Burned by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,50

iron, some silver, and one was made out of pure stone. Obviously her captor liked to be prepared for whatever species of demon he might feel in the mood to lock up.

Following the scent of figs, she came to a halt at the last door that was made of iron.

Instantly she could hear the sound of her father’s desperate voice.

“Hello. Can you hear me? I’m trapped.” There was pounding on the opposite side of the door. “I know there’s someone out there. Help me and I can pay you,” Odel lowered his voice, no doubt hoping to wheedle a deal with the guards. “I have money. Jewels. Anything you want.”

Char made a sound of disgust. “He’s very noisy,” he complained. “I could remove his tongue.”

“No,” Tayla retorted, fairly certain that the dragon wasn’t teasing.

Levet waddled to stand at her side. “Are you certain, ma belle? The dragon has a point.”

She scowled down at her companion. “No.”

Levet gave a flap of his wings, glancing toward Char. “I tried.”

There was more banging on the door. “Who’s there?” her father demanded. “Tayla? My sweet Tay-Tay, is that you?”

Tayla stiffened. Once upon a time her father’s nickname for her would have warmed her heart. It didn’t matter that he was constantly on the run, or that they never had money, or that he often forgot her for days on end. She’d told herself that as long as they were together, they were a family.

Now there was a stark emptiness in the center of her heart.

Stepping forward, she spoke directly through the tiny slot carved into the door. She assumed it was there so a guard could keep a constant watch on the prisoner if necessary.

“I’m here, father,” she assured the older imp.

“Oh, thank the gods.” Odel gave a rough sob. Despite his habit of flaunting the law, and gambling away money he didn’t have, her father was terrified of confined places. Perhaps because he was often threatened with being locked in a room and having the key thrown away. “I knew you would come for me.”

Tayla grimaced, glancing toward the dragon standing in the center of the tunnel, his stormy eyes searching for any hint of trouble.

“Can you open the door?” she asked.

Char turned to study her with a frown, looking as if he wanted to refuse her request. Then, seeing the grim determination that was etched on her face, he threw his hands up in resignation.

“Yes, I can open the damned door,” he growled. With gentle care he tugged her to the side, before shouting at her father. “Stand back, you idiot.” Lifting his leg, he gave a massive kick that smashed the door off its hinges and sent it flying through the air to smack against the back wall. He glanced toward a wide-eyed Tayla. “There. It’s open.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, darting into the cell and shuddering at the sight of the door that was now a twisted pile of iron.

Yow. She’d think twice before asking Char for help again.

Odel rushed forward, grasping her fingers in a tight grip. Although he was unharmed by the carnage, he looked decidedly worse for wear. His hair was tangled as if it hadn’t been brushed in days, and his eyes bloodshot from weeks of consuming human alcohol. Worse, he smelled as if he hadn’t bothered to bathe in recent memory.

“Oh, my dear girl, you can’t believe how happy I am to see you,” he gushed, his grip so tight it hurt her fingers.

Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “Are you?”

He frowned, sensing her wary disbelief. “Of course.”

She tugged her hands free, trying not to notice how pathetic he looked in his wrinkled clothing and the streaks of dust on his cheek.

Odel was a master at playing on her sympathy, but this time she wasn’t in the mood for his games. He’d wounded her too deeply.

“Because I can be of use, isn’t that right?” she asked. “That’s the only time you bother to notice I’m alive.”

He placed a hand to his chest, as if he was the one hurt. “How could you say that, Tayla?”

“How?” She wrapped her arms around her waist, glaring at the male who should have devoted his life to protecting her. “You sold me.”

He at least had the grace to flinch at her sharp accusation.

“No,” he breathed. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

Her jaw tightened as she recalled the night she’d been attacked by the trolls. Her father had deliberately left her alone in the store, offering her up to the