Blackness surrounded her and Jaelyn knew that she was being magically transported to another location, but she could sense nothing. And that was worse than if she was being tortured by a horde of Copaka demons.
At last she was jerked from the strange nothingness and, falling forward, she barely got her hands stretched out before she did a face-plant.
She felt the skin being ripped off her palms as she hit the damp pavement, but as she rose to her feet she was far more concerned with the knowledge that she’d just been dumped into the middle of London. And that she wasn’t alone.
Baring her fangs she whirled to study the narrow street that was shrouded in shadows.
It was just past midnight, she easily determined, and most of the humans were safely tucked in the expensive townhouses that lined the road. In the distance she could sense a park with dew fairies dancing among the trees, and a handful of hellhounds sniffing along the Thames River, but it was the thick scent of herbs that had her bracing herself for the slender male form that barreled from behind a hedge to knock her back to the ground.
Unable to rip out his heart or suck him dry, Jaelyn was forced to allow the damned Sylvermyst to cover her with his hard body, a large silver dagger pressed to her throat.
At least that’s what she told her battered pride.
Perched above her, Ariyal’s bronzed eyes widened in shock. Then a wicked amusement suddenly shimmered in the streetlights.
“Jaelyn?”
“This job is really starting to piss me off.”
Chapter 4
Ariyal didn’t believe in Santa Claus.
If a fat man in a red suit snuck into his lair he would slice off the bastard’s head.
But he had to assume there was some magic involved in beautiful vampires appearing out of thin air.
Especially when it was this particular beautiful vampire.
That was a gift any man could appreciate.
For a crazed moment, he simply savored the sensation of her slim body pressed beneath him. God, it had been so long since he’d felt genuine desire.
Not since Morgana le Bitch had taken him into her harem.
Now his body was determined to make up for lost time.
Still, for all his rampaging desire, he wasn’t so lost to reason that he didn’t recall this female posed an extreme danger to him.
“How the hell did you get here?” he growled, keeping the knife poised near her throat even as he made certain it didn’t mar the perfection of her alabaster skin.
Her hands pressed against his chest, but she made no attempt to kill him.
Progress.
“Get off me, you ass,” she hissed.
“Not until I’m certain you don’t intend to alert all of London to our presence.”
Something that might have been embarrassment at her less than graceful entrance rippled over her starkly beautiful face before she was glaring at him in outrage.
“Don’t blame me. It was your little spirit who dumped me here.”
“Spirit?”
“Yannah.”
He scowled. He had occasionally conjured a spirit who went by the name of Yannah, but she wouldn’t be able to enter Avalon. And certainly she couldn’t have brought Jaelyn to London.