beside the stone, their hands held toward the shimmer in the air as they chanted in low tones.
Elwin’s anger tinted the air with a warm scent of herbs, but it was no match for the brutal chill of Styx’s power.
“You son of a bitch,” the Sylvermyst muttered.
A low chuckle announced the arrival of Salvatore, who managed to look GQ ready in his black Armani suit and pale blue shirt with a yellow silk tie.
Styx shook his head.
How did the damned dog manage to remain pristine when climbing through the rubble? There wasn’t so much as a speck of dirt on the handmade Italian leather shoes.
It was ... unnatural.
“Trouble in paradise?” the dog mocked.
Styx shrugged, biting back his sarcastic comment.
Behind Salvatore’s taunting smile was a haunting memory of his near-death experience in the caves. He understood the toll it was taking on the Were to help in the search for the child, and of course, Jaelyn.
And while he might never admit his gratitude (it just wasn’t done between natural enemies) it wouldn’t be forgotten.
Instead he nodded toward the glowering Elwin.
“Just trying to make certain that the Sylvermysts are giving a hundred percent to the effort to reach Jaelyn.”
“Vampires,” Elwin cursed.
Salvatore raised his hands. “Hey, you have my full sympathy.”
The fey pointed a finger in Styx’s face. “Don’t interrupt our efforts again.”
With his warning delivered, Elwin turned on his heel and returned to kneel next to his brothers, completely indifferent to the fact that Styx could rip off his head with one hand.
“I miss the days when I could just kill those people who pissed me off,” Styx snarled.
“Being king is a bitch, isn’t it?”
Never had truer words been spoken.
“What about you?” Styx turned his attention from the fey. Even if they were doing everything possible it was obvious their efforts weren’t going to pay off anytime soon. He needed a plan B. “Any luck?”
“None.” The Were grimaced, his hand smoothing over the dark hair that was pulled into a tail at his nape. Styx hid a wry smile at the dog’s vanity. “I spoke with the local coven and they denied knowing any spell that could open the barrier between dimensions.”
“I don’t believe it,” he said bluntly. “The wizard obviously used magic to take the child through.”
Salvatore shrugged. “The wizard practiced dark magic.”
“Then we need a magic-user who practices the dark arts.”
“Easier said than done,” the Were confessed. “They tend to remain hidden in the shadows.”
Well, of course they did.
“Dammit.”
Salvatore regarded him with a questioning expression. “What about Laylah?”
Styx arched a brow. “What about her?”
“Jinn can travel between worlds.”
“She’s a half Jinn,” he reminded his companion. “Which means she can only shadow walk.”
“Shadow walk?”
“She can enter the mists between dimensions.”
Not surprisingly Salvatore appeared confused by his reluctance to call for the half Jinn. But while it had been one of his first thoughts after discovering that Jaelyn and the child were missing, he’d quickly dismissed it.
“It would be a start,” Salvatore pointed out.
“I can’t expose her to the Dark Lord,” he refused. “And more to the point, Tane would never allow her to take such a risk.”
The Were snorted. “And she actually listens to her mate? He’s a lucky vampire.”
“No, Laylah has a mind of her own, but she has devoted years to protecting her child from the Dark Lord.” He shook his head. “She can’t take the chance of being used to get to Maluhia.”
Salvatore gave a grudging nod of agreement at the mention of the child that had once been wrapped in the same stasis spell with the missing baby. The twins had been created by the Dark Lord centuries ago and hidden in the mists, only to be found by Laylah.
It was bad enough to have lost one child.
They couldn’t risk the other.
“Then I guess we have to hope the Sylvermysts can reach them.”
Styx’s fangs ached with the need to sink them into Elwin’s throat, but he couldn’t deny the truth of Salvatore’s words.
A rock and a hard place.
Dammit.
“Yes.”
Resuming his pacing, Styx was futilely attempting to remind himself of the virtues of patience when he detected the familiar scent of his brother, along with a less familiar odor.
Mage.
With a new flare of hope, Styx turned to watch as Dante strolled into the cavern.
The younger vampire’s resemblance to a pirate was emphasized by the dark hair that was left free to frame his lean, handsome face and the silver eyes that danced with humor. Oh, and the wiggling prisoner he had slung over his shoulder.
Crossing the cavern, the vampire