Worse was her strange costume.
The scarlet corset was all that covered her tiny bosom and a tiny leather skirt was plastered to her hips. She had on leggings and high-heeled boots, but they did little more than emphasize her slender curves. She clearly had no males in her life to forbid such a shocking display of her body.
“Why are you in my home?”
She propped her shoulder against the doorjamb, looking far too comfortable. “Our master sent me to make sure you had everything you need for your return.”
So, she was sent by the Dark Lord.
Not that it made her presence any more welcome.
“You are a housekeeper?”
“Housekeeper?” The female straightened, her hands slapping on her hips in outrage. “Do I look like a freaking housekeeper?”
His jaw tightened at her shrill tone. “Do not test me, female.”
She gave a toss of her head. “I happen to be a very powerful witch. One who is favored above all of the Dark Lord’s disciples . ..”
“A witch.” His power blasted through the air, sending the female slamming into the wall of the attached dining room. He stalked forward, his fangs exposed as he prepared to put an end to the bitch. It had been a witch who had held him powerless as his beloved mate was burned at the stake. “I detest witches.”
Reaching the female, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and began to squeeze. He sure as hell wasn’t going to soil his tongue with her tainted blood.
Intent on choking the life from his companion, Gaius was unprepared when her dark eyes abruptly flashed with a crimson fire.
“Stop,” she commanded, her voice low and filled with a power that made Gaius pause in astonishment.
Staring at her suddenly blank face, Gaius felt alarm flicker down his spine. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
Sally’s lips parted, but it wasn’t her voice coming out of her mouth. “Gaius.”
He frowned, realizing that the power choking the air had nothing to do with the witch and everything to do with the strange being invading her body.
“Who is here?”
“It is your master, my beloved son.”
Gaius narrowed his gaze, his fingers maintaining their tight grip on Sally’s neck. “Is this a trick?”
“No trick,” the deep voice assured him. “Sally is a conduit.”
“Conduit?”
“Through her I am capable of speaking directly with my servants.”
Was that supposed to be reassuring?
Gaius grimaced. It’d been bad enough to have the Dark Lord whispering in his mind when he was meditating. To have his voice coming out of the witch’s lips was . . . what were the words used today?
Freaking him out?
Yeah, that was it.
Totally freaking him out.
Not that he was about to reveal his weakness. The Dark Lord was a pitiless monster who would destroy him the moment he suspected Gaius might not be of use to him.
“I have no love for magic,” he rasped.
The black lips twisted in a mocking smile. “Then we will make this swift.”
“Very well.” Grudgingly loosening his grip on the witch, he hid his shaking hands in the folds of his black robe. “I am here as you wished.”
“You have acquired the skills that I requested?”
Gaius gave a dip of his head. “I am capable of altering my shape, although only for short periods of time.”
“And the other?”
“I was able to travel through the Veil with the medallion you left hidden on the other side.”
“Good.” The crimson fire flickered in the female’s dark eyes. “The medallion will also allow you to enter the mists where I am trapped.”
“Is that what you desire of me?” Gaius demanded, hoping his bland tone disguised his reluctance.
He was willing to do whatever necessary to bring back his dearest Dara, but the thought of joining the Dark Lord in his hell dimension was enough to give anyone the shudders.
“Not yet. I have a duty for you to perform before joining me.”
He offered a bow. “I am yours to command.”
“Yes, you are,” the dark voice purred.
Gaius wisely ignored the taunt. “What would you have of me?”
“A prophet has been discovered.”
Gaius widened his eyes in shock. He’d heard the rumors, of course, but he’d dismissed them. It had been centuries since the last prophet had walked the earth.
“A true seer?”
“I want her brought to me,” the Dark Lord commanded. “Alive.”
“Of course. Is she a human?”
“A Were.”
Gaius considered the logistics. He didn’t remember his life as a Roman general, but he maintained a rare talent for strategy.
Which, unfortunately, was precisely the reason his clan had been attacked . . .
No. He wrenched his mind from the painful memories. He couldn’t go there. Guilt, no matter how well deserved, was a distraction he couldn’t afford.
“That will make her capture a trifle more difficult, but I am confident I will be capable of bringing her to you with minimal injury.”
“She is being protected by a male Were,” the Dark Lord continued. “I want him brought as well.”
“Why?” Even as the word left his lips, Gaius knew he’d made a mistake.
On cue, an agonizing pain drilled through his head, sending him to his knees.
“It is not your place to question me.”
“No, Master.”
“I will provide you with the necessary companions to assist you in your task.”
Companions? That was the last thing he needed, or wanted.
“That’s not necessary . . .” Once again the pain shot through his brain, briefly blinding him with the sheer anguish. “Gods.”
“Gaius.” The witch jerkily moved to pat the top of his aching head, her face still blank and her eyes glowing with an eerie power. “Do not make me wish I had chosen another servant for this important task.”
Forcing himself back to his feet, Gaius managed a stiff smile. “You will have no reason for regret, Master.”
There was a long pause. As if the Dark Lord was debating the pleasure of killing him against the need to capture the prophet. At last the witch gave a nod. “Sally will travel with you as my personal eyes and ears.”
Gaius was proud and stubborn and obsessed with his dead mate. But he wasn’t stupid.
This time there was no hesitation as he gave a nod of his head. “Of course.”
“I will have two others join you.”
Another hasty nod.
He would make certain his . . . companions understood who was in charge when they arrived.
“Where will we find the prophet?” he asked.
The crimson eyes flared. “If I knew where she was I would not need you, would I?”
Good point.
Las Vegas
After consuming enough food to feed a small army, or one hungry Were, Caine escorted Cassie back through the casino. Instinctively, he slowed his pace to match his companion’s as she studied the drunken crowds that weaved their way past blinking machines toward the cover band singing at the back of the vast room.
He wanted to be far away from the chaotic blast of sound and light and emotions that beat at his senses. His change to pureblooded Were left him hypersensitive to even the most subtle stimulus and being stuck in the middle of Vegas made him feel as if he were being sandblasted by sensations.
Worse, his most primitive instincts were stirred to a fever pitch by the male gazes that followed Cassie with blatant lust.
But, he wasn’t a masochist.
With every passing night it was growing more difficult to keep to his role as protector. Spending any extra time alone with her in a hotel room . . .
A very bad idea.
Especially when she’d just dropped her latest little bombshell on him.
Covertly studying her perfect profile, he kept a possessive hand at her lower back, steering her toward the front lobby. Maybe if they were on the streets he could clear the cobwebs and return his mind to the task of keeping this female safe.
Which was all he should be thinking about.
Busy reminding himself that there wasn’t a demon around who wouldn’t kill to get their hands on a genuine prophet, Caine was unprepared when Cassie came to an abrupt halt, regarding him with a baffled expression.
“Have I done something wrong?”
He frowned at the unexpected question. “Why do you ask?”
“You keep staring at me.”
“I’m not the only one,” he muttered, curling his lips into a snarl as a group of men dressed in khakis and polo shirts halted to ogle Cassie’s slender body shown in shocking detail by the sundress. “You need more clothes on.”
“I’m not going to be distracted. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Caine heaved a sigh. For once the emerald eyes held a remarkable clarity. The one time he wanted her to be oblivious to him, he wryly acknowledged.
A typical female.
“What you said earlier,” he abruptly admitted.
She grimaced. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know why I felt compelled to come here,” she said, misunderstanding his confession. “I suppose it will eventually come to me.”