GOE 08 - Bound By Darkness

Chapter 24

Jaelyn decided she hated white.

And fog.

And the constantly shifting landscape that made it impossible to know if they were traveling in circles.

At the point of concentrating on simply putting one foot in front of the other, Jaelyn nearly moaned in relief when she felt Ariyal slide an arm around her waist, tugging her to a halt.

“Stop, poppet,” he commanded softly. “You’re about to collapse.”

She didn’t try to argue.

Not only could Ariyal tangibly feel her weariness, but she was beyond trying to put on a brave face.

They were lost, alone, with no way of escaping the mists.

Turning, she pressed herself against Ariyal’s welcome warmth, laying her head over the steady beat of his heart.

“We failed.”

His hands ran a comforting path down the curve of her spine.

“Not yet.”

She made a sound of resignation at his determined optimism. “In case you missed the memo, the Dark Lord has already used the child to resurrect himself. Or herself.”

“Yes, but he ... I mean she, isn’t at her full strength.”

Jaelyn shuddered. Considering the power of the Dark Lord was one thing. Actually being close enough to feel the grinding pain was another.

“God help us when she is.”

“I don’t think we can count on any celestial help.” Ariyal’s arms tightened around her. “We’re on our own.”

Jaelyn stilled, concentrating on her bond with Ariyal.

She could sense his stark fear for her safety, his regret that he hadn’t found a way to escape from the fog, and a growing determination that made her heart twist with dread.

Tilting back her head, she made no effort to hide her suspicious frown.

“Ariyal, what are you scheming?”

He lifted one shoulder. “This is the last chance to stop the Dark Lord from entering our dimension.”

She should have been prepared for the blunt confession.

Hadn’t Ariyal been trying to halt the Dark Lord’s return from the moment they’d crossed paths?

He had been willing to sacrifice everything, including his own life, to protect his people from the fury of their former master.

Nothing had changed except the fact they were now mated.

“And you want to play hero?” she snapped, infuriated by the thought of him putting himself in danger.

He gave a slow shake of his head, his expression somber. “It’s not a matter of what I want.”

She grimaced.

It wasn’t, of course.

They might not have asked to be put into the position of being the last thing standing between the Dark Lord and the world, but fate had chosen for them.

Now there was nothing left to do, but try and do their best.

“I know. I just ...”

“What?”

She returned her head to his chest, savoring the scent of herbs.

“Wish that things could have been different.”

He gave a light tug on her ponytail. “The future isn’t written yet.”

“True.” Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. “Of course, if we do survive I want your promise that this is the very last time we have to save the world.”

She felt his muscles clench at her teasing words. “Jaelyn.”

Already sensing his protest, Jaelyn abruptly shoved her way out of his embrace, her chin jutted to a stubborn angle.

This was one argument he wasn’t going to win.

Not ever.

“Don’t even go there,” she warned.

He held up his hands, no doubt shifting through his mind for the best way to pacify the little woman and keep her out of danger.

“I need you to find a way out of here.” He at last hit on inspiration. “There’s no point in defeating the Dark Lord if we’re stuck here.”

She planted her fists on her hips. “What you need and what you get are obviously two different things, Sylvermyst.”

The gazes clashed as the heat of his frustration brushed over her with a physical force.

“Does it have to be a fight every time?”

“I’m not the one who is fighting.”

“Jaelyn.”

Whatever he was about to say was lost as Ariyal went rigid in shock, his attention turning to a point just beyond her shoulder.

She spun around, not sure what to expect.

Vampires, magical curs, resurrected Dark Lords.

What she found was more of the damned fog.

“Do you sense something coming?” she whispered softly.

He frowned. “Didn’t you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

He took a minute to answer. “Magic.”

Okay, that was nice and vague.

“The Dark Lord?”

“ No.”

“The cur?”

“ No.”

She threw her hands up in defeat. It was annoying as hell she couldn’t feel whatever magic was in the air.

It was like stumbling around blind.

“We’re running out of options,” she muttered, then gave a shiver as she considered the various possibilities. “Or at least I hope we are. I don’t want to think about what else might be lurking in the fog.”

He moved past her, holding out his hand as if searching for a precise point.

“It’s coming from the other side.”

The other side?

She frowned. It seemed remarkably convenient that he would sense the magic just when he was losing their argument.

“You’re just saying that to try and distract me,” she accused.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Jaelyn, you would know if I was lying to you, wouldn’t you?”

Oh. He had a point.

She certainly didn’t sense any deceit. In fact, there was a growing sense of relief that was flooding through their bond.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean good news,” she warned, not wanting him to get his hopes up too high. Prepare for the worst, and expect the worst. That was her motto. And it had stood her in good stead over the past decades. “There are thousands of the Dark Lord’s minions,” she reminded him. “It could be one of them trying to break through.”

“I don’t care who it is,” he retorted. “Anything or anyone that can get you out of here is good news.”

Muttering at the stubborn stupidity of Sylvermysts, Jaelyn circled to stand directly in front of him.

“There’s no ‘you.’ It’s ‘us,’” she informed him, stabbing her finger into the center of his chest. “We’ll go through any opening together or neither of us will go.”

“Poppet.”

“Don’t poppet me,” she interrupted, her voice revealing she wasn’t going to tolerate any excuses. “We’ll go through and prepare for the Dark Lord. If we can unite the vampires and Sylvermysts, not to mention the Weres, there’s no way he can defeat us. We’ll at least have a better shot than trying to do it on our own.”

His lips parted to argue, only to snap shut as he realized the sense of her words.

“You do have a point,” he reluctantly conceded.

“Thank you,” she said dryly.

She didn’t have any time to congratulate herself on her small victory. Or even to feel relief that they might actually escape the nerve-racking fog.

Not when a vicious pain sliced through the air, along with a female voice that made Jaelyn’s skin crawl.

“Jaelyn.”

She sent Ariyal a resigned glance. Whoever might be trying to enter the mists was too late.

“Shit,” she muttered.

He brushed his fingers over her cheek, his gaze skimming over her upturned face with an aching regret.

“It looks like the decision has been made for us.”

“Looks like.” She palmed her shotgun, pulling it free of the holster. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Holding out his arm, Ariyal called for his bow and arrow, his gaze searching the mists. A good warrior wasn’t so distracted by the lion that he failed to notice the cobra hiding in the grass.

“She’s not yet at her full strength, which means there’s the potential that her body can be injured.”

She swiftly followed his logic. “So if we can destroy it ...”

“Then the Dark Lord will be back to where he started,” he completed. “Unable to enter our world.” He grimaced. “Or at least that’s the hope.”

Hope.

She might have laughed if the Dark Lord hadn’t chosen that moment to part the mists and appear in front of them.

Jaelyn shuddered, struck by the horrifying irony of such evil being hidden inside a young female who might have been the poster child of innocence.

It was just ... wrong.

“Sweet Jaelyn, why do you run from me?” the creature taunted, a whimsical smile making her dimples dance. Then, as if caught by surprise, the Dark Lord widened her china-blue eyes. “Oh look, a Sylvermyst.” She released a giggle that battered against Jaelyn like shards of glass. “Yummy.”

The fear that threatened to crush her was abruptly pierced by a savage fury as the female drifted toward Ariyal.

“And mine,” she gritted, pulling the trigger of the shotgun.

The Dark Lord brushed aside the pellets with a wave of her hand, but it at least had distracted her from Ariyal.

“Surely you don’t mind sharing?”

“As a matter of fact I do.”

With a blur of motion Jaelyn had her shotgun reloaded and was firing.

Again the Dark Lord brushed aside the projectiles, stepping toward Jaelyn with a smile of anticipation.

She was enjoying Jaelyn’s fury. Perhaps even feeding off of it.

“But he’s been such a bad, bad boy. He should never have tried to hide from me.” The creature shook her head. “And to leave me for Morgana le Fey? He hurt my feelings.”

“Somehow I doubt you have any feelings to hurt,” Jaelyn muttered.

“Perhaps not. But I do get hungry. And Sylvermysts are so tasty good,” she taunted, licking her lips.

Jaelyn lifted her gun, as if preparing to shoot; then hoping to catch her opponent by surprise, she leapt forward to slash her claws through the female’s throat.

“Drop dead,” she hissed, darting backward.

Briefly baffled, the girl lifted a hand to her neck, pulling it back to study the blood on her fingers.

“Now look what you’ve done.”

“I intend to do far worse,” Jaelyn warned, flashing her fangs.

She didn’t actually think she could defeat the creature, but she had to admit she was shocked that she managed to draw blood.

Maybe Ariyal was right.

Until she’d gained her full strength her body was vulnerable to injury.

Clearly pissed off, the Dark Lord allowed the air to thicken with an excruciating heat, as if they were surrounded by the fiery pits of hell.

Jaelyn groaned in agony, afraid her bones might actually melt.

“How dare you strike me?” The sweet voice sent a thousand pinpricks of pain into Jaelyn’s brain. “I am your master. You will bow before me.”

Jaelyn was willing to bow if it would stop the unseen flames that were searing through her.

Hell, she’d crawl on her knees and kiss the creature’s feet. Before she was reduced to begging, however, Ariyal lifted his bow and with a blinding flurry he filled the girl’s back with a dozen arrows.

The blue eyes widened as the creature stumbled forward, and Jaelyn groaned in relief as the heat was gone as swiftly as it arrived. Obviously the Dark Lord hadn’t truly considered the idea that she might not be as immortal as she thought.

At least not yet.

With a frustrated curse she turned to concentrate her powers on Ariyal, her hand lifting to send the Sylvermyst flying through the air.

Jaelyn grimly ignored the audible crunch of broken bones and Ariyal’s muffled shout of pain. She had to concentrate on the Dark Lord if she was to help her mate.

Not giving herself time to consider the wisdom of a direct attack, Jaelyn launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around the girl’s shoulder and sinking her teeth into the side of her throat.

The blood hit her tongue like a punch, burning a path down her throat and making her stomach cramp in misery. Still she held on tight, fiercely draining the blood as the female clawed at her arm and face.

“You ... bitch,” the Dark Lord muttered. “I will make you suffer untold torment.”

Jaelyn believed her.

Despite her numerous injuries the female remained as strong as ever. It wouldn’t take long for Jaelyn and Ariyal to run out of tricks.

Then they would be at her mercy.

A fate worse than death.

Still she continued her desperate attempt to drain the bitch, swallowing the poisonous blood until the Dark Lord reached up to grasp her by the ponytail, yanking her away despite the fangs that ripped through her flesh. Then, with a contemptuous motion, the Dark Lord was tossing Jaelyn through the air.

She landed next to Ariyal, who was making a heroic effort to rise to his feet, a sharp pain drilling through her heart as the Dark Lord pointed a finger directly at her.

Oh ... gods.

Lifting a hand, Jaelyn pressed it to her chest. It felt like someone had reached inside her and was attempting to rip her unbeating heart in half.

She couldn’t bear it.

Lost in the searing pain, Jaelyn dismissed the faint sound of her name being called. It seemed reasonable that she would be going mad.

No one could survive such torture with their sanity intact.

Then it came again. This time with all the arrogant command of the King of Vampires.

“Jaelyn.” There was the sound of muted curses. “Dammit, hurry up, mage. Jaelyn, can you hear me?”

At her side, Ariyal went rigid in shock. “What the hell?”

“Styx,” she choked out, barely able to speak past the sensation of her heart being slowly shredded. “Hold on.”

Wrapping her arms around her, Ariyal angled his body to shield her from the Dark Lord just as the mists behind them thinned.

There was the strange sensation of the world melting around her before there was a female shriek of fury and the feel of a hand reaching to grasp her arm.

“No. You’ll never escape me.”

Ariyal cursed, reaching for his sword and swinging it to slice deep into the slender arm. Jaelyn wasn’t sure if the Dark Lord could feel the wound, but the fingers digging into her arm abruptly released and they were tumbling backward.

For a disorienting moment it felt as though they were falling through the air, the pain in her heart thankfully easing, although there remained enough pressure to warn they weren’t completely free of the psycho bitch.

Then a prickle of electricity raced over her skin and she was landing on a hard surface with jarring force.

She had a vague impression of Styx leaning over her as well as a silver-eyed vampire. More distant was the scent of Were and Sylvermyst and ... mage.

Sergei.

She turned her head to discover him lying on the ground next to her and Ariyal, as if they’d knocked him down during their abrupt return to the caves. But oddly he appeared almost oblivious to her presence, his horrified gaze focused on the air directly above her.

She didn’t want to look.

It was going to be bad. And she was tired of bad.

But of course she did.

Not knowing what was coming was the only thing worse than knowing what was coming.

Slowly she shifted to follow the mage’s gaze, her entire body clenching with fear as she watched the outline of a slender young female becoming visible in the shimmering mist.

Oh ... no. Not again.

Ariyal cursed, pulling her tightly against his chest, but there seemed nothing that could be done to halt the Dark Lord from passing through the barrier.

Then, astonishingly, the shimmering air began to thicken.

Something that might have been shock widened the china-blue eyes and the pretty young female lifted a hand to bang it against a seemingly impenetrable barrier.

The mage whimpered beside her, and Jaelyn might have done a bit of whimpering of her own as the air became so heavy it threatened to crush them all. Suddenly she wondered if she’d escaped the endless white fog only to die on the stone floor of the caverns.

But even as she rolled onto her side to say a final farewell to her mate, the pressure was abruptly gone. Along with the shimmering mist.

She held herself perfectly still, terrified if she moved that the air would split open and the Dark Lord would reappear.

Not that far-fetched a fear considering the past few days.

Only after she had counted to a hundred did she cautiously sit up, her body aching from head to toe. She groaned, but didn’t protest when Ariyal wrapped an arm around her waist and assisted her to her feet.

The mage remained on the floor, passed out cold and still bleeding from a wound to his arm. Beyond him stood the King of Weres and a handful of vampires. Farther back the Sylvermysts hurried to get closer to their prince. But her attention was commanded by the six-foot-five vampire who stood with his hands on his hips.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, his dark eyes revealing a rare disquiet.

Very few things scared the Anasso.

“The Dark Lord,” she said, leaning heavily against Ariyal.

Salvatore made a sound of choked disbelief. “That ... girl?”

“He was resurrected in the child.” She grimaced at the memory. “One minute he was a babe and the next he stepped out of the mist looking like a young girl. It was creepy as hell.”

“Yeah, understatement of the century,” the Were muttered.

Ariyal tugged her even closer, his cheek resting on the top of her head.

“Can we do this later?” he growled. “Jaelyn’s been through enough.”

“In a minute.” Styx pointed a finger toward the spot where the Dark Lord had appeared. “If he was resurrected then why didn’t he ... or she ... come through the barrier?”

Jaelyn parted her lips to admit she didn’t have a clue when Ariyal beat her to the punch.

“Because Jaelyn took her blood.”

“Blood?” Styx regarded her as with a hint of wonder. “From the Dark Lord?”

Jaelyn shuddered, only now realizing that she could still feel the echoes of power from the blood.

“Trust me, it was an act of desperation.”

“An act of incredible courage,” the Anasso corrected with a faint dip of his head.

“So why would taking her blood keep the Dark Lord from passing into this world?” Salvatore asked the question on everyone’s lips.

Including Jaelyn’s.

“The child was created to hold the soul of the Dark Lord, but to have a unique enough essence so that the Phoenix wouldn’t recognize it when it moved through the barrier.” He shrugged. “After all, that’s what keeps the Dark Lord on the other side. So long as the Chalice holds the goddess of light, the darkness remains banished.”

Styx furrowed his brow. “So when Jaelyn drained her of blood?” he prompted.

“She stole the life of the symbiont.”

“No.” Salvatore shook his head. “From what I could see it was very much alive and very pissed off.”

“The Dark Lord survives,” Ariyal agreed, “but now he has no more than an empty shell that is incapable of travel from world to world.”

Styx studied Ariyal with a searching gaze. “So that’s the end?”

Ariyal shrugged. “For now.”

Jaelyn studied him in amazement.

Gorgeous, lethal, and now brilliant.

Suddenly her aching desire for a hot bath and a soft bed evaporated.

All she wanted was to get this Sylvermyst alone so she could ravish him in private.

“We’ll finish this later,” she announced, sending her mate a smile that had him scooping her off her feet and heading toward the nearest exit.

Styx growled in annoyance. .“But ...”

“Later,” Ariyal snapped. “Much, much later.”

A week later

In a lair south of Chicago

The two-story brick farmhouse with white shutters and a wraparound porch was as picturesque as it was isolated.

Perched on a bluff that overlooked the Mississippi River, it was surrounded by acres of meadows filled with wildflowers and patches of woods that were as necessary to fey as plenty of fresh air to breathe. And far enough from the main road to prevent all but the most determined trespassers.

Inside, the house had been modified to please the most demanding vampire. The tinted windows allowed the sun-challenged to move around the house no matter what time of day or night. The rooms were large and the furniture a charming mixture of antiques and modern that was chosen for comfort rather than fashion. And of course reinforced to withstand the love play between a newly mated vampire and Sylvermyst.

It was, as far as Ariyal and Jaelyn were concerned, a little slice of heaven.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t entirely ignore the world outside their secluded lair.

Ariyal’s tribe was settled throughout the countryside, often bringing their squabbles to Ariyal to settle or just stopping by to request his opinion on various decisions they were about to make.

Jaelyn never complained. Not even when they interrupted a romantic evening she’d planned, down to his favorite dinner ... a pair of edible undies.

His people were slowly healing beneath his patient leadership, and for the first time since Jaelyn had met Ariyal, he wasn’t burdened by the guilt that had been slowly destroying him.

And then there had been the visits from Styx and Salvatore.

The two kings had been impervious to Ariyal’s distinct lack of welcome as they had grilled him and Jaelyn on their time in the mists, as if telling the story over and over would somehow reveal what the Dark Lord might be plotting.

Not that she blamed them.

She was as anxious as anyone to find a way to rescue Cassandra and Caine from the mists. Not just because she wouldn’t leave anyone to the tender mercies of the Dark Lord, even if they were Weres. But because it was too dangerous to leave a true prophet in the hands of their enemy.

And of course, there had been the disturbing news that Gaius, the vampire who’d given his loyalty to the Dark Lord, was an Immortal One who was able to travel through the veils separating worlds.

Which meant that even if the Dark Lord was prevented from entering this dimension for now, he was able to send his minion to do his bidding.

Not the most comforting thought.

It all combined to keep them from having the private honeymoon that they had once hoped to enjoy.

A damned shame, she acknowledged, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the night in bed with her delectable fey.

Instead she was forced to pull on a pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt as she watched Ariyal finish buttoning the loud red Hawaiian shirt with yellow flowers. In the past few days they’d come to a hard-fought agreement that when they were in mixed company she would put aside her stretchy pants and sports bra, while he would cover that magnificent chest.

Mating, she was swiftly discovering, was all about compromise.

They braided each other’s hair. Then as his hands began to roam in a manner that warned his thoughts weren’t on their impending meeting with Styx and Salvatore, she firmly took his arm and steered him out of their private bedroom.

“We can play later, Sylvermyst,” she promised, leading him down the carved oak staircase that glowed in the light from the small crystal chandelier hanging from the open beamed ceiling. “Styx and Salvatore are already here.”

He grimaced, his hand flexing as if he was considering the comfort of calling for his bow and arrow.

The truce between the three powerful leaders was uneasy, at best.

“What if I tell them to go?”

“They’ll just come back later,” she warned, a smile curving her lips at the large bouquet of wildflowers that was arranged on a table in the small foyer.

Ariyal’s love for nature could be seen in crystal vases all over the house, perfuming the air and adding splashes of color that Jaelyn was rapidly becoming addicted to.

She’d had no idea how bleak her life had been until it was filled with Ariyal’s vibrant warmth.

He tugged on her braid, his expression rueful. “Didn’t you make me promise that if we survived we were done saving the world?”

“All we’re doing is meeting with Styx and Salvatore.”

He grimaced. “I’d rather meet with the Dark Lord.”

“Ssh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “That’s still a possibility, you know.”

He heaved a sigh. Although he was convinced that the Dark Lord couldn’t use his new body to travel into the world, there was no doubt that the bastard was on the other side plotting a means to return.

So long as he existed, there would be danger.

“Fine,” he said, “but spending time with the Royal High-nesses gives me a rash.”

She chuckled, studying the elegant beauty of her mate’s face. “I thought you blue bloods like to hang together, Prince Ariyal?”

He swooped his head down, pressing a possessive kiss to her mouth.

“I prefer to hang with my princess,” he murmured against her lips.

She pulled back with a snort.

Princess.

It might be true that she was becoming fond of Ariyal’s people. Excessively fond. And that she would kill anyone or anything that tried to harm them.

But she’d be damned if she’d be called princess.

It was just so ... pansy-ass.

“Watch it,” she muttered. “I already told Elwin that if he ever called me that again I would slice off his tongue.”

He arched a teasing brow. “But whether you like the title or not, you are their princess.”

She shook her head as they moved to the large room at the front of the house that had once been the formal parlor.

When they’d first arrived it had been stuffed full of the former housewife’s finest possessions. Sofas, chairs, china cabinets, and a grandfather clock that Ariyal had taken out back and burned within minutes of their arrival.

There was nothing quite so annoying to creatures with super hearing than the constant tick tock of a clock. Add in a cuckoo bird and it was nothing short of hell.

Now it had been thinned to a few sturdy pieces of furniture and shelves that Ariyal had built to display their collection of ... well, they hadn’t exactly agreed what they would collect.

But whatever they chose, it would be theirs.

A display of their life together.

“Princess. That’s going to take some getting used to,” she admitted.

His eyes filled with a smoldering warmth as he deliberately ignored the large vampire and pureblooded Were who stood with unreadable expressions near the bay window.

A warmth that she felt down to the tips of her toes.

“We have an eternity,” he promised.

“Do not be so certain, Sylvermyst.”

The voice of Kostas echoed through the room a heartbeat before the Ruah dropped his shadows to reveal his large, muscular body that was attired in a black T-shirt, camouflage pants, and shit-kicker boots.

Decades of training sent Jaelyn to her knees, her head lowered as her leader approached.

In the back of her mind she’d known this confrontation was coming. You couldn’t defy the Addonexus and expect to get away unscathed.

But she’d hoped that she would have time to discover some escape clause that would allow her to keep Ariyal without forfeiting her life.

Obviously, time had run out.

“On your feet, Hunter,” the ultimate leader of the Hunters commanded.

Slowly she lifted herself upright, her gaze skimming over Kostas’s finely hewed features and the slicked-back black hair before settling on his soulless eyes.

“Jaelyn.” At her side, Ariyal shifted to wrap a protective arm around her shoulder.

“You will stay out of this, Sylvermyst,” Kostas commanded, his gaze never wavering from Jaelyn. “I will deal with you later.”

“Please, Ariyal,” she pleaded softly, deliberately untangling herself and stepping away from her mate. If she was going to be sacrificed to sate Kostas’s bloated pride, she didn’t want Ariyal caught in the cross fire. “Hello, Kostas.”

His lips thinned, as if he was annoyed by her response to his surprise visit.

What did he expect?

Wailing and pleading and serious ass-kissing?

It simply wasn’t her style.

“Do you know, I had great expectations for you, Jaelyn?” he chided, speaking to her as if she were a disobedient child rather the vulnerable young woman he’d tortured and tormented for decades. “You had the potential to become the greatest Hunter in the past millennium. It was only your heart I questioned.”

“And so you tried to destroy it.” Her chin tilted. “I will never forgive you for that.”

He shrugged. Emotionless.

“A Hunter cannot have a weakness.”

She could feel Ariyal’s growing fury, laced with fear, as it pulsed in the air. She sent him a warning glance not to interfere before turning her attention back to the man who had the right to destroy her.

“I happen to believe it’s my greatest strength,” she countered.

His lips curled into a sneer. “If that were true then it wouldn’t have led you to betray your loyalty to the Addonexus.”

“I never asked to become a Hunter.”

“It was your destiny.”

“Chosen by you.”

“Chosen by fate,” he insisted. “Do you have any notion how many vampires would quite literally kill to be in your position?”

She did.

Being a Hunter brought her the sort of awed respect her fellow vampires coveted.

It was bound to go to any female’s head.

But the few benefits didn’t come close to making up for the nearly soul-destroying price she’d paid.

“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble filling it,” she said.

Kostas’s fury spilled through the room like icy needles. “Now is not the time for flippant remarks.”

She shrugged. “Do you want me to beg?”

His eyes narrowed, assuring Jaelyn that even if she could manage to kiss this man’s ass he wouldn’t be satisfied.

“You could, but it would do no good,” he drawled, proving her right. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy seeing her on her knees begging. He might be missing a heart, but his ego was fully functioning. “You have committed the worst crimes known to the Addonexus.”

“I thought attempting to kill the Ruah was the worst crime?”

He imperiously ignored her accusation. “Not only did you allow yourself to form a relationship with your prey, you actually mated with him.” He cast a condemning glance toward the rigid Ariyal. “And if that were not bad enough, you have reneged on a contract with the Commission.”

“Actually, I didn’t renege,” she swiftly denied. “The terms were altered by one of the Oracles.”

Kostas stiffened, clearly caught off balance by her revelation. Siljar had told her to keep it secret, so that’s what she’d tried to do.

In fact, she’d only confessed the truth to Ariyal a few nights before.

“It does not matter.” The Ruah at last dismissed what he didn’t want to hear. “Any one of those atrocities carries with it a death sentence.”

“Why you ...”

Ariyal charged forward, but as fast as he was, Styx was faster, moving to intercept the maddened Sylvermyst and wrapping him in his massive arms.

“Stop, Ariyal,” the Anasso commanded, clamping his hand over Ariyal’s mouth. “You’re only making matters worse.”

Jaelyn was relieved that the king had moved to keep Ariyal out of danger, but she couldn’t deny the small pang of disappointment.

She hadn’t assumed that she and Styx were suddenly buddy-buddy, but she hadn’t expected him to actually help Kostas send her to the gallows.

“Either you get rid of him or I will.” Ariyal’s words were muffled, his anger a warm flood that battled against the chill in the air.

A humorless smile pulled at the Ruah’s thin lips. “The Anasso is the King of Vampires, but the Hunters belong to me,” he informed Ariyal, pride thick in his voice, although Jaelyn suspected he resented the fact that he wasn’t the ultimate leader of vampires. Hideous thought. “It is my right to punish my people how I see fit.”

She couldn’t argue the truth of his words.

All she hoped was to convince him that it would somehow serve his purpose to keep her alive.

Yeah ... fat chance.

“And what purpose will my death serve?” she demanded.

“It will remind other Hunters that our laws are meant to be obeyed.”

“So you’ll kill me just to make an example of me?”

The empty gaze moved slowly down her rigid body before returning to her face.

“You’re like a cancer that must be destroyed for the good of the Addonexus.”

He truly believed what he was saying. She could feel it to the very depths of her soul.

So this was the end.

No chance of escape, no last-minute pardon.

Squaring her shoulders, she held her chin high.

“You can do whatever you want to me, but I will never regret loving Ariyal,” she announced loud enough that her voice bounced off the walls. “Never.”

Kostas reached to grasp her chin in a brutal grip. “Such a pity,” he murmured, studying her with a faux expression of regret.

She yanked away from his touch. “Don’t pretend you’re not getting off on this. You love when you get the opportunity to flex your muscles.”

His jaw tightened, clearly annoyed. Not that she gave a shit.

He was going to kill her.

Who cared if she offended him?

“Come along, Jaelyn,” he ordered in frigid tones. “The sooner we’re done with this unpleasant business the sooner I can return to my duties.”

She thought she heard Styx mutter a low curse, but before she could glance in his direction there was the sensation of the air pressure abruptly changing. Spinning around she watched as Siljar popped into view, along with her daughter, Yannah.

As always, the two tiny demons looked nearly identical, dressed in long white robes that were pristine despite the faint whiff of brimstone, with their black, oblong eyes and razor-sharp teeth.

Only a closer inspection revealed that Yannah’s hair was fair rather than silver and her eyes lacking the ancient wisdom of her mother.

Seemingly unaware of the shock her abrupt entrance had created, Siljar held up a tiny hand, her attention focused on Kostas.

“Wait.”