Devoured by Darkness - Page 35/56

“No,” Tane readily agreed.

Laylah frowned in confusion. “I thought they were banished?”

Tane grimaced. “A lot of unpleasant nasties are crawling out of the shadows these days.”

The Queen shivered, clutching the stone around her neck. “Yes, the wind whispers of evil.”

“When did your Ciomach start with its Christmas tree routine?” Tane asked.

“Early this evening.”

Tane cursed and pulled his large dagger from its sheath.

Laylah instinctively glanced toward the nearby trees.

“Tane?”

“It can’t be a coincidence,” he said.

“What can’t?”

“The Sylvermyst first appearing in England and now here.”

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Like her schizoid aunt and Sergei weren’t bad enough? “You think they followed us?” His eyes glowed with a deadly intent. “Or they were led.” Laylah swallowed a sigh. Had she actually spent years wishing she had a family? “Marika, I assume?”

“A possibility.” He clutched the dagger as if wishing there was someone around he could stick it into. “One of too god damn many. We need to get moving.”

“But it’s almost sunrise. It would be safer to remain here until …”

“No, Laylah,” Eirinn interrupted. “My debt is paid and I won’t risk my people to defend you against the death that stalks you. You will collect the child and leave.”

Laylah didn’t argue. She didn’t want anyone put in danger because of her. But even as she turned to make her way out of the glade, Tane was at her side.

“Too late,” he whispered.

She paused, concentrating on her surroundings.

The magical barrier muted the outside world, but suddenly she was aware of the distant sounds of shouts and an unfamiliar smell of tangy herbs that blended with the fruity scent of fey.

Sylvermyst.

It had to be.

She didn’t hesitate.

Charging toward the barrier, her only thought was to get to the child as swiftly as possible.

Several miles away, Caine cursed and yanked his Jeep to a halt next to the abandoned gas station that was the only building for miles.

Dammit. He should never have left the top off. Of course, he hadn’t expected his companion to leap from a vehicle traveling sixty miles an hour.

It wasn’t the sort of thing most people did.

Clearly he needed to turn off his sane dial.

Throwing the damned thing into park, he vaulted over the door and headed toward the back of the parking lot. He cursed as he stubbed his toe on a rusting crow bar and nearly landed on his face. He was still trying to become accustomed to his newfound strength and speed.

Which was a nice way of saying he was as clumsy as hell.

“Cassie, wait.”

She stood at the edge of the crumbling pavement, staring across the empty fields.

Despite her heavy sweatshirt and jeans, Cassie shivered. “I sense them.”

He sniffed the air, picking up the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Not fey … but close.

“What the hell are they?”

“They are from … distant lands.”

He growled, the wolf inside him snapping at the savage need to toss Cassie over his shoulder and haul her far away from the danger.

It didn’t matter that she’d been a pureblood Were a hell of a lot longer than he had. Or that the danger was too far away to pose an immediate threat.

“I’m going out on a limb and guess that you don’t mean illegal aliens,” he said dryly.

The pale green eyes shifted in his direction. “Why are aliens illegal?”

“Never mind.” When would he learn? He gave a shake of his head, considering the distant sense of violence that stained the air. “It seems we need a detour. How do you feel about Mexico?”

He didn’t expect her to agree. She was OCD when it came to her visions.

Not even death would stop her from her self-imposed task.

“No, we must wait,” she abruptly announced.

“Here?” “Yes.”

“Wait for what?”

Her eyes flared white and with a wave of her hand a glowing symbol hovered in the air.

“This.”

“Dammit, would you stop doing that?” he growled. Her eyes returned to their astonishing shade of green, a serene smile curving her lips. “Did you bring dinner?”

Chapter 16

Cursing, Tane was in swift pursuit of Laylah, managing to catch her arm as she headed deeper into the trees.

“Laylah, stop,” he commanded.

She jerked her arm free, her expression one of pure panic. “The baby.”

“No.”

“Wait here. It will only take a minute.”

With a swift motion she darted beneath a low hanging branch and disappeared through a large bush.

“Damn,” Tane clenched his hands, helpless against the compulsion that forced him to remain where he was.

Given enough incentive he might be capable of breaking the urge to give in to Laylah’s request, but he couldn’t ignore the warning given by Siljar.

Like it or not, Laylah was a principium and if he tried to screw with fate the Oracles would have him hanging by his balls and Laylah would be left on her own.

Or worse than alone, he silently corrected as the ridiculous gargoyle crashed through the underbrush, his wings flapping and his eyes wide as he was chased by two tall pursuers.

“By my father’s stone balls,” the tiny demon gasped, “who invited the Sylvermyst to the party?”

Tane shifted into a fighter’s stance, the dagger held loosely in his hand as he watched the warriors approach.

They looked like fey.

Tall and lithe with long hair in varying shades of red and gold. All of them were dressed in jeans and T-shirts, no doubt hoping to avoid unwanted attention from the humans.

A wasted effort.

Generic jeans and T-shirts didn’t disguise the liquid grace of their movements or the perfection of their faces that could never belong to a mere mortal.

Oh, and of course there were the enormous crossbows that were currently pointed in his direction.

Dead giveaway.

A swift count revealed four Sylvermyst approaching from the east and two more from the south.

Too many to defeat without risking a wooden arrow through the heart.

“Make yourself useful, gargoyle,” he commanded.

Levet sniffed, but thankfully he lifted his hands and pointed them toward the advancing Sylvermyst.

“Watch in wonder, vampire.”

There was a sputter of sparkles that shimmered in the air before they fell harmlessly to the ground. Just his luck.

The gargoyle was shooting blanks.

Accustomed to fighting impossible odds without backup, Tane charged toward the two nearest attackers, taking an arrow in his shoulder and another in his upper chest before he was near enough to grab the first Sylvermyst and rip open his throat.

The potent taste of fairy blood slid down his throat. Not the sparkling sweetness of most fey, but a dark explosion of power that burned a path to his gut.

Sucking the bastard dry, he stuck a dagger into the fey’s heart and gave it a twist before tossing him to the ground and reaching for his partner.

The second fey had already dropped his crossbow and reached for the sword strapped to his back.

Tane ducked as the blade swiped a mere inch above his head. Wisely he kept low as he took out the warrior’s legs and drove him hard into the ground.

The Sylvermyst spoke in a language that grated harshly on Tane’s ears, but even as the words formed Tane was slicing his throat.

He wasn’t in the mood to be hexed or cursed or hit with any other nasty spell.

Once assured there weren’t going to be any surprises, Tane kicked the sword out of the fey’s hand and efficiently cut out his heart.

The eyes, a strange, metallic shade of copper, widened in shock. As if he hadn’t expected to be killed by an enraged vampire.

Fool.

With the two nearest warriors dispatched, Tane grabbed the Sylvermyst’s sword and straightened. If the magic filling the air wasn’t screwing with his senses there were plenty more where those came from.

He was kicking aside the nearest corpse to make sure it didn’t impede his movements when the explosion rocked the ground from beneath his feet.

He flowed upright, his startled gaze sweeping his surroundings.

The trees in front of him were flattened, the massive trunks still smoking, and the dirt that filled the air settling on top of them.

More impressive, the four fey who had been approaching were now scattered across the ground in a dozen different pieces.

“Holy mother …” he breathed, tugging out the arrows stuck in his flesh. Levet’s wings flapped in embarrassment. “Oops.”

Oops?

The gargoyle had released the equivalent of a minor nuclear bomb and all he said was “oops"?