his mangled lips.
“Really?” She kicked him away, shuddering at the tiny tremors of pain that continued to torment her. “Where’s your Dark Lord now, wizard?”
His eerie laugh was swallowed by the fog. “I will serve him even in death.”
“Yeah, yeah ...” Struggling against the urge to collapse, Jaelyn shoved the gun back into its holster and waited while the wizard slowly died. Serve him in death. What a load of ... “Crap,” she hissed, belatedly realizing that the human blood she’d just minutes ago considered a miracle was now flowing in small rivulets directly toward the child.
Like an idiot she leaped forward, trying to halt the flow of blood, or at least to divert it away from the babe.
A wasted effort.
The blood continued its unwavering path, as if directly being controlled by the child.
And perhaps it was, she was forced to accept, meeting the steady blue gaze that held a disturbing cunning.
Damn.
What to do, what to do.
The thought of leaving the baby behind was unthinkable.
If the Dark Lord managed to resurrect himself then none of the worlds would be safe from the hell he would unleash.
But even as she moved to pick up the child the fog began to thicken around the tiny body, obscuring it from her view.
She tried to battle her way past the flimsy barrier, but it was like treading water, a lot of flailing around without getting anywhere. Muttering in frustration she circled the spot, the hair on the nape of her neck standing on end at the electric pulses of energy she could feel coming from the fog.
Something was happening.
Something very, very big.
And with the way her luck was running, it was also very, very bad.
Which meant that it was time to go.
Backing away, she kept her gaze trained on the wall of mist, nearly stumbling over the swiftly rotting carcass of the wizard. With a shiver she leaped to the side, her attention briefly distracted.
As she skirted around the body a silvery laugh danced on the air and Jaelyn snapped her head up to discover a slender young woman standing just a few feet away.
She was a beautiful creature with long, dark hair that spilled over her naked skin, which was tinted a rich honey. Jaelyn guessed she was seventeen in human years with a pair of disarming dimples and wide blue eyes that were alarmingly familiar.
Eyes that she’d seen mere minutes ago in the face of a baby.
The Dark Lord.
In the flesh.
Quite literally.
Seemingly pleased by Jaelyn’s gaping horror, the female held out her hand in a coaxing gesture.
“Jaelyn,” she purred, her voice a potent weapon that nearly sent Jaelyn to her knees. “Sweet vampire, join with me and I will fulfill your every desire.”
The urge to move forward and clutch that offered hand beat through her with merciless insistence. Her foot had even taken a treacherous step forward as she frantically fought for the strength to break free of the Dark Lord’s compulsion.
It was at last her bond with Ariyal that saved her from certain enslavement.
Clinging with a fierce desperation to the feel of his presence buried in her heart, she conjured the image of his lean face and stunningly beautiful bronze eyes to distract her mind.
Suddenly she was filled with his essence, the scent of warm herbs almost tangible in the air.
A faint frown touched the creature’s exquisite face as she sensed her hold on Jaelyn slipping away.
“Vampire, I command you to come to me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Hell no.”
Spinning on her heel, Jaelyn took off through the fog as if the devil was nipping at her heels.
And she was.
Behind the Veil
If Santiago was foolish enough to believe he had won the battle, Nefri swiftly disabused him of the fantasy.
While she willingly led him to the hallowed halls of the Great Council room, she had refused to allow him to enter.
He grimaced, pacing the marble hallway with a growing impatience.
It had been worse than a refusal.
She had walked into the massive room, with its glowing chandeliers and long ebony table surrounded by a dozen pompous-looking pricks he assumed were the Elders, and rudely slammed the door in his face.
Locked out, Santiago had been left to twiddle his thumbs.
And to curse the powerful female vampire who was rapidly becoming his personal nemesis.
A most beautiful nemesis, a renegade voice whispered in the back of his mind.
And sexy as hell despite her aloof, can’t-touch-me demeanor.
Or perhaps that’s what he found so enticing.
What predator didn’t like the thought of hunting his prey? The more elusive