she could sense the beats of Ariyal’s heart. And more than that ... the basic essence that made him the man that she loved.
His ruthless loyalty, his strength, and his ability to love without conditions or judgment.
“Yes,” she said, pressing against him as the mist wrapped them in a shimmer of light. “Mine.”
He wrapped his arms around her, his face buried in her hair.
“Mine.”
Behind the Veil
It was like a building out of ancient Greece.
Lots of fluted columns, arched windows, and carved friezes.
Not that Santiago was in the mood to appreciate the vaulted marble chamber that surrounded him, or the mosaic tiled floors, or even the thick hush that filled the ancient air, stirred only by rush of scurrying servants.
His entire body quivered from the unpleasant experience of being pulled through the Veil.
Dios.
For a few seconds he’d feared he might actually be ripped in two as he’d briefly hovered between two separate worlds. And then there had been the painful prickles of electricity that had nearly flayed the skin from his body.
It had lasted less than a few seconds, but it had been enough to convince him that it couldn’t be the normal passage. Who the hell would ever travel to this place if it threatened to eviscerate them?
Pushing away from the gold-veined marble wall that had been keeping him upright, he glared at the female who stood in the center of the corridor.
“You did that on purpose,” he growled, as annoyed by the sight of her perfection as by the lingering weakness in his knees.
The raven hair flowed smoothly down her back, framing her exquisite, icily composed face. Her robes were unwrinkled, without a speck of dust. And her slender hand was infuriatingly steady as it stroked over the large medallion lying just over her unbeating heart.
Worse, he suspected there was a hint of amusement in the dark eyes as she regarded him with a faux air of innocence.
“Did what?”
“Yanking me through the Veil like I was a barnacle you were hoping to scrape off,” he snapped, his hand instinctively reaching to make sure his sword was safely stowed in the scabbard angled down his back.
She shrugged. “You were in no danger, I assure you.”
“No danger? I was nearly fried.”
Her dark brows lifted as his words bounced eerily among the forest of columns.
“Is anything hurt beyond your pride?”
“Do you care?”
“I will take that as a no.”
With a faint smile she crossed toward the nearest doorway, moving down the long corridor. Still seething, Santiago followed in her wake, barely noticing the occasional glimpses of vampires moving through the columns, or the doorways leading to libraries, antechambers, and a dozen other rooms, which they passed at a rapid pace.
He’d heard rumors of what was beyond the Veil.
Glorious buildings constructed by the finest artists all shrouded by constant night. An endless countryside that remained untainted by humans. Or even demons. Gardens that bloomed with flowers that had no need of the sun.
And no doubt the roads were made of gold and the rivers ran with honey, he silently mocked.
A regular Garden of Eden.
Without the serpent.
Or was it?
The same rumors he’d heard regarding the beauty of this world also hinted that while the vampires lived in peace, they had maintained ancient powers that had been lost to his brothers.
Shape-shifting, mist walking ... mind control over lesser vampires.
And now one of them might be determined to unleash hell on his world.
“You are being frighteningly quiet.” Nefri at last broke the silence, halting to study him with blatant suspicion.
A humorless smile curved his lips. “Just taking in the magnificent sight of Shangri-la.”
“This is my home, not a fabled paradise.”
He grimaced. Home? It felt like a mausoleum.
“You have a real thing for marble, don’t you?”
She tilted her chin to a proud angle. “I enjoy beauty.”
Santiago stepped toward her, oddly annoyed by the sight of her standing there, so aloof and untouchable she didn’t appear quite real.
“Cold perfection?” he taunted.
“I beg your pardon?”
He was moving before his brain could remind him just how stupid it was to provoke a vampire who was not only stronger than him, but whose own territory he was standing in.
While he was very much the outsider.
“True beauty should be untamed, even flawed,” he growled, one hand grasping her upper arm as the other lightly circled her slender neck, his thumb stroking the cool satin of her skin. “It should entice and entangle the senses.”
The dark eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
Now that was a good question.
A fan-fucking-tastic question.
“You had your fun” was his