Home > Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(50)

Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(50)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

Sally bit her lip, fear galloping through her. If something happened to Roke, it would be entirely her fault.

How could she live knowing what she’d done?

Oh hell, if something happened to Roke, she wouldn’t want to live.

“I can’t.”

“Only you can do it, Sally,” the female pressed. “Break the mating.”

“It’s impossible,” she cried.

The compulsion continued to beat at her for a silent minute, then, with a click of her tongue, the leech took a step back and smoothed her hands down her spandex pants.

“A pity.” The boredom returned to her tone, the ice on the bars melting. “Roke hoped you would do this the easy way.”

Sally blinked in confusion. “What?”

“He was . . .” The woman pretended to consider her words. “Displeased when he awoke to discover that we’d treated you so roughly. He was the one to suggest we try to touch your soft heart to convince you to break the bond. He said it would be far more effective than actual torture.”

“No.” Sally gave a violent shake of her head, but deep inside a shard of doubt pierced her heart. “He wouldn’t.”

The vampire’s laugh filled the air, grating against Sally’s exposed nerves.

“It doesn’t matter. If you won’t do it the easy way, there’s always the hard way. My personal favorite.” Blowing Sally a mocking kiss, the woman turned on her heel and headed back out the tunnel. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Feeling numb from the emotional beating, Sally sank to her knees and began demolishing the food. She didn’t know what she was putting in her mouth, and she didn’t care.

All that mattered was regaining her strength.

If the female vampire was telling the truth, then she had no one to depend on but herself to escape her latest prison.

Nothing new in that.

She’d been caged, beaten, and betrayed more than once over the years and managed to survive.

She would survive this.

Pretending she didn’t notice the tears streaming down her face or the tiny tremors that shook her body, Sally stoically polished off the roast beef, potatoes, bread, and large glass of milk.

She had to concentrate on regaining her strength and escaping.

Anything else would break her.

Shoving the tray away, Sally slowly rose to her feet, the faint scent of granite replacing the chilled stench of female vampire.

“Hello?” she called, jumping backward as a shape suddenly fell from a small hole in the ceiling. “Levet?”

With a violent shake, the tiny gargoyle sent a cloud of dust flying through the air. Then, with a flick of his wings, he was waddling forward, his expression concerned.

“Ma cherie? Are you hurt?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She grasped the bars of the cell, her heart pounding. “Get me out of here.”

“I intend to,” Levet assured her, studying the lock on the door with a growing frown. “But the security is formidable.”

Of course it was.

Trust Roke to have a prison that was as stubborn and tenacious as he was.

“Can you get me out?”

The gargoyle wrinkled his snout. “Not without assistance.”

“Shit.”

Reaching through the bars, Levet gave her leg a comforting pat.

“Do not give up. I will return with the chivalry.”

“Chivalry?” Sally frowned as the tiny gargoyle gave a flap of his wings and disappeared into the narrow opening in the ceiling. “Oh . . . the cavalry,” she muttered, moving to collapse on the edge of the bed.

She wasn’t going to depend on the gargoyle to rescue her.

She wasn’t going to depend on anyone. Ever again.

But, she had to have a few minutes for the food to kick her metabolism into gear.

After that . . . she was getting out of there.

Even if she had to use her magic to destroy everything around her.

Roke was having a nightmare.

He was trapped in his lair, unable to reach his mate who was in danger. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there was something banging against his cheek. It was driving him nuts.

“Wake up,” an insistent voice yelled in his ear, at last jerking him out of the clinging darkness.

With a groan he forced his eyes open, grimacing at the sight of the ugly little mug only inches from his face.

“Slap me one more time, gargoyle, and I’ll turn you into a bowling ball,” he growled.

“And how will you do that?” Levet taunted, ceasing his slaps although he remained far too close. “You are trussed up like a Christmas goose.” The gray eyes widened. “Sacrebleu. I said that right, did I not?”

“Get out of my face,” Roke growled, waiting for the creature to take a step away from the bed before he continued. “How did you get here?”

Levet sniffed, his wings glittering in the candlelight. “Once again I was poofed against my will.” He frowned, scratching a stunted horn. “Do you think that’s illegal? I should lodge a complaint. Of course, it was an Oracle—”

“Enough.” Roke cursed himself for even asking the question. Who the hell cared how he got there? Nothing mattered but getting to Sally. “Just get the chain off me.”

The gargoyle pointed a claw in his direction. “Only if you promise you will release Sally from that hideous cell.”

“You’ve seen her?” Roke rasped, desperate for information about his missing mate.

“Unfortunately.”

“What have they done to her?”

“There was blood in the cell so obviously she’s been beaten, but I believe it is her mental state that has taken the greatest damage.” Levet studied him as if he were something that had crawled out of the gutter. “How did you allow this to happen?”

Roke clenched his teeth against the agonizing thought of Sally scared and alone in a dark cell while his people tried their best to break her.

He would never, ever forgive himself.

Not that he was about to admit his seething guilt to the tiny gargoyle.

He had to remain in command if he was to rescue Sally.

“Clearly I didn’t allow anything,” he snapped.

Levet sniffed. “They are your clan members.”

“Trust me, I intend to deal with my people, but first we have to get to Sally,” he snarled. “Now release me.”

Waddling forward, the gargoyle easily unraveled the chain that had so effectively held Roke prisoner, scurrying backward as Roke surged off the bed and headed toward a heavy armoire at the back of the room.

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