cyn and this female went way beyond simple clansmen.

“And he's the man who turned me from my path of self-destruction,” she reluctantly admitted, the words sounding as if they were wrenched from her lips. “If not for Cyn I would be dead by now.”

A portion of Fallon's resentment toward the female eased at the confession.

“He does have a savior complex,” she muttered, easily able to imagine Cyn rushing to the rescue of this fragile-looking female.

He just couldn't help himself.

The blue eyes remained hard. Obviously Lise wasn't interested in any girl bonding.

“He is a strong, loyal leader who is beloved by his people,” she rasped.

“He means a lot to you,” Fallon said. “I get it.”

Lise bared her snowy-white fangs. “No, you truly don't.”

Fallon held up a slender hand at the woman's foul temper. Yeesh.

“Fine. Then tell me.”

There was a tense silence, as if Lise was deciding between explaining her fierce loyalty to Cyn or just sticking the dagger in Fallon's heart. Thankfully the female landed on the side of explanations.

“Cyn has never been a typical chief.”

Fallon rolled her eyes. There was nothing at all typical about Cyn.

“Yeah, no surprise.”

Lise ignored her, instead pacing toward the large stained-glass window. Fallon grimaced, knowing that the female had deliberately insulted her by turning her back to her.

She was implying that she wasn't afraid of Fallon because she was too weak to be a real threat.

Bitch.

She was lucky that Fallon knew just how much Cyn depended on his top lieutenant. Otherwise she might just send a pulse of light to singe her perfect little ass.

Then she wouldn't be so damned smug.

Instead she bit her lip and ignored the rudeness.

To be honest, she wanted to know more about Cyn and his clan.

Even if it meant enduring the less than charming Lise.

“When he started his clan he didn't choose vampires who were the most dangerous warriors or who had skills that could bring him wealth,” Lise said, her finger tracing a small dragon that was nearly hidden among the ornate patterns in the glass.

“Then how did he choose them?”

“He took in those who needed his protection.”

“Oh.”

Fallon's heart melted. Just like that.

She'd spent most of her life surrounded by those who believed the pursuit of purity was the ultimate goal. They couldn't understand that the so-called “flaws” in the lesser fey were what made them so vital. So capable of embracing life with joy.

And so they'd locked themselves away in a virtual prison and convinced themselves that they weren't bored out of their minds.

Cyn clearly understood that it took more than big muscles or clever tricks to make a worthy clansman.

It took heart, and soul, and a willingness to put the needs of others before themselves.

Lise turned, a wry smile twisting her lips. “I tried over and over to convince him that it was a mistake. After all, gathering the weak and misfits would make us vulnerable to attack.”

“He can be somewhat stubborn,” Fallon said, feeling a ridiculous sense of pride in his refusal to sacrifice his principles. Almost as if she'd started thinking of Cyn as her own.

She hastily shoved aside the dangerous thought, grimly concentrating on her uninvited guest.

“Somewhat?” Lise gave a short laugh. “It's easier to budge the Cliffs of Moher than to force Cyn into changing his mind.”

“Why didn't you leave?”

“Because I owed Cyn my life. Besides—” The woman abruptly bit off her words.

“What?”

Lise leaned against the sill, looking all cool and badass.

Damn her.

“The vampires he collected might individually be less than the pick of the litter, but once we came together our talents melded to make us one of the wealthiest, most feared clans in all the world,” she said, her hand once again playing with the dagger at her side. “But it's a strength that comes from Cyn and the clan's unwavering loyalty to him. Without him we wouldn't survive.”

Suddenly Fallon had endured enough.

She was tired, filthy, and in no mood to be polite to a female who clearly considered her some sort of threat.

“Why are you telling me this?”

The blue eyes narrowed. “Because he's placing you above us.”

Fallon blinked at the unexpected accusation. “That's not true.”

“Of course it is,” she rasped, abruptly straightening to glare at Fallon with barely leashed anger. “He's been away from his clan for weeks.”

“That wasn't my fault.”

“But rather than taking his place as chief and reinforcing our bond as a clan, he's been pandering to your needs,” Lise continued, overriding Fallon's protest.

Pandering?

Fallon squared her shoulders. Enough. She didn't care what this female thought of her, but she'd be damned if she'd be blamed for Cyn's recent distraction.

“Not my needs,” she denied. “The needs of the Oracles.”

Lise gave a wave of her hand, dismissing Fallon's claim.

“You don't know Cyn very well if you think he would let some mystery duty to the Oracles come between him and the people he considers his own.”

Fallon shook her head. What was she being accused of? Enchanting Cyn with some mysterious magic?

“This is much bigger than you seem to believe,” she said in stiff tones.

The blue eyes were hard as sapphires. “Perhaps, but his preoccupation has nothing to do with duty and everything to do with a fairy.”

“Chatri,” Fallon snapped.

“I don't care.” Lise prowled forward, any pretense of civilization stripped away to reveal the dangerous predator beneath the pretty façade. “All that matters is what you intend to do with Cyn.”

Fallon stood her ground. One hint of weakness and the other woman would devour her.

“Do with him?” she demanded. “What does that mean?”

Lise halted directly in front of her. “If you intend to return to your homeland then you should go now.”

Fallon stiffened, as the vampire at last struck a raw nerve.

She had no homeland.

No place where she belonged.

“Not that it's any of your business, but I doubt I will be welcomed in my father's palace,” she said with a quiet dignity, struggling to disguise her aching sense of loss.

She wasn't going to allow the other female to see her vulnerable.

“Then you intend to stay here?” the woman pressed.

“In this world?”

Lise hissed in impatience, “In this lair.”

Fallon unconsciously lifted a hand to her throat, caught off guard by the piercing yearning that flooded through her.

“I don't . . .” A flush stained her cheeks at the realization of just how badly she wanted this lair to be her home. “I mean—”

“Decide,” Lise snapped.

Fallon abruptly crossed the floor toward the nightstand where she'd left a pitcher of nectar. Anything to hide her expression from the bitch's unnervingly shrewd gaze.

“What does it matter to you?” she muttered, troubled by the tangle of emotions that were twisted into a painful knot in the pit of her stomach. “Unless you hope to get rid of me so you can attract his attention.”

“Honey, if I wanted his attention, I would have it.”

Fallon snapped her head around, meeting the mocking blue gaze.

“Then what's your problem with me?” she demanded through gritted teeth.

The female squared her shoulders, at last revealing the reason she'd so rudely intruded into Fallon's room.

“A vampire mates only once.” There was a deliberate pause as Lise watched Fallon's mouth drop open with shock. “If you care for him at all you'll leave before—”

“Mate?” Fallon interrupted, the breath wrenched from her lungs. As in forever together, til death do us part? She gave an unconscious shake of her head, ignoring the violent thunder of her heartbeat. Cyn might be eager to have her in his bed. And of course he was driven by his need to protect her. But a mating . . . no. “That's impossible,” she breathed.

“So I assumed. After all these centuries I believed he was immune.” Lise allowed her gaze to flick over Fallon in blatant disgust. “Then you arrived and he can't seem to think of anything beyond bedding you.”

Heat stained Fallon's cheeks. She would never get used to the casual ease that most vampires discussed the most intimate subjects with.

“I'm not the first woman whom he's”—she stumbled for an appropriate word—“enjoyed.”

Lise sneered at Fallon, no doubt amused by her prudish awkwardness.

“No, but you're the first woman who has enthralled him,” she retorted, her power pushing against Fallon. Not enough to cause pain, but a definite warning. “So take him or leave him. It's not fair to steal his heart and then break it.”