Shades of Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #16) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,51

her head, she watched the demon leap toward the portal. At the same time, Levet launched his fireball. They met at the portal at the same time.

Predictably, the fireball exploded as it hit the barrier. Just as predictably, the brownie screamed. A shrill, earsplitting scream.

Brigette covered her ears and braced herself. She’d already been in a portal with Levet’s magic. She knew what was coming next. Or at least she thought she knew.

There was a rumble, as if an earthquake was rising beneath their feet. Then, with a concussive impact, the portal blew apart. Wind sheared past Brigette, forcing her to her knees and nearly stopping her heart. Worse, it picked up the loose sand that surrounded them and scoured it across her skin.

She was being flayed by the miniscule projectiles.

She didn’t know how much time passed before the ground stopped shaking, but it felt like an eternity. At last convinced she wasn’t going to be ripped apart, she shoved aside her hair that had been tugged from its braid. Sand sprayed out of the thick curls, sticking to her damp skin to form a crusty layer.

Brigette grimaced. She needed a shower in the worst way. Unfortunately, that was probably not going to happen. At least not in the near future.

Slowly turning, her mouth dropped open at the sight of the charred, gaping hole. It looked as if a nuclear bomb had struck. Perhaps a meteorite.

There was no sign at all of the portal or the brownie.

Her gaze swiveled back to stab Levet with a glare of disbelief. “What have you done?”

The fairy wings drooped. “Oops.”

Chapter 15

Chaaya tried not to stare. The jinn was a dark, luscious temptation as he inspected her with a lazy gaze. Everything about him oozed sex and desire and…hunger. And she had a suspicion she’d be crawling over him in mindless need if he released the full effect of his magic.

Thankfully he was content to study her with an unwavering emerald gaze. At least until the distant screams echoed through the air. Then he offered her a smile that made her heart slam against her ribs.

“As I said.” Kgosi waved a languid hand. “Just a matter of time.”

Chaaya shook off the bewitchment. If she’d still been human there would have been no way she could break free of the magic, but her current reincarnation—or whatever had happened to her—offered immunity to most magic. Plus, there was a large part of her that would never be swayed by a jinn, no matter how gorgeous he might be. A part that belonged to another male, even if she wasn’t prepared to admit it.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, ignoring Basq’s warning frown. She didn’t know much about jinns. No one did. But it didn’t take an expert to suspect that only a fool pissed them off. That didn’t stop her, of course. She didn’t know how to be anything but an in-your-face sort of gal. “Have you been watching us?”

“I’ve caught glimpses of you over the centuries,” Kgosi claimed. “I know you were sacrificed to halt the evil tide from corrupting the earthly magic.”

Chaaya narrowed her eyes, but it was Basq who pointed out the obvious. “Her story isn’t a secret.”

The emerald gaze drifted over Basq’s tightly clenched features. “But yours is, isn’t it, vampire? You have hidden in the shadows, both real and metaphorical.”

Chaaya’s brows snapped together. Dabbler had claimed Kgosi was an oracle and that he could help her locate Brigette. But she wasn’t nearly so confident. In fact, she suspected that Dabbler had hoped to dump them here in the belief the jinn would be angry enough to kill them for intruding.

Instead, it sounded like the brownie had died a painful death.

Bonus.

“Can you see the future?” she asked.

He pursed his full, sensual lips. “I can see several futures.”

She made a choking sound. “I hate the mumbo jumbo of oracles.”

Basq stepped closer, as if expecting the jinn to strike out. Instead Kgosi arched a brow.

“Have you known many oracles?”

She wanted to tell him she’d known a hundred. Maybe a thousand, but that ruthless emerald gaze warned her that Kgosi would know if she was lying.

“Just the one in our village,” she admitted. “Sybil was always predicting disaster. Either the harvest would fail, or a plague was coming.” She wrinkled her nose. Sybil had craved constant attention as she’d drifted around the village dressed in flimsy robes, her face covered by a veil. Every so often she would stop in the center of the