“That's far enough.”
Ariyal stood motionless as the tall, slender Sylvermyst with long amber hair pulled into a queue at the nape of his neck and pewter eyes moved to stand directly before him.
Their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills before Ariyal acknowledged his brother with a faint dip of his head.
“Elwin.”
“Just slumming or has the mighty prince decided to join with the riffraff ?” the older Sylvermyst mocked.
“I don't join with traitors.”
Elwin's lips tightened, clearly annoyed by the sharp rebuff. But Ariyal didn't miss the fact the man didn't call for his bow or pull the sword holstered around his narrow waist.
“Then why the hell are you here?”
With a low hiss Toras shifted to stand next to Elwin, his pale gold eyes perfectly matching his hair, which had been cut to shoulder length.
“Can't you guess?” he growled.
Elwin paused; then his eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted from Ariyal to the silent Jaelyn.
“Mated,” he spat out. “To a leech?”
Toras pointed a finger of condemnation at Ariyal. “He's here to turn us over to the bloodsuckers.”
“And you call us the traitors?” Elwin sneered.
Ariyal leashed his burst of anger. Later he would teach his brothers the penalty of showing anything less than respect for his mate.
For now nothing mattered but getting them safely out of the caverns.
“I'm here as your prince to offer you safe passage out of these caves.”
“Straight into the arms of the vampires?” Elwin's hands fisted, a jaded distrust smoldering in his eyes. And who could blame him? He'd first been convinced to trust Morgana le Fey, and now he was trapped in the caves with a leader who verged on madness. Why wouldn't he assume that Ariyal intended to betray him? “You can't lie to usâwe know they're up there.”
“Yes.” There was no point in trying to lie. The vampires had made no effort to hide their presence. “They're preparing to rescue the child and to send the wizard back to hell. I requested they hold off their attack until I could speak with you.”
Toras snorted. “So now you're allies with the leeches?”
Ariyal shrugged. “For as long as it takes to halt the return of the Dark Lord.”
“Have you forgotten that he's our master?” Elwin demanded.
Ariyal didn't miss the edge in his brother's voice. Elwin might mouth the right words, but he was no longer drinking the Kool-Aid.
“I've forgotten nothing, which is why I intend to do whatever necessary to keep him banished from this world.” He paused to turn slowly, capturing each of his brothers' gazes until returning to Elwin. “I have no intention of bowing to another master ever again.”
A tense silence swelled through the cavern, the future hanging in balance.
Ariyal barely dared to breathe as he absorbed the mishmash of emotions that battered against him. The wariness, the fear, and the fragile hope that could be so easily destroyed. And running beneath it all, the steady comfort of Jaelyn's presence. Without saying a word she was assuring him that she had his back.
Always.
At long last Elwin cleared his throat. “Say that we're stupid enough to trust you, what happens to us?”
He waved a hand. “You're free.”
“Free?” The pewter eyes narrowed. “We can just walk away?”
“Yes.”
“What of our duty to you?” Toras demanded.
Ariyal arched a brow, every inch the prince they'd forced him to become.
“You have revealed yourself to be unworthy of my trust.” His voice held pinpricks of magic that reminded his brothers of his power. He hadn't become the leader of his tribe because of his winning personality. “If you wish to return to my tribe, then you must earn your place.”
The Sylvermyst shifted behind him, wise enough to realize that his words were hardly designed to lure them into a false sense of security.
Not that they were ready to jump on the bandwagon. Even if any of them knew what the hell a bandwagon was.
“This is a trick,” Toras muttered, proving his point.
Ariyal stepped toward the golden-haired Sylvermyst. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“No, butâshit!”
There was a sudden burst of magic that made the Sylvermysts gasp in pain and Jaelyn scowl in confusion.
“Ariyal,” she rasped, “what's happening?”
There was only one explanation.
“They've found the mage,” he muttered, grimly accepting that they'd run out of time. Things were about to go bad in a hurry. All he could do was salvage what he could.
“Elwin.”
The Sylvermyst snapped to attention at Ariyal's commanding tone. Some things were just instinct.
“Yes, sire?”
“Take the men and get the hell out of here.”
The man wavered, concern etched on his slender face. “What about the vampires?”
He reached to grab his brother's arm, holding his gaze. “You have my word they won't harm you so long as you don't do anything to provoke them. Will you trust me?”
Elwin paused, then gave a slow nod of agreement. “Yes.”
“Good.”
There was a collective surge of relief from the gathered Sylvermyst, as well as a barely leashed yearning to rush from the dark caves to breathe the fresh air. But Elwin didn't immediately leave the cavern. Instead he regarded Ariyal with a frown.
“What of you?”
“I have to get Tearloch and the child.”
Elwin gave a shake of his head. “He won't listen to you. He's under the thrall of the wizard.”
Ariyal shrugged. “No one gets left behind.”
Something shimmered in the pewter eyes before Elwin was abruptly dropping to his knees, his head bent in regret. In less than a heartbeat the rest of the tribe were also kneeling, their swords being drawn and tossed onto the stone floor in a gesture of surrender.
“My lord,” Toras breathed. “Forgive us.”
“We have all made mistakes,” Ariyal assured them. “Now we must hope that we can learn from them.”
Elwin lifted his head. “If we survive this, I pledge that I will do whatever you ask of me to return to our tribe.”
Reaching out, Ariyal firmly pulled the Sylvermyst to his feet, his expression somber.
“All I ask is that you take care of our brothers.”
“You have my word.”
Elwin placed a hand on Ariyal's shoulder in a silent pledge. Then with a sharp whistle he had the rest of the tribe on their feet and racing silently from the cavern.
With a silent prayer that they would make it out safely, Ariyal turned toward his mate, knowing better than to even suggest she join his tribesmen in their flight from the darkness.
He might not be Einstein, but he wasn't stupid.
“Are you ready?”
She held her sword in her hand, her fangs fully exposed. “Let's do this thing.”
Chapter 21
Jaelyn bit back her protests as Ariyal led them through the increasingly narrow tunnels that reeked of ambush.
A fighter never allowed herself to be cornered in cramped spaces. It was too difficult to maneuver for even the best trained warrior.
Unfortunately, while she couldn't sense the magical battle that must be happening ahead of them, she could feel Ariyal's pulsing urgency, which meant that haste had to overcome caution for now.
Not that it had to make her happy.
Concentrating on her duty to make certain nothing approached them from behind, Jaelyn was unprepared for Ariyal's abrupt halt.
Ramming into his hard back, she swiftly regained her balance, rubbing her nose as he turned to face her with a tense frown.
“What's wrong?”
“Listen,” he said softly.
Distantly she could hear the sound of Sergei and Rafael in a heated argument, the occasional shake of the tunnel warning her that they were doing far worse than merely throwing punches at one another.
If they weren't careful they would bring several tons of rock plummeting onto their heads.
Not the most pleasant thought.
But even as the image of being buried alive flashed through her mind, Ariyal's eyes were widening with a fear that had nothing to do with a cave-in.
“Ariyal?”
“The wizard,” he managed to rasp between clenched teeth.
“What about him?”
“He's started the ceremony.”
“Shit. We have to stop him.”
Ariyal shook his head. “It's too late.”
“No, it can't be.”
She moved to dart around him, only to be stymied as he caught her in his arms and began pushing her back down the tunnel.
“We have to get the hell out of here.”
“But ...”
“Dammit, Jaelyn, those idiots have created a rift between dimensions.”
“What does that mean?”
The question had barely tumbled from her lips when she caught sight of the white mist that was boiling through the tunnel, heading directly toward them.
“Hold on,” Ariyal commanded, pressing her head against his chest as the mist surrounded them, seeming to suck them forward with a ruthless force.
She focused on the feel of her mate's hard body pressed against her as the world melted away. It would be terrifyingly easy to become lost and disoriented in the thick fog.
After what might have been a few minutes or an eternity, the sense of movement came to a halt. Tentatively, Jaelyn pushed away from Ariyal, studying the walls of mist that appeared to go on forever.
“This isn't good.” She pointed out the obvious.
“No.”
Ariyal pulled his sword as Jaelyn sent out her senses to probe the fog.
She wasn't an expert on alien dimensions. Her varied training had included many things, but vampires weren't intended to travel from world to world. Not unless they happened to be ancient Immortal Ones.
But she did know enough to realize that this wasn't typical.
In fact, she would guess that they were standing in the strange place between dimensions, not actually in one or the other.
Not the most comforting thought.
And it was becoming even less comforting as she caught the distinct scent of the wizard in the distance.
“We aren't alone,” she breathed softly, uncertain how sound would travel in the mists.
Everything seemed ... muffled, but she wasn't going to take unnecessary risks.
“Where?” Ariyal demanded, his voice equally low.
She hesitated, struggling to get her bearings before at last pointing to a spot over his shoulder.
“That way.”
Ariyal didn't hesitate, turning to flow through the mists in the direction she'd indicated. Following in his wake, Jaelyn felt warmth spread through her heart at his absolute faith in her abilities.
That trust was as precious to her as his unconditional love.
They moved in silence, the strange mist swirling around them.
Or at least she assumed they were moving, she acknowledged with a grimace.
Their feet were stepping forward.
And there was a faint breeze she could see stirring the loose fabric of Ariyal's shirt.
But the landscape remained shrouded behind a fog that made it impossible to determine if they were making progress or running in place.
Refusing to consider the horrifying thought that they might be eternally trapped in the smothering mist, Jaelyn forced herself to latch on to her strengthening awareness of Rafael. Moving or not, they were growing ever closer to the wizard.
Which had to be a good sign, didn't it?
“He's near,” she warned softly.
Ariyal slowed, his sword held ready. “Can you tell if he has the child?”
She shook her head. “No. If the babe is here it's still wrapped in the spell that prevents me from being able to track it.”
Ariyal's lips parted, but before he could speak, a form abruptly appeared out of the fog, standing directly in their path.
Tearloch.
No, not Tearloch, she silently corrected, catching sight of the Sylvermyst's eyes.
The beautiful silver had been consumed by a crimson that smoldered like the fiery pits of hell. A sure sign that he had become a mere puppet to a powerful being.
Her nose wrinkled. Even his scent had been overwhelmed by the acrid stench of brimstone that made Jaelyn's stomach churn in revulsion.
Without expression he held up his hand in warning. “Stop.”
Ariyal studied his tribesman with a wary frown. “Tearloch ?”
“You may go no farther.”
“Tearloch, can you hear me?” Ariyal took a step forward. “Brother?”
The Sylvermyst didn't respond. Hell, he might as well have been a lamppost for all the reaction he gave to Ariyal's plea.
Not that he it made him any less dangerous.
Jaelyn reached to lightly touch her mate's arm. “He's completely enthralled. Could the wizard do this?”
“Not without help. Only the Dark Lord could so completely crush his mind.”
It was the answer she'd expected, but that didn't prevent the sharp stab of unease.
Who wouldn't be a little antsy at the thought of the ultimate evil creeping around in the fog?
“Great.” She swallowed a curse as she sensed the wizard moving deeper into the mists. She couldn't allow him to escape. Who knew if she'd ever be able to track him in the damned fog if she lost his scent? “Can you keep him distracted ?”
The bronzed eyes shimmered with frustration as he glanced in her direction.
“Jaelyn.”
She sent him a warning frown. They didn't have time to squabble over whether she was going to put herself in danger or not.
“Can you do it or not?”
“Yes,” he grudgingly conceded. “Just don't ...”
“Do anything stupid.” She finished for him, reaching up to steal a swift, possessive kiss. “Ditto.”
“Ditto?”
Stepping back, Jaelyn pointed toward the motionless Tearloch.
“Right now he's your enemy, not your brother,” she reminded him. “Don't let yourself be fooled into feeling pity for him.”
Ariyal grimaced, but there was a grim determination etched onto his beautiful face.
“I'll do what I have to do.”
She felt his bleak regret as he leaped forward, his sword slashing through the air directly at Tearloch's vulnerable throat.
Mindlessly Tearloch met the strike with his own sword, fighting back with an obvious skill.
Jaelyn forced herself to ignore the instinct to join in the battle and plunged into the surrounding fog. She demanded that Ariyal trust her ability to take care of herself. How could she offer him any less?
Even if leaving did suck.
Big time.
The ringing of steel on steel began to dim behind her as she moved steadily through the white landscape. Dammit. Where was the bastard?
She continued on for what felt like miles before a sudden prickle of energy rippled through the mists and she came to a sharp halt, her senses on full alert.
“Who's there?” she demanded, her feet spread in a fighting stance. “Wizard? Show yourself.”
On cue Rafael stepped out of the fog, his robes flowing around his thin body and his bald head shimmering in the odd light.
“Welcome, vampire.” A sneer twisted the gaunt face. “I was hoping that it was Dante approaching, but I suppose you will suffice.”
“He's already put you in your grave once,” she mocked, her tongue stroking down a massive fang. “It's my turn.”
His thin lip twisted with a hatred that burned in his crimson eyes.
“I do not know what I dislike more, the sheer conceit of vampires, or females who do not know their proper place.”
Jaelyn made a sound of disgust.
A male chauvinistic pig.
Why wasn't she surprised?
“Come closer and I'll show you the proper place of my foot,” she promised sweetly. “A hint ... it's up your ass.”
His spiderlike fingers stroked the pendant hung around his skinny neck.
“You cannot defeat me. Not here.”
The suspicion that he wasn't just blowing air out of his ass curdled in the pit of her stomach.
She could actually feel the force of his power throbbing in the air around him.
“And why is that?” she demanded, more in an effort to gain some time than any true interest.
If she couldn't find some Achilles' heel then she was in a shitload of trouble.
“In this place the power of the Dark Lord pumps through my veins.”
With a demented smile the wizard pulled back the sleeve of his robe and used a fingernail to slice through his brittle skin. Instantly a thick, gray sludge filled the wound; then slowly it dripped down his arm.
Jaelyn stepped back before she could halt the revealing movement.
She'd seen a lot of
ewww
things in her life, but that vile slime was right at the top of this list.
“God almighty,” she breathed. “You do know you're insanely creepy, don't you?”
His smile widened as he lifted his arm and licked the sludge off his skin, smacking his lips as she shuddered in horror.
“I shall enjoy making you scream.”
The jackass no doubt intended the taunt to rattle her further. Thankfully the familiar words only jerked her out of her mesmerized sense of horror.
She'd promised herself a long time ago that when she met her death it wouldn't be with a damned whimper.
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“I am not at all surprised.” The wizard gave a casual flick of his hand. “The Sylvermyst must be desperate for a mate to have chosen you.”
Unable to sense the magical attack, Jaelyn was unprepared as the sensation of a fist slamming into her chin sent her flying backward.
“Damn,” she muttered, flowing to her feet and glaring at her opponent.
“Not quite so confident now, my dear?” he mocked.
She managed a grin despite her shattered jaw. She wasn't going to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
“We can chitchat or we can fight.” She shrugged. “Your call.”
Anger rippled over his face as he lifted his hand once again, but this time Jaelyn was prepared. Even as he sent a blast of magic in her direction she was flowing to the side, kicking out to crack his ribs.
He hissed in shock, but with a movement faster than she would have believed possible he was turning to hit her with another explosion of power.
Jaelyn's teeth rattled as she struggled to stay on her feet, the magic slicing a hundred tiny cuts in her skin as it blew past her.
The smile returned to the wizard's lips. “Obviously the rumors of the near-mystical powers of the Hunter were grossly exaggerated.”
“You think?”
She flowed with blinding speed behind him, her claws raking deep wounds through his robes and into the flesh of his back.
“Bitch,” he snapped, barely seeming to notice the nasty gray sludge that oozed down his back. “This is my favorite robe.”