“Protected from what?”
“The darkness.” She shuddered. “Evil.”
“Where is the mysterious child?”
“I’m not sure.”
His lips twisted. Exactly what he’d expected. “Great.”
Tilting back her head, Cassie stabbed him with a fierce gaze. “Caine, he must be protected.”
Chapter 10
It was the middle of the night when the small jet landed on the private airstrip in a remote field south of Chicago.
With a smooth efficiency it was quickly whisked into the small hangar, and the landing lights switched off before attracting unwanted curiosity.
Vampires made drug runners look like amateurs when it came to “flying below the radar.”
Laylah tossed aside the glossy magazine that had been filled with painfully gaunt females who were dressed in ridiculous outfits and wearing shoes that looked like torture devises. Of course, the spiked heels would come in handy if she had to spend any more time in the company of vampires. So long as the heels were made of wood.
Something to consider.
The wheels came to a halt, and Laylah was on her feet, moving past the low leather seats that were arranged around small tables and set to easily view the flat screen monitor on the wall.
The elegant décor was carried into the gourmet kitchen and cocktail bar that was fully stocked with delicacies to tempt the most discerning demon. No doubt the bedrooms where Tane was safely tucked in a sealed compartment were equally lavish, but she’d sternly refused to allow herself to leave the forward cabin.
She wasn’t a hypocrite.
Sex with Tane had been …
She shifted through a number of adjectives, but none of them came close to describing the explosive pleasure of Tane’s touch.
The man had serious skills between the sheets.
No, she couldn’t make herself regret giving into temptation, but she also couldn’t ignore her problems that were piling up with frightening speed.
A woman who might or might not be her mother who was being held captive in an unknown location.
A crazy-ass aunt in league with a demented mage who were no doubt hot on her trail.
A child that was soon going to be considered the freaking jackpot for every demon hoping to curry favor with the Dark Lord.
And a ruthless vampire who she suspected intended to turn her over to the Commission the minute she let down her guard.
Yep, it all added up to problems with a capital P.
The door to the jet was tugged open by a uniformed vampire and without missing a step she was headed down the metal stairs and glancing about the hangar. It was larger than she’d first suspected and as bright as day with fluorescent lights running the length of the curved ceiling. It was also immaculate. A testament to Victor’s control over his servants, even an ocean away.
Which meant they’d already been ordered not to let her escape.
She grimaced, ignoring the nearby exit as the intoxicating scent of Tane spiced the air. On some level she’d known she would never have time to flee, even with him locked in the private compartment. It was still annoying as hell.
There was the sound of flapping wings as Levet landed at her side, his ugly little face pinched with displeasure.
“Worst. Airline. Ever,” he muttered, waving his pudgy arms. “No drinks, no peanuts, no in-flight movie. Not even a sexy stewardess waiting to induct me into the Mile
High Club.”
Laylah smiled despite her bad mood. “You were a statue for most of the flight.”
Levet sniffed. “All the more reason to have suitable accommodations when I awoke.”
“I warned you to leave him in London,” Tane’s dark voice wrapped around her, making her flesh prickle with awareness. Damned vampire. “Of course, Victor did warn me not to even consider slipping away without him.”
Laylah stubbornly refused to turn and watch Tane’s approach.
What was the point?
Her body was already giving her a play-by-play.
The soft tread of his bare feet against the cement floor. The cool wash of his power that filled the air. The male scent that made her think of things that were illegal in some states.
Then he was standing at her side, his golden skin glowing in the overhead lights, and his face impossibly beautiful.
Her heart gave an odd, dangerous lurch before she was squashing the sensation.
The vampire was drop-dead, heart-stopping, Johnny Depp gorgeous. And of course, there was that whole badboy thing with the mohawk and huge dagger stuck in the waistband of his shorts.
Not that he needed either to be a badass.
It was chiseled into his DNA.
Was it any wonder when he strolled around wearing nothing more than a pair of khaki shorts her hormones were shot into hyperdrive?
Heat washed through her as she met the liquid honey gaze, but before she could make a complete fool of herself, Tane was abruptly whirling toward the back of the hangar, shifting to stand between her and whatever he’d sensed approaching.
“What is that stench?” Levet complained, his eyes widening in sudden surprise. “Ah, I should have known. The King of I-have-a-bigger-stick-stuck-up-my-derrière-than-you is approaching.”
Laylah frowned. “Who?”
“The Anasso.” Tane shot a warning glare at the gargoyle. “You’ll show proper respect or I’ll have your head mounted on my wall, gargoyle.”
“Shit.” Laylah didn’t think. She whirled on her heel and took off.
Two steps later, Tane had her by the arm and spinning about to meet his searching gaze. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere that isn’t here.” She gritted, futilely struggling against his hold. “Maybe you’ve forgotten I’m considered the equivalent of Typhoid Mary among the demon world, but I can promise you the King of Vampires hasn’t. He’ll consider it his duty to hand me over to the Oracles.”
“Laylah, it’s too late to run.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Damn you. You led me straight into a trap.”
His brows snapped together, like he was offended. “No, Laylah. I didn’t contact Styx.” “Yeah right. You expect me to believe he just happened to make a royal appearance at a tiny airport in the middle of nowhere?” “Tane speaks the truth.”
A voice echoed through the hangar, the air so thick with frigid power Laylah could barely breathe. Holy shit.
Talk about making an entrance. With her heart lodged in her throat, Laylah forced herself to turn. And was terrified all over again. But who wouldn’t be?
Styx, King of all the Vampires, was a towering brute. He easily topped six foot five, with shoulders that looked like they should be registered in different counties. He was dressed in black leather matched with heavy shit-kickers that would have given Tim Gunn an ulcer, and his raven hair was pulled into a braid that fell to the back of his knees.