Sate the Darkness

Book 20: Guardians of Eternity

by Alexandra Ivy

Genres: Fantasy Romance; Vampires

Synopsis

Ryshi—half-jinn, half-imp—is the only male who has ever managed to slip through the minotaur labyrinth and lived to tell the tale. He wasn't so lucky when it came to stealing prized vampire artifacts. Caught and imprisoned, he now has a chance at freedom if he can rescue the gargoyle Levet from that same labyrinth. But he'll have a minder on his mission in the petite, enticing form of Sofie, the vampire he's been fantasizing about for a very long time . . .



Sofie is shunned and feared for her ability to control others' minds. She didn't ask for that gift, and she certainly doesn't want to use those powers to control this gorgeous, sensual demon. Too bad a request from the Anasso isn't up for debate. To rescue the gargoyle, she and Ryshi have to work closely together, and Sofie is compelled to lower her defenses around him in every way—though she expects him to disappear the moment their task is complete. But now that Ryshi has glimpsed what his future could be with Sofie, he's ready to fight for her trust, even against the darkness within . . .



Contains mature themes.

Release date: February 7, 2023

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 256

Sample

Chapter 1

Levet tried to ignore the whispers of the fairies as he pushed his way through the thick underbrush. They were no doubt admiring his large, gossamer wings that sparkled in the moonlight, he told himself. Or perhaps the rigid bulges of his stout body. He might be small for a gargoyle—okay, maybe more than small. He was only three feet tall; still, he was hard in all the right places. Plus, his gray, lumpy features were sheer perfection.

No, wait. He snapped his fingers. They’d no doubt heard the rumors of his most recent battle against evil. As a knight in shining armor, he was often called upon to save the world. Being a hero meant he was constantly recognized by the lesser creatures.

Never slowing, Levet continued to ignore the whispers. At the moment, he didn’t have time for his flock of admirers. He’d spent the past week attempting to track down Troy, the Prince of Imps, who’d mysteriously disappeared. Thankfully, tonight he’d decided to check out the Hunting Grounds, the exclusive demon club outside of Chicago that belonged to Marco, a pureblooded Were. That’s where he’d finally caught the scent of the imp.

Reaching the front door of the cabin that was built on the outskirts of the private club, he banged his fist against the smooth wood.

“’Allo? Troy?”

Levet could hear muffled sound from inside. It sounded like curses. Then a voice called out.

“Troy isn’t here.”

Levet scowled, sniffing the night air. The rich scent of exotic fruit swirled through the breeze. “I can smell you.”

There was more cursing before the door was wrenched open to reveal Troy. The flamboyant imp was absurdly large with the sort of muscles only an orc should possess. He had long hair that shimmered like a river of fire as it tumbled down his back and brilliant green eyes. Currently he was attired in a black lace shirt that clung to his broad chest and white satin pants with fringes down the sides.

He was like a rare, glamorous flower who could lure others into his sensual snare.

Tonight, he didn’t appear to be in the mood to ensnare anyone or anything. There was a peevish expression on his pale face and a sharp-edged impatience in his voice.

“Go away,” he snapped.

Levet pursed his lips, valiantly pretending he didn’t notice the rude greeting. “I need a favor.”

The green eyes widened, as if the imp was shocked by his words. “A favor? Are you kidding me?”

“I do not think so.” Levet considered for a moment before giving a firm nod of his head. “Nope. I am quite certain I need a favor.”

“You trapped me in the netherworld, where I was forced to listen to your endless babbling for what felt like an eternity. And as if that’s not bad enough—and trust me, it was bad enough—you led me straight into the lair of an ifrit who tried to turn me into a crispy critter.” Troy turned to reveal the seat of his pants, which had been cut out to reveal the male’s derrière, red with several blisters. “My ass is still healing, and I had to have a new weave put in my hair.”

Levet clicked his tongue. It wasn’t his fault they’d nearly been fried by the demon from hell. Okay, maybe being sucked into the netherworld might have been a teensy tiny bit his fault, but in the end they’d saved the world, hadn’t they? The stupid creature should be proud to have been included in the daring adventure, not whining like a dew fairy.

“You are such a drama drag,” Levet muttered.

“Queen. I’m a drama queen, you…” Troy shook his head, struggling for the proper word. “Pest.”

“Pest?” Levet blinked. “That is the best you can do?”

The sour scent of citrus blasted through the air. “I’m tired, charred, and in dire need of a vacation that is gargoyle-free. Go away.”

“You have not performed my favor.”

“You want a favor? I’m not going to stab you in the heart with a cursed dagger. That’s your favor. Now go away.”

Levet’s wings fluttered. The male was in a mood. It was inexcusable.

“Party pisser.”

“Pooper. Party pooper. Argh.” Troy grabbed the edge of the door, as if he intended to slam it closed.

“Wait.” Levet took a hasty step forward. “I need you to open a portal.”

“Tough.”

“This is important.”

Troy rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You have to save the world from some new disaster?”

Levet sent the male a confused glance. “I just saved the world, remember? I am on vacation. I wish to return to the merfolk castle.”

“Then have Inga open a portal.”

Levet cleared his throat at the mention of the Queen of the Merfolk. It’d been far too long since he’d been with Inga, and the desire to be reunited had become a ruthless ache in the center of his being.

Others might see a towering ogress with patches of red hair and pointed teeth who had the temper of a rabid hellhound and run screaming in terror, but to Levet she was sheer perfection.

“Non. I desire my return to be a surprise,” he insisted.

Troy stilled, studying Levet as if he’d been struck by a sudden thought. “She won’t open a portal,” he said abruptly.

Levet’s brows snapped together. “Do not be ridiculous. Inga adores moi.”

“Are you sure?” Troy pressed. “You keep running off when she needs you the most. It’s possible she’s done waiting for you.”

The words drilled into Levet with painful force, each one finding a vulnerable spot. It was true he was worried that Inga had become weary of his constant absences. And that perhaps she had decided he was not worth the effort. And Troy was right. When he’d attempted to contact her telepathically, she’d refused to answer.

He wagged a claw in Troy’s direction. “You are a very mean creature.”

Troy shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one who abandoned the female I supposedly care about. That’s on you.”

“I did not abandon—”

Bam. The door slammed in his face. Levet stomped his foot before he turned and marched away. Obviously, the selfish imp wasn’t going to help. He would have to find assistance somewhere else.

“I did not abandon Inga. I was busy saving the world. Again,” he muttered as he left the Hunting Grounds and headed back toward Chicago. He was not technically supposed to be at the demon club after a certain incident that included his fireballs landing in the middle of a werewolf wedding and setting the groom on fire. “And once I can explain why I have been absent from the castle I am certain she will understand,” he continued to try to reassure himself. “Oui. Of course she will.” He heaved a sigh. “But only if she will speak to me.”

He was wandering aimlessly through a flat field that had recently been plowed by a local farmer when he caught a strange scent. It was definitely demon. But he couldn’t recognize the species. Odd. He possessed the best sniffer in the world.

“Who is there?”

There was a shimmer in the air, as if a portal was opening, before a male stepped out to stand directly in front of Levet. Levet blinked. The stranger was huge. Perhaps not as tall as a troll but just as wide, with a strapping chest that was left bare to reveal the light coating of fur. He was thankfully wearing leather pants and heavy boots. Levet was seeing all he wanted to see of the creature. He had long brown hair that flowed down his back like a mane, and dark eyes that appeared too big for his face. Most interesting were the horns that stuck out of the sides of his head and curved toward the sky.

With a frown, the creature leaned down, as if to study Levet more closely. “Are you Levet?”

Levet snorted. That was a silly question. “Who else would I be?”

“I’ve been searching for you.”

“For moi?” Uh-oh. It was never a good thing when someone was searching for him. Especially a stranger.

“It was not my fault.”

The male looked confused. “What wasn’t?”

“Whatever I am being blamed for.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Levet cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. “What do you want from moi?”

The demon tilted back his head, as if contemplating the spattering of stars flung across the midnight sky.

“The precise details have yet to reveal themselves, but—”

“Oh, there’s going to be a revelation?” Levet interrupted, clapping his hands together as he swiveled his head from side to side. “Where? When?”

The male grunted. Did he have an upset tummy? Levet was feeling a little queasy. But that was because he was hungry. It had been far too long since his last meal.

“Are you sure you’re Levet?” he demanded.

“Almost positive.”

“Is there another Levet?”

Levet widened his eyes. “Certainly not. I am quite unique.”

“That is one way to put it.”

“Who are you?” Levet placed his hands on his hips, his tail twitching. There was something sunny about this unknown creature. No, wait. Shady. Oui. The male was shady.

“Odige,” he said.

“Odige.” Levet searched his memory. He’d been alive a very, very long time but he’d never met an Odige before. “That is an unusual name.”

“Not where I’m from.”

“Where is that?”

“Beyond the labyrinth.”

“I do not know where that is…oh.” Levet abruptly realized that the male was revealing the place of his homeland. “Are you a minotaur?”

The male dipped his head. “I am.”

Levet pressed his hands together, excitement searing away his suspicion of the strange beast. He’d assumed that minotaurs were creatures of mist and legend. Now one was standing directly in front of him.

“I have always longed to meet one of you.”

The male stretched his lips in a tight smile. “Then it’s your lucky day.”

“It is?” Levet bounced on his toes. Having a lucky day seemed like a very good thing. “Why?”

“You are going to meet a lot of minotaurs.”

“Truly?” Levet bent to the side, trying to peer around Odige’s massive girth. “Are they here?”

“No, I’m going to take you to them.”

Levet’s wings fluttered with a soul-deep pleasure. He’d never encountered anyone who could claim they’d been through the labyrinth to see the minotaur homeland. He was going to be famous. More famous, he silently corrected. He was, after all, the savior of the world.

Then his wings abruptly drooped. He couldn’t go through the labyrinth. He already had plans for the night.

“Oh…wait. I cannot.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Non.” Levet shook his head. “I mean, I am on a very important mission.”

The male folded his arms over his chest. The gesture emphasized the fact that he was triple Levet’s size.

“The queen will have to wait.”

Levet folded his arms over his much smaller chest, refusing to be intimidated. “She cannot…oh.” He froze, suddenly suspicious. “How did you know that I was referring to Inga?”

The male waved an impatient hand. “We know a great deal about you.”

“How?”

“We have been trying to track you down for a long time. That meant following rumors and gossip and various reports of your whereabouts.”

Levet blinked. “Like a stalker?”

Odige ground his teeth. “Like those who have a wish to find you.”

“Hmm.” Levet wasn’t convinced. “Seems suspicious to moi.”

“There is nothing suspicious,” the male growled. “I was sent to retrieve you and that is what I have done.”

Levet narrowed his eyes. “And if I do not wish to be retrieved?”

“I do not understand why you are being so stubborn.”

“I am not stubborn, I am firm in my resolve,” Levet protested. “And my resolve warns me that it is dangerous to travel to unknown destinations with strangers.”

“There is no danger to you,” the male insisted.

“Well, you would say that, would you not?” Levet flapped his wings. “Especially if you intended to do me harm.”

The male lifted his hands toward the heavens. “Why me?”

Levet scrunched his snout. “Demons say that a lot around me. I am not entirely sure what it means.”

They exchanged fierce glares, both refusing to be the one to back down. The stare-off might have lasted the rest of the night if Levet hadn’t gotten a cramp in his foot.

“Enough.” Levet flexed his toe claws, attempting to ease the knot.

Odige muttered a curse, holding up one large hand. “What if I swear on my goddess that no minotaur will offer you violence?”

Levet shook his head. “It does not matter. I will have to meet the minotaurs another time. Tonight, I must discover a means to open a portal to the merfolk castle.”

There was a heavy silence, as if Odige was debating whether to squash Levet beneath his massive foot, or perhaps see how far he could toss him across the field.

Instead, he shrugged. “I can do that.”

Levet blinked in confusion. “You can do what?”

“Open a portal.”

“Not to the merfolk castle. It is protected by layers of magic. Only a creature with the ability to create portals and permission from the queen can penetrate the illusions without a formal invitation. That is why I was in need of Troy.” Levet wrinkled his snout. “The horse-patootie.”

The minotaur shrugged. “It’s no problem for me. I can walk through any shield, no matter what the source of the magic.”

“Truly?” Levet was genuinely shocked. “I did not know that minotaurs possessed that particular talent.”

“We prefer to keep our magical abilities a secret.”

Levet tapped a claw against the side of his snout. “Ah. It is wise to remain secretive. Mystery is also a part of my unique charm.”

“Allow me.”

Levet stepped back as the male waved his arm in a dramatic gesture. There was the crackle of power before a shimmer rippled around him. Leaning forward, Levet studied the unfamiliar magic. The opening looked more like a gateway than a portal, and there was a distinct scent of ripe wheat and ale. Where was the salty tang and soft ocean breeze?

“Wait.” Levet took another step backward. “This does not smell right.” He was on the point of turning away when a large hand reached down to grab him by the horn. Before he could react he felt himself being hoisted off the ground, and with one mighty swing he was being tossed into the gateway like a Frisbee. Or perhaps it was more like a sack of potatoes, he conceded as he flapped his wings and windmilled his arms in a futile attempt to avoid landing on his derrière. “Help!”

Chapter 2

Spring in Chicago was a volatile time for Styx, the King of Vampires. The unpredictable weather, combined with the breeding season for many demons, ensured that there was rarely a night without some disaster that needed his immediate attention. Not to mention the fact he’d just endured yet another near-end-of-the-world event.

Tonight, however he was off duty. Off with a capital O. And he intended to enjoy every second of his rare respite.

Pretending he didn’t feel like an idiot, he’d swapped his usual leather pants and knee-high shitkickers for a white satin shirt and black silk pants. He’d even allowed his black hair to flow down his back. He would never look civilized. He was a six-foot-five vampire with the bronzed skin and proud angular features of an Aztec warrior. And the very air shimmered with the force of his power. But he was doing his best to have a romantic evening with his mate, Darcy.

The slender, almost fragile female walking next to him didn’t look like the mate of the most powerful vampire in the world. And she most certainly didn’t look like a pureblooded Were. Her heart-shaped face was pale and unbearably vulnerable and her blond hair ridiculously spiked like a human teenager’s. She was even wearing casual jeans and a sweatshirt that emphasized her youthful appearance.

At the moment, her eyes were squeezed shut as he led her through the maze of marble corridors lined with fluted columns. His lair on the outskirts of Chicago was a gilded monstrosity that should have belonged to an aging rocker with questionable taste. Not the Anasso, King of Vampires. In fact, as far as Styx was concerned the estate would have been improved with a match and several sticks of dynamite. Unfortunately, Darcy was convinced that the place suited his position. And Styx was willing to endure any amount of torture if it pleased his mate.

“What are you up to?” she complained as he turned into a short hallway that ended in a lavish set of double doors.

“Don’t you trust me?” Styx demanded.

“With my life? Without hesitation. With my heart? Always. With the choice of my evening entertainment?” Her lips pinched. “Hmm.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You took me to watch two trolls mud wrestle for our anniversary.”

Styx clenched his fangs. Viper, the current clan chief of Chicago, was one of his closest advisors and a male he considered a friend, but there was no doubt the vampire could be a pain in the ass.

“Viper told me that the Trolls in Mud were a new musical group.”

Darcy snorted. “And you believed him?”

“It made as much sense as Hoobastank or Smashing Pumpkins,” Styx protested, not adding that he’d been relieved to discover that it was actually trolls in a mud battle. That was a lot more fun than humans screaming into a microphone.

“Fair enough,” Darcy conceded.

“I did good this time. I promise.”

Styx pushed open the library door and led her inside. It was a beautiful room. The long space was framed with heavy wooden shelves that were loaded with rare books and a large window that overlooked the moon-drenched rose garden. In the center of the Persian carpets that covered the floor was a table that was decorated with candles, a dozen roses, and an ice bucket that was chilling a bottle of Dom Pérignon. There was also a silver serving plate that was currently covered with a linen napkin.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded.

Slowly Darcy lifted the heavy sweep of her lashes, her lips parting in appreciation.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Good?”

“Very good.” She crossed the carpet to pull the linen off the dinner plate. “Eggplant parmesan. My favorite. Yum.” She sucked in a deep breath, her gaze widening as she caught sight of the massive fireplace where logs were burning with a bright light. Styx rarely allowed a fire in his presence. Vampires were highly flammable creatures. Then she pointed toward the empty sheath attached to the wall above the mantel. “Where’s your sword?”

“Gone,” he said, keeping his answer vague.

She turned back with a worried expression. “Levet didn’t sell it on eBay again, did he?”

Styx ground his fangs. The aggravating miniature gargoyle had tried to hock his massive weapon more than once. Idiotic pest.

“No. It’s put away.” Styx moved to wrap his arms around his beautiful mate. “Plus, the doors are locked and I put out word that if I’m interrupted I will rip off heads first and ask questions later.”

Darcy smoothed her hands over his chest, the warmth of her palms searing through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Very dramatic.”

A low growl rumbled in Styx’s throat. The touch from this female was as exciting tonight as it had been fifteen years ago. And would be a hundred years from now. Fate had created him to adore her for all eternity.

“For one night I refuse to be the Anasso,” he murmured, his large hand following the curve of her spine to cup her slender neck. Already his fangs were fully extended in the anticipation of tasting her sweet. . .