Marika and Sergei had discovered her presence and while Laylah had swiftly fled, they’d been hot on her trail.
Even worse, her psychic link to her sister and daughter had become oddly erratic, as if there was something blocking her powers.
While she was currently struggling with all she was worth against the spells that held her captive.
Laylah was in trouble, and she had to reach her.
Lost in her dark thoughts, she was distantly aware of the Sylvermyst who guarded the tomb where she was held prisoner. They never bothered her, but she didn’t doubt that even if she did manage to free herself from Sergei’s bonds, they would prove a difficult barrier to her escape.
A worry for later.
Then she stiffened as her senses picked up an intruder closer at hand.
Yannah.
She didn’t know who, or even what, Yannah was.
She had to be a demon, of course. No human, or even witch, could possibly pop in and out of the buried cell. But since Kata had been near comatose from Sergei’s spell she had no more than a vague image of a small creature with a low, musical voice who had fluttered about her unconscious form and soothed her when she was troubled.
Over the years she’d become accustomed to the female’s unpredictable visits, assuming that if she wanted to hurt her she’d have already done the deed. Not even the most patient demon spent two centuries fussing over a person before striking a death blow.
In fact, she’d begun to think of her as her guardian angel.
Caught in her frantic battle to free herself, Kata was unprepared when the spells that were holding her prisoner abruptly shattered.
With a strangled gasp she fell off the narrow cot. Still entangled with the shroud that had been thrown over her, Kata was incapable of stopping herself from smacking face first onto the hard floor.
Typical.
“Oof.”
“Are you hurt?” A small, heart-shaped face with the almond shaped eyes that were entirely filled with black suddenly appeared in front of her.
“Yannah?” she breathed.
“That’s me.”
Kata managed to roll onto her back, her gaze sliding over the female’s tiny body that was covered by a plain white robe and the fair hair that was pulled into a braid that fell past her waist.
She might have been mistaken for a child if not for the piercing wisdom that shimmered in the dark eyes.
And, oh yeah, the mouth full of razor sharp teeth.
Blessed mother.
Fighting her way out of the shroud, Kata rose to her feet, her hands absently smoothing down the thin white nightgown that fell past her knees.
“What happened?” she demanded.
The tiny demon wrinkled her nose. “The spell is broken. The mage is traveling through distant lands.” Her head tilted to the side, as if she were mentally searching for the missing Sergei. “Very distant.”
Kata shivered. There was nowhere distant enough.
Bastard.
But for the moment she was more interested in the stark void in the back of her mind.
“Marika?” she whispered.
Yannah smiled, revealing her pointed teeth. “Ding dong the witch is dead.”
Kata sucked in a shocked breath, feeling nothing but a savage flare of satisfaction. It had taken years to accept that the creature who walked around with her sister’s face wasn’t Marika, but instead the coldblooded bitch who’d killed her. Now she had no trouble rejoicing in the thought of the world without the evil vampire.
She did, however, have difficulty in believing she was really and truly rid of her.
“You’re certain she’s dead?”
“Quite, quite dead.” Yannah wrinkled her tiny nose. “A shame really.”
“Shame?” Kata’s fury (that had had four long, hideous centuries to stew) abruptly boiled over. “I hope the bitch burns in the pits of hell for all eternity.”
“Oh, I’m certain justice will be served.”
“Good.”
“But you aren’t silly enough to think your sister . . .”
“That creature was not my sister,” Kata hissed. “She killed my beloved Marika and stole her body.”
“Yes, yes.” Yannah waved an impatient hand. “Cue the violins.”
Kata frowned. “What?”
Without warning the small demon moved forward and poked her finger in the middle of Kata’s stomach.
“Shut up and listen.”
“Ow.”
Yannah was supremely unrepentant. “Do I have your attention?”
Kata rubbed her stomach. The poke hadn’t truly hurt, but it did smash her image of Yannah as a sweet, harmless creature who was only there to offer comfort. There was a power that pulsed in the air around her and a ruthless purpose that shimmered in the depths of her black eyes.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Didn’t I say it was a shame Marika was dead?”
Kata remained wary, wondering if this was some sort of trap.
“You did.”
“Well, it isn’t because anyone will mourn her passing.”
“Then why?”
“Because she made a nasty provision in the event of her untimely demise.”
“Provision? I don’t believe it.” Kata’s lips curled at the thought of Marika’s flagrant conceit. “The cold-blooded creature was too arrogant to believe anything could kill her.”
“It wasn’t arrogance, it was strategy.” Yannah wagged a finger. “Tricky, tricky vampire.”
Kata sank onto the edge of the cot, her head aching and her stomach queasy.
Not surprising.
In the span of five minutes she’d been jolted out of a spell that had kept her imprisoned for centuries, she’d been violently stripped of her connection to her sister, and every muscle in her body was cramping as they came back to painful life.
“I feel like I am going to throw up,” she husked, “could you please speak clearly?”
Kata wasn’t looking for a plethora of sympathy, but she sure as hell didn’t expect Yannah to smack her on the back of the head.
“Use that brain in your pretty head. Marika was betrayed by Sergei. He was supposed to tell her the very second he discovered the location of your daughter and managed to kidnap her.”
“Yeah, I got that. She wasn’t a bit pleased when the bastard forced Laylah to steal the child of the Dark Lord and tried to keep the baby hidden from her. Do you think I was any happier? He tortured my poor girl.”
“What you felt is meaningless.”
Kata scowled at the tiny demon. Dammit. If Yannah was her guardian angel then she’d gotten ripped off.