Shades of Darkness
Book 16:
Guardians of Eternity
Chaaya endured centuries as a sacrifice, protecting her people from an evil that could destabilize all magic.
Genres:
Paranormal Romance
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Synopsis
The Guardians of Eternity think they've averted the disaster that could destroy them. But in New York Times bestselling author Alexandra Ivy's world of temptation, lust, and secrets, one slip could change everything . . .
Chaaya endured centuries as a sacrifice, protecting her people from an evil that could destabilize all magic. At long last, her servitude is over—and she's raring to have some fun. The baddest ghost-girl in Las Vegas has a talent for causing mayhem. And for getting under the skin of her solid, silent bodyguard, the vampire Basq . . .
Basq doesn't let anyone close. He's learned the costs of companionship. But reckless, disrespectful Chaaya, with her fiery temper and her fierce loneliness, isn't like anyone else. Staying near her isn't just a duty, it's a hunger. When a prisoner of Chaaya's last battle escapes, possibly seeking Chaaya's nemesis, Basq isn't letting her chase through a hellscape mirror London alone. But when the choice is between abandoning everything that's kept them alive, or each other, survival will take not only desire—but trust . . .
Contains mature themes.
Release date: November 10, 2020
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Print pages: 210
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Shades of Darkness
Alexandra Ivy
Chapter 1
Mer-folk castle, late fall
Troy, Prince of Imps, stifled a yawn as he strolled through the marble corridor of the mer-folk castle. It was a stunningly beautiful place that stretched for endless miles beneath the ocean. The walls were decorated with exquisite murals, and massive chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings. There were carved statues lining the wide corridors and delicate furnishings covered in fabrics that shimmered in pale shades of blue and green.
Even better, the beautiful mer-folk drifted through the spiderweb of rooms in gossamer gowns that left little to the imagination.
So why was he bored?
Troy halted in front of a section of wall that was a clear panel to reveal the dark waters outside the castle that were populated with dazzling reefs and fish that glowed with an effervescent light. Tilting his head to the side, he admired his reflection.
He truly was a glorious sight with his brilliant hair flowing down his back like a river of fire. His face was long and pale, with vivid green eyes that held the sort of sensual power to bring most creatures to their knees. Precisely where he liked them. He was also tall and slender, with bulging muscles that he made sure to emphasize with the one-piece spandex outfit in a vibrant shade of pink he was currently wearing.
He was an exotic butterfly among a field of lilies.
Troy stifled another yawn. He was accustomed to the bright lights of big cities and the naughty delights of his various strip joints. In contrast, the mer-folk were tedious, peace-loving fey who had tragically become even more boring after Chaaya was sent to live in Vegas with Chiron and his new mate, Lilah. The young female, sacrificed to protect the world centuries ago and then recently rescued from the dark dimension, had provided plenty of entertainment. Her name should have been chaos, not Chaaya.
But now…
Troy shook his head. Why did he linger in this place?
He answered his own inner question as he turned to walk toward the massive double doors at the end of the corridor.
Inga, Queen of the Mer-folk.
That’s why he stayed.
It wasn’t that he was in love with the female who was a mongrel mix of ogress and mermaid, although he took epic delight in tweaking Levet’s miniature snout by pretending a romantic interest. But he was utterly committed to ensuring that Inga succeeded in her new role as the leader of the mer-folk.
She was one of the few demons who possessed a genuinely pure soul. Even after she’d been abused by slavers and manipulated by Riven, the former mer-folk king, and then shoved into a position she never expected and didn’t want.
Every day she woke up determined to do the best for her people, even those who hated her for being a mongrel.
Who didn’t root for an underdog?
Plus, Troy had to admit there was a glorious satisfaction in being a king maker. Or in this case, a queen maker.
He was the power behind the throne.
Lost in his thoughts, Troy was distracted by the sound of voices echoing through the air.
“You are not going to bother the queen with this, Riza,” a male voice chided in surprisingly loud tones. As if he was aggravated at repeating the same words over and over.
“She needs to know, Jord,” a second male stubbornly retorted.
There was the click of boots on marble, then the two males stepped out of a narrow hallway that led down to the lower chambers.
They were both tall and willowy like all mermen with long, pale hair that was tinted with blue. And they were both wearing the strange armor that looked like overlapping scales, with short tridents belted at their sides. To the untrained eye they looked like toy soldiers, but Troy knew that shimmering armor was stronger than steel and the tridents could shoot out silver threads that wrapped around their opponent to trap them in an inescapable net.
“Do you intend to make a personal report to the queen each time the prisoner sneezes?” the taller of the two demanded, his too-pretty features set in an expression of arrogant disdain. “Or if she refused to eat her dessert?”
Riza scowled. His face was rounder, with a hint of petulance in the youthful features. “There’s something weird about that female talking to herself all the time.”
Jord snorted. “Prisoners do weird things. They sing. They yell. They see pink elephants. It has something to do with being locked in the dungeons.”
“But—”
“If the two of you wish to squabble like children, you should loiter outside the nursery, not the royal chambers,” Troy chided.
The two men came to an abrupt halt, as if they’d been so intent on their argument, they hadn’t noticed a six-foot imp in pink spandex standing in the middle of the corridor.
Hard to believe.
Jord sent him an impatient frown. Troy’s sardonic refusal to concede that the mer-folk were superior to other fey creatures meant he wasn’t a favorite among the natives. That was fine. He wasn’t there to win friends. His only concern was Inga and whether or not she was being treated with the respect and loyalty she deserved.
Riza stepped forward. “I need to speak with Queen Inga.”
“I’m sure she’s busy,” Jord snapped.
“Of course she’s busy, she’s the queen,” Troy drawled, covertly studying the younger male. He was obviously upset. Maybe Inga should find out what was going on before Troy ran them off. “But I am certain she can make time for one of her loyal subjects.”
Jord made a sound of impatience. “I assure you it’s not necessary.”
Troy arched a brow. Why was the male so determined to keep the younger guard away from the queen? Was he the usual arrogant ass who enjoyed bullying anyone who happened to be his underling? Or did he have another reason for trying to silence the younger male?
Only one way to find out.
Troy moved to rap his knuckles against a gilded door, waiting for Inga to call out for them to enter before pushing it open. He stepped over the threshold and entered the room that matched the rest of the castle, with lots of marble and fluted columns and sparkling chandeliers. The major difference was the large dais that held the velvet and gold throne.
A throne that was currently empty.
Troy rolled his eyes, already knowing what he was about to discover as he strolled up the crimson runner that led the way to the dais. Sure enough, there was the sound of grunting as Inga struggled to her feet, and then she abruptly appeared from behind the throne.
“Good morning, Troy.”
She didn’t look like the Queen of the Mer-folk. There was none of her mother’s ephemeral beauty; instead she’d inherited her ogre father’s sturdy body that stood well over six foot, with shoulders broad enough to make a football player proud. Beneath her drunkenly tilted crown, her reddish hair grew in tufts and her features were carved with a blunt lack of finesse. Her blue eyes were the only hint that she had mermaid blood in her veins, but they flashed an ogre-red when she was annoyed. Which was more often than not.
At the moment she wore a hideous muumuu dress that was an insult to fashion. The billowing gown was a strange shade of olive with big yellow and orange flowers splattered over it. She was also speckled with paint.
A delicate shudder raced through Troy. He’d finally convinced this female to spend at least a few hours in the throne room each day, listening to the concerns of her people, but whenever she had a moment alone, she lost herself in her love for painting. It was a harmless hobby, he acknowledged, and she was exquisitely talented. The murals on the walls of the throne room were now the finest in all the castle. Still, she looked like she’d been sucked through a whirlpool, rolled in a multicolor mud pit, and tossed out the other side.
Thankfully, she had the massive trident clutched in her hand. The Tryshu was a magical artifact that chose the leader of the mer-folk. As long as Inga was holding it, there was no question that she was the queen.
Stopping next to the dais, Troy offered an elaborate bow. “Your Majesty,” he said in deep, formal tones.
Belatedly realizing that Troy wasn’t alone, Inga grudgingly straightened her crown and forced a smile that revealed her pointed teeth.
“Are you here to see me?” she demanded.
Both guards offered polite bows. “I apologize for interrupting, Your Majesty,” Jord said, sending his companion a foul glare. “Riza is one of our younger guards. I fear he’s prone to exaggerating.”
Riza folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not exaggerating.”
Inga blinked in confusion. “Exaggerating about what?”
“The prisoner,” Riza said.
Inga’s confusion deepened. “Which one?”
“The pureblooded Were,” Riza clarified.
Inga stiffened in alarm. “Brigette?”
Riza nodded. “Yes.”
“What about her?”
The younger guard paled, clearly intimidated by the towering ogress holding a trident that could destroy the entire castle with one blast.
“I…” Riza stopped to clear his throat. “I heard her talking.”
Inga glanced toward Troy. He shrugged and she returned her attention to the guard.
“No one is supposed to enter her cell except for me, and I haven’t been down there for days.”
“That’s why I went to check on her.”
“And?”
Riza grimaced. “She was alone.”
Troy narrowed his eyes. It would be easy to overreact after Brigette had nearly managed to destroy their world.
“Perhaps she’s become unhinged,” he suggested. “She did spend five centuries as a handmaiden to an evil beastie-thing.”
“That’s what I thought,” Riza said. “But she keeps doing it. And the last time I checked on her, I was sure I caught sight of a shadow in the cell with her.”
Inga hissed in alarm. “A shadow?”
“It was probably just a figment of his imagination.” Jord intruded into the conversation, his expression grim.
“It was not,” Riza stubbornly insisted. “I know what I saw.”
Troy moved toward the guard. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Riza turned his back on his glowering companion to speak directly to Troy. “I was on duty when I heard the female babbling about pledging her loyalty and promising to obey without question.”
“Did you hear a name?” Troy pressed.
“Name?”
“Was Zella mentioned?”
The guard wrinkled his nose. “I suppose she might have said Zella.”
Inga muttered a curse. “This can’t be good.”
“The understatement of the century,” Troy muttered. “And well past our pay grade.” He squared his shoulders. “We need Chaaya.”
* * * *
Dreamscape Resort, Vegas
Chiron didn’t exactly stomp across the casino floor. He was, after all, a sophisticated, flawlessly elegant vampire with an image to maintain. Only a child indulged in temper tantrums.
Still, the humans seated in front of the flashing slot machines or clustered around the roulette tables shivered with unease as he passed. They didn’t realize they’d been brushed by the icy power of his seething temper, but in the most primitive parts of their mind, they realized there was danger in the area.
He ignored the lingering gazes that followed him. He knew what the humans were seeing: a slender male with devilishly handsome features. His dark hair was cut short and smoothed from his lean face. Next they would notice the designer suit that cost a fortune. From there they would decide that he couldn’t be responsible for their vague sense of anxiety and return their attention to their gambling. They would never suspect he was a monster beneath his polished façade.
Chiron cast a last glance around the casino before heading toward the back of the vast space. He was in dire need of some peace and quiet, and the only place to find that was in his office at the top of the hotel.
He’d managed to make it out of the public rooms and was waiting for the doors of his private elevator to slide open when his luck ran out. For the hundredth time that night.
Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
“Go away,” he snapped as a large male approached from behind.
Basq ignored his command, halting next to Chiron.
The younger male was taller with a thicker build than Chiron. His features were carved with bold strokes, giving him an impressive nose and wide brow. His jaw was square, and his full lips were pressed into a stern line. His brown hair was long enough to brush his shoulders and the top layer was pulled back and tied with a leather strip. It was his eyes, however, that captured the most attention. They were rimmed with a deep brown and progressively lightened to a pure white in the center.
The male had been a member of Tarak’s clan until Tarak had joined with the previous Anasso. Chiron wasn’t entirely certain where Basq had gone or what he’d been doing for the past centuries, but a few years ago he’d shown up at Dreamscape Resort and asked for a job.
Chiron had taken him in without question.
The male would always be his brother.
“For a vampire who just mated the love of your life and rescued your master from the bastard that held him captive for over five hundred years, you’re in a crappy mood,” Basq said.
Chiron searched the male’s face for any hint of mockery. There was nothing. Basq had a special talent for hiding his emotions. Or maybe he didn’t have any. Hard to say for sure.
“I seriously underestimated how much I depended on Ulric. I can’t leave my office without a dozen employees harassing me about their tedious problems,” Chiron groused. “So far tonight the kitchen staff has threatened revolt because the chef changed the menu without telling them, a janitor fell and broke his leg, and two customers got into a drunken brawl and destroyed one of the roulette tables. It’s not even midnight.”
The elevator doors slid open and both males stepped inside. “It was Ulric’s job to make sure you weren’t bothered with the staff,” Basq reminded him.
Chiron scowled. Ulric was a pureblooded Were who’d been Chiron’s most trusted companion for centuries. Together they’d created the chain of resorts that catered to humans around the world. But six weeks ago, the male had left Vegas.
“Plus, he mated my most valuable employee and now she’s gone with him.” Chiron continued his complaint, stabbing the top button on the electronic panel.
Rainn had only been with Dreamscape for twenty years or so, but she’d earned a spot as a trusted manager. She was also a rare zephyr spite who wanted to return to her family, taking Ulric with her to some super-secret, on-a-need-to-know-basis spot deep beneath the desert.
“I thought you were pleased for him?” Basq reminded him.
“I was until I realized his happiness was going to be a pain in the ass,” Chiron told his companion. “Do you know, until the past month I would have sworn that Dreamscape Resorts runs like a well-oiled machine? Now I’m wondering if it’ll survive the night.”
“It would be easier if you shared Ulric’s duties.”
Chiron glanced at his clansman. “Are you offering?”
The male arched a brow. “Do you really want me dealing with the humans?”
A shudder raced through Chiron. Basq wasn’t much of a people person. Not unless they were on the menu. He was, however, an extraordinary warrior. And utterly loyal. Perfect for the head of Dreamscape security.
“No, thanks,” he said in dry tones. “Ulric can be…”
“Surly? Rabid?” Basq suggested as Chiron struggled for the proper word.
“Both,” Chiron agreed. “But he has a surprising skill in dealing with the staff and customers.”
“The same skill Lilah possesses.”
The doors slid open with a small hiss. Chiron stepped out of the elevator, his expression tightening.
Lilah…
It’d been several months since he’d mated the gloriously delectable witch, but it still felt like a miracle every time he thought of her. He couldn’t believe that she was truly bound to him for the rest of eternity.
Which might explain why he wanted to treat her like a princess. She was too precious for him to risk.
“I want to pamper her, not bury her in work,” he said, crossing the outer reception room.
Basq followed behind him, pausing to glance out the bank of windows that looked over the Mojave Desert on one side and the Vegas Strip on the other.
Chiron wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the stunning view. Instead he marched across the room that was decorated with a silver carpet and sleek chrome with black leather furniture, then he entered his private space that had been specifically created for the needs of a vampire. There were no windows, the lighting was muted, and the furniture was built to endure the weight of an elephant although it maintained a sleek elegance.
Moving to lean against the silver and glass desk, Chiron folded his arms over his chest as Basq halted directly in front of him.
“Have you asked Lilah what she wants?” the younger male demanded.
Chiron flashed his fangs. Everyone knew what Lilah wanted. She was quite…vocal when she thought that Chiron wasn’t giving her enough responsibility.
If it was up to his ambitious witch, she’d be in charge of the entire Dreamscape empire. Hell, she’d be in charge of the world.
“Stop being sensible,” Chiron growled. “It’s annoying.”
Basq grimaced. “I’m about to become even more annoying.”
“What now?”
“The human girl.”
“Chaaya?” Chiron asked, even though there was only one creature who could inspire the frustration that was smoldering in Basq’s eyes.
Chaaya wasn’t exactly a girl, considering she was older than both Chiron and Basq. And she wasn’t exactly a human, since she’d been sacrificed centuries ago to battle against the evil beast that Ulric had recently encountered.
The truth was that no one knew exactly what she was.
Well, they knew she was a cyclone of endless trouble.
She drank, she cheated his guests at cards, she drove his staff to the brink of homicide and went out of her way to piss him off. Not a night passed that he didn’t want to toss her into some dark, dreary dungeon. Unfortunately, he didn’t happen to have one of those handy here in Vegas. And even if he did, he was fairly confident it wouldn’t hold the girl.
As if to confirm his dark thoughts, Basq clenched his hands. “She’s gone.”
“Again?” Chiron made a sound of annoyance. After Chaaya had been caught using her strange, unpredictable powers to screw with the slot machines, Chiron had insisted that she have an escort when she left her private rooms. A vampire escort.
“I thought you had a guard watching her?”
Basq managed to look more grim than usual. An astonishing accomplishment.
“I was watching her.”
“She got past you?” Chiron didn’t hide his surprise. “I know you’re getting old, but damn. That’s just embarrassing.”
Basq wasn’t amused. “She went into her rooms. I waited outside the door, but she didn’t come back out. I finally went in to check on her…” He shrugged. “And she was gone.”
Chiron studied his companion in confusion. “Are you claiming she created a portal?”
Basq hesitated. Almost as if he didn’t want to share his suspicion. “My guess is that she walked through the wall,” he at last admitted.
Chiron’s lips parted to argue, then he shook his head. Chaaya was still discovering her powers. And since she was technically a ghost, it was quite plausible that she could walk through walls.
Just what he needed.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “I’m done with that damned creature. I don’t care if she saved Ulric’s life or not.”
Basq snorted. “I wish I believed you.”
Chiron cursed. Basq was right. He could huff and puff and threaten all he wanted. For now they had no idea what Chaaya was or how she’d been connected to the evil spirit. Someone had to keep an eye on her. And for now, he was stuck with the aggravating task.
Lucky him.
“Did you track her down?” he demanded.
Basq nodded. “She’s at the Viper’s Nest.”
The Viper’s Nest was an elegant demon club that catered to vampires. It was also an “invitation only” sort of place. And Chiron was willing to bet his last dollar that Chaaya would be the last person on the invitation list.
“You’re sure?”
“I followed her there myself.”
Chiron frowned. “Why the hell would she go there? She usually prefers the filthy bars . . .
Mer-folk castle, late fall
Troy, Prince of Imps, stifled a yawn as he strolled through the marble corridor of the mer-folk castle. It was a stunningly beautiful place that stretched for endless miles beneath the ocean. The walls were decorated with exquisite murals, and massive chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings. There were carved statues lining the wide corridors and delicate furnishings covered in fabrics that shimmered in pale shades of blue and green.
Even better, the beautiful mer-folk drifted through the spiderweb of rooms in gossamer gowns that left little to the imagination.
So why was he bored?
Troy halted in front of a section of wall that was a clear panel to reveal the dark waters outside the castle that were populated with dazzling reefs and fish that glowed with an effervescent light. Tilting his head to the side, he admired his reflection.
He truly was a glorious sight with his brilliant hair flowing down his back like a river of fire. His face was long and pale, with vivid green eyes that held the sort of sensual power to bring most creatures to their knees. Precisely where he liked them. He was also tall and slender, with bulging muscles that he made sure to emphasize with the one-piece spandex outfit in a vibrant shade of pink he was currently wearing.
He was an exotic butterfly among a field of lilies.
Troy stifled another yawn. He was accustomed to the bright lights of big cities and the naughty delights of his various strip joints. In contrast, the mer-folk were tedious, peace-loving fey who had tragically become even more boring after Chaaya was sent to live in Vegas with Chiron and his new mate, Lilah. The young female, sacrificed to protect the world centuries ago and then recently rescued from the dark dimension, had provided plenty of entertainment. Her name should have been chaos, not Chaaya.
But now…
Troy shook his head. Why did he linger in this place?
He answered his own inner question as he turned to walk toward the massive double doors at the end of the corridor.
Inga, Queen of the Mer-folk.
That’s why he stayed.
It wasn’t that he was in love with the female who was a mongrel mix of ogress and mermaid, although he took epic delight in tweaking Levet’s miniature snout by pretending a romantic interest. But he was utterly committed to ensuring that Inga succeeded in her new role as the leader of the mer-folk.
She was one of the few demons who possessed a genuinely pure soul. Even after she’d been abused by slavers and manipulated by Riven, the former mer-folk king, and then shoved into a position she never expected and didn’t want.
Every day she woke up determined to do the best for her people, even those who hated her for being a mongrel.
Who didn’t root for an underdog?
Plus, Troy had to admit there was a glorious satisfaction in being a king maker. Or in this case, a queen maker.
He was the power behind the throne.
Lost in his thoughts, Troy was distracted by the sound of voices echoing through the air.
“You are not going to bother the queen with this, Riza,” a male voice chided in surprisingly loud tones. As if he was aggravated at repeating the same words over and over.
“She needs to know, Jord,” a second male stubbornly retorted.
There was the click of boots on marble, then the two males stepped out of a narrow hallway that led down to the lower chambers.
They were both tall and willowy like all mermen with long, pale hair that was tinted with blue. And they were both wearing the strange armor that looked like overlapping scales, with short tridents belted at their sides. To the untrained eye they looked like toy soldiers, but Troy knew that shimmering armor was stronger than steel and the tridents could shoot out silver threads that wrapped around their opponent to trap them in an inescapable net.
“Do you intend to make a personal report to the queen each time the prisoner sneezes?” the taller of the two demanded, his too-pretty features set in an expression of arrogant disdain. “Or if she refused to eat her dessert?”
Riza scowled. His face was rounder, with a hint of petulance in the youthful features. “There’s something weird about that female talking to herself all the time.”
Jord snorted. “Prisoners do weird things. They sing. They yell. They see pink elephants. It has something to do with being locked in the dungeons.”
“But—”
“If the two of you wish to squabble like children, you should loiter outside the nursery, not the royal chambers,” Troy chided.
The two men came to an abrupt halt, as if they’d been so intent on their argument, they hadn’t noticed a six-foot imp in pink spandex standing in the middle of the corridor.
Hard to believe.
Jord sent him an impatient frown. Troy’s sardonic refusal to concede that the mer-folk were superior to other fey creatures meant he wasn’t a favorite among the natives. That was fine. He wasn’t there to win friends. His only concern was Inga and whether or not she was being treated with the respect and loyalty she deserved.
Riza stepped forward. “I need to speak with Queen Inga.”
“I’m sure she’s busy,” Jord snapped.
“Of course she’s busy, she’s the queen,” Troy drawled, covertly studying the younger male. He was obviously upset. Maybe Inga should find out what was going on before Troy ran them off. “But I am certain she can make time for one of her loyal subjects.”
Jord made a sound of impatience. “I assure you it’s not necessary.”
Troy arched a brow. Why was the male so determined to keep the younger guard away from the queen? Was he the usual arrogant ass who enjoyed bullying anyone who happened to be his underling? Or did he have another reason for trying to silence the younger male?
Only one way to find out.
Troy moved to rap his knuckles against a gilded door, waiting for Inga to call out for them to enter before pushing it open. He stepped over the threshold and entered the room that matched the rest of the castle, with lots of marble and fluted columns and sparkling chandeliers. The major difference was the large dais that held the velvet and gold throne.
A throne that was currently empty.
Troy rolled his eyes, already knowing what he was about to discover as he strolled up the crimson runner that led the way to the dais. Sure enough, there was the sound of grunting as Inga struggled to her feet, and then she abruptly appeared from behind the throne.
“Good morning, Troy.”
She didn’t look like the Queen of the Mer-folk. There was none of her mother’s ephemeral beauty; instead she’d inherited her ogre father’s sturdy body that stood well over six foot, with shoulders broad enough to make a football player proud. Beneath her drunkenly tilted crown, her reddish hair grew in tufts and her features were carved with a blunt lack of finesse. Her blue eyes were the only hint that she had mermaid blood in her veins, but they flashed an ogre-red when she was annoyed. Which was more often than not.
At the moment she wore a hideous muumuu dress that was an insult to fashion. The billowing gown was a strange shade of olive with big yellow and orange flowers splattered over it. She was also speckled with paint.
A delicate shudder raced through Troy. He’d finally convinced this female to spend at least a few hours in the throne room each day, listening to the concerns of her people, but whenever she had a moment alone, she lost herself in her love for painting. It was a harmless hobby, he acknowledged, and she was exquisitely talented. The murals on the walls of the throne room were now the finest in all the castle. Still, she looked like she’d been sucked through a whirlpool, rolled in a multicolor mud pit, and tossed out the other side.
Thankfully, she had the massive trident clutched in her hand. The Tryshu was a magical artifact that chose the leader of the mer-folk. As long as Inga was holding it, there was no question that she was the queen.
Stopping next to the dais, Troy offered an elaborate bow. “Your Majesty,” he said in deep, formal tones.
Belatedly realizing that Troy wasn’t alone, Inga grudgingly straightened her crown and forced a smile that revealed her pointed teeth.
“Are you here to see me?” she demanded.
Both guards offered polite bows. “I apologize for interrupting, Your Majesty,” Jord said, sending his companion a foul glare. “Riza is one of our younger guards. I fear he’s prone to exaggerating.”
Riza folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not exaggerating.”
Inga blinked in confusion. “Exaggerating about what?”
“The prisoner,” Riza said.
Inga’s confusion deepened. “Which one?”
“The pureblooded Were,” Riza clarified.
Inga stiffened in alarm. “Brigette?”
Riza nodded. “Yes.”
“What about her?”
The younger guard paled, clearly intimidated by the towering ogress holding a trident that could destroy the entire castle with one blast.
“I…” Riza stopped to clear his throat. “I heard her talking.”
Inga glanced toward Troy. He shrugged and she returned her attention to the guard.
“No one is supposed to enter her cell except for me, and I haven’t been down there for days.”
“That’s why I went to check on her.”
“And?”
Riza grimaced. “She was alone.”
Troy narrowed his eyes. It would be easy to overreact after Brigette had nearly managed to destroy their world.
“Perhaps she’s become unhinged,” he suggested. “She did spend five centuries as a handmaiden to an evil beastie-thing.”
“That’s what I thought,” Riza said. “But she keeps doing it. And the last time I checked on her, I was sure I caught sight of a shadow in the cell with her.”
Inga hissed in alarm. “A shadow?”
“It was probably just a figment of his imagination.” Jord intruded into the conversation, his expression grim.
“It was not,” Riza stubbornly insisted. “I know what I saw.”
Troy moved toward the guard. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Riza turned his back on his glowering companion to speak directly to Troy. “I was on duty when I heard the female babbling about pledging her loyalty and promising to obey without question.”
“Did you hear a name?” Troy pressed.
“Name?”
“Was Zella mentioned?”
The guard wrinkled his nose. “I suppose she might have said Zella.”
Inga muttered a curse. “This can’t be good.”
“The understatement of the century,” Troy muttered. “And well past our pay grade.” He squared his shoulders. “We need Chaaya.”
* * * *
Dreamscape Resort, Vegas
Chiron didn’t exactly stomp across the casino floor. He was, after all, a sophisticated, flawlessly elegant vampire with an image to maintain. Only a child indulged in temper tantrums.
Still, the humans seated in front of the flashing slot machines or clustered around the roulette tables shivered with unease as he passed. They didn’t realize they’d been brushed by the icy power of his seething temper, but in the most primitive parts of their mind, they realized there was danger in the area.
He ignored the lingering gazes that followed him. He knew what the humans were seeing: a slender male with devilishly handsome features. His dark hair was cut short and smoothed from his lean face. Next they would notice the designer suit that cost a fortune. From there they would decide that he couldn’t be responsible for their vague sense of anxiety and return their attention to their gambling. They would never suspect he was a monster beneath his polished façade.
Chiron cast a last glance around the casino before heading toward the back of the vast space. He was in dire need of some peace and quiet, and the only place to find that was in his office at the top of the hotel.
He’d managed to make it out of the public rooms and was waiting for the doors of his private elevator to slide open when his luck ran out. For the hundredth time that night.
Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
“Go away,” he snapped as a large male approached from behind.
Basq ignored his command, halting next to Chiron.
The younger male was taller with a thicker build than Chiron. His features were carved with bold strokes, giving him an impressive nose and wide brow. His jaw was square, and his full lips were pressed into a stern line. His brown hair was long enough to brush his shoulders and the top layer was pulled back and tied with a leather strip. It was his eyes, however, that captured the most attention. They were rimmed with a deep brown and progressively lightened to a pure white in the center.
The male had been a member of Tarak’s clan until Tarak had joined with the previous Anasso. Chiron wasn’t entirely certain where Basq had gone or what he’d been doing for the past centuries, but a few years ago he’d shown up at Dreamscape Resort and asked for a job.
Chiron had taken him in without question.
The male would always be his brother.
“For a vampire who just mated the love of your life and rescued your master from the bastard that held him captive for over five hundred years, you’re in a crappy mood,” Basq said.
Chiron searched the male’s face for any hint of mockery. There was nothing. Basq had a special talent for hiding his emotions. Or maybe he didn’t have any. Hard to say for sure.
“I seriously underestimated how much I depended on Ulric. I can’t leave my office without a dozen employees harassing me about their tedious problems,” Chiron groused. “So far tonight the kitchen staff has threatened revolt because the chef changed the menu without telling them, a janitor fell and broke his leg, and two customers got into a drunken brawl and destroyed one of the roulette tables. It’s not even midnight.”
The elevator doors slid open and both males stepped inside. “It was Ulric’s job to make sure you weren’t bothered with the staff,” Basq reminded him.
Chiron scowled. Ulric was a pureblooded Were who’d been Chiron’s most trusted companion for centuries. Together they’d created the chain of resorts that catered to humans around the world. But six weeks ago, the male had left Vegas.
“Plus, he mated my most valuable employee and now she’s gone with him.” Chiron continued his complaint, stabbing the top button on the electronic panel.
Rainn had only been with Dreamscape for twenty years or so, but she’d earned a spot as a trusted manager. She was also a rare zephyr spite who wanted to return to her family, taking Ulric with her to some super-secret, on-a-need-to-know-basis spot deep beneath the desert.
“I thought you were pleased for him?” Basq reminded him.
“I was until I realized his happiness was going to be a pain in the ass,” Chiron told his companion. “Do you know, until the past month I would have sworn that Dreamscape Resorts runs like a well-oiled machine? Now I’m wondering if it’ll survive the night.”
“It would be easier if you shared Ulric’s duties.”
Chiron glanced at his clansman. “Are you offering?”
The male arched a brow. “Do you really want me dealing with the humans?”
A shudder raced through Chiron. Basq wasn’t much of a people person. Not unless they were on the menu. He was, however, an extraordinary warrior. And utterly loyal. Perfect for the head of Dreamscape security.
“No, thanks,” he said in dry tones. “Ulric can be…”
“Surly? Rabid?” Basq suggested as Chiron struggled for the proper word.
“Both,” Chiron agreed. “But he has a surprising skill in dealing with the staff and customers.”
“The same skill Lilah possesses.”
The doors slid open with a small hiss. Chiron stepped out of the elevator, his expression tightening.
Lilah…
It’d been several months since he’d mated the gloriously delectable witch, but it still felt like a miracle every time he thought of her. He couldn’t believe that she was truly bound to him for the rest of eternity.
Which might explain why he wanted to treat her like a princess. She was too precious for him to risk.
“I want to pamper her, not bury her in work,” he said, crossing the outer reception room.
Basq followed behind him, pausing to glance out the bank of windows that looked over the Mojave Desert on one side and the Vegas Strip on the other.
Chiron wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the stunning view. Instead he marched across the room that was decorated with a silver carpet and sleek chrome with black leather furniture, then he entered his private space that had been specifically created for the needs of a vampire. There were no windows, the lighting was muted, and the furniture was built to endure the weight of an elephant although it maintained a sleek elegance.
Moving to lean against the silver and glass desk, Chiron folded his arms over his chest as Basq halted directly in front of him.
“Have you asked Lilah what she wants?” the younger male demanded.
Chiron flashed his fangs. Everyone knew what Lilah wanted. She was quite…vocal when she thought that Chiron wasn’t giving her enough responsibility.
If it was up to his ambitious witch, she’d be in charge of the entire Dreamscape empire. Hell, she’d be in charge of the world.
“Stop being sensible,” Chiron growled. “It’s annoying.”
Basq grimaced. “I’m about to become even more annoying.”
“What now?”
“The human girl.”
“Chaaya?” Chiron asked, even though there was only one creature who could inspire the frustration that was smoldering in Basq’s eyes.
Chaaya wasn’t exactly a girl, considering she was older than both Chiron and Basq. And she wasn’t exactly a human, since she’d been sacrificed centuries ago to battle against the evil beast that Ulric had recently encountered.
The truth was that no one knew exactly what she was.
Well, they knew she was a cyclone of endless trouble.
She drank, she cheated his guests at cards, she drove his staff to the brink of homicide and went out of her way to piss him off. Not a night passed that he didn’t want to toss her into some dark, dreary dungeon. Unfortunately, he didn’t happen to have one of those handy here in Vegas. And even if he did, he was fairly confident it wouldn’t hold the girl.
As if to confirm his dark thoughts, Basq clenched his hands. “She’s gone.”
“Again?” Chiron made a sound of annoyance. After Chaaya had been caught using her strange, unpredictable powers to screw with the slot machines, Chiron had insisted that she have an escort when she left her private rooms. A vampire escort.
“I thought you had a guard watching her?”
Basq managed to look more grim than usual. An astonishing accomplishment.
“I was watching her.”
“She got past you?” Chiron didn’t hide his surprise. “I know you’re getting old, but damn. That’s just embarrassing.”
Basq wasn’t amused. “She went into her rooms. I waited outside the door, but she didn’t come back out. I finally went in to check on her…” He shrugged. “And she was gone.”
Chiron studied his companion in confusion. “Are you claiming she created a portal?”
Basq hesitated. Almost as if he didn’t want to share his suspicion. “My guess is that she walked through the wall,” he at last admitted.
Chiron’s lips parted to argue, then he shook his head. Chaaya was still discovering her powers. And since she was technically a ghost, it was quite plausible that she could walk through walls.
Just what he needed.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “I’m done with that damned creature. I don’t care if she saved Ulric’s life or not.”
Basq snorted. “I wish I believed you.”
Chiron cursed. Basq was right. He could huff and puff and threaten all he wanted. For now they had no idea what Chaaya was or how she’d been connected to the evil spirit. Someone had to keep an eye on her. And for now, he was stuck with the aggravating task.
Lucky him.
“Did you track her down?” he demanded.
Basq nodded. “She’s at the Viper’s Nest.”
The Viper’s Nest was an elegant demon club that catered to vampires. It was also an “invitation only” sort of place. And Chiron was willing to bet his last dollar that Chaaya would be the last person on the invitation list.
“You’re sure?”
“I followed her there myself.”
Chiron frowned. “Why the hell would she go there? She usually prefers the filthy bars . . .
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