She ground her teeth. “Not helping.”
He made a resigned bid for patience. “Victor is clan chief of London. We will need his permission if you intend to remain more than a few hours.”
She grimaced. The last thing she wanted was more vampires. One was enough, thank you very much.
“What we need is a witch who is willing to sell us an amulet to hide our scents,” she countered.
Expecting an argument, she was caught off guard when he shrugged.
“Yet another reason to approach Victor.”
“He has a witch on the payroll?”
“Actually he mated one.”
“Seriously?” She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. Magic was the one power a vampire had no defense against. They couldn’t even sense a spell until too late. As a result they possessed a pathological hatred for both witches and mages. “A witch and a vampire? Isn’t that illegal or something?”
“Or something,” he said dryly, his own thoughts of a vampire taking a witch as a mate carefully hidden. No doubt a wise precaution. “Actually, Juliet is half witch and half imp, with a rare talent that allows her to sense magical artifacts. If anyone has a spare disguise amulet lying around it will be her.”
“And that’s the only reason you brought me here?” she demanded, concentrating on her tenuous awareness of Tane in an attempt to impose her will. “The truth.”
“I’ve heard rumors that Victor had a brief encounter with a Jinn.”
His brooding expression made it impossible to know if he was being coerced to speak the truth or merely playing along.
“Recently?”
“I suppose that’s a matter of perspective.”
Her brows snapped together. “Tane.” “A few hundred years ago.” “What happened?”
He folded his arms over his bare chest, making his muscles ripple beneath his golden skin. “That’s his story to tell.”
She turned away from his compelling beauty as she considered her options. Or lack of options.
If Victor had the information she desired, what choice did she have but to approach him? Even if it meant bearding the lion in his den, so to speak.
Besides, Tane was right, may his aggravating soul rot in hell.
Without protection she would soon be at the mercy of every demon in London who wanted to make brownie points with the Commission by turning over a rogue mongrel.
“And you swear you aren’t using the vampires to break my binding?” she demanded.
“I swear.” He pressed a hand to that gorgeous chest. Laylah swallowed a groan. She was terrified and weary and covered in filth, but a liquid heat raced through her at the thought of kissing and nibbling and licking her way down the smooth golden skin until she reached the waistband of his khakis and the … “Laylah.”
Tane’s rough growl jerked her head up to meet his smoldering gaze, a blush staining her cheeks at the sight of his extended fangs and rigid expression as he battled his savage reaction to her arousal.
“Fine, let’s go,” she muttered.
His jaw clenched, his urge to go caveman a tangible force in the air. Then, with grim effort he whirled around and led her through the darkness.
Laylah followed in silence, pissed off by her lingering awareness. Not that her panting eagerness was a shocker. She’d spent the majority of her life on a small farm in the remote outback of Australia before being captured by the mage and hidden in Siberia. After Caine had rescued her, she had the baby to consider, which meant she remained all but a hermit, no matter where they traveled.
Male demons had been few and far between. And those of the tall, dark, and orgasmic sort had been all but nonexistent.
Was it any wonder her hormones were charged into hyperdrive?
They had traveled only a few miles when Tane slowed to a mere crawl, glancing over his shoulder. “Wait here,” he commanded.