Darkness Avenged - Page 62/68

It was a place of meditation, which meant that no one would enter once they sensed her presence. Thank the gods. But she couldn’t hope that the spirit who had taken command of her body would be content to remain secluded.

Already she could feel her emotions being agitated by the creature, although she sensed he was still weakened. She had to get away from her people.

Or, if worst came to worst, she would have to end her life.

A small price to pay for the salvation of her clan.

Right. All very noble and completely worthless, she dryly concluded, as long as the spirit was in control of her body.

For the moment her only hope was that she could find a way to regain command. Or that Santiago would be able . . .

No.

The last thing she wanted was Santiago to be in danger.

If she tried to reach out for help it would be the Oracles. They were, after all, the ones who’d started this whole mess.

Trying to clear her mind enough to reach out mentally to Siljar, she was abruptly distracted as a vampire stepped in the room.

He was a short, bullishly built male with a bluntly carved face and silver hair that was pulled into a tight queue at his neck. Oddly, he was dressed in a velvet tunic and leggings that had been the fashion centuries ago, with a heavy war hammer clenched in one hand.

Holy hell.

She would have stumbled backward in shock if she’d been in control of her legs. As it was, she was forced to stand in frozen horror as her former master strolled to a halt directly before her.

“Ah, my blessed daughter.” Theo’s voice rumbled through the thick silence, his pale brown eyes shimmering with the same insatiable greed she remembered with acute revulsion. “At long last.”

“No,” she hissed. “You’re not real.”

He sneered with pleasure at her swelling fear. “Did you miss me, my beautiful Amazon?”

Miss him?

She’d put him in his grave.

How else was she ever to halt the devastation he was forcing her to wreak on innocents?

So many killings . . .

“You’re dead,” she managed to grit.

“Dead, but not forgotten.”

She felt her fear being shifted to fury, the emotion swelling through the air and spilling out of the building. Soon the intense passions would be infecting her people and the spirit would be able to feast to his cruel heart’s content.

That’s why it had created this vision of her former sire.

It had rooted around in her mind until it had managed to locate the one memory capable of producing the most intense reaction.

“No, I won’t let you use me.” Grimly she struggled to leash her anger, already sensing the bewildered reaction of her people. “Not again.”

“But you’re such a loyal soldier,” he mocked, looking so real that Nefri could almost sympathize with Gaius’s belief that his mate had been returned to him. “So eager to please me that you were willing to destroy an entire clan.”

“No.”

“Now, now, Nefri,” he chided. “Don’t you remember?”

Against her will the memory of the brutal battle that had killed over two dozen vampires and their human servants seared through her mind, leaving behind an aching sadness laced with a crippling guilt.

“I remember,” she whispered.

Theo laughed, relishing her pain. “Do you hear their screams when you close your eyes?”

Still locked in her paralysis, she could only tremble as the spirit ruthlessly played her emotions like they were a musical instrument.

“Yes.”

“Do you taste their blood?” he pressed.

“It’s over,” she rasped.

“No, it’s still there. The monster inside you just waiting to be released.”

And that was it.

Her greatest fear.

The reason she had traveled beyond the Veil and devoted herself to creating a place of utter peace.

A Garden of Eden.

Only I am the serpent, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. The devil just waiting to destroy paradise.

“Stop,” she cried.

“Aren’t you tired of denying your emotions?” Theo asked, his tone lowering to become a hypnotic murmur. “Of being less than who you are?”

She desperately tried to block out the insidious voice, hearing the distant sounds of fights beginning to break out among her clan.

Violence where there had never been any before.

“I won’t listen to you.”

“I was so proud of you,” her dead master purred. “A beautiful, lethal weapon who could make the world shudder in fear.”

“No.”

“But what have you become?” he persisted. “A shallow husk of yourself. A female who is forced to cower behind this Veil as if you’re ashamed of your greatness.”

Her muscles trembled as she tried to fight against the spirit holding her captive.

She had to get free long enough to find a weapon. She knew beyond a doubt once the spirit had fed enough to regain its strength it would send her on a bloodbath that would destroy her people.

She was going to die before she allowed that to happen.

Caught in the strange, motionless battle, Nefri almost missed the familiar scent that floated on the breeze.

“Santiago?” she whispered in confusion.

The vision of Theo briefly wavered, becoming a black mist, as Nefri concentrated on the sense of Santiago approaching the building. Then, with a sharp movement the illusion was coalescing and shifting to block her vision.

“Bastard,” her sire growled. “Send him away.”

“Never.”

The pale brown eyes hardened with an ugly anger. “He’s like all the others, can’t you see that? He only wants to use you.”

Just a few days ago the cruel taunt would have hit its mark. She’d been manipulated and abused too many times not to harbor a suspicion that anyone trying to get too close wanted something from her.

Now, however, she didn’t hesitate. “You’re wrong,” she said with an unmistakable confidence.

“Why else would he be with you?” Theo demanded. “If he truly cared he would have listened when you insisted you preferred to be left alone.”

A soft warmth flowed through her heart, replacing the anger and pain and fear that had been coursing from her and pulsing through the air to infect her people.

“He cares about me.”

“He only wants your power,” Theo snarled. “With you he can take command of his own clan. Perhaps even challenge the Anasso.”

“Nefri.” Santiago’s voice cut through the vision’s filthy lies, steadying her.

“Kill him,” Theo commanded even as he began to fade beneath the reality of Santiago’s presence. “Kill him before he can destroy you.”

Santiago stepped into the building, half dragging a sadly decomposing Gaius beneath one arm.

He walked cautiously forward, his dark gaze studying her with a fierce intensity. “Are you okay?”

“Stay back,” she commanded, wishing he had never appeared despite the fact his mere arrival had given her strength.

She couldn’t bear it if the spirit forced her to hurt him.

He held her gaze as he continued his slow pace forward. “I can’t do that.”

She trembled. “Please.”

“Trust me, my love.”

“I’m”—she could feel the spirit inside her trying to cloud her mind—“not in control.”

“Then give me the control,” Santiago urged, his beautiful face softened with an expression of love so pure it muted any attempt by the spirit to stir her anger.

Not that the spirit was about to give up without a fight.

Unable to claim her mind, it instead tightened her muscles, clearly preparing to attack.

“Santiago.” Her eyes held a growing panic. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will always be here for you. I will never fail you.” He held out one arm in welcome even as he clutched the seemingly unconscious Gaius in the other. “Trust me.”

What was he doing?

Did he think she could actually fight off the spirit?

She might be powerful, but she wasn’t Wonder Woman.

A cry was wrenched from her throat as her body was suddenly hurtling forward, her fangs fully extended. It was the only warning Santiago had, but it should have been plenty to give him the opportunity to dodge her attack.

Instead, he stood with an unwavering determination, barely flinching when she rammed into him with the force of a cement truck.

Her fangs sank in his neck as he wrapped an arm around her waist, his voice barely audible over the terror that pounded through her.

“Now, Gaius.”

Chapter 29

Sally had never actually tried to walk around with an elephant on her back. It wasn’t the sort of thing that even a witch did on a regular basis. But after the past few minutes she was pretty sure she now knew what it would feel like.

Kneeling in front of the safe, which had been fully exposed by the simple process of Styx and Roke bashing through the remaining bricks, she felt sweat trickling down her face and her muscles trembling in protest.