“Hold on, chief. I didn’t rescue your sorry hide to have you throw it away in some futile display of heroism.”
Before the imp could so much as blink, Cezar had his hand wrapped around the fool’s throat and was dangling him off the ground.
“Don’t try to stand in my path, imp,” he warned. “You won’t like the results.”
Troy’s eyes bulged as he struggled against Cezar’s hold, his complexion taking on a bluish tinge. “If you go charging down there Morgana will know that she no longer holds her threat over Anna. She will kill her before you can even get close.”
“You expect me to hide up here while Anna is in danger?” Cezar rasped.
“Damn, vampire, unlike you I need air. Let go.”
“I’m going to Anna.”
“At least warn her that you’re okay before you charge in there and start World War Three. She needs to know to protect herself.”
Cezar grudgingly accepted that the imp did have a point. For the moment Morgana presumed that she held the advantage. As long as she continued to believe that, she would be willing to savor her defeat of Anna. She was too arrogant not to want to gloat.
However, the moment she actually feared that she might be in true danger…
“Si. You’re right,” he muttered, dropping the imp back to the floorboards. “I must think.”
Troy managed to regain his feet, massaging his bruised neck. “Thank freaking God.”
“Don’t push me, imp,” Cezar growled, closing his eyes and turning his thoughts to the vampires below.
“What are you doing?” Troy demanded.
“Making a call.”
“You know it might be easier if you had a cell phone.”
Cezar’s hands twitched, but he managed to resist the urge to continue squeezing the life from the aggravating creature. Not out of any sense of compassion, but quite simply because he knew that Anna would not approve.
He was a mated vampire and the happiness of his female came before all other considerations.
“It would be easier if you would just shut up for a few minutes,” he snapped.
“Fine.” Troy made a sound of disgust. “This is the very last time I try to help vampires. Arrogant, cold bastards.”
Wisely ignoring the imp, Cezar reached out to his Anasso, careful to keep his powers restrained. The longer Morgana believed he was still bound in silver and harmless, the better.
“Styx.”
“Cezar, are you harmed?” The ancient vampire’s voice echoed through his mind with a fierce concern.
“I’m recovering. Tell me what is happening.”
“Jagr and I are downstairs surrounded by a bunch of very nervous fairies with twitchy fingers. I don’t think startling them would be a good idea at this point.”
It was exactly what Cezar had been expecting. Morgana might be an arrogant bitch, but she wasn’t stupid.
“What of Viper and Dante?”
“They are with Abby, Shay, and Darcy outside. They have the house surrounded, to make sure that no reinforcements can catch us unaware.”
Cezar’s lips unconsciously twitched. Styx might have been forced to take on the role of the Anasso, but he would always be a warrior at heart.
“I will try to reach Anna, although she’s not accustomed to accepting my thoughts into her own. She may not understand that it is truly me and not an illusion.”
“Anna Randal is remarkably intelligent, not to mention as stubborn as a werewolf, amigo,” Styx assured him dryly. “She will not fail you.”
No, she wouldn’t.
She possessed enough heart and courage to make his blood run cold.
“That’s not the question.”
Sensing Cezar’s frustration at his continual inability to keep Anna from harm, Styx filled Cezar’s mind with a flood of stern disapproval.
“Cezar, you have sacrificed centuries for this woman. You are incapable of failing her.” His voice echoed through Cezar, bringing a wry smile to his lips.
There was no point in arguing with the king. His loyalty was the stuff of legends. “After I contact Anna I will create a distraction,” he said instead. “Can you disarm the fairies?”
There was no need to see Styx’s expression to know he was outraged that Cezar would even ask such a question. “Are you trying to be amusing?”
“Just be ready.”
“Always.”
Pulling his thoughts from Styx, Cezar concentrated on his mate. On a distant level he was aware of the imp pacing the floor with a nervous step, and the stale dust that choked the air. He was even aware of the scent of the demons that patrolled the grounds outside. His attention, however, never wavered as he warily tapped into the thoughts of the woman he loved.
“Anna,” he said softly.
Her shock was tangible as she struggled to understand what was happening. “Cezar?”
“Anna, don’t speak aloud,” he commanded, his body tight with fear that she might reveal his presence to Morgana. Anna was close, but still too far away to save if Morgana should strike out. “I can hear your thoughts.”
There was a brief moment as Anna calmed her mind and body, the sweet smell of figs swirling through Cezar with a familiar warmth.
“Are you hurt? Morgana said…”
“I’m well,” he hastily assured her. “What of you?”
“I’m fine.”
Cezar greedily drank in the sense of Anna, a surge of anger racing through him as he felt the pain she tried to conceal.
“You’ve been injured.”
“It’s nothing.”
His teeth snapped together in frustration, but unable to do anything to help ease her wounds, he reminded himself of the danger of wasting even a moment.
“You’re with Morgana?”
“Yes.”
“You must not allow her to suspect that I am conscious. Can you listen to me without revealing my presence to Morgana?”
“I’ll try.” Her courage wavered before she pulled it back around her like a well-worn cloak. “She said that she had you chained with a stake to your heart.”
“Troy decided he didn’t particularly care for the thought of being Morgana’s whipping boy for the next few centuries,” he assured her. “He’s placed his bet on the fact that we can bring an end to her.”
“Yeah, that’s the same bet I placed.”
His heart squeezed. Dios. He would find the means to save her. There was no other option.