intended to travel from world to world. Not unless they happened to be ancient Immortal Ones.
But she did know enough to realize that this wasn’t typical.
In fact, she would guess that they were standing in the strange place between dimensions, not actually in one or the other.
Not the most comforting thought.
And it was becoming even less comforting as she caught the distinct scent of the wizard in the distance.
“We aren’t alone,” she breathed softly, uncertain how sound would travel in the mists.
Everything seemed ... muffled, but she wasn’t going to take unnecessary risks.
“Where?” Ariyal demanded, his voice equally low.
She hesitated, struggling to get her bearings before at last pointing to a spot over his shoulder.
“That way.”
Ariyal didn’t hesitate, turning to flow through the mists in the direction she’d indicated. Following in his wake, Jaelyn felt warmth spread through her heart at his absolute faith in her abilities.
That trust was as precious to her as his unconditional love.
They moved in silence, the strange mist swirling around them.
Or at least she assumed they were moving, she acknowledged with a grimace.
Their feet were stepping forward.
And there was a faint breeze she could see stirring the loose fabric of Ariyal’s shirt.
But the landscape remained shrouded behind a fog that made it impossible to determine if they were making progress or running in place.
Refusing to consider the horrifying thought that they might be eternally trapped in the smothering mist, Jaelyn forced herself to latch on to her strengthening awareness of Rafael. Moving or not, they were growing ever closer to the wizard.
Which had to be a good sign, didn’t it?
“He’s near,” she warned softly.
Ariyal slowed, his sword held ready. “Can you tell if he has the child?”
She shook her head. “No. If the babe is here it’s still wrapped in the spell that prevents me from being able to track it.”
Ariyal’s lips parted, but before he could speak, a form abruptly appeared out of the fog, standing directly in their path.
Tearloch.
No, not Tearloch, she silently corrected, catching sight of the Sylvermyst’s eyes.
The beautiful silver had been consumed by a crimson that smoldered like the fiery pits of hell. A sure sign that he had become a mere puppet to a powerful being.
Her nose wrinkled. Even his scent had been overwhelmed by the acrid stench of brimstone that made Jaelyn’s stomach churn in revulsion.
Without expression he held up his hand in warning. “Stop.”
Ariyal studied his tribesman with a wary frown. “Tearloch ?”
“You may go no farther.”
“Tearloch, can you hear me?” Ariyal took a step forward. “Brother?”
The Sylvermyst didn’t respond. Hell, he might as well have been a lamppost for all the reaction he gave to Ariyal’s plea.
Not that he it made him any less dangerous.
Jaelyn reached to lightly touch her mate’s arm. “He’s completely enthralled. Could the wizard do this?”
“Not without help. Only the Dark Lord could so completely crush his mind.”
It was the answer she’d expected, but that didn’t prevent the sharp stab of unease.
Who wouldn’t be a little antsy at the thought of the ultimate evil creeping around in the fog?
“Great.” She swallowed a curse as she sensed the wizard moving deeper into the mists. She couldn’t allow him to escape. Who knew if she’d ever be able to track him in the damned fog if she lost his scent? “Can you keep him distracted ?”
The bronzed eyes shimmered with frustration as he glanced in her direction.
“Jaelyn.”
She sent him a warning frown. They didn’t have time to squabble over whether she was going to put herself in danger or not.
“Can you do it or not?”
“Yes,” he grudgingly conceded. “Just don’t ...”
“Do anything stupid.” She finished for him, reaching up to steal a swift, possessive kiss. “Ditto.”
“Ditto?”
Stepping back, Jaelyn pointed toward the motionless Tearloch.
“Right now he’s your enemy, not your brother,” she reminded him. “Don’t let yourself be fooled into feeling pity for him.”
Ariyal grimaced, but there was a grim determination etched onto his beautiful face.
“I’ll do what I have to do.”
She felt his bleak regret as he leaped forward, his sword slashing through the air directly at Tearloch’s vulnerable throat.
Mindlessly Tearloch met the strike with his own sword, fighting back with an obvious skill.
Jaelyn forced herself to ignore the instinct to join in the battle and plunged into the surrounding fog. She demanded that Ariyal trust her ability to take care of herself. How could she offer him any less?
Even if leaving did suck.
Big time.
The ringing of steel on steel began to dim behind her as she moved steadily through the white landscape. Dammit.