“What is it?” Her alarm spiked as Bliss headed directly to a far wall, touching a hidden lever. With a faint click a panel slid inward to reveal a dark tunnel. “Roke, what’s going on?”
Sliding a protective arm around her shoulders, Roke urged her toward the opening.
“The locals have sensed your presence.”
She frowned. “What locals?”
“The fey. A dozen nymphs are currently kneeling in the hallway.”
Cyn made a sound of surprise while Sally felt a queasy fear roll through her gut.
“It could be the box, you know,” she muttered.
“Either way the fey are beginning to attract attention,” he said, his ruthless push toward the door saying loud and clear he didn’t believe for a second the nymphs were interested in the box.
Her fear ratcheted up another notch.
“Do you think they’re a danger?”
“I don’t know, and until I’m certain, they’re not getting near you.”
They stepped into the tunnel only to be halted by Cyn.
“Can you protect her without me?” the large vampire demanded, shoving the box into Roke’s hand.
“The day I can’t protect what’s mine I’ll hang up my fangs,” Roke growled.
“Good. I’ll make sure you’re not followed.”
Roke placed a hand on Cyn’s shoulder. “Thank you, old friend.”
Cyn nodded, the thin braids brushing against his cheeks as he leaned down to speak in a low voice that wouldn’t carry.
“Be careful, Roke,” he warned. “The fey pretend to be brainless fools who think of nothing but pleasure, but there’s a darkness just below the surface and powers they rarely reveal.”
“I have no intention of taking unnecessary risks,” Roke promised, his gaze sliding toward Sally. “I can’t say the same for my companion.”
She narrowed her gaze. Jackass.
“Feel free to stay with your friend,” she snapped. “I’m happy to be on my own.”
The silver eyes flared with an unfathomable emotion. “Never again.”
Sally found it oddly difficult to breathe as she became ensnared in his shimmering gaze, losing track of their surroundings until an impatient female voice sliced through the thick air.
“There will be a boat waiting for you.”
Roke offered the woman a small dip of his head. “We’re in your debt.”
Bliss leaned forward to trail her lips down his cheek. “You certainly are.”
“She—”
Without giving Sally the opportunity to react, Roke was hustling her down the tunnel that led to the edge of the island.
“Don’t let her bother you,” he muttered.
The very intensity of the need to go back and scratch out the female vampire’s eyes made Sally grit her teeth.
She didn’t want to feel this . . . insane jealousy.
“She doesn’t,” she forced herself to say, breathing hard as she struggled to keep up with his swift pace. “If she wants you, she can have you.”
He shot her a brooding glance. “Liar.”
She was.
But she’d be damned if she would admit it.
Instead, she clamped her lips together and allowed herself to be led to the end of the tunnel in silence.
She even managed to hold her tongue as she was tossed in the waiting motorboat that was swiftly slicing through the waves with a throaty power.
They slowed as they reached the rocky shoreline, but clearly too impatient to wait for the boat to come to a halt, Roke scooped her off her feet.
“Hold on.”
It was her only warning before Roke was giving a mighty surge and they were flying through the salt-scented air.
Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as they landed on a protruding boulder. She expected a jolt that would send them tumbling back into the water.
Of course, she was in the arms of a vampire.
She barely felt his feet touch the ground before they were leaping upward again, climbing the steep cliff with an ease that a billy goat would envy.
In a matter of seconds they’d reached the top of the cliff and Sally shivered as a blast of icy air hit them. He tightened his arms around her as he raised his body temperature to keep her warm.
A part of her wanted to snuggle into that unexpected warmth. To press her face into the curve of his neck and allow his scent to soothe the lingering irritation that another woman had dared to touch him.
Another part was desperate to regain some sense of control over the mind-numbing chaos that was now her life.
“Roke,” she said, angling her head to study his stark profile as he cut a fluid path through the thickening trees. “Wait.”
His steps never faltered. Typical.
“We need to hurry.”
“Hurry to where?”
His lips twisted. “What choice do we have?”
It took her a confused minute to shuffle through the meaning of his obscure words.
It was only when she noticed the stubborn angle of his jaw that the truth hit her.
“No,” she rasped. “I’ve told you, I’m not going to Nevada.”
The silver eyes blazed in the moonlight. “It’s the only place we can be safe.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I went to Styx,” she hissed.
He muttered a low curse, clearly annoyed by her refusal to forgive and forget her treatment at the hands of his Anasso.
“You are a stranger. And a witch,” he said, his gaze searching the darkness for any hint of danger. “Styx was naturally suspicious.”
“And now I’m naturally suspicious,” she mutinously countered. “‘Fool me once’ and all that crap.”
“So what do you suggest?” He slowed his pace so he could glare down at her stubborn expression. “That we run around in circles?”
She met his smoldering gaze.
For once, she’d actually given it some thought.
“Obviously we need to find a fey that we can trust to tell us what the hell is going on.”
He showed a hint of fang. “There’s no such thing as a trustworthy fey.”
The whiff of granite was the only warning before the tiny gargoyle fluttered down from the branch of a nearby tree.
“I can, perhaps, be of service.”
“Shit.” In one dizzying movement Roke had Sally lowered to the ground, shoving her behind him so his hands were free to destroy the latest threat. Even if that threat was only three feet tall. “Where did you come from?”
Levet gave a flap of his wings, impervious as ever to the danger coating the air with ice.