A fact that had been emphasized when it’d taken him three attempts to magically command the demon to leave the caves and form the breach that he needed to travel halfway around the world.
Not for the first time he regretted his inability to use Keeley or one of the local fairies to create a portal to take him to the woods that surrounded the Oracles’ lair. Unfortunately, while he could mask his scent with a disguise amulet, there was no way to hide the power surge of fey magic that a portal demanded.
The Oracles would know he was coming before he could ever step foot near the caves.
On the other hand, a breach caused by one of their own would never be noticed.
Reaching into the pocket of his cloak, Anthony curled his fingers around the bottle of potion as he stepped into the breach. Immediately he was stung by a hundred pinpricks of electricity; it felt as if he were being attacked by a swarm of bees. This was why most people avoided traveling through a breach.
Locked on the demon who’d created the opening, he forced himself to move steadily forward, chanting a lethal spell as he at last stepped out the other side.
He was prepared to destroy any threat that might be lying in wait.
Shivering as the icy breeze tugged at his cloak, Anthony backed against the tree, struggling to see through the thick darkness that shrouded the woods. Unlike the supernatural creatures, he didn’t have night sight that could penetrate the predawn shadows.
When nothing leaped out to kill him, Anthony altered his spell to produce a small ball of light that floated just above his head.
The illumination was enough for him to catch sight of the eerily beautiful woman who stood in a small clearing, her long copper hair floating around her oval face that was dominated by a pair of green eyes speckled with pure silver.
Phyla looked like she should have been strutting the catwalks of Paris, not hidden in a damp cave near the Mississippi River. But the beautiful demon attired in a long, nearly see-through white gown, was one of the most powerful Oracles. A bonus when she was creating a breach for him or encouraging the Commission to complete the spell he’d given to her, but a pain in the ass when she was trying to escape his control.
Sweat beaded Anthony’s face despite the chill as he covertly pulled the bottle from his pocket and dabbed a small amount of the potion on his fingers. Then, moving forward, he took the female’s hand and offered a deep bow.
“Bless you, mistress,” he murmured, releasing the spell of Compulsion as the potion transferred from his hand to hers. “As always I’m grateful for your assistance.”
The demon briefly tried to fight the spell, inwardly sensing she was about to break free. Then, as the potion spread through her body, the woman’s tension eased. Slowly her features softened, a hint of confusion darkening her eyes.
“Do I know you?” she asked, her words coming out as a low hiss.
Anthony smiled with smug satisfaction. The potion enhanced his powers far beyond those of a normal druid, giving him complete control of the demons who thought they were superior to humans.
Arrogant bastards.
“I am nobody,” he said. “You will soon forget my presence.”
“This is wrong.” The woman pulled her hand free, stepping back with a fluid movement that reminded him of a serpent. “I should not be here.”
Anthony’s smile remained. The spell had come close to snapping, but he could feel his connection to the demon strengthening with every passing second.
“You have merely come for a stroll.” The words were spoken as a command. “Now you need to return to your private rooms. You are tired.”
She gave a blink. “Yessssss. I am tired.”
“Go now.”
The demon turned, slowly making her way toward the caves. Anthony didn’t bother to wait for her to disappear before he was headed up the bluff that overlooked the Mississippi River. Thanks to Keeley, he was familiar with a hidden entrance into the lair that would allow him to avoid the Commission and their numerous servants.
A vital requirement for him to spread the potion and reinforce his spell of Compulsion.
Fallon knew she was in trouble.
Wandering through the magical meadow with Cyn at her side, she tried to convince herself it was time to return to her rooms.
She’d finished the plate of fruit and even polished off the bottle of champagne. There was no reason to linger, was there? Not unless she was willing to admit that she simply wanted to spend time with the vampire.
Turning her head, her eyes clashed with the steady jade gaze, the twist of his lips assuring her that he was as baffled as she was by the strange compulsion that kept pulling them together.
“Tell me about your life,” he abruptly demanded, bringing them to a halt next to the shallow brook that flowed over shelves of rocks that created tiny waterfalls.
She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
“What do you do with your days?”
A flippant response trembled on her lips before she caught sight of the tight line of his jaw and felt the icy prickles of his power in the air.
Cyn was clearly battling the urge to unleash his primitive desires and toss her onto the grass to satisfy the need that continued to pulse between them. It was up to her whether they kept up the pretense of two civilized companions, or if she provoked him into . . .
She clenched her teeth, refusing to allow the image of being pressed into the soft ground as Cyn covered her with his larger body to form.
At the moment they were standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and they’d tumble over the edge.
Not yet prepared to take that irrevocable step, Fallon licked her lips and began chatting with a burst of nervous energy.
“We tend to be a social species, as well as highly competitive, so each House hosts lavish gatherings.”
His lips quirked. “I’ve been to a few fairy clubs. I will admit that they know how to throw one hell of a party.”
She blushed. Over the years she’d accidentally peeked into a few of the fairy clubs when she was scrying, and was shocked by the drunken orgies that seemed to pass as entertainment among many demons.
“Not those types of parties,” she muttered. “We host teas and soirées and nightly balls. They’re intended to display the wealth and stature of our House, not to—”
“To actually have fun?” he finished for her, a wicked glint of amusement in his eyes.
She wrinkled her nose. “I hardly think that overindulging in spirits and having sex with multiple partners is my idea of fun.”
He reached to carefully brush a stray curl off her cheek. “Then what do you do for fun, princess?”
She hesitated. What did she do? The majority of her time was devoted to her role as princess, of course. When she wasn’t expected to join her father, she was in her rooms peering into her scrying bowls. But for fun?
She was still struggling for an answer to the simple question when she was interrupted by the chime of a distant bell.
Cyn was on instant alert, his hand reaching for the dagger that was strapped beneath his sweater.
“What is that dinging?”
“I need to check the bowls,” she said, hurrying back across the meadow.
Cyn jogged at her side, leading her back to the door hidden by the illusion. “Is the bell a specific warning?”
“Yes.” She was forced to wait while he triggered the lock before they could return to the tunnel that ran beneath the castle. “One of the Oracles left the caves.”
“This way.”
He led her in the opposite direction from where they’d entered, rounding a corner to reveal a staircase that led them directly to the upper floors.
Fallon never slowed as she hurried up the steps and then down the corridor so she could enter the room where she’d arranged the bowls.
Walking in a slow circle, she pinpointed the bowl that had set off the alarm.
“Here.”
She lowered herself until she was k
neeling on the carpet, peering into the water. The images flickered across the surface, revealing a slender woman with red hair walking back into the caves.
Odd.
Why would a demon leave the lair only to return minutes later?
“A Manasa demon. It must be Phyla,” Cyn murmured, leaning over the bowl.
Fallon stiffened, ridiculously wondering just how well he knew the beautiful demon. Then she gave a sharp shake of her head.
What was wrong with her? This was no time to be distracted by her childish stab of jealousy.
Focusing on her demon, Fallon touched the edge of the bowl, carefully angling the bowl to the side. The water tilted, distorting the images as they began to flow backward. As if she’d pressed a rewind button.
“Holy shite,” Cyn muttered. “How far can you go back?”
“Only a few minutes,” she said, removing her fingers from the bowl as she reached the limit of her powers.
Instantly the water settled back in the bowl and Fallon spoke a low word of command, freezing the image as she caught sight of a distinctive simmer that was barely visible among the thick trees shrouded in darkness.
“What is that?” Cyn demanded, his broad shoulder brushing hers as he leaned over the bowl.
Fallon kept her gaze locked on the bowl even as her senses were leaping with acute awareness of the man kneeling at her side.
It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be able to make her ache with this intense need without even trying.
“She created a breach,” she explained, wrenching her thoughts back to the vision that filled the bowl.
“Isn’t that the same as a portal?”
“No.” Fallon shook her head. “A portal is creating a passageway through dimensions that is controlled by a fey’s magic. This is a temporary rip in the space that will collapse within an hour.”
He sent her a wry glance. A silent reminder of his opinion of magic. Then he asked the obvious question.
“So why would she have created a breach and then returned to the caves?”
“If she didn’t intend to travel then she must have let something through.”
He shifted his attention back to the bowl. “Can you search the area?”
“Yes.”
Releasing the magic from its stasis, the images flickered until she and Cyn were seeing the area in real time. Fallon gave a wave of her hand. Slowly she began a thorough sweep of the area. At first there was nothing to see but trees. And rocks. And an abandoned farmhouse.
It was Cyn who abruptly pointed at the cloaked form that was disappearing into a shallow cave that had been hidden by the undergrowth.
“There,” he muttered. “Can you follow him?”
“Aye, aye, sir,” she muttered, locking her magic on the cloaked form.
Without warning she felt his fingers lightly grasp her chin, tugging her face to meet his teasing gaze.
“Do you deliberately taunt me?”
Fallon sent him a chiding frown, only to ruin it when she shivered at the delicious feel of his fingers stroking along the line of her jaw.
“I don’t like being given orders,” she informed him.
The teasing faded from his eyes, his gaze lowering to her lips. “Then why are you even considering returning to your father?”
Her heart missed a beat as she hastily lowered her gaze. She didn’t want anyone to know just how the mere thought of returning home made her heart squeeze with panic.
It was just so . . . disloyal to her family.
“Because I understand my duty,” she forced herself to say.
His humorless laugh echoed through the room. “A martyr to appease your father’s arrogance?”
The fact that he was right only pissed her off. “What does it matter to you?”
He leaned down, filling her vision with the savage beauty of his face. “You know why.”
She did. He wanted her.
And the goddess knew that she wanted him. Desperately.
But sating her lust with a man who made a habit of seducing women was hardly a legitimate reason to betray her family and perhaps ruin her life forever.
Was it?
With a muttered curse, Fallon jerked her gaze back to the bowl. No more distractions.
Thankfully Cyn seemed equally determined to concentrate on the reason they were kneeling on the hard floor, and careful not to touch, they watched in silence as the shadowed form squeezed through a narrow crevice at the back of the cave.
Her brows lifted in surprise as she realized he was entering a tunnel that led to the lair of the Commission.
“What the hell?” Cyn leaned forward. “Why would a cloaked human male be creeping through the tunnels that have been claimed by the Commission?”
She glanced at him in surprise. “How do you know it’s a human male?”
His gaze remained trained on the shadowed form as it weaved its way from one tunnel to the next, occasionally halting and brushing his hand over the wall.
“The way he walks,” Cyn said in absent tones.
“You can barely see how he walks beneath that cloak.”
“I’m a predator. I’ve devoted centuries to studying my prey.” He nodded toward the bowl. “That’s a human male.”
She rolled her eyes. “Arrogant.”
He shrugged aside her insult. “I know what he is, not who he is or why he’s in the tunnels.”
“Maybe I can focus on his face.”
Fallon held her hand over the bowl, a trickle of sweat inching down her spine as she concentrated her magic on the hood that covered his head. It was one thing to set the bowls and leave them locked on a specific place. The pull of power was a steady drain that she could offset with the proper nutrition and rest. It was another to manipulate the scrying. Such a blast of energy couldn’t be compensated for.
The image of the man narrowed to the shadowed opening of his hood, giving a hint of unremarkable features.
“He’s looking for something. Or someone,” Cyn murmured as the stranger turned in a slow circle, his head tilted back. Then without warning, he came to a halt, seeming to peer directly at them through the bowl. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat. “Can he sense you?”
“No, it’s impossible,” she assured him, even as a cold chill inched down her spine.
“Impossible is a dangerous word, princess,” he warned.
“But—”
On the point of explaining the numerous reasons that there was no way the man could detect her scrying, Fallon had the breath knocked from her as Cyn shoved her to the side. At the same time a visible bolt of magic shot out of the water and slammed into the vampire.
With a small cry Fallon watched as Cyn fell backward, his body crashing onto the floor with enough force to tumble a vase off a nearby table.
Ignoring the shattered porcelain, Fallon crawled toward the unconscious vampire, dread clenching her stomach.
“Cyn,” she rasped, desperately grasping his shoulders to give him a shake.
He was lying so still. As if he was . . .
No. She couldn’t allow herself to think the worst.
Torn between staying with Cyn and needing to find some way to help him, Fallon compromised by screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Help. Someone help.”
Absently smoothing back the braids from his too-pale face, she kept herself between his unconscious body and the bowl. Later she would try to figure out how the hell the cloaked figure had managed to send magic through her scrying bowl, but for now she simply needed to make sure that Cyn wasn’t hit again.
Preparing to go in search of help, Fallon was relieved when the door was pushed open and Levet stepped into the room.
“What has that bully of a vampire . . .” The gargoyle’s words came to an abrupt halt as he caught sight of Cyn collapsed on the floor. “Oh. Bravo, ma belle.”
“It wasn’t me,” she rasped. “He’s truly hurt.”
Easily sensing her panic, Levet crossed the carpet
to lean over Cyn with a puzzled frown. “Human magic.” He lifted his head to meet her worried gaze. “How?”
“Through my scrying bowl.”
The fairy wings fluttered in shock. “Truly?”
“Can you help him?”
“Non.” The gargoyle gave a shake of his head. “A vampire can only receive strength from their own kind.”
Fallon surged to her feet. She didn’t know exactly where to find the beautiful Lise, but she had to be close by.
“His clan—”
“Styx,” Levet interrupted, halting her step toward the door.
“The king?”
“Oui.” A grimace wrinkled his tiny snout. “He might be an annoying creature, but he is the most powerful vampire and his position as the Anasso means he has a connection to Cyn.”
It made sense.
Her own father could share his powers with his people when they were in need, giving them strength or assisting the healers on the rare occasion when one of them was grievously wounded.
Still, he was half a world away.
“I can’t form a portal without knowing where I’m going.”
Levet squatted down beside Cyn, his hand pressing to Cyn’s chest. Fallon felt a tiny tingle of magic flow through the air as the gargoyle did his best to keep the vampire’s life-force from slipping away.
“Can you travel to your fiancé?”
Fallon stiffened in confusion. Did the creature think that she was going to run away when Cyn was hurt?
“Why would I want to do that?”
“He’s staying with Styx.” Ignoring Fallon’s gasp, Levet glanced up with a worried expression. “I suggest you hurry.”
Chapter Nine
Styx had reluctantly returned to his lair an hour before sunrise.
Darcy had urged him to remain in St. Louis where she was helping her sister with her new litter of pups, but Styx declined. He’d told her that a vampire didn’t accept the hospitality of the King of Weres. Which wasn’t exactly a lie. While he currently had a truce with Salvatore, it wasn’t that long ago they’d been mortal enemies.
But the truth was that he was feeling growingly uneasy.
It wasn’t just the fact that his mate wasn’t in his bed where she belonged.