Hunt the Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Roke paced the center of the field, a murderous fury boiling his blood.

After running at full throttle for the past seven hours, he’d at last homed in on his missing mate.

She was here.

He could feel her.

Hell, he could even catch the scent of peaches.

But he couldn’t get to her.

It was as if she was sharing the same place, but in a different dimension.

“Roke?” Moving to block his restless path from one end of the field to the other, Cyn studied him with a puzzled expression. “What are we waiting for?”

“She’s here,” Roke muttered.

Cyn glanced around the clearing that was hidden in the middle of the Canadian national park.

“In the middle of an empty field?”

Roke hissed in frustration. “I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s close.”

Cyn nodded. “The doorway to the Chatri homeland must be near.”

“How do I open it?”

His companion hesitated before giving a shrug. “I don’t know that you can.”

That was not the answer Roke wanted.

He didn’t care what he had to do, he was getting back his mate.

“There has to be a way,” he snarled.

“We’ll figure it out, I swear,” Cyn said, attempting to soothe. “But we need to consider a place to stay for the day. Dawn is less than an hour away.”

Cyn thought he would leave?

When he’d finally pinpointed her location?

Hell, no.

“She needs me,” he stubbornly insisted.

“Then you have to make sure you stay healthy enough to rescue her.”

Roke rolled his eyes. “When did you turn into a mother hen?”

“When . . .” The large vampire’s words dried up as there was a sparkle in the air less than a few feet away and a female figure suddenly appeared. “God almighty. It’s an angel,” Cyn croaked.

Roke had to admit the stranger did look angelic.

Her long, burnished gold hair surrounded a face so delicately carved it would make an artist weep in delight. Her eyes were faintly slanted and the color of amber with unexpected glints of emerald.

As she moved forward the silk of her white gown caressed her tall, slender body causing the large rubies that were sewn along the hem to glisten like fire in the waning moonlight.

Definitely angel material.

Immune to her beauty, Roke stepped forward, struggling not to wrap his fingers around her neck and demand answers.

“Where’s Sally?” he rasped.

The unknown female glanced toward Cyn who had his gun pointed directly at her heart.

“If you’ll put away your weapons I’ll take you to her,” she promised, her voice a brush of velvet over his skin.

“Fine.” Roke took a step forward even as Cyn placed a restraining arm across his chest.

“Wait,” he growled, keeping his gun pointed toward the female Chatri. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?” He glared at the woman. “If you have Sally then bring her out here.”

She folded her arms, calmly ignoring Cyn as she held Roke’s gaze.

“If I do, the warriors will destroy you.”

Cyn muttered a curse at the implication he could be bested. The female clearly knew very little about male pride.

“They could try,” he snarled.

Again, the female ignored him.

“Once you’re within our homeland they can’t touch you,” she promised. “Will you come with me, vampire?”

“No, he damned well won’t. Not until we know—”

“Cyn,” Roke sharply interrupted, glowering at his friend.

“What?”

“Back off.”

Cyn growled as he lowered the gun, his muscles clenched as if he were expecting a full-out attack.

“I don’t trust her.”

Roke stepped around his bristling friend. He didn’t trust the female, either. But it wasn’t as if they had a whole lot of choice.

“Take me to Sally.”

She gave a dip of her head. “Follow me.”

Turning, she disappeared into the strange sparkle of lights and Roke was quickly hurrying to join her.

“Roke.”

He glanced toward his companion who remained stubbornly at his side as they stepped through the entrance to the portal.

“I know, but this might be my only chance to find Sally.”

“You had better hope this isn’t a trick, fairy,” Cyn growled at the back of the female Chatri. “Your people might not shed blood in your homeland, but I’m quite willing.”

“Barbarian,” she muttered.

“Berserker, thank you very much,” Cyn informed her, his fangs fully exposed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Roke asked.

Cyn was always a lethal warrior, but he wasn’t usually so touchy. Especially not with a beautiful woman.

The clan chief grimaced, as if realizing he’d been acting out of character.

“She . . . troubles me.”

Roke studied his friend’s tense expression. “Hmm.”

There was the sensation of the air pressure shifting, then they were out of the portal and standing in a hallway lined with glossy wooden floors and marble walls nearly hidden beneath the climbing ivy.

Roke and Cyn both hissed at the golden sunshine that peeked through high windows. Dammit. They had to be in a dimension that ran on a different time. Thankfully the angle of the sun meant that the glow hit high on the wall, leaving the actual corridor in shadows.

“We must be swift,” the female warned, taking off at a brisk pace.

Roke ignored Cyn’s icy disapproval, allowing himself to be led from one hallway to another.

Eventually they became wider with more marble and gilt, not to mention a few passing Chatri who stared at them in startled dismay.

“Mother of gods, I’ve never felt so out of place in my life,” Cyn muttered as they tried to ignore the elegantly dressed men and women who looked as if they were headed to some fancy-ass ball.

“No killing,” Roke muttered as Cyn ran his fingers over the blade of his dagger, eyeballing a male who flared his nose as if he’d just smelled something nasty.

Cyn shook his head. “You don’t know anything about having fun.”

Sally pinned a smile to her lips.

Seated next to her father on the high dais, she struggled to concentrate on the formal speeches being offered in celebration of her father’s return. Even if her nerves weren’t shredded as she waited for some sign from Fallon, she would hate being put on display.

If being a princess meant sitting on an uncomfortable throne so a group of strangers could gawk at her, she’d be happy to give the privilege to someone else.

Immediately.

Perhaps sensing her growing distress, Sariel leaned sideways to awkwardly pat her hand, which clenched the arm of the chair.

“I told you that my people would be happy to welcome you, child,” he reminded her.

Despite being furious with her father, Sally couldn’t deny a rueful pleasure. He was doing his best to make her feel at home.

“I’ve been happy to meet them as well. Especially my sisters and brothers,” she said, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “But you promised I would be allowed to contact Roke.”

Sariel’s lips flattened. “In time.”

“He’s going to be worried about me.”

Her father abruptly changed the conversation. “Tell me what you think of Lasko?”

“Who?” she asked in genuine confusion.

Sariel nodded toward the young man standing near a marble column, his beautiful features carved with an inbred arrogance that made Sally grimace.

“He’s the eldest son of the Sonesel House.”

She sent her father a horrified glare. “You’re not trying to play matchmaker, are you?”

He shrugged. “Once I break your mating you will be free to choose another male. Lasko is not only wealthy and a powerful warrior, but his house is a rival to ours. Such an alliance would be highly beneficial.”

She snorted. “Beneficial to whom? Not me.”

The amber eyes held a hint of censure at her flippant tone. “To all Chatri.”

She rolled her eyes. It seemed her father just couldn’t resist trying to use her to his own advantage.

Not that it mattered.

There was only one man who would ever be her mate.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said. “I have no plans to play Juliet.”

Sariel frowned, obviously not a fan of Shakespeare.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not interested in Lasko even though I’m sure he’s a fine man,” she clarified.

“There are others,” her father began only to be interrupted by a flurry of soft gasps and a few cries of fear from the back of the room. Slowly Sariel rose to his feet. “What is the disruption?” he demanded.

The crowd slowly parted to reveal Fallon as she moved forward with two large vampires flanking her.

Sariel went rigid, a flush of anger staining his pale cheeks.

“Fallon, explain yourself.”

Fallon flinched, but with remarkable courage she met her father’s furious glare.

“Sally’s mate was anxious to be reunited with her.”

Indifferent to her father or the chattering crowd, Sally launched herself off the dais and directly into Roke’s waiting arms.

She breathed deeply of his familiar scent, tears streaming down her face as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

“I have you,” he murmured, running a comforting hand down her spine. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

“Leave us,” her father bellowed, and Sally glanced up to watch in surprise as the Chatri scurried out of the room, along with Fallon who pulled a stubborn Cyn through a side door.

Once alone, her father moved to stand directly in front of them.

“How dare you trespass in my home, leech?”

Roke tucked Sally behind him as he faced her father without fear.

“I’ve come for my mate.” His power fractured the floor beneath their feet. “I’m not leaving without her.”

Her father ignored the display of strength. “She came here to end the mating.”

She felt Roke tense at the soft words, his brows drawing together as he glanced toward her.

“Sally?”

Sally resisted the urge to deny the accusation. This was too important to screw up.

“Sariel has promised to break the spell,” she admitted.

The pale eyes darkened with a hurt he didn’t bother to try and hide.

“That’s why you left?”

She glanced toward her father. “Can we speak in private?”

The king parted his lips to deny her request, only to hesitate when he read the unmistakable threat in her eyes.

He’d already crossed a line when he’d brought her to his homeland without asking. If he pressed her on this, there was a good chance she was never going to forgive him.

He made a sound of disgust. “Very well. I will allow you a few moments.” He pointed a finger at Roke. “But know this, vampire, you are in my territory. Here you will obey my rules.”

Sally laid a finger against Roke’s lips, preventing him from spewing his angry words. Only when her father had disappeared behind the thrones did she lower her hand.

“Someday,” Roke muttered.

Turning so she could face him directly, Sally laid her hand on his cheek, the ache in her heart easing as his power settled like a cloak around her.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” she told him.

He peered deep into her eyes, as if searching for the truth. “Then why did you?”

“My father requested that I become a sort of diplomat between the Chatri and our world.”

Her words caught him off guard. Lucky for him, he didn’t share his personal opinion of the offer. It was enough that his lips curled with blatant repugnance.

“And you said?” he asked.

She held his gaze. “I said, yes.”

He carefully hid his reaction. “I see.”

“Next thing I knew I was here,” she continued her story.

The pale eyes blazed with silver fire. “Here and asking for our mating to be broken.”

She stroked her fingers down his cheek to trace the stubborn line of his jaw.

“The spell to be broken.”

“Why?”

She released an unsteady sigh, forcing herself to speak the painful words.

“Because you deserve the opportunity to find your true mate.”

He grabbed her fingers that she was stroking down the line of his throat and pressed them to his lips.

“I have found her,” he snapped.

It’s what she hoped for with every fiber of her being, but she couldn’t risk that someday he would be denied the female destined to be at his side.

“You don’t know that.”

He wasn’t happy. “Christ, what do I have to do to prove it to you?”

“Allow my father to break the spell.”

“No.”

She frowned, baffled by his refusal to even consider her request.

“If you’re so confident I’m your mate, then why are you being so stubborn about the spell?”

His thumb rubbed against her inner wrist, the air prickling a sharp chill.

“I have no doubt you’re my mate.”

“But?”

There was a short hesitation, then with obvious reluctance, he admitted what was bothering him.

“But, I can’t be certain I am your mate.”

Sally stared at him in confusion. “Isn’t it the same thing?”

“Not necessarily.” He lowered her hand, turning her arm over so he could push up the sleeve of her gown and reveal the crimson marking. “When a vampire’s mate is of a different species there’s no guarantee that they will be similarly committed.” His fingers brushed over the sensitive tattoo, sending a jolt of lust straight through her. “Do Chatri even have true mates?”

She stepped closer, her gaze lowering to the sensual temptation of his lips.

“It doesn’t matter.”

She could feel his rising arousal as her gaze remained on his lips, his fingers continuing to caress her arm.

“It doesn’t?” he asked, his tone husky with need.

“No.” She smiled as she caught a glimpse of fang. Ah, her gorgeous, sexy, utterly exasperating vampire. “Because I love you.”

He blinked, looking as if he’d just been hit upside the head with a shovel.

“You . . . you love me?”

Sally chuckled. Dear goddess. Did he think that she melted for every man who touched her? Or risked her life to take him to his own people when he was injured? Or was willing to suffer the agony of losing him to make sure he never regretted being her mate?

“Irrevocably, madly, and for all eternity,” she swore, going on her toes to press her lips to the corner of his mouth.

He gave a low groan. “Sally.”

She pulled back to study his expression, which remained wary. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“You’re certain?”

She hid a smile at his vulnerable plea for assurance. This wasn’t the aloof, I-am-an-island vampire she’d first met. Her heart swelled with the love she could barely contain.

“Roke, I don’t need a spell to be committed to you,” she murmured, planting tiny kisses over his cheek. “You’ve had my heart since you brought a tray of buffalo wings to my prison cell.”

“And apple pie,” he reminded her in thick tones, his arms wrapping around her waist to haul her tight against his body. “Don’t forget the apple pie.”

She chuckled, her lips finding a sensitive spot just below his ear.

“I’ll never forget anything, you aggravating vampire.”

There was a swish of satin before her father returned to the room, his mood stormy as he caught sight of them embracing.

“That is enough privacy,” he snarled. “It is time to end this mating.”

Pulling back, Sally held Roke’s gaze. “Trust me.”