“So it did.” Gaius snapped impatient fingers toward the silent Ingrid. “What are you waiting for? Get the restraints on them.”
With a visible shudder the female cur crept forward, tugging on leather gloves before removing the silver shackles from her bag. “Holy shit,” she breathed, snapping the cuffs around Caine’s distorted wrists. “That’s nasty.”
Gaius watched as the cur efficiently placed matching cuffs around the Were’s ankles before she moved to perform the same service on Cassandra. Instantly, the stench of searing flesh filled the air.
The silver would keep the prisoners incapacitated even if they did manage to wake from the spell.
Once she was finished she moved back to stand at Dolf ’s side, her hand running an intimate caress along the bulging muscles of his bare arm.
Gaius didn’t bother to disguise his grimace. He had more important things to hide.
“Take your sister and search the rest of the house,” he commanded of the male cur. “Start in the cellars.”
“Why? We already know that—”
“I gave you a command, dog.”
Both twins flinched at the icy warning in his voice.
“Fine,” Dolf muttered, grabbing his sister by the hand and pulling her out of the room.
Waiting until he could hear their footsteps descending the staircase, Gaius pointed toward the witch, who hovered near the door, as if ready for a quick retreat. “You.”
“Sally,” she reminded him in sullen tones. “It’s not hard to remember.”
He ignored her complaint. “Go outside and make sure the spells are still intact.”
Predictably, the witch narrowed her gaze in suspicion. Unlike the curs, she had a functioning brain. Unfortunate, but nothing that was going to spoil his plans.
“What are you plotting?”
“I’m plotting to keep us from being ambushed. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No problem.”
“Then go.”
She studied him for a long minute, then with a shrug, she turned to head out the door. “Whatever.”
Gaius remained frozen in place until the door had shut behind the witch and he could sense her moving down the staircase and out of the house. Only then did he cross to kneel beside the unconscious Weres, making certain they remained locked in the spell before he tugged the medallion from beneath his sweater, clutching it in a white-knuckled grip.
The strange amulet allowed him to mist-walk. That much he’d already proven by leaving behind the Veil. And the Dark Lord had said that it could be used to travel to the prison where he was being held.
But the question was, just how close would the medallion take him to his master?
A hell dimension, after all, could consume a considerable amount of territory. He could waste hours, days . . . hell, centuries.
Still, he had no choice but to take the risk. It was the only way to be certain he could claim full credit for fulfilling the Dark Lord’s command.
Closing his eyes, Gaius sorted through his mind with a clinical precision, at last locating the faint bond that led from the medallion to the distant sense of power.
Evil, pulsing, insidious power.
He shuddered in revulsion, but grimly reminding himself of all he’d already sacrificed, he closed his eyes and allowed the world to dissolve around him.
Chapter 12
Mere seconds later he wrenched open his eyes to discover he was surrounded by a thick white fog. Disoriented, it took him a second to realize he was still on his knees with the unconscious Weres stretched out beside him.
Slowly he rose to his feet, scanning the strange mist with a wary frown. Where the hell was he?
“Master?” he called softly, puzzled by the emptiness that surrounded him. He’d been expecting fire and brimstone. Instead, it felt as if he were standing alone in the middle of a snow globe. “Hello?”
Then, just when he was debating whether or not to chalk it up to a failed experiment and return to the farmhouse, Gaius was sent back to his knees as an annihilating pain slammed through him.
“How terribly odd,” a deep, disembodied voice mocked. “I do not recall inviting you into my lair, vampire.”
Gaius pressed his head to the ground covered by mist, his muscles trembling beneath the brutal pressure of the Dark Lord’s power.
Be careful what you wish for, he wryly told himself.
“I have come to show you that I have captured the prophet and her protector as you commanded,” he managed to grit between clenched teeth.
“And you assume that your gifts will allow me to forgive your intrusion?”
“I thought you would wish to have them in your hands as soon as possible, my lord.”
“I see.” There was a long, excruciating pause. “And where are your companions?”
“They were unnecessary baggage once the Weres had been incapacitated.”
The power pulsing in the air altered, the pressure easing to become a sharp-edged punishment that threatened to flay the skin from his body.
“And you hoped to be granted the full reward for their capture?”
Hell, yes.
Why would he share the rewards with the damned curs and witch if he could claim full benefits? Honor was the first thing he’d sacrificed after the death of his mate.
Unfortunately, the Dark Lord didn’t seem to be as pleased by his surprise appearance as Gaius had hoped. Perhaps it was time for some damage control.
“I only seek to be given what I was promised,” he carefully admitted.
“I have not forgotten our bargain.” The fog stirred, as if reacting to the Dark Lord’s flare of impatience. “Nor the fact that you pledged fealty to me until I deemed you had earned the return of your mate.”
“The prophet . . .”
“Is a mere down payment on the debt owed.”
The razor-sharp words sent a shiver of anxiety down Gaius’s spine. Cautiously he lifted his head, unable to see anything beyond the choking fog.
“Down payment?”
There was a sneering laugh. “Surely you don’t hold the value of your beloved mate so cheap as to think you could earn her return so easily?”
Easily?
Cristo. He’d betrayed his son, his clan, and his own soul to become a servant of darkness.
A spike of loss pierced his heart, giving him the foolish courage to slowly rise to his feet. “I have served you loyally for centuries, my lord.”
“And what have I asked of you?” The force of the angry question sent Gaius reeling backward. “To acquire skills that have only made you more formidable? To be prepared for the day of my return? Hardly onerous tasks.”