When Darkness Ends(Guardians of Eternity,book 12)(18) by Alexandra Ivy
He gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll take you there.”
“If you’ll just tell me where—”
With a blinding speed, Cyn was grasping her shoulders and sealing her mouth in a kiss that spoke of hunger and irritation and a smoldering frustration that was oddly echoed deep inside her.
Fallon was too shocked to immediately respond.
No doubt a good thing since she didn’t have a clue if she wanted to slap his face or melt into his arms.
Instead she whipped up a less than convincing appearance of outrage as he pulled away.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll let you know if I figure it out,” he growled, turning as if he intended to lead her to the kitchens. Then, without warning, he was whirling toward the front door, his fangs fully exposed. “Wait.”
Fallon clutched the banister, her heart halting. Had her father found her? Or worse . . . Magnus?
“What is it?”
“Gargoyle,” he snarled, the word barely leaving his lips before there was the sound of a small pop and a tiny creature with large fairy wings and stunted horns appeared in the middle of the foyer. “What the hell are you doing here?” Cyn demanded.
“Siljar sent me,” the gargoyle said, spreading his arms and grinning at the furious vampire. “Lucky you.”
Tonya had all sorts of reasons to be in a PMS mood as she switched on a lamp to battle the gathering shadows.
She was stuck in Chicago instead of taking care of the demon club that she managed for Viper. God only knew what disasters would be waiting for her when the Anasso allowed her to return.
She’d be lucky if the damned place was still standing without her to keep an eye on the volatile clientele who didn’t consider a party started until someone was bleeding.
And now she was seated at the massive desk in Styx’s library, staring at the mind-numbingly gorgeous Chatri prince who was strolling across the priceless carpet with enough arrogance to make her teeth ache.
A part of her wanted to grab the heavy crystal paperweight off the desk and toss it at his head. But a larger part of her wanted to rip off his black slacks and crisp white shirt and rub herself against his lean muscular body.
It was annoying as hell.
He was a rude, condescending ass who was clearly convinced she was far beneath his lofty royal position.
Precisely the sort of man she detested.
But the moment he walked into the room, she was zapped with such an intense sexual reaction that she felt physically compelled to reach out and touch him.
She tried to tell herself that it was merely a predictable reaction to being near a Chatri. They’d once been worshiped as gods by her people, hadn’t they? The urge to become his ready, willing, and eager concubine was surely nothing more than a primitive instinct.
Or maybe she was just one of those women who had shitty taste in men.
She had, after all, believed herself to be in love with her boss, Santiago, who’d recently mated his beloved Nefri.
Whatever the cause, she found her nerves rubbed raw as the prince came to a halt in front of the desk, his expression haughty.
“Where is the Anasso?”
His power wrapped around her, the scent of aged whiskey teasing at her nose. She shuddered as a decadent pleasure bubbled through her blood.
“Do I look like a receptionist?” she forced herself to demand.
He narrowed his stunning cognac eyes. “You look like a lesser fey who should know her place.”
Her hand reached for the paperweight. She wasn’t going to throw it. Not yet.
“My place is at Viper’s club, but because of you I’m stuck here.”
He peered down the length of his noble nose. “It should be an honor to serve me.”
“It’s a waste of my time.”
A frown touched his brows, as if he didn’t know what to do with a female who refused to play by his rules. Then he gave a sharp shake of his head, the overhead chandelier catching the ruby highlights in the long length of his hair.
“I did not come here to speak with you,” he said, his cultured voice holding the edge of an accent. “I need to see the vampire.”
“It is not your concern.”
Her fingers tightened on the paperweight. Styx hadn’t forbidden her from doing bodily harm to the prince when he’d insisted she remain in Chicago.
Still, she didn’t know how long she was going to have to deal with this aggravating male. After punching him in the nose it would probably be better if she resisted further bloodshed for as long as possible.
“Unfortunately it is,” she said stiffly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Styx has forced . . . requested that I be his liaison.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Any requests you have for the King of Vampires must go through me,” she informed him.
He made a sound of impatience. “That’s unacceptable.”
“No shit,” she muttered. “But that’s the way it is. So what do you want?”
Magnus studied her for a long minute, taking careful note of her stubborn expression. At last he heaved a resigned sigh.
“I wondered if he was aware there has been an imp circling the estate for the past hour.”
“An imp?” Having expected some ridiculous demand, Tonya was caught off guard by the prince’s question. With a smooth motion she was on her feet and heading toward the windows that overlooked the rose garden. When the Chatri had first made their appearance in Chicago, the King of Vampires’ estate had been nearly overrun by fey who were desperate to catch sight of their one-time gods. Then Styx had sent his Ravens to warn the various imps, sprites, fairies, and nymphs that his house wasn’t a damned tourist attraction and that he’d start putting fey heads on spikes if they didn’t stay the hell away. It’d been enough to send the gawkers fleeing in fear. It seemed almost unbelievable that there would be an imp brave enough to invite the Anasso’s wrath. “You’re certain?”
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