pressing her into the nearby mattress as his mouth sought those erogenous spots she tried to pretend didn’t exist.
Worse, she couldn’t deny the realization that she was disappointed. . . disappointed ... that he didn’t intend to trade the use of her body in exchange for her freedom.
Lord, she needed to get away from this man.
The sooner the better.
“Then what do you want?”
His gaze returned to clash with her icy glare. “Your skills as a Hunter.”
“As a Hunter?”
He shrugged. “To be more specific, as a tracker.”
She wasn’t insulted.
What did she care if he was more interested in her warrior training than her female charms?
To be actually wanted as a woman ...
That was madness.
Insanity.
Yeah. That’s what it was.
“You want me to find Tearloch?” she demanded between clenched teeth.
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of prince?” she mocked.
A startling hint of pain briefly flared in the bronzed eyes.
“I am.”
“Then shouldn’t you have the skills to hunt down one of your own minions?”
With a restless shrug, Ariyal turned to pace across the mosaic tiled floor, his fluid grace a reminder that beneath his taunting manner was a lethal predator. One of the very few who could match her for strength and cunning.
He reached the priceless tapestry that covered the far wall, his gaze momentarily resting on the stitched vision of Morgana le Fey mounted on a horse as she led an army of fey into some long-forgotten war, before he turned to stab her with a frown.
“It wouldn’t be a problem if it was just Tearloch I had to worry about,” he muttered. “Unfortunately he’s the least of my problems.”
Jaelyn recalled the moments in the frozen cave before Ariyal’s tribesman had made his unexpected appearance.
At the time, Laylah (a Jinn mongrel) had been busy killing Marika (the psychotic vampire who intended to become mother or perhaps it had been a creepy queen consort to the Dark Lord once he was reborn), while Marika’s pet mage, Sergei, had been removing the stasis spell that had been wrapped around the child Laylah had discovered hidden between dimensions. His efforts had revealed that there wasn’t one babe, but two. A boy and girl.
It was no big surprise that in the middle of the confusion Tearloch would manage to capture the mage who had been clutching the female child and disappear with him through a portal before he could be stopped.
“You mean his companion?” she asked with a curl of her lip. She hated mages. Nasty vermin. “Vampires are incapable of sensing magic. If Sergei is hiding your tribesman I would be worse than useless in trying to track him.”
Ariyal waved a dismissive hand. “If they’re still together I know precisely where to find Sergei. I was with Marika long enough to become familiar with her devoted mage. He’s nothing if not predictable.”
Annoyance pricked her heart at the reminder that Ariyal had once offered his loyalty to the beautiful vampire who was infamous for her insatiable lust.
Had he offered anything beyond his loyalty?
And why the hell did it matter?
“Then what do you need from me?” she snapped.
“I’m a Sylvermyst.”
“Yeah, I got the memo.”
His brow arched at her foul temper. “Did the memo also include the fact that I’m not the most popular demon on the block?”
“I figured that out all on my own.” She bared her fangs. “Did you want me to kill you and put you out of your misery?”
He prowled back toward her, halting just out of reach.
Clever fairy.
“Actually, poppet, I want you to keep me alive.”
Ariyal watched as Jaelyn narrowed her eyes in genuine confusion.
“You said nothing could find us here,” she reminded him, her eyes closing as she no doubt used her Hunter senses to search through the vast, broken palace and across the large island. She muttered a curse, wrenching open her eyes, and Ariyal easily guessed that the swirling mists were screwing with her powers. They were a genuine pain in the ass. “Is there an enemy on the island?”
He sucked in a deep breath, his body instantly hardening at the biting scent of female power. A shudder raced through him. What was it about this female?
She had the tongue of a viper, the temper of a pregnant harpy, and worst of all, she was a damned leech.
But there was no denying that she set him on fire.
“No, we’re completely alone,” he said, reluctantly shoving aside the vivid fantasies that threatened to derail his plans for the day. “But as much as I might like to stay here and play,