Neither one nor the other.
A mongrel.
The story of her life.
Gathering the soft material around her Shay ignored the tantalizing scent that was so uniquely Viper. She had a promise to keep, and no time to allow herself to be distracted. Especially not by her annoying reaction to a damn vampire.
Leaving the house with a silence that few could match she managed to elude the guards that Viper had mentioned patrolled the grounds. Once at the high gates that protected the estate she paused to toss the cloak over before easily climbing the smooth bricks and landing on the other side.
It was her last barrier and gathering the cloak about her she took off at a steady run that would lead her back to the city and the auction house.
Settling into a swift trot she could maintain for hours if necessary, she headed south. In the distance she could see the looming skyline of Chicago and she kept her gaze fixed on the Sears Tower as she crossed the rural fields that lay well outside the sprawling city.
She did take one detour to collect the bag she had hidden when she had first felt the compulsion to return to Evor. She hadn't known then what she might need, she had only wanted to have a few surprises tucked away in case she would have the opportunity to use them.
Now was the perfect opportunity.
Dusk had painted a canvas of pinks and pale violet across the sky when she neared the auction house. Had she been free of the curse, she would have crawled atop one of the towering buildings to watch the wash of color spread over Lake Michigan. There was nothing quite so soothing as being near the water and allowing its power to spread through her.
Her steps never halted, however, and it was still early enough that most of the trolls would be sleeping when she arrived at the auction house.
Unfortunately, more than just trolls and vamps waited for full dark before rising and silently sneaking to the lower basement she discovered Levet still in statue form.
"Levet, wake up," she hissed, silently praying it was long enough past sunset for him to hear her. "Dammit, wake up."
For long moments there was nothing but the scrambling of mice to break the thick silence. Then, there was the faintest crack of rock and the thick stone encasing the gargoyle began to crumble away.
The sight never failed to amaze Shay as the tiny statue shed its skin tike a snake molting to reveal the demon beneath.
A shower of dust briefly blinded the small gargoyle and Shay moved closer to the iron bars.
"Levet."
"Eeek." With a loud shriek, Levet scurried to the dark corner of the cell.
"For God's sake, be quiet," Shay hissed.
"Shay?"
"Yes, it's Shay."
Levet slowly crept from the shadows, as if half expecting her to be a figment of his imagination.
"What are you doing here? Mon dieu, have you been returned already?"
Shay reluctantly smiled. She didn't blame the gargoyle for jumping to the conclusion her newest master had kicked her out after only a few hours.
She was not exactly slave material.
She hated taking orders. She was short-tempered. Overly proud. Skilled in the most deadly arts. And inclined to battle against fate rather than accept it with grace.
There might be worse slaves than herself.
But not many.
"I told you that I would come back for you. I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."
Levet stilled. As if he had returned to his statue form. "You came back? For... me?"
"Yes."
He slowly sank to his knees, his flippant manner lost in a surge of bone-deep relief.
"Oh, thank God." His voice echoed through the empty cavern. 'Thank God."
"Sssh." Shay gave an anxious wave of her hand as she glanced toward the nearby stairs. "We have to get you out of here before Evor awakens."
"How? You can't touch the bars and I'm not strong enough to bend them."
Shay reached beneath her cloak to pull out the small ceramic pot. With great care, she pulled out the stopper.
"Stand back."
Levet rose to his feet and slowly backed away. "What are you going to do?"
The smoke was already beginning to rise from the pot. Never a good sign.
"Dammit, Levet, just get in the corner."With a flap of his gossamer wings, he was scurrying to the back of the cell even as Shay tossed the pot directly at the iron bars.
There was an evil hiss and an acrid cloud of mist as the liquid from the pot rapidly ate its way through the metal.
"Sacrebleu, What is that stuff?" Levet breathed in shock.
"A potion I stole from the witches."
"You stole it?"
"Yes."
The gargoyle delicately inched his way forward. "Um, Shay?"
"What?"
"Next time you want to rescue me could you just steal the key?" He deliberately regarded the large, dripping hole in the center of the bars before his gaze lowered to the stones that were being slowly eaten away. "I'm not really certain you should be allowed to have potions."
Shay slammed her hands on her hips. She had been saving that particular potion for Evor. One day he would push her too far and she fully intended to enjoy watching him melt into a troll-puddle. Even if it did mean her own death.
"Are you going to stand there and criticize my jail-breaking techniques or are you coming with me?"
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Using his wings to carry him over the dangerous vitriol still pooled on the ground, he darted through the hole and landed beside her.
Shay caught her breath at the beauty of those gossamer wings he always kept so closely guarded against his body. Even in the shadows she could detect the shimmering reds and blues veined with pure gold. Had he been a wood sprite he would have displayed those wings with all the pride of a strutting peacock. As it was they were nothing more than a source of embarrassment.
Shifting her gaze to keep from staring at the beautiful wings and ruffling Levet's tender pride, Shay gathered the cloak closer about her.
"I can't sense the trolls near but we must hurry. It won't be long until they are preparing for the night."
"Wait." Levet caught her arm even as she turned toward the stairs and pointed toward a small opening at the back of the dungeons. "This way."
"That only takes us deeper into the dungeons," she protested with a shudder. She didn't want to know what Evor hid in those damp chambers.
"There is a hidden door."
"A hidden door? " Shay frowned. "How do you know?"
"I can feel the night." Level leaned back his head to sniff the air, a faint shiver rippling over his gray skin. "It speaks to me."
Shay wasn't about to argue with a gargoyle who could smell the night. She might be stubborn, but she wasn't entirely stupid.
"Fine, you lead the way."
Without a backward glance the small demon was hurrying into the narrow opening. Shay swallowed a sigh as she followed closely behind him.
As she had expected the walls were lined with heavy irondoors that hid rooms where the most powerful of demons could be caged. Without windows in the doors it was impossible to determine what was locked in the dark, but she could catch a musty, snake scent of a reptilian demon followed by the spicy, almost herbal scent of a powerful imp. There were other smells that were fainter, as if the demons were beginning to fade behind those thick, ruthless doors.
She battled the urge to pound her fists against the thick iron. No matter what sort of demons might be lurking behind the doors none of them deserved to be in Evor's power.
The sound of her companion's hurried steps brought her back to her senses.
No. She could do nothing tonight.
Not without risking Levet.
The remaining demons were a worry for another night.
They traveled in silence through the spiderweb of tunnels. Levet never hesitated as he angled through me various passageways. Shay found herself having to bend nearly double more than once, but at last the gargoyle turned and began to climb a narrow set of stairs carved into the stone.
As they made their way upward even Shay could begin to sense the brush of fresh, air. Within minutes they were squeezing through the narrowest of openings and were standing on the vast grounds that surrounded the auction house.
She blew out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding.
Holy crap, they had made it.
Even when she had been plotting to rescue Levet she hadn't truly thought she could pull it off.
Not with Evor and his merry band of trolls so close at hand.
On the point of sharing her rush of joy at their success Shay abruptly froze. A cold prickling was creeping over her skin.
A cold that could only belong to one creature.
"Levet, fly," she commanded as she bent low and prepared for an attack.
She had barely lifted her hands when there was a streak of blackness and she found herself flat on her back with a silver-haired vampire perched on top of her.
"Well, well, pet. Fancy meeting you here."
Her breath had been knocked from her lungs, but not from the swift tackle. Viper had made certain his arms encircling her body had taken the impact.