Burned by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,25

decide your fate.”

The soldier gave a deep bow. “Yes, my lord.”

Unwilling to waste any more time on the traitor, Baine left the throne room. He would send one of his guards to escort the male to the dungeons.

He had a more important task that needed his personal attention.

The sooner it was done, the sooner he could return to Tayla.

###

Levet knew that most people thought that he was as flighty and unpredictable as a dew fairy. It didn’t bother him. Who wanted to be a boring old demon who was obsessed with responsibility?

Life was meant to be fun.

But there were occasions when he could be as tenacious as a pure-blooded Were on the hunt.

Which was why he’d devoted the past four nights to searching every seedy safe house that catered to demons who preferred to remain off the radar.

Tonight he was in a dark, miserably damp street in London. This particular establishment tended to cater to vampires, but he was running out of places to search. And worse, the wood sprite he’d hired to create portals for his travels was becoming increasingly drunk on the nectar that Levet had offered as payment for his services. If the idiot passed out, Levet needed to be someplace where he could spend the day in a secure location.

Thankfully, he was BFFs with the current vampire clan chief of London. He was certain Victor would be happy to have him as a guest.

Okay, maybe not happy, he grudgingly conceded. But Victor’s beautiful mate, Juliet, would insist he be allowed into their lair.

Leaving the drunken sprite seated beneath a lamppost, Levet headed down the steps that led to the cellar beneath the silent pub. Then, stepping into the large room with wood plank floors and a low, open-beamed ceiling, he glanced toward the shadowed booths that lined the walls.

He barely noticed the pathetic humans who were hidden in the shadows, their eyes glazed with drugs and their thin bodies stripped down to reveal whatever unmarred skin they still possessed. If they wanted to be a midnight snack for a vampire, that was their business.

He waddled toward the back of the room, where a male imp was wiping down the long bar. Then, with a flap of his wings, he lifted himself off the ground to perch on one of the empty stools.

Glancing in Levet’s direction, the imp twisted his handsome features into a predictable sneer. With his long golden hair pulled from his narrow face and his slender body encased in skin-tight leather, he was as beautiful as most fey, but there was a nasty glint in his green eyes.

“Whadda you want?”

Levet leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “I’m searching for an imp.”

“No imps, but I have a fairy who will rock your world.” The man nodded toward a narrow door carved into the paneling. “Two hundred bucks plus tips.”

Levet quivered with outrage. “Do I appear to need to purchase my females?”

“Hell yeah.” The green eyes flicked over him with blatant disgust, a sudden greed glinting in the emerald depths. “In fact, I’m gonna have to charge you double.”

The imp was clearly demented, Levet decided. That was the only explanation for his inability to see that he was a chicken magnet. Or was it chick magnet?

Whatever.

“Mon dieu,” Levet muttered, forced to point out the obvious. “I am the world-famous Levet. Women adore me.”

“Yeah, right,” the imp mocked. “Sunny will adore you for four hundred dollars plus tips.”

Levet made a sound of annoyance. Arguing with the idiot was clearly a waste of his time.

“The imp I seek is a male.”

“Ah, why didn’t you say so?” the barkeep shrugged. “I have that flavor as well.”

“Fah.” Enough was enough. With a flap of his wings, Levet was leaping off the stool and making his way toward the arched doorway that led into the private rooms.

“Hey.” The imp was in immediate pursuit. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I need to search your fine establishment,” Levet informed him.

“You can’t do that.” Moving to stand directly in Levet’s path, the imp released a shrill scream when Levet gave a wave of his hand and set the buffoon’s hair on fire. “Holy shit,” he wailed, rushing toward the sink behind the bar to douse his smoldering curls.

“Do you wish to have another taste of my mighty magic?” Levet demanded when the imp at last straightened to glare at him.

He paled, flinching as Levet raised his hand, sparks dancing off his claws.

“No.”

“A wise choice.”

Strolling out of the room, Levet waited until