“Ah yes, your precious Sylvermyst.” He glanced toward the slender warriors who were nearly impossible to see among the dark shadows of the trees. “Tell me, Marika, just where is Ariyal?”
Her expression revealed none of her fury at Ariyal’s vanishing act.
Or the suspicion he wasn’t as dedicated to the cause as he pretended to be.
“He was obviously captured or killed.”
“Or he switched sides.”
Her tongue toyed with the tip of her fang. A reminder that for all of Sergei’s magical abilities, she could kill him with one strike.
“Jealous, Sergei?”
“Jealous of a fey who spent endless centuries playing whore to Morgana le Fey?” His disdainful tone didn’t entirely hide his edge of envy. Ariyal hadn’t bothered to conceal his amusement at the mage’s superior attitude. The fey was a natural leader of his people who had no need of magical tricks to gain respect. “Not hardly.”
Marika laughed with cruel enjoyment. “He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
“He’s a demon whose loyalty is for sale to the highest bidder,” the mage snapped. “Be careful, my dear. He might be using your own army to betray you.”
The fact that the fear had crossed her mind more than once infuriated Marika.
She regarded him with a cold glare. “The only traitor in my employ is you, mage.”
Sergei was an arrogant ass, but he wasn’t suicidal. Dropping the subject he instead glanced toward the house that was guarded by a dozen vampires.
“How long do you intend to wait here?”
“As long as Laylah and the babe remain.”
“They could stay in the Anasso’s lair for the rest of eternity.”
“Then we wait.”
Biting back his angry words, Sergei turned to pace through the thick undergrowth, his hands clenched at his side.
Marika left him to his pouting, returning her attention to the Anasso’s lair. If Laylah had any sense she would remain in the protection of the King of Vampires, but she’d already proven she was willing to take ridiculous risks when it came to protecting the child.
Eventually she would find some need to leave.
And when she did, Marika would be prepared.
She wouldn’t escape again.
It was nearing midnight when Sergei abruptly fell to his knees, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. “Bloody hell,” he gritted.
Marika whirled to study him with displeasure. “What is it now?”
“Someone just entered the cave in Siberia.” “What cave?”
Slowly he lifted his head. “The one where I found the child.”
Marika watched the mage climb to his feet, unease stirring in her heart.
“How do you know?”
“I set alarms in case there was any unwanted interest.”
“It could be an animal or an overly curious human.”
He shook his head. “No, the spell was cast to ignore the mundane intruders, even if they could penetrate the natural barriers.”
“So it’s a demon?”
She paced across the uneven ground, the sense of foreboding knotting her stomach.
There was no reason for a demon to be roaming in such a frozen, desolate cave. Even those who preferred the cold avoided the area that was riddled with active volcanoes and a barren lack of prey.
“Or a magic user,” Sergei added.
She halted, a dark suspicion spreading through her like poison.
“Laylah,” she breathed.
Sergei frowned. “I have no way of knowing for sure.” Marika had no doubts.
The worthless bit of baggage was just like her mother.
Stubborn, rebellious, and refusing to concede gracefully to her inevitable fate.
Thankfully, Marika would soon have the mongrel in her hands. Then she would teach the child how to obey her betters. No matter how much pain it took.
A smile of anticipation curled her lips.
She liked teaching people to obey her.
“It’s her,” she said with absolute confidence.
“It makes no sense.” Sergei waved his hands in confusion. “Why would she travel to an empty cave in the frozen mountains of Siberia?”
“She must have discovered some information of the child,” Marika reasoned, glaring toward the mansion. It was infuriating that Laylah could use her powers to sneak away. “What if the bitch seeks to call the Dark Lord herself?” Turning her back on Sergei, she headed toward the nearest Sylvermyst. “We must go.”
The mage stumbled to catch up to her long strides. “Marika, wait.”
“We have no time to lose.”
“Have you considered the possibility this is a trap.”
Marika came to an abrupt halt, stabbing Sergei with a suspicious glare.
“Trap?”
“How better to get you off the trail than to send you half a world away?” he said, clearly desperate to avoid an uncomfortable journey to northern Siberia.
She tapped her tongue on the point of one fang, considering his logic. She hadn’t lived so long by being impulsive.
Or stupid.
At last she continued her path to the copper-haired Sylvermyst she’d taken as her most recent lover. He was second to Ariyal, but far more … malleable.
Her steps faltered at the stinging memory of Ariyal’s rejection of her advances. He hadn’t even pretended that he found her anything but a means to an end.
Angrily she squashed the image.
The bastard was no doubt in his grave.
A pity considering he was by far the most powerful of the Sylvermyst and their undoubted leader, but hardly a disaster.
Marika was a master at turning any situation to her advantage.
“No, they couldn’t possibly have known that you had cast a spell to alert you to trespassers,” she said, her firm tone revealing she wasn’t going to argue the point.
Sergei swore, hurrying to catch up. “Then what if it’s a random demon who strayed into the cave?” he demanded. “By the time we realize our mistake the Jinn could leave this lair and be long gone.”
“Not with our newfound friends.” She halted directly before Tearloch, her fingers stroking down the smooth skin the color of rich cream. “We can search the cavern and return before Laylah could possibly escape.”
“We’re going to regret this,” Sergei muttered.
“Remain here if you wish, coward.” With a firm grip Marika led the impassive Tearloch deeper into the woods, away from any prying eyes. She didn’t intend to give Laylah the opportunity to realize that she was about to have surprise visitors. “I won’t allow anyone to steal the glory that should be mine.”