Hunt the Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Roke didn’t like this.

He didn’t want to break the mating. And he most certainly didn’t want Sally’s pain-in-the-ass father to be the one to remove the spell.

The bastard might use his magic to convince Sally that she no longer loved him.

Loved him.

He grimaced as Sally’s soft words whispered through her mind.

She told him that she loved him. And then she’d asked him to trust her.

What else could he do?

“Fine,” he muttered, glaring at the king as he approached. He silently swore he would kill the man if he did anything to alter Sally’s feelings. “Remove the spell.”

Sally suddenly pulled out of his arms, glancing toward the distant door where a handful of Chatri were trying to peek through a narrow opening.

“Wait,” she muttered.

“Second thoughts?” Roke asked.

“No, but I’m tired of being gawked at.” She shuddered. “I want to do this in private.”

“We can go to your rooms,” Sariel pronounced, turning to head with dignified pace toward a small door behind the dais. “They have finished being prepared.”

Roke placed an arm around Sally’s shoulders as they followed in his regal wake.

“You have rooms?” he demanded, not liking the thought of her having a permanent place that was anywhere but at his side.

“This is my daughter’s home, of course she has rooms,” Sariel retorted.

“Her place is with me at my lair,” he growled.

The king glanced over his shoulder with an accusing expression.

“Among people who tried to kill her?”

Roke felt the familiar stab of guilt. “That was . . . a mistake. They will honor her as my mate.”

Sariel sniffed in disdain. “Here she is a princess.”

Roke clenched his teeth. There was no answer to that.

She was a princess here. And while he knew his people would grow to adore Sally, they hadn’t made it easy for him to convince her that his lair was going to make some fantasy dream-home.

It was Sally who at last broke the silence as they walked down yet another marble hallway with dark red roses circling the fluted columns.

“There’s no reason I can’t assist Roke with his duties as chief and be a diplomat for the Chatri.”

Both men were swift to offer their protests. “But—”

“That wasn’t open for debate.” She effectively slammed the door on their objections.

Roke smiled. This was his feisty little witch.

“Bossy,” he teased.

“That’s right.” Her dark eyes held a wicked amusement. “I am woman, hear me roar.”

They paused before a set of double doors and Roke glanced down at her pale, vulnerable face, needing to know if she truly meant that she could face returning to his people.

“You’re willing to travel to Nevada?” he asked softly.

She smiled, holding up a hand that had destroyed a Nebule demon with pure light.

“I think I can hold my own now.”

He nodded, in full agreement. He didn’t doubt she could make even the most powerful vampire regret screwing with her. But he didn’t want her to think for a second she had to worry about protecting herself in her own home.

“True, but there will be no need.” He paused, making sure she knew he spoke the absolute truth. “That, I promise.”

Sariel threw open the doors and gestured them inside. “Let us be done with this,” he snapped.

They entered a room that was a schoolgirl fantasy.

The walls were made of mirrors that reflected the overhead chandelier, giving the image of tiny diamonds dancing in the air. The floor was a polished wood and in the center of the room was a massive bed with a pink canopy.

Roke grimaced. He felt like he’d been shoved into an oversize dollhouse.

Unaware that his choice of décor proved just how little he knew about his daughter, Sariel held a hand over Roke’s head.

“Don’t move.”

Roke bared his fangs, immediately feeling a strange heat surge through his blood.

It wasn’t the intense blast of power that had knocked him unconscious when Sally had first enchanted him, but there was no mistaking something was happening.

At last the man dropped his hand and stepped back.

“Is the spell gone?” Sally demanded.

“Yes,” Sariel answered.

Shrugging out of his leather jacket, Roke allowed it to drop to the floor as he turned over his arm.

They watched in silence as the crimson tattooing slowly faded. Roke choked back a curse, able to feel the King of the Chatri’s smug satisfaction.

Lucky for the jackass, he didn’t have time to boast before there was a tingle beneath Roke’s skin and the mating mark returned, even more vivid than before.

With a fierce surge of satisfaction, he lifted his head to meet Sally’s dark gaze.

“I told you that you were my mate.”

She slowly smiled. “And you’re always right?”

He was barely aware he was moving before he had her wrapped in his arms, the feel of her soft curves making him instantly hard.

“Always,” he assured her.

“Sally,” her father snapped.

Roke lowered his head, his gaze intent on Sally’s flushed face.

“Go away, Sariel,” he growled.

There was a gasp of disbelief. “This is my home.”

Sally stroked her hands over Roke’s chest. “Father, please,” she murmured, clearly distracted.

With a huff, the king marched toward the door. “We will speak later.”

“Much later,” Roke warned.

Neither noticed the door slamming as Sariel made his dramatic exit, each too intent on the other and the intense emotions that were exploding through their bond.

There was relief and joy and the ever-present desire.

And love.

A stunning, how-did-I-ever-survive-without-this love.

“My mate,” Roke murmured, yanking off her sweatshirt so he could savor the sight of his mark branded into her inner arm.

It might not have been the typical mating that occurred between vampires, but it was just as real.

And just as lasting.

“Yes,” she breathed, a brilliant smile curving her lips.

He pulled her back into his arms, burying his face in her hair.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“Never,” she swore, her hands exploring his chest with a growing insistence.

Roke’s fangs pulsed in perfect tempo with his fully erect cock.

He’d denied his deepest hunger for so long.

Now he was being consumed by his most primitive instinct.

“I need—”

“Roke?” she prompted as he lifted his head to study the heat staining her cheeks.

He needed to watch her expression. He couldn’t bear to frighten her.

She’d had more than her fair share of unpleasant surprises.

“I need to taste you,” he said.

Her expression was more curious than wary as she considered his words. “You want to bite me?”

“More than you could ever possibly imagine,” he growled.

Slowly she tilted her head to the side, exposing her slender neck.

“Then do it.”

He quivered, nearly overcome with lust.

“You’re certain?”

She grabbed his face and urged it toward her throat. “Now, Roke.”

He didn’t need another invitation. Hell, he couldn’t have resisted another minute if there’d been a stake pressed to his heart.

Exposing his fangs, he struck at the base of her throat, sinking deep into her flesh.

Pleasure exploded through Roke as her blood hit his tongue, the taste finer than any aphrodisiac.

“God. You taste of peaches,” he muttered, his entire body shuddering with desire. “My favorite.”

“Oh . . . yes,” Sally groaned, her hands roughly tugging at his T-shirt.

“Sally?” he said and pulled out his fangs, carefully licking shut the tiny wounds.

“I need you naked.”

His cock gave a twitch of approval, trying to bust through the zipper of his jeans. But his brain hadn’t forgotten they were in Sariel’s territory. Who knew when the bastard might decide to return?

“What about your—”

Sally managed to wrangle the shirt over his head, her fingers moving to attack his jeans.

“Less talk, more action,” she commanded.

With a sinful chuckle, Roke gave in to the desire that thundered through him.

If anyone tried to interrupt them, he’d personally rip out their throats.

Leaning down he scooped Sally off her feet and headed for the pink monstrosity of a bed.

“I think I’ve managed to create a tyrant,” he murmured in full approval.

Sally didn’t know how much time had passed when the sound of yelling woke her from her pleasant dreams.

Untangling herself from Roke’s possessive arms, she slid off the bed and pulled on her satin gown.

“What the hell is going on?” her mate demanded, looking delectably sexy with his dark hair rumpled and his silver eyes still dark from their most recent bout of lovemaking.

“I’ll find out,” she promised, heading across the room.

She was pulling open the door when Roke was standing beside her, fully dressed and with a massive dagger clutched in his hands.

She rolled her eyes.

Vampire speed.

She’d never get used to it.

“Not alone you won’t,” he muttered.

Together they moved down the hallway, finding her father headed in their direction, his robe flowing and his golden hair floating as his power swirled around him.

Sally instinctively grabbed Roke’s hand as she viewed Sariel’s expression of pure fury.

“Father, has something happened?” she cautiously asked.

“That . . . vampire.”

Sally frowned before she realized he must be referring to Roke’s friend.

“Cyn?”

“He disappeared.” Sariel glared at Roke. “With my daughter.”

Roke blinked in bewilderment. “Which daughter?”

“Fallon.”

“Oh.” Sally hid her grimace.

Not that her father was in any mood to notice. He was already weaving his magic to create a portal.

“When I find him I will destroy him,” he swore, barely waiting for the opening to form before he was disappearing through it.

On impulse, Sally stepped into the edge of the portal even as Roke tried to wrap his brain around the unexpected disaster.

“Why would Cyn take your sister from her home?” he muttered. “He can be self-indulgent, but he would never put a female in danger.”

Sally wrinkled her nose, well aware that her sister was probably responsible for Cyn’s unusual behavior.

“It’s possible Fallon asked him to help her leave.”

“Oh . . . hell,” Roke muttered, reaching in his pocket to pull out his cell phone. “This is bad. I should call Styx and warn him.”

She reached to grab his wrist. Even if a cell phone did work in this dimension, she wasn’t about to unleash the King of Vampires on her sister. It was bad enough she was being hunted by their father.

Fallon had put herself in danger to reunite Sally with her mate.

She would do what she could to allow her sister a taste of the freedom she so desperately craved.

“Or we could allow Cyn and Fallon the opportunity to escape while we travel to your lair.”

“Our lair,” Roke automatically corrected.

“Our lair,” she agreed, holding his gaze. “What do you say?”

He glanced around the empty hallway. “Can we get out of here?”

She tugged him toward her. “I stepped into the entrance of the portal my father created when he took off in a huff. It remains open.”

“Ah.” He gave a soft laugh as the swirl of magic danced around them. “Well played, my clever witch, well played.”

She went on her toes to press a lingering kiss on his mouth.

“Let’s go home.”