his attention to Sergei. “But I warn you, mage, don’t screw with me.”
“Release me and I’ll ... arrg.” The mage’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets as Ariyal tightened his grip. “Okay. From what I managed to learn from Marika, a Hunter’s primary skill is the ability to shroud themselves in shadows so thick they’re virtually invisible.” Sergei held up a pleading hand as Ariyal’s fingers threatened to finish the job of crushing his throat. “Those same shadows also protect them from the sun for short periods of time.”
Her shadows ...
Of course.
“How short?” he breathed.
“A few minutes.”
“Long enough for her to have escaped,” Levet said, a grin spreading over his ugly face. “I told you she was still alive. Ariyal?”
Ariyal was already at the door, hesitating only long enough to point a finger at the mage, who was now crumpled on the floor, gasping like a fish out of water.
“Keep an eye on Sergei.”
“But ...”
He vaguely heard the gargoyle call out, but Ariyal was already crossing the crumbling parking lot and headed back toward the caves.
Jaelyn.
The desperate hope that had kept him from raving insanity became a raw, throbbing need.
He had to find her.
He had to hold her in his arms until there was no doubt left inside him that she was alive and well.
And then he was going shake her until her fangs rattled for putting him through hell.
Intent on returning to the caves, Ariyal very nearly missed the sharp chill that edged the breeze. It was only when the familiar scent of power and pure woman teased at his senses that he came to an abrupt halt.
There was no mistaking the approaching vampire was Jaelyn.
But why was she coming from behind him?
Had she been near the warehouse? Or farther into the city?
And if so, why?
His confusion was forgotten as he turned to watch the shadows melt away and the female who had somehow become an essential part of his life was revealed in the moonlight.
An explosion of emotions nearly brought him to his knees as he greedily drank in the beauty of her pale face and the elegant strength of her body.
If he had lost her ...
She took a step forward, and with a low growl he was reaching to yank her against his body, his arms wrapping around her so tightly it was a good thing she didn’t need to breathe.
“Jaelyn,” he murmured, reveling in the feel of her slender body pressed against him. “Gods. I thought ...”
She framed his face in her hands, her eyes flashing with an indigo fire.
“Shut up and kiss me, fairy.”
“Bossy leech,” he muttered, even as he seized her lips in a kiss that revealed the terror he had endured. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
She pulled back far enough to glare at him. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“All I could find was the spot of your portal mixed with the scent of Levet and Sergei,” she accused. “I was afraid that you’d been taken hostage.”
He stiffened, unable to believe he heard her correctly. “You believed I could be taken captive by a damned mage?”
Her lips twitched as she belatedly realized the depth of her insult.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
He nipped her bottom lip. “Obviously not.”
“So what were you doing with Sergei?”
Ariyal was in no mood to discuss the mage. Or their near-death experiences. Or the end of the world.
“Later,” he promised, scooping Jaelyn off her feet and heading back to the abandoned farmhouse where they’d spent a few memorable hours. There he could be assured there was a cellar deep enough to keep Jaelyn safe from the approaching dawn.
Astonishingly, Jaelyn allowed herself to be carried through the darkness without hitting or biting or even complaining at his arrogant behavior.
Not that he was fooled by her momentary compliance.
Jaelyn was about as submissive as a rabid lion.
But busy nuzzling the tender skin of his throat and rubbing her hands down the clenched muscles of his back, she appeared suitably occupied as he at last reached the remote farm and charged into the empty house.
Just for a second he hesitated, torn between his overriding need to make certain that Jaelyn was safely tucked in the cellar and the urge to spend the next two hours that remained of the night making love to her in the comfort of a bed.
It was the light scrape of her fangs down his neck that sent him catapulting up the stairs and into the master bedroom, where a dusty, but thankfully sturdy, four-poster bed was waiting.
They would have the entire