Fear the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity) (38 page)

She tilted her head, looking like an inquisitive bird. “Would a kiss take away that frown?”

A kiss?

His heart gave one of those flutters, his blood heating at the mere thought of pulling her tiny body into his arms and tasting her brimstone passion. He had waited so long.

“It might—” He snapped his lips together.
Mon Dieu
. She had nearly done it to him again. “
Non
. This is no time for your games.”

She pouted, but catching sight of his sour expression, she heaved a sigh. “Perhaps you’re right.”

He glanced around the shadowed garden, half expecting Yannah’s mother to be hiding among the hedges. Which was ridiculous. Siljar was an Oracle, not a thief that skulked in the bushes. Not to mention the pertinent fact, she had the sort of power signature that could crush at a hundred paces.

If she was nearby, he would know.

He returned his attention to the tiny female who moved to stand in front of him, her white robe long enough to brush the paving stones. “Why are you here?”

“I sensed your unhappiness.” She reached to gently stroke the tip of one stunted horn. “Tell me.”

“I’ve done something I will never forgive myself for,” he shocked himself by admitting.

It had nothing to do with her soft touch or the hint of sympathy in her dark eyes, he assured himself. He wasn’t that easily manipulated.

It was just . . . he needed someone to talk to.

Anyone would do. Even the marble statue of Neptune that spouted water out of his head.

Yeah, that was it.

“Ah.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’ve called for the Goddess of Light.”

Levet didn’t bother to ask how the female knew he’d used his magic to speak directly into Abby’s mind. Or that he’d urged her to travel to the rift. Yannah had more than one mysterious talent.

“
Oui
.”

“Why does that trouble you?” Yannah frowned, obviously puzzled by his distress. “It’s the purpose of the Phoenix to stand against the tide of darkness.”

“Because the Phoenix will not be charging into the battle alone,” Levet said, his wings drooping at the mere thought of sweet, oh-so-fragile Abby standing face-to-face with the Dark Lord. “The spirit will take
ma chérie amie
along for the outing.”

Yannah gave a faint shake of her head. “You mean along for the ride?”

“That is what I said, is it not?” he asked with an impatient frown.

“Yes, well, it’s a time of change.” Yannah tried to soothe. “We’re all called to do our duty, whether we like it or not.”

Levet pulled away from her distracting touch, pacing the distance between two ornate urns. “Well, I do not like it,” he muttered, his tail whipping behind him. “I do not like it at all.”

“Please stop, Levet,” Yannah pleaded. “You’re making my head spin.”

“
Bien
.” He came to a halt. Not because that’s what she wanted. But how else could he send her a warning glare? “You have been making my head spin from the moment we met.” He pointed a claw in her direction. “And, you punched me.”

“It was a love-tap.”

Levet made a sound of disbelief. “Love-tap? You broke my jaw.”

“Do you want an apology?”

What he wanted was for her to kiss and make it better, a renegade voice whispered.

Kiss him over and over and over.

And not just on the jaw.

They could slip into the grotto where they would be all alone. He could at last indulge in the fantasies that had plagued him for weeks.

Non
.
Non
.
Non
.

He folded his arms over his chest, just like he’d seen Styx do when he wanted to be an intimidating badass. “I want to be left in peace.”

Yannah studied him, the dark gaze unnerving in its intensity. “This is more than guilt at calling your friend into danger, isn’t it?”

He started to deny her ridiculous accusation only to find the words dying on his lips. Against his will his gaze shifted to the mansion where he could hear the rumble of vampires and Weres shouting orders.

“They are preparing for war while I am condemned to the gardens. You see, my skills are”—he searched for the appropriate word—“lacking.”

Yannah regarded him with a shocked confusion that seemed genuine. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“No.” She gave a fierce shake of her head, the braid swinging from side to side. “It’s not true.”

Any other night Levet would have reveled in her fierce defense. Why not? He’d tried every trick possible to capture her attention only to be dismissed, abandoned, and forgotten.

Tonight, however, he’d been brutally reminded of his numerous inadequacies. With a grimace, he glanced down at his stunted body. “Look at me.”

“I have looked,” she assured him. “More than once.”

He lifted his head with a scowl. “If I were one of my brothers they would beg for my assistance. I would be a powerful warrior with magic that would make even the Dark Lord tremble in fear.”

She slowly stepped forward, her hands folded at her waist and the moonlight pooling around her. Despite her tiny size, she looked as regal as any queen.

“No, Levet,” she said, her voice oddly somber. “If you were one of your brothers you would be hibernating in your lair waiting to offer your loyalty to whoever comes out the winner.”

It wasn’t at all what he’d expected and his pity party was suddenly deflated as effectively as if she’d stuck a pin in a balloon.

She was right. From all reports his brethren had retreated beneath the streets of Paris, ignoring Styx’s call for demons to stand against the Dark Lord. Like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Gargoyles were infamous for bowing to whoever sat on the throne. Loyalty was not a word in their vocabulary.

“I suppose that’s true,” he slowly agreed.

She reached to place her hands on his shoulders, standing close enough he could feel the pulse of her power surrounding him.

“Besides, you have a weapon far more important than muscles or magic.”

Levet found himself lost in the compelling darkness of her eyes. “What weapon?”

“A heart.” Her hand moved to rest in the center of his chest. “The one power that can’t be defeated by evil.”

Chapter 24

The Dark Lord’s prison

Gaius seriously underestimated the instinctive desire of any creature for survival.

He’d been convinced that he had nothing left to hope for. Nothing left but bitter regret and endless days of wishing for a swift death that would at last reunite him with Dara.

But the moment the Dark Lord had turned her attention to creating further rifts, he found his feet carrying himself forward, scouring the godforsaken surroundings for a way to escape.

A frustrating, not to mention, futile waste of time.

Although he still had his medallion, he discovered it no longer obeyed his commands. Not surprising. The Dark Lord wasn’t stupid. She knew he would disappear at the first opportunity.

And while he could sense the doorways she’d ripped through the veils, and occasionally catch the scent of demons as they sought to use the openings to spill from their particular hell dimension, he couldn’t push his way through them.

Perhaps this was his punishment.

To be trapped with the Dark Lord, all the while knowing that freedom lurked just out of reach.

It seemed fitting.

Standing near a stunted tree, Gaius flinched as a flare of heat seared over him, threatening to melt the flesh from his bones.

“Gaius.”

He didn’t want to turn. Not only because he was weary of her taunting, but because it made him nauseous to watch the strange spirit flickering around her.

But what he did or didn’t want no longer mattered. Not since he’d bartered away his soul.

With a slow movement, he stepped around the dead tree and faced the female eyeing him with petulant displeasure. “Yes, Mistress?”

Her eyes smoldered with crimson fire while the misty outline of the Gemini haloed her slender body. “Were you hiding from me?” she demanded.

He wryly glanced around the empty landscape. “Where would I go?”

“I don’t know, but you were plotting something,” she accused. “I can sense it.”

He stoically refused to react. Instead, he tried for a distraction. “Was there something you needed?”

There was a pause before she dismissed any thought of him with a wave of her hand. “The transformation should be complete,” she complained. The lion’s head flickered in and out of focus just behind her, as if being shorted out by some unseen electrical charge.

“Perhaps another sacrifice is needed.”

“No,” she glared at him with malevolent annoyance. As if the spirit’s refusal to complete the binding was his fault. “There is something interfering. Or someone.”

He took an instinctive step backward. “You can’t think that I—”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “Despite the treachery you harbor in your heart, you don’t possess the power to halt my inevitable victory.”

His lips twisted. All true.

Humiliatingly true.

“There’s no one else here.” He pointed out the obvious.

“Which means the interference must be coming from one of the rifts.”

Gaius was motionless, his mind shifting through the unexpected revelation. Of all the possibilities he’d considered, he’d never once given thought to an outside force being able to penetrate this hellhole.

A gift. One he’d have to use with great care.

“Then close them,” he offered the suggestion that she would be expecting. Anything else would immediately rouse her suspicions.

She reached to grasp his arm, branding him with her touch. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He bowed his head, clenching his teeth against the blazing pain. “My only concern is for your welfare.”

“Your only concern is saving your own skin. Pathetic worm.”

“How can I prove my loyalty?”

“You can’t.”

Abruptly releasing his arm, the Dark Lord turned her attention to the vast expanse of nothingness bathed in a sickly yellow glow, holding out her hand as she walked forward.

Gaius fell into step behind her. Why would she have sought him out if she didn’t want him to play devoted slave? But he was careful not to brush against the shadowy figure that surrounded her.

The thing was . . . unnerving.

They moved in heavy silence, their steps sending up tiny clouds of choking dust. Absently, Gaius wondered if this desolate land had been lurking beneath the white mists, or if the Dark Lord’s almost-transformation had blasted it to this current wasteland.

Not that it mattered. One was as bad as the other.

Without warning, the Dark Lord came to an abrupt halt, her outstretched hand clenching into a fist. “It’s here.”

“Here” looked exactly the same as “there,” but Gaius’s disinterest was shaken as he caught an unmistakable scent drift through the thick air.

“Vampires,” he muttered in shock, stepping closer to the elusive smell. “Could they be causing the disruption?”

“Don’t be stupid,” she hissed in fury. “Vampires are no match for me. As you’ve discovered.”

He grimaced as her insult slid home. “Then what is?”

She dropped her hand, the halo around her seeming to fade to dull shadow.

“The Phoenix.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “The Goddess of Light?”

“Ridiculous name.”

Gaius barely heard her muttered complaint. Over the centuries, he’d listened to the Dark Lord’s bitter complaints about the powerful spirit that kept him locked in his prison. But since the Dark Lord’s resurrection into a new body, and with the threat of the looming transformation into the Gemini, Gaius had assumed that the Phoenix would go into hiding.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, you idiot.” A sudden wind whipped around Gaius as the Dark Lord struggled to leash her temper. “Do you think I wouldn’t recognize the bitch who stripped me of my powers and trapped me in this hell?”

He shook his head. “Why would she be so close to the opening?”

The crimson eyes flamed with an emotion that went beyond fury to mindless rage. “She’s obviously arrogant enough to believe she can keep me trapped.”

Gaius deliberately smoothed his expression to a bland mask. The Phoenix had the evil deity twitching.

So how did he take advantage of the unexpected gift?

Carefully
, a voice warned in the back of his mind.

“Or . . .” He snapped his lips together, as if regretting what he was about to say.

As expected, the Dark Lord turned to stab him with a fiery glare. “What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

Gaius grunted in pain as the Dark Lord grasped his chin in a grip that crushed his bones. “Tell me, leech.”

He paused. He couldn’t overplay his hand. A hint. A vague suggestion. A pretense he was trying to lead her in one direction so she would bolt in toward the opposite. Just like a spoiled child.

“I can’t believe they would bring the goddess so close unless they’re convinced they could defeat you,” he said as if the words were being pulled out of him. “Styx is an arrogant son of a bitch, but he isn’t the sort of leader to make empty gestures.”

“Defeat me?” The pretty features that should never have been on the face of such an evil bitch flushed with ugly outrage. “Impossible.”

The agony of his shattered chin made it difficult to speak. “If you say so.”

The crimson eyes narrowed. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Do?”

“You’re trying to trick me into closing the rift.”

“Certainly I am. My fate is now tied to yours.” He said, his words holding enough truth to sound sincere. “If you’re destroyed by the Goddess of Light, then my brothers will spend the rest of eternity making certain I regret my betrayals.”

She released her crushing hold, the shadow surrounding her shifting in and out of focus. “My return can’t be halted,” she muttered, speaking more to herself than Gaius. “Not now. I’m too close.”

Gaius narrowed his gaze at her stubborn insistence. His initial thought had been to keep her distracted long enough for the Goddess of Light to work her magic. Who knew? He might get lucky enough to slip away unnoticed.