Darkness Returns

Book 13: Guardians of Eternity

by Alexandra Ivy

Genres: Paranormal Romance; General Fiction; Romance

Synopsis

More powerful than ever, the Guardians of Eternity are facing their greatest challenge yet: a war within their ranks. Their future is in the hands of one rebel vampire, who must choose between loyalty and love... Blessed with an even more compelling allure than most vampires, Chiron has made a fortune in the human world, creating an empire of resorts and casinos. Since the betrayal and imprisonment of his master, he has existed outside the order of the Guardians, trusting no one. But now, the new vampire king has given him a peace offering: a scroll that could free his master. Following the relic's magic leads him to a demon hotel deep in the Everglades, a lush paradise owned by a mysterious and mesmerizing woman... As far as Lilah knows, she's lived her entire life within the confines of her enchanted estate. Memories of her own past are elusive and cloaked in shadows. Even Chiron can't figure out exactly what she is, and if her intoxicating beauty is his destiny or an illusion drawing him ever closer to his demise-or perhaps to an even more tormenting choice, between his master and his mate...

Release date: April 16, 2019

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 180

Sample

Chapter 1

The sweeping mansion on the edge of Chicago was the perfect setting for an old-time movie star. Built behind a high fence and surrounded by a manicured lawn with a profusion of gardens, it possessed a faded, ageless beauty. Inside, it had an abundance of marble, fluted columns, and gilt that encroached into every nook and cranny. Including the toilets.

But there was no aging human drifting through the thirty-odd rooms. Instead, the place was filled with demons. Vampires, a pureblooded Were, fairies, and a few imps. Oh, and the Anasso, the King of the Vampires.

The current Anasso, Styx, was a six-foot-six male with the stark Aztec features of his ancestors. His dark hair was pulled into a braid that was threaded with turquoise medallions and hung down his back. His massive frame was covered in leather. And he rammed through the house like a bull in a china cabinet.

Not that anyone was stupid enough to laugh when he busted a fragile knickknack. Or when one of the antique chairs collapsed beneath his weight.

Everyone knew he’d chosen the elegant estate at the urging of his mate, Darcy. He would move heaven and earth to please his female. Plus, there was the healthy fear that he would happily lop off the head of anyone who insulted him with his badass sword, which was usually strapped across his back.

Currently, Styx was in his private study, a room he’d managed to strip of most of the froufrou nonsense, although there was no getting rid of the gilt. It infected the place like a plague. At least it had nice, sturdy furniture, along with shelves filled with rare books, manuscripts, and scrolls.

He was standing behind his desk when the door was pushed open and a male vampire strolled in.

Unlike Styx, Viper’s long hair was the silver of moonlight, and he preferred satin to leather. In fact, he dressed like a Regency dandy, with a frilly white shirt and a long velvet coat. Still, anyone foolish enough to think he was anything less than lethal rarely lived long enough to regret their mistake.

“You rang?” the male drawled as he strolled toward the center of the study.

Styx and Viper had been through hell together. Quite literally. In the past few years, they’d battled the Dark Lord, evil witches, and dragons. Which was why he was confident his friend wasn’t going to be happy with what he had to tell him.

“I wanted to let you know that I will be out of town for a few days,” Styx said.

“Not another honeymoon?” Viper arched a brow. “You do know that eventually they’re just called vacations?” He tilted his head, pretending to consider his words. “Unless there’s an orgy involved.”

“I have to go to Vegas.”

“Ah.” Viper smiled. In the light from the chandelier, his fangs glistened as white as snow. “Then there is an orgy involved.”

Styx rolled his eyes. He could only wish he was taking his mate to Vegas. Regardless of what his friend might think, there could never be too many honeymoons.

“This is no vacation. I’ve requested a meeting with the Rebels.”

Viper looked momentarily disappointed, as if he’d been hoping for the orgy scenario. Then his expression brightened.

“Wait, are you going to kill them? I’ll go home and get my sword.”

Styx held up a hand. The Rebels were a clan of vampires, led by Tarak, who’d led an insurrection against the previous Anasso after he’d taken command of the warring clans and consolidated them beneath his rule. At least, that’s the story he’d always been told after Tarak had disappeared. And the one he’d chosen to believe.

Since he’d taken on the duty as king, he’d ignored the Rebels. As long as they minded their business and didn’t cause trouble, they could do what the hell they wanted. Until last night.

Then everything changed.

“No, I’m taking Levet to them.”

Levet was a three-foot gargoyle who’d been a pain in the ass since Viper’s mate, Shay, had rescued him from a slave auction. The creature was intrusive, maddening, and his magic was dangerously unpredictable.

Styx would have him stuffed and mounted on his wall if Darcy and the other females hadn’t been so attached to the ridiculous pest. And there were a few occasions when the gargoyle’s rare talents actually came in handy.

“Ah. An even more devious plot,” his companion drawled. The only one who loathed Levet more than Styx was Viper. “You intend to torture them with that aggravating pest until they kill themselves. Very clever, oh wise and ancient master.”

“Did you just call me ancient?”

Viper shrugged. “Prehistoric?”

Styx narrowed his gaze, the lights in the mansion flickering. All vampires had individual talents. Styx’s was a blast of energy that could cripple his opponent. Unfortunately, his power tended to interfere with modern technology when he was annoyed. “Careful.”

Viper grinned, gloriously unrepentant. “Tell me why you’re taking a gargoyle to Vegas.”

Styx folded his arms over his wide chest. “You remember I told you I was cleaning out the caves?”

“No, but to be fair, I rarely listen when you’re talking.”

Styx made a sound of disgust. “Why do I bother to pretend I’m the Anasso? No one ever pays attention to me.”

“Someone has to be king,” Viper informed him with a shrug. “Tell me about your cave.”

There was more flickering of the lights and a small shudder beneath their feet, but Styx managed to maintain command of his temper. Nothing less than a miracle.

“My Ravens have been using it as temporary housing, but I completed the barracks beneath the estate,” he said. The caves were several miles away and had been his home for decades before Darcy had insisted that his role as king demanded a more elegant setting. He hated to tell her that he far preferred the dark, dank, and sometimes moldy caverns. At least there he didn’t have to worry about breaking something. And he certainly hadn’t had to worry about unwanted guests dropping by. “With no one to guard the entrance, I needed to do something with my previous master’s belongings.”

Viper’s pale features hardened with a sudden burst of fury. The original Anasso had kidnapped Viper’s mate and intended to use her blood to extend his own life.

Needless to say, the two males hadn’t been BFFs.

“Burn them,” the younger vampire snapped. “Or better yet, let me burn them.”

“That’s what I intend to do with the majority of the stuff,” Styx said. In truth, his first impulse had been to pile everything in the middle of the largest cavern and toss a match on top. Unfortunately, he had taken time to sort through the boxes, trunks, and hidden stashes. Now it was too late to solve his problems with a bonfire. “There are a few sensitive items I need to deal with personally.”

“Sensitive?”

“We both know that my master could be ruthless even before he started going mad,” Styx said.

“He was a jerk.”

Styx’s lips twitched. His own relationship with the Anasso had been complicated. He’d admired the vampire’s determination to force the savage vampires out of the Dark Ages and to unite them in a common cause of survival. But his methods had been…questionable.

“As eloquent as always, Viper,” he said dryly.

Viper waved a slender hand. “It’s a gift.”

“Anyway, I found this hidden beneath his bed.” Styx leaned forward to grab the thick scroll off his desk. It was made of papyrus and rolled around a heavy bronze rod. It smelled of age and blood.

“What’s that?” Viper demanded.

“It’s a pact with a coven of witches.”

“Witches?” Viper took a step backward, eyeing the scroll with horror. Magic was the one thing all vampires feared. They had no ability to sense it, which meant they had no way to protect themselves. “No vampire would willingly deal with witches.”

“It gets worse.”

“What?”

Styx felt something in the middle of his chest. A strange pressure. Darcy would no doubt tell him it was guilt, but he refused to accept such a stupid hypothesis. He was a predator. A king. A badass warrior with a badass sword that lopped off heads.

Still, that pressure was annoying.

“My master came to me and swore that Tarak had turned traitor and tried to kill him to claim the throne for himself. He said he’d been forced to exile Tarak and that he wanted me to stand at his side when he proclaimed Tarak’s clansmen as Rebels.”

“Did you?” Viper demanded.

“Yes. I stood proudly beside the king as he made the proclamation that the Rebels were being driven from our territory.” The words were clipped. He hated admitting he was wrong. And he had been epically wrong. He should never have dismissed Chiron, who’d been Tarak’s most loyal servant. The young male had come to him and pleaded for his help after Tarak had disappeared. The younger male refused to believe his master had been a traitor. “I wouldn’t listen to the accusation that the king had captured Tarak.”

“Shit.” Viper widened his dark eyes. It was one thing to kill a chief in battle. In the olden days, it had happened with depressing frequency. But it was considered a cowardly human trick to take a fellow vampire as a hostage. And especially when that vampire was a member of one’s own clan. “It was true?”

“Unfortunately.”

“What happened to him after he was captured?”

The pressure in the center of his chest became more pronounced. As if a very large troll was sitting on him. The damned thing weighed a ton.

“As far as I know, he’s still imprisoned.”

Viper grimaced, then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he took a step forward.

“You’re not thinking about letting him out, are you?”

Styx shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

“Let me think.” Viper mockingly tapped a finger to his chin. “You could release the powerful clan chief who has had several centuries to consider the most creative ways to kill us for holding him prisoner. Or leave him safely locked away.” More tapping on his chin. “Hmm. Tough decision.”

Viper had a point. If Tarak was released, he most certainly would track them down to seek his revenge. That was the least of Styx’s concerns. He was far more worried about the possibility that the vampire would come out of his prison completely insane. Tarak could rampage halfway across the world, slaughtering the innocent, before they managed to stop him.

Styx had spent the previous night contemplating the various risks before he’d made his decision. He wasn’t a vampire who liked to rush into things. Calm. Logical. Persistent. Those were the traits he used as a leader.

“I have to do what’s right,” he said.

Viper snorted. “What’s right is keeping my head attached to my neck.”

“I didn’t ask you here to debate the issue. I just wanted to let you know I would be gone.”

Viper paused. Was he considering the odds of convincing Styx to forget Tarak was locked in some mystical prison? Probably. But the younger vampire wasn’t stupid. He knew once Styx made up his mind, there was no changing it.

Why beat his head against a brick wall?

“What exactly are you going to do in Vegas?” he instead asked.

Styx held up the scroll. “I’m going to give this to Chiron.”

“Chiron,” Viper repeated. “I don’t recognize the name.”

Styx had lost track of the younger vampire after he’d been banished, although he’d heard rumors that Chiron had snuck back into his forbidden territory and started a casino. It’d taken a few hours of research, and cashing in several favors to various demons, to learn that Chiron had settled in Vegas nearly fifty years ago.

“He owns Dreamscape Resorts.”

Viper sent him a shocked glance. “Dreamscape? The chain of casinos and spas spread around the world?”

“I suppose.” Styx didn’t have any interest in casinos or spas. Viper, on the other hand, owned several nightclubs, and despite the fact that his clubs catered to demons rather than humans, he was constantly scoping out the competition. “As far as I can tell, he’s been the public face of the clan. Most of the Rebels disappeared into the shadows over the past centuries.”

“Why take the gargoyle if you’re just handing over the scroll?” Viper demanded. “It can’t be because you enjoy his company.”

Styx shuddered. He’d rather spend the next forty-eight hours being flogged by a drunken troll than be forced to travel with Levet.

He glanced toward the scroll in his hands. “This is the original spell that hides the key to the prison. It was given to the previous Anasso to prove the deed was done.”

“There’s a key?” Viper cast a wary glance toward the scroll. As if it was a ticking time bomb about to explode. Styx didn’t blame him. Witches and magic and hidden prisoners were enough to put any vampire on edge. Which was why he was anxious to hand the thing over to Chiron. Let him deal with it. “Where is it?” Viper demanded.

“I don’t know for sure. I’m hoping Levet will be able to use his ability to trace the magic. It might lead the Rebels to where the key is hidden.”

Viper slowly smiled. “More likely they’ll kill the gargoyle before they can ever find the key. No sane demon could endure that aggravating scourge for more than a few hours. At the same time, you’ll be celebrated as a hero for making amends for the previous king.” Viper offered Styx a mocking bow. “Well played.”

Styx ignored his friend’s hopeful prediction. His luck wasn’t good enough for Chiron to dispose of Levet and give up any attempt to free his master. It was more likely the vampire would free Tarak, who would promptly come to Chicago along with the gargoyle to kill him.

“I should be back before the weekend,” he said. He planned to take his jet, which was waiting at a private airfield, to Vegas tonight and fly home before morning, but if he was delayed for some reason, he didn’t want Viper rushing to his rescue with the Ravens. He was trying to prevent a war, not start one. Then again, he didn’t want to disappear into the Mojave Desert and never be seen again. “If not, come looking for me.”

“Got it.” Viper stiffened, his nose flaring as the scent of granite filtered through the air. “Call if you need anything. Now I’m bailing before—”

His words were cut off as the door to the study was thrown open and Levet stepped inside.

“I have arrived,” the tiny demon announced in a booming voice.

Levet wasn’t what most people expected of a gargoyle.

He had the usual grotesque features, the thick gray skin, the reptilian eyes, the horns, and the cloven hoofs. He even had a long tail he polished on a regular basis. But he was barely three-foot tall, and he possessed a pair of delicate fairy wings that shimmered in vibrant reds and blues with veins of gold. Even worse, his magic was as combustible as a harpy’s temper, and he had more courage than sense.

It was little wonder he had been voted out of the Gargoyle Guild.

“Too late,” Viper muttered.

The stunted gargoyle blew a raspberry toward Viper before he turned his attention to Styx.

“This summons had better be important,” he said with a sniff, as if Styx couldn’t crush him beneath his size sixteen boot. Levet had a bloated opinion of his own importance. “I was enjoying a lava bath with a lovely fire imp.”

Styx forced himself to count to ten. “We’re going to Vegas.”

“Vegas?” Levet’s wings twitched excitement before he abruptly scowled. “This is not a trick, is it? The last time you promised me we were going on a vacation together you locked me in the dungeon.”

Styx bared his fangs. “You tried to sell my sword on eBay.”

Levet stuck out his bottom lip. “I do not know why your panties are in a kink. It is not like you ever use the rusty thing.”

The floor trembled and ice formed in the air as Styx reached over his shoulder to grasp the handle of his massive weapon, which was strapped to his back. With one smooth motion, he had the tip of the blade pressed against Levet’s short snout.

“Lucky you,” he growled. “I’m taking it to Vegas.”

Levet’s wings drooped. “I do not feel very lucky.”

Chapter 2

Chiron’s penthouse office was designed to make a statement. Wealth. Sophistication. Power. The three things that impressed the mortals he dealt with routinely.

The outer reception room had a bank of windows that looked out over the Mojave Desert on one side and the lights of the nearby Vegas Strip on the other. Anyone who entered the room was immediately captivated by the view.

The carpet was silver, the furniture a sleek chrome with black leather. There was one wall covered by shelves that held a priceless collection of pottery from the Persian empire.

Chiron’s private space was more suited to a vampire. No windows, dim lighting, and heavy furniture that could withstand the weight of a full-grown orc. It still managed to be an elegant testament to good taste, with a sleek desk and a silver-and-black décor.

It was a perfect setting for Chiron.

Like all vampires, he was blessed with a compelling beauty that was used to lure his prey. But Chiron’s was even more dramatic than most.

His glossy black hair was cut short and smoothed from his pale, finely sculpted face that was a breath from beautiful. His nose was long and thin, his cheekbones prominent, his brow wide. His lips could curve into a wickedly charming smile or thin with icy displeasure. His eyes were as dark as ebony and surrounded by thick lashes. They were strikingly attractive, but if one looked close enough, they would discover an ancient pain that smoldered in the darkness.

He was currently wearing a tailored Hugo Boss suit, a crisp white shirt, and a smoke-gray tie. His shoes were Italian leather and his cuff links handcrafted. Seated behind his desk, his slender fingers toyed with the ivory dice that were over four centuries old. They were a reminder that life was a gamble.

And that there was no guarantee of a tomorrow.

He lived each night to the fullest.

“It’s a trap,” his companion growled.

Chiron glanced toward the corner where his faithful guard was standing at attention.

Ulric was a pureblood Were with golden eyes that glowed with the power of his inner wolf. His skin was the creamy color of cappuccino and he kept his head shaved. He stood over six foot, with the sort of wide, muscled body that was usually acquired by massive doses of steroids. For Ulric, it was all natural. Along with his rabid temper and an eagerness to use violence to solve his problems. He made the perfect personal guard for Chiron. . .