Gaius bowed his head, but his growing desperation overcame his claim to sanity. “Perhaps not, but I have missed Dara so badly that each day is a torture,” he confessed, unashamed of the edge of pleading in his voice. “I ache to hold her in my arms again.”
“While I have been trapped in this hell between worlds, stripped of my form and all but my most primitive powers.” The fog suddenly boiled with a searing heat, threatening to toast Gaius into a tiny pile of ash. “Do not speak to me of torture.”
Gaius fell to his knees, his head bowed. “Forgive me, Master.”
“I don’t want your pathetic apologies.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Your obedience.”
“I am your servant, as always.”
“Then prove your loyalty.”
Gaius didn’t dare to so much as twitch as the blast of heat slowly began to dissipate. Inwardly, he fiercely struggled to obliterate the niggle of suspicion that was beginning to worm its way through his mind.
He couldn’t allow himself to question whether or not the Dark Lord intended to fulfill his end of the bargain.
The doubt would destroy him.
“What do you want from me?” he instead asked.
“Return to the servants I have given you.”
Gaius glanced toward the Weres nearly hidden in the fog. “What of the prophet and her companion?”
“She’s now mine.” The voice purred with satisfaction. “Which means her gift is mine. At last.”
Gaius struggled to disguise his impatience. If the Dark Lord was so pleased, why wasn’t he showing a little more gratitude?
“So I just return and await my reward?”
“No.” The Dark Lord crushed his brief hope and Gaius struggled to rise to his feet. “You will lead your allies to protect my disciple, Rafael.”
Yet another disciple?
Merda. Was he expected to babysit every damned demon who claimed allegiance to the Dark Lord?
“I am, of course, anxious to do as you command.”
There was a chuckle that made Gaius’s flesh crawl. “You don’t sound anxious.”
“I’m not sure I have the necessary strength to use the medallion to transport two curs and a witch without an opportunity to rest and feed,” he improvised.
Although he had no memory of his years as a Roman general, he retained all the cunning that had led him to such a position of power.
“There will be no need to shadow-walk,” the voice informed him. “It’s a short distance from Caine’s lair to where Rafael is hidden.”
Before Gaius could contrive another excuse there was a sudden explosion in his head. With a sharp cry, he pressed his hands to his temples, unprepared for the vision—a gaunt spirit with crimson fire burning in his sunken eyes—that was branded into his brain. As the Dark Lord had promised, the creature was hidden in a spiderweb of tunnels only miles away from Caine’s farmhouse. That didn’t, however, make him any happier.
“You want me to protect a dead wizard?” he hissed, shaking his head in an effort to ease the pain of his brain being used as the Dark Lord’s personal GPS.
“You’ll do as I command,” the master snapped. “I have no interest in your prejudice toward magic-users.”
“Of course,” Gaius readily agreed, dropping his hands. “I just wonder why such a powerful spirit can’t protect himself.”
“Not that I need to explain my orders to you, Gaius, but the wizard is currently protecting my child.”
Gaius made a sound of shock, abruptly understanding the Dark Lord’s vehemence that the wizard be protected.
The babes had been created centuries ago and, if rumors were to be believed, they were intended to be used as a means of resurrecting the Dark Lord if all other efforts failed to return him to the world.
“The Alpha and Omega,” he muttered.
“Only one.” An anger as vast and merciless as the pits of hell pulsed through the fog. “The other babe is in the hands of the leeches. They can’t be allowed to interfere again. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will lead the curs and the witch to this meadow.” There was another painful intrusion into his mind. This time the image was of a slender fey male with long chestnut hair and oddly metallic bronze eyes. At his side was a slender female vampire with dark hair and blue eyes. They both stood in the center of a meadow not far from the tunnels where the wizard was hidden. “The Sylvermyst and the vampire must not be allowed to reach Rafael while he is finishing his preparations to bring me my child.”
Gaius nodded. Did he have a choice? “Fine.”
“Once the child has been brought to me, I want you and Dolf to return here.” There was a kiss of pain. “Understood?”
“Completely.”
“And, Gaius.”
“My lord?”
“The next time you arrive without invitation I will assume that you’re here to challenge me,” the Dark Lord warned in soft, lethal tones. “You won’t like my punishment.”
Gaius offered a deep bow, wryly conceding he’d miscalculated. Badly.
He’d hauled the prophet and her protector to this dimension in the futile hope that the Dark Lord would be so pleased that he would return Dara in effusive gratitude. Instead, the Dark Lord had barely acknowledged his offering and, rather than being pleased, he’d threatened grim reprisals if Gaius ever approached without permission.
To make matters worse, he had to return to the damned curs and witch to save yet another magic-user.
Not his finest night.
Wrapping his fingers around the medallion, he closed his eyes and disappeared.
The Dark Lord’s prison
Two weeks later
Cassie opened her eyes to discover she was shrouded in a thick mist.
She wasn’t surprised.
Despite being held unconscious in the cur’s spell, she’d been distantly aware of being transported to another dimension and the passage of time.
There had also been dreams. Strange dreams where she’d sensed a female vampire and Sylvermyst creeping through the fog in search of a mage carrying an unconscious child.
And then there had been a terrifying power struggle that had made the very air shudder in fear.
And speaking of shuddering in fear . . .
Shoving herself to her feet, Cassie absently rubbed her wrists, feeling the uncharacteristic smoothness. New skin. Which meant she’d been injured while she slept. No doubt silver handcuffs, she hazarded a guess.