Devoured by Darkness

Hmmm. Was ignorance bliss?



Tane didn’t have an answer.



And in the end, it didn’t matter.



Laylah was his. And no amount of future aggravation, annoyance, and downright terror would convince him that it was anything but a miracle.



Time for a new conversation.



“Have you discovered any information on the Sylvermyst?”



“Not much.” Styx’s expression hardened. He didn’t like the fact the evil fey had managed to keep their presence hidden. Or the fact that they weren’t sure just how much a danger they posed. “Jagr has been studying what little information he has in his library.”



“And?”



“From what he read they share the same magic of other fey. They can form portals, cast hexes, and enchant objects. They can also create the usual illusions.”



Tane straightened from the desk. That was next to worthless.



“Styx, these were no typical fey.”



“No, they aren’t,” he agreed, his eyes darkening with frustration. “But they were always secretive and rarely mixed with other demons, so the truth of their powers is hid in obscurity. Now there’s nothing more than nearly forgotten rumors.”



“What are they?” Tane demanded. Rumors were better than nothing.



“One claims that they have a much higher tolerance to iron than their cousins.”



“That’s no rumor. The bastard disappeared out of a cell made entirely of iron and lined with lead while shackled. I’ve never heard of another fey who could do that.” He shook off his regret they hadn’t kept a constant guard on the bastard. How could they have known he could create a portal through enough lead to kill most fey? “What else?”



“They can speak with the dead.” Tane shuddered at the unexpected revelation. “Charming.”



“More than charming,” Styx said. “They can compel spirits into their service.”



“Are you saying they have ghost slaves?”



Styx held up a warning hand. “Don’t dismiss the danger, Tane. There are spirits who can cause damage even to a vampire. And the more powerful shades are capable of pulling souls into the underworld.”



Tane had heard of demons who possessed the talent of necromancy, but they could rarely do more than communicate with those who’d passed to the underworld.



To actually be able to take command of a shade …



He abruptly stiffened. “Damn.”



“What is it?”



“Jaelyn must be warned,” he said.



“Don’t worry,” Styx soothed. “I’ve sent DeAngelo and Xander to track her.”



Tane shook his head. Jaelyn was a genuine pain in the ass, but she was a true born Hunter.



“They’ll never find her.”



Styx regarded him with a curious expression. “She’s that good?”



“The best I’ve ever encountered.”



“Excellent.” The Anasso smiled. “I have need of a Hunter. Perhaps I’ll invite her to join my Ravens.”



Tane snorted, trying to imagine the prickly female trying to make nice with the massive, overly arrogant vampires that made up Styx’s bodyguard.



Blood would most certainly flow.



“Better you than me.”



“Why?”



“She has the attitude of a rabid badger.”



Styx was unfazed. “I remember another vampire with impressive skills and a nasty attitude,” he murmured. “I had to kick his ass on a regular basis, but eventually I managed to tame him.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I just found the means to focus his feral nature.”



Tane grimaced. He rarely thought back to those days. After he was forced to kill Sung Li, he’d retreated from the world, living as little better than a rabid animal in the caves of northern Mongolia.



He wasn’t sure how much time passed when Styx made his first appearance, but he did know that he’d done his best to kill the massive Aztec. He didn’t know that Styx was a servant of the previous Anasso, and wouldn’t have given a shit if he did. He would have been happy if the unknown vampire had managed to put an end to his miserable existence.



But Styx didn’t strike the killing blow.



Instead he retreated, only to return the next night, sitting on a rock near Tane’s cave and eventually leaving behind a blanket. The next night he had settled a few feet closer and left behind a stack of books. The next night it had been clean clothing.



His patience had been remarkable, and slowly he’d earned enough of Tane’s trust to lead him back into civilization. And eventually he’d trained him to become his Charon.



At the time Tane hadn’t known why the vampire would make such an effort.



It was only in the past months that he’d discovered that two of them had committed the same fatal sin.



Styx had covered the madness of the previous Anasso until it was nearly too late.



They shared a sense of gnawing guilt and regret that no one else could truly understand.



“I have never …”



“Hell, no,” Styx cut in, his brows snapping together in a scowl of warning. “If you start with any touchy-feely crap I’m tossing your ass out of here.”



“I owe you my life,” Tane pressed. “It won’t be forgotten.”



“You have repaid any debt several times over.” Styx paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Of course, now I suppose I shall have to choose a new Charon.”



“Yes.” Tane smiled, realizing he no longer had the driving need to purge his guilt. Laylah had healed the wounds that plagued him for so long. “I intend to devote myself to my mate once we’re done with this mess.”



A mysterious smile touched Styx’s lips. “We’ll see.”



Tane froze. “I don’t like the sound of that.”



“I always have need of loyal vampires.”



“I don’t think Laylah would be any happier with me becoming one of your Ravens.”



An evil glint entered the ancient vampire’s eyes. “I was thinking more as a liaison to the Commission.”



Tane made a sound of choked disbelief. Styx wanted him to negotiate with a group of powerful demons who could turn him into a toad on a whim?



No. Way.



“I’d rather have my head chopped off,” he said, meaning every word. Styx shrugged. “We can discuss it later.”



“We can discuss it never,” he growled, heading for the door. Obviously the Anasso had lost his damned mind. “Now I’m going to join my mate before you suggest I become a translator for the hellhounds.”



Styx chuckled. “I’ll have dinner sent to your room at dusk.”



Tane glanced over his shoulder. “Make sure there’s German chocolate cake. Laylah loves cake.”



“I did not become the most powerful mage in the world to tromp through damp woods,” Sergei whined, looking decidedly worse for the wear with his hair hanging loosely around his thin face and his expensive clothing stained beyond repair. “My shoes are completely ruined.”



Marika was no happier when Sergei’s spell finally picked up Laylah’s trail only to discover it led her straight back to the lair of the Anasso.



The one place certain Marika couldn’t follow.



Aggravating little bitch.



But whatever her annoyance, she was too wise to reveal any lack of confidence in her ultimate glory in front of the Sylvermyst that she’d commanded to surround and keep watch on the Chicago estate.



It was bad enough that their leader, Ariyal, had disappeared during their battle with the wood sprites. The ridiculous fey had been convinced that it was a bad omen. She wasn’t going to have Sergei’s petulant behavior further undermine their belief in her leadership.



A pity she still had need of the idiot.



She would take great pleasure in offering him as a public sacrifice.



“Shut up, you moron,” she hissed, standing near the edge of the tree line, trusting that Sergei’s cloak of concealment would keep them hidden from the Anasso’s Ravens. “You have done nothing but complain since leaving London.”



His lips thinned with childish resentment. “I possess a fragile constitution.”



“You are an embarrassment to mages everywhere,” Marika mocked. “Even the fey consider you a spineless fool.”



“Ah yes, your precious Sylvermyst.” He glanced toward the slender warriors who were nearly impossible to see among the dark shadows of the trees. “Tell me, Marika, just where is Ariyal?”



Her expression revealed none of her fury at Ariyal’s vanishing act.



Or the suspicion he wasn’t as dedicated to the cause as he pretended to be.



“He was obviously captured or killed.”



“Or he switched sides.”



Her tongue toyed with the tip of her fang. A reminder that for all of Sergei’s magical abilities, she could kill him with one strike.



“Jealous, Sergei?”



“Jealous of a fey who spent endless centuries playing whore to Morgana le Fey?” His disdainful tone didn’t entirely hide his edge of envy. Ariyal hadn’t bothered to conceal his amusement at the mage’s superior attitude. The fey was a natural leader of his people who had no need of magical tricks to gain respect. “Not hardly.”



Marika laughed with cruel enjoyment. “He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”



“He’s a demon whose loyalty is for sale to the highest bidder,” the mage snapped. “Be careful, my dear. He might be using your own army to betray you.”



The fact that the fear had crossed her mind more than once infuriated Marika.



She regarded him with a cold glare. “The only traitor in my employ is you, mage.”



Sergei was an arrogant ass, but he wasn’t suicidal. Dropping the subject he instead glanced toward the house that was guarded by a dozen vampires.



“How long do you intend to wait here?”



“As long as Laylah and the babe remain.”



“They could stay in the Anasso’s lair for the rest of eternity.”



“Then we wait.”



Biting back his angry words, Sergei turned to pace through the thick undergrowth, his hands clenched at his side.