Lots of fluted columns, arched windows, and carved friezes.
Not that Santiago was in the mood to appreciate the vaulted marble chamber that surrounded him, or the mosaic tiled floors, or even the thick hush that filled the ancient air, stirred only by rush of scurrying servants.
His entire body quivered from the unpleasant experience of being pulled through the Veil.
Dios.
For a few seconds he'd feared he might actually be ripped in two as he'd briefly hovered between two separate worlds. And then there had been the painful prickles of electricity that had nearly flayed the skin from his body.
It had lasted less than a few seconds, but it had been enough to convince him that it couldn't be the normal passage. Who the hell would ever travel to this place if it threatened to eviscerate them?
Pushing away from the gold-veined marble wall that had been keeping him upright, he glared at the female who stood in the center of the corridor.
“You did that on purpose,” he growled, as annoyed by the sight of her perfection as by the lingering weakness in his knees.
The raven hair flowed smoothly down her back, framing her exquisite, icily composed face. Her robes were unwrinkled, without a speck of dust. And her slender hand was infuriatingly steady as it stroked over the large medallion lying just over her unbeating heart.
Worse, he suspected there was a hint of amusement in the dark eyes as she regarded him with a faux air of innocence.
“Did what?”
“Yanking me through the Veil like I was a barnacle you were hoping to scrape off,” he snapped, his hand instinctively reaching to make sure his sword was safely stowed in the scabbard angled down his back.
She shrugged. “You were in no danger, I assure you.”
“No danger? I was nearly fried.”
Her dark brows lifted as his words bounced eerily among the forest of columns.
“Is anything hurt beyond your pride?”
“Do you care?”
“I will take that as a no.”
With a faint smile she crossed toward the nearest doorway, moving down the long corridor. Still seething, Santiago followed in her wake, barely noticing the occasional glimpses of vampires moving through the columns, or the doorways leading to libraries, antechambers, and a dozen other rooms, which they passed at a rapid pace.
He'd heard rumors of what was beyond the Veil.
Glorious buildings constructed by the finest artists all shrouded by constant night. An endless countryside that remained untainted by humans. Or even demons. Gardens that bloomed with flowers that had no need of the sun.
And no doubt the roads were made of gold and the rivers ran with honey, he silently mocked.
A regular Garden of Eden.
Without the serpent.
Or was it?
The same rumors he'd heard regarding the beauty of this world also hinted that while the vampires lived in peace, they had maintained ancient powers that had been lost to his brothers.
Shape-shifting, mist walking ... mind control over lesser vampires.
And now one of them might be determined to unleash hell on his world.
“You are being frighteningly quiet.” Nefri at last broke the silence, halting to study him with blatant suspicion.
A humorless smile curved his lips. “Just taking in the magnificent sight of Shangri-la.”
“This is my home, not a fabled paradise.”
He grimaced. Home? It felt like a mausoleum.
“You have a real thing for marble, don't you?”
She tilted her chin to a proud angle. “I enjoy beauty.”
Santiago stepped toward her, oddly annoyed by the sight of her standing there, so aloof and untouchable she didn't appear quite real.
“Cold perfection?” he taunted.
“I beg your pardon?”
He was moving before his brain could remind him just how stupid it was to provoke a vampire who was not only stronger than him, but whose own territory he was standing in.
While he was very much the outsider.
“True beauty should be untamed, even flawed,” he growled, one hand grasping her upper arm as the other lightly circled her slender neck, his thumb stroking the cool satin of her skin. “It should entice and entangle the senses.”
The dark eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
Now that was a good question.
A fan-fucking-tastic question.
“You had your fun” was his lame comeback.
He felt the cool rush of her power, but she made no move to pull away from his touch.
“What fun?” she inquired.
“You made the journey through the Veil as unpleasant as possible.”
There wasn't the smallest hint of apology on her pale, lovely face.
“I am unaccustomed to having a passenger.”
He snorted, not fooled for a minute.
“And you didn't enjoy watching me squirm?”
“I told you ...”
Deciding to be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, or whatever the hell the saying might be, Santiago tossed away the last of his common sense and leaned forward to halt her words through the simple process of kissing her.
“I know what you told me,” he whispered against her lips.
“Santiago.”
She pulled her head back, but not before Santiago tasted her fleeting response.
And was struck by lightning.
Perhaps not physical lightning that came from the sky. But it was just as potent and seared through him with far more damage than the traditional bolt.
Dios.
She tasted of exotic woman and forbidden pleasure.
His brooding gaze lingered on her parted lips, a heady desire pulsing through his body as his fingers continued to caress the bare skin of her throat.
“I like my name on your lips,” he said, his voice harsh in the still air.
“Halt this at once,” she commanded.
“Halt what?” He moved closer. “Touching you?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Like you, I appreciate beauty.”
The dark eyes flared with an indefinable emotion. “Does that mean you consider me flawed?”
He chuckled, his fingers drifting to trace the line of her jaw.
“Clever women are always the most dangerous.” He dipped his head down to nuzzle the corner of her surprisingly sensuous mouth. “And the most exciting.”
“Enough of this nonsense.” With an ease that scraped against Santiago's pride, she pushed him away, turning to resume her trek down the corridor. “I must speak with the Elders.”
With fluid speed he moved to block her path. “Do they know that we're here?”
She halted, her expression smoothed to an unreadable mask.
A certain sign she had something to hide.
“They would have sensed my return,” she admitted. “Even now they are gathering in the Great Hall.”
Santiago went rigid as he was struck by a nasty suspicion. “You can sense them as well?”
She was silent so long he thought she might refuse to answer. Then at last she gave a dip of her head.
“Yes.”
“Are they all accounted for?”
“What do you mean?”
“It's simple,” he rasped. “Have all the Elders gathered?”
“Not yet.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But there could be any number of reasons for their absence.”
He stepped toward her, his barely leashed anger making the torches that were set in shallow alcoves flare in reaction.
“What reason?”
She stood firm, even as her hair stirred from his swirling powers.
“You are here as my guest, Santiago,” she warned, the words coated in frost. “Do not make me regret having allowed you to travel with me.”
“Why are you avoiding my question?”
“I do not discuss our clan business with outsiders.”
“Outsider?” he hissed.
“Yes.”
Why did he find that word so insulting?
He sure the hell didn't want to be included in a clan of vampires who cared more for their precious desire to find a higher purpose than their own brothers.
“Have you forgotten that one of your clan might be a traitor ?” he snarled. “That makes it very much my business.”
Her lips tightened, but her composure remained intact as she moved to brush past him.
“I think it is best if you wait here for me.”
His hand shot out to grasp her upper arm, the sickening foreboding making him blind to the danger.
“Nefri.”
“Not now, Santiago.”
“What are you hiding from me?”
“I have told you.” She grudgingly turned to meet his hard gaze. “It is clan business.”
“It's Gaius, isn't it?” he charged, knowing that if he hadn't been watching her so closely he would have missed the slight flicker of her lashes. “He's the missing Elder.”
Naturally she refused to admit the truth.
Most vampires were talented in the art of deception and this was one seemed more skilled than most.
“Your bitterness toward your sire has made you incapable of thinking clearly.”
Santiago refused to be bluffed. “I'm thinking clearly enough to know that I'm right. Can you deny it?”
She averted her face, her profile revealing precisely nothing.
“Remain here.”
“So you can try and hide the truth?”
“Nothing will be hidden,” she attempted to assure him.
Did she really think he would just take her word for it?
He might not be an ancient, but he hadn't been turned yesterday.
“If you don't have anything to hide then there's no reason I can't come with you.”
“By all the gods.” The ice momentarily melted as she turned to stab him with a blazing gaze. “You truly are the most stubborn vampire.”
Chapter 19
Ariyal pulled his damp hair into a long braid as he stepped out of the upstairs bathroom of the farmhouse. Despite the lack of hot water, the shower had at least washed away the dirt from the caves. Not to mention his more recent activities in the cellar.
Wicked, decadent, extraordinary activities.
A smile curved his lips at the delicious memories of the day spent in the arms of his mate.
The past few hours had been a revelation.
After centuries of being trapped in a harem he would have sworn there was nothing that could shock him when it came to sex.
There wasn't anything he hadn't done.
A thousand times.
But being with Jaelyn wasn't just sex.
It was a connection so intimate that there had been moments when it felt as if they had truly discovered paradise.
Unfortunately, the day had eventually disappeared. Along with their excuse to linger in the cellar.
The wizard still held the child, and now Ariyal had to worry about the leeches that his mate had warned would be gathering for a full-out assault at midnight.
He understood, even applauded, her desire to rescue the child, but he intended to make sure that his people were protected from the approaching vampires.
Entering the bedroom, Ariyal pulled on his jeans and boots before tucking a dagger into a holster attached to his ankle. He was reaching for his sword when he sensed Jaelyn approaching the door.
She'd been oddly adamant when she'd announced she intended to search the house in hopes of finding a shirt for him to wear, muttering something about covering his bare chest. As if she wasn't strutting around half naked.
Watching as she stepped over the threshold, Ariyal was briefly distracted by her sheer beauty.
From the top of her glossy raven hair that had been pulled in a tight ponytail, to the tips of her bare toes, she was lethal elegance that made his heart race and his knees weak.
And, of course, there were the predictable manly parts that hardened in ready approval.
Lost in his silent appreciation, it took a moment to realize that she was holding up a gaudy yellow Hawaiian shirt with huge pink orchids splashed across the silk fabric.
His smile faded as folded his arms over his chest and scowled at the amusement that shimmered in her indigo eyes.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Hey, it was that or this.” She pulled her other hand from behind her back to reveal a frilly apron with the phrase
KISS THE COOK
splashed across the bib. “Take your pick.”
He snorted. “You did this on purpose.”
“Do you think I actually want my mate to look like an overgrown orchid?”
His irritation melted like dew beneath the summer sun. “Mate,” he murmured, moving to wrap her slender body in his arms. “I like the sound of that.”
She shivered as his lips found a tender spot just below her ear, but, dropping the offensive shirt and apron, she pressed her hands to his chest.
“So do I, but you're not going to distract me.”
“You mean distract you with this?” He stroked his lips down her throat. “Or this?” His hands gripped her hips to pull her against his growing erection.
She groaned, but arching back she stabbed him with a warning glare.
“Ariyal, you promised after your shower you would finish our discussion.”
“Discussion? Is that what you call it?”
“I was attempting to get you to listen to my perfectly logical suggestions.”
He nipped the lobe of her ear before grudgingly dropping his arms and stepping back.
He couldn't afford to be distracted. Not if he intended to win this particular argument.
“They sounded more like orders than suggestions, poppet,” he said dryly.
She folded her arms, her chin tilting to that familiar angle.
“Only because you refuse to be reasonable.”
“I don't call asking a Sylvermyst to sashay into a herd of waiting vampires reasonable,” he countered. “In fact, I would call it downright suicidal.”
“Sashay?” Her brows lifted. “Really?”
He held her gaze, his expression somber. “Jaelyn, I trust you with my very life, but don't expect me to extend that trust to your brothers. They've been my enemies for a very long time.”
She wasn't foolish enough to try and convince him that her fellow leeches were prepared to accept him into the family just because they were mated. He was more likely to believe they were plotting the quickest means to dispose of his body.
“You're a warrior,” she said with a shrug. “You know that there are times when you have to join forces for the greater good.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“Maybe not friend, but ...”
“Jaelyn, those Sylvermyst in the caves are my brothers,” he interrupted, his tone suddenly harsh.
Her expression softened. “I haven't forgotten.”
“Then you should understand why I'm not overly anxious to allow them to become dispensable fodder for the leeches.”
She moved forward, running her hands down his arms, her touch comforting as he was battered by the memory of his brothers being forced into slavery by the loathsome wizard.
“Styx is not a savage, Ariyal, although he is ...” She searched for the appropriate word. “Intimidating. He has no more desire than you do for a bloodbath.”
He didn't doubt the truth of her words. It was well known that the current Anasso was attempting to civilize his people. But he also knew that vampires were predators at heart and no command from their king was going to leash their natural impulses.
“Perhaps no desire, but once a battle has started all bets are off.”
Her fingers tightened on his arm. “We can't allow the child to remain with Tearloch. Eventually they're going to dig out the altar and resurrect the Dark Lord.”
“I know.”
She made a sound of impatience. “Talk to me, fairy. What are you plotting?”
“I want the opportunity to go into the caves before the vampires start their massacre.”
“No.” Her nails dug into his arm as she shook her head in denial. “It's too dangerous.”
Gently he extricated himself from her painful grip. He didn't want to lose an arm when he confessed his plan.
“I want to give my brothers the option to surrender.”
There was a hint of fang as Jaelyn regarded him with a growing frustration. She better than anyone understood his uncompromising need to protect his tribe.
“You think they will?” she slowly demanded.
“Yes, if I can speak with them,” he said, recalling the conversation he'd overheard. “They've lost their belief in Tearloch's cause, but they're terrified of the wizard. They'll join me if I can promise them a chance to escape as long as they aren't being threatened by vampires.”
“It's still too dangerous,” she muttered.
“They're my tribe, my family.” He knew she could feel his grim determination. “I can't abandon them to certain death.”
Her hands clenched, as if she was considering the possibility of locking him in the cellar. Then, bending down, she snatched the silk shirt off the floor and shoved it into his hand.
“I'll speak with Styx.”
He tugged on the shirt, more pissed by her words than the ridiculous garment.
As if he needed to ask permission from a damned bloodsucker.
“This is not his decision to make.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, we can all work together if no one tries to turn this into a pissing match.”
“Tell that to your Anasso.”
“I intend to.”
He halted his attempt to button the shirt, lifting his head to meet her steady gaze.
“You do?”
“Of course.”
Hmmm. His instincts prickled in warning.
That had been way too easy.
“And you aren't going to fight me on my decision?”
She averted her gaze, adjusting the shotgun strapped around her tiny waist.
“I try not to ram my head into brick walls.”
“Good.”
“But ...”
“Shit.” He shook his head. “I knew there was going to be a âbut.'”
“But, I doubt I can earn us more than a few minutes' head start.” She ignored his complaint, her head lifting to meet his resigned gaze. “So you'd better locate your tribesmen and convince them quick.”
His eyes narrowed in warning. “Us?”
“I'm your mate.” She lifted her hand to poke him in the center of his chest. “My place is at your side. No matter where you go.”
“You were just pointing out that it's too dangerous,” he said between clenched teeth.
“I also mentioned something about the futility of ramming your head into a brick wall.”
“Dammit, Jaelyn.”
“Come on, mate.” Turning, she headed out the door, ignoring Ariyal, who stomped behind her, blistering the air with his foul curses. “We don't want to be late.”
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Jaelyn had always suspected that males were lacking the DNA sequence necessary for rational thought. Why else would they be so eager to thump their chests and flash their fangs instead of calmly discussing a problem?
Now there was no doubt left.
What the opposite sex needed was a good thumping, she acknowledged, watching as the six vampires deliberately circled Ariyal, their expressions ranging from mocking derision to outright hatred.
She hadn't expected the meeting to be pleasant.
Or even polite.
But did they have to start off by being as obnoxious as possible?
The question had barely skimmed through her mind when Styx stepped forward, looking like a walking nightmare in black leather pants and black T-shirt that was stretched across his massive torso.
“Nice shirt,” he drawled to Ariyal, fondling the hilt of his huge sword.
Yep. As obnoxious as possible.
“Styx,” she hissed, moving to stand at the side of her mate, who was already holding his bow and wooden arrows notched and ready to fire. “All we're asking is a chance to convince Ariyal's tribesmen to leave the caves before you enter.”
The power of the Anasso was like a heavy throb in the air. “Why should I trust him?”
“Because I said you could.” She stood her ground, acutely aware of Ariyal's smoldering fury.
Gods, please don't let him do anything stupid.
“Do you trust me?”
Styx lifted a broad shoulder. “He's your mate.”
Her lips twisted. The vampires had sensed her mating with Ariyal the moment they'd approached the caves.
Which had only added to the tension.
“Yes, I know.”
The large vampire shifted his attention back to the silent Ariyal.
“Your loyalty now lies with the dark fairies.”
“You son of a bitch.”
She barely had time to place herself between her mate and certain death, slamming her hands against his chest to hold him in place.
“Ariyal, please.”
“He can say whatever he wants about me.”
“Thank you,” Styx drawled.
Annoying SOB.
“Shut up, leech,” Ariyal snarled, his gaze never leaving Jaelyn's pleading expression. “But he's not allowed to insult your honor.”
Her heart melted, even as she wanted to slug him for his stubbornness.
No one had ever defended her honor before.
No one.
“There's no insult in wanting to know if I'm about to be led into a trap,” Styx said without apology.
Ariyal placed his arm around Jaelyn's shoulders and tucked her close to his side.
“If you thought it was a trap then why the hell did you come?”
“When the Hunter approached me she hadn't yet bound herself to our enemy.”
“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Jaelyn snapped. “He's not our enemy. We all want the same thing.”
“Do we?” Styx demanded, his power brushing over her as if seeking the truth of her heart.