Scorched by Darkness: Eternal Mates Series Book 18 Page 10

  In the end, one of them left, leaving the tall brunet with only the blond for competition. She didn’t recognise any of them as guards who had been stationed outside the walls of the bastion.

  She flicked a furtive glance at the brunet and forced a smile she hoped was sultry as she found him looking at her. He was handsome, his body lean beneath his black shirt and trousers, and the sculpted planes of his face drew the gazes of passing women. He could have his pick of them, but he had chosen her as his mark.

  Because she wasn’t openly ogling him?

  Vampires liked to hunt their prey.

  She intended to lead him on a hunt like no other, cranking his temperature right up until he was putty in her hands.

  She turned and breezed past him, held her smile back when she felt his gaze tracking her. She led him deeper into the town, pausing at a few windows here and there, making out that she hadn’t noticed he was following her.

  When she came across a group of vampires lingering outside a tavern, in the shelter of the upper floors that jutted out from the building to make it resemble something from the Tudor era in the mortal realm, she slowed her step and openly eyed each of them up. Several of them eyed her in return.

  Unlike the vampire that pursued her, they wore the uniform of the legion, their black knee-length jackets and tight trousers revealing their physiques, and their polished riding boots reflecting the light of the oil lamps that lined the busy street and hung from the overhanging floors of the tavern.

  She tossed a flirty smile at the most handsome among them and then moved on, her smile becoming a grin when several of them hollered lewd things at her.

  They fell silent and she glanced back at them. Her step slowed. The brunet vampire had stopped to stare at them and all of them were now fascinated by their mugs of blood rather than her.

  His piercing aquamarine eyes slid to her.

  He gracefully pivoted away from the males and strode towards her. His chest heaved as he drew down a breath, as he advanced on her and held her immobile with his eyes. She wasn’t sure she could have moved even if she had wanted to, felt as if he had some strange power over her as he closed the distance between them.

  And she let him.

  Beckoned him.

  The people heading towards him gave him a wide berth, veering left when they spotted him.

  Mackenzie waited until he was close to her and then blinked, shattering the spell, and turned away. She sauntered along the cobbled street, putting a little kick in her hips with each step to keep his eyes on her, to draw him deeper under her spell.

  Her pulse gave a kick of its own as she spotted the towering golden walls of the stronghold of the First Legion ahead of her. It loomed on the left of the square, taking up the entire side of it, and her step slowed as she stared at the grim display of power. She swallowed and somehow held her nerve, told herself she wouldn’t end up like the bodies that had been impaled on the tall, rusted pikes.

  Her gaze caught on a drop of crimson as it fell from the boot of one of the victims, followed it down to the pool that had formed beneath the body, an indentation that had been worn into the stone by centuries of blood dripping into it.

  “Riveting, isn’t it?” A deep masculine voice purred into her ear.

  She gasped and spun, her heart lodging in her throat as she cursed herself for allowing the grisly sight to distract her and the vampire to sneak up on her. His blue gaze fell to her throat, growing hooded as he watched her pulse hammering there. She brought her hand up, covering it, her fingers trembling.

  Betraying nerves that were real.

  His smile was that of a predator who had cornered its prey, satisfaction ringing in it as he flashed sharp fangs.

  She tried to get her plan back on track, fluttered her fingers over her pounding pulse, keeping his gaze on it as crimson began to invade his irises, like fire vanquishing ice. She had him under her spell, but she needed him deeper still, needed to make sure he would do what she wanted.

  Without surrendering her blood.

  Her gaze dropped. She meant to look him over, to pretend to drink her fill of him and like what she saw, which wasn’t a chore since he was handsome and suited her tastes to a T. Only her eyes snagged on a thin, silvery line that cut across his throat at a horizontal, a scar that ran from one side to the other, starting and ending below his earlobes.

  Someone had either tried to garrotte him with wire.

  Or they had come close to lopping his head off.

  He bared fangs, a low growl rumbling from his chest, and seized her throat, shoving his hand up to her jaw and her head up with it. She took the hint. The scar was a sore subject, one she would take his advice about and not look at again.

  Crimson eyes glared down at her, filled with malice rather than hunger now.

  She swallowed hard and wished she had told Syn to hang around, just in case her plan didn’t go the way she intended.

  A way she had a terrible feeling it was about to go.

  The vampire pressed his thumb to the left side of her jaw, angling her head to her right, and raked his scarlet eyes down the column of her throat.

  Or maybe not.

  Hunger flooded his gaze again, in danger of turning his pupils elliptical as it caused his eyelids to lower as he stared at her neck.

  “Not here,” she whispered. “Somewhere private. I’d like to be alone with you.”

  She pointedly looked towards the tavern and the vampires who were watching them.

  Her vampire took the bait.

  “Private, like my quarters?” His pupils transformed now, turning elliptical, as he slowly dragged his gaze over her throat and adjusted his grip, his fingers stroking her flesh and sending a shiver traipsing down her spine.

  She nodded.

  The corners of his lips curled slightly and he glanced towards the bastion, and then his eyes locked with hers. “I don’t have quarters here.”

  He didn’t? Damn it. She had picked the wrong vampire, probably the only one in the entire town who wasn’t a member of the First Legion of the Preux Chevaliers.

  “Oh,” she said, shooting for breezy and a little confused. The latter was real. “I thought you were one of the legion. If I had known you weren’t… I mean… I came to the town on a dare because my friends thought I couldn’t hook up with a guy from the legion.”

  On a dare? Hook up?

  She inwardly grimaced and sent up another thousand prayers hoping he bought her ditzy, vampire-ho act. She had been in this town enough times to know that plenty of the females who passed through this wretched corner of the free realm were looking to get with one of the vampires, had some stupid notion it would gain them power or something like it. Sleeping with and donating blood to the rank and file vampires wasn’t going to elevate anyone within any form of society as far as she could tell, and she doubted the officers of the legion were just wandering around town looking for a hook up.

  The King of Death was strict, probably kept his commanding officers off the streets, not wanting them to be distracted by the groupies that visited the town.

  “Too bad.” She shot the vampire a smile and went to move past him, towards the tavern. Maybe one of those vampires could get her into the compound.

  His grip on her throat tightened rather than loosened, halting her beside him. He looked across at her, those cat-like pupils narrowing into thin slits in the centres of his ruby irises.

  “I did not say I was not with the First Legion.”

  Mackenzie stilled right down to her breathing and edged her gaze towards him. “You’re with the legion, but you don’t live here? That’s odd.”

  And unsettling for some reason.

  Her stomach did a weird flip as she stared into his eyes, her instincts rising to the fore to label this male as dangerous. The scarlet bled from his irises, fire giving way to ice again, and his pupils rounded again.

  “What is it you do for the legion?” She tried to tamp down her nerves but failed as she c
ontinued to look into his eyes.

  As he leaned towards her, bringing his mouth close to her ear.

  Whispered.

  “I am an assassin.”

  She tensed and she knew he had felt it, because he smiled at her, that predatory one that left her feeling she wasn’t playing him.

  He was playing her.

  “An assassin?” Her voice wobbled a little, but she sounded bright enough, and the surprise in her tone was as real as the complication standing beside her, holding her at his mercy. “I didn’t know the Preux Chevaliers had assassins.”

  “The Preux Chevaliers as a whole does not.” He rounded her, each step measured and slow as he moved into her path, as he studied her and she felt as if he was peeling back her layers, revealing the things she wanted to keep hidden from him. “The First Legion has one assassin. Me.”

  “So, you’re special like?” She found the courage to raise her hands, to skim them over his chest and smile up into his eyes, acting casual when she felt anything but calm. “Score one for me. I got lucky.”

  His smile widened. “Did you?”

  When he put it like that, she really felt as if she hadn’t. She felt as if she had the worst luck in all of Hell. She focused, piecing together a new plan, a way of gaining access to the bastion without having to give up a pint of blood.

  Or getting herself killed.

  Soldiers were one thing, she had watched them enough when studying the bastion to know they were a horny lot who would do just about anything for blood and a quick bang, but an assassin was a whole different ball game and she didn’t like her odds.

  The more she ran over the things he had told her, the worse those odds became.

  “So, how’d you get to be the sole assassin in the Preux Chevaliers?” She sidled closer to him despite the fact her instincts were screaming at her to get the hell out of Dodge. She could work this, somehow, and put everything back in her favour. She just wasn’t sure how that was going to happen yet.

  So she settled for rubbing his ego.

  “You must be pretty special.” She beamed up at him and walked her fingers over his chest.

  “It was someone else’s idea. I would like to believe he did it because he saw my talents, and not because he was trying to protect me by pushing me into a role where I would not be on the front lines.” The vampire lowered his mouth to her ear and breathed into it, sending a shiver cascading over her. He clutched her upper arms, holding her fast, causing her pulse to spike as she tensed. His low chuckle was warm and sinister, had her wanting to pull away from him before he got ideas about sinking his fangs into her throat. “Relax.”

  Easy for him to say.

  She managed to edge backwards, surprise running through her when he allowed it. He even allowed her to break free of him, his hands falling to his sides as he stood before her, his now-crimson eyes locked on hers. This male had a mercurial mood, something that didn’t show in his actions but showed in his eyes. She had never met a vampire whose eyes changed as frequently as his did.

  “Sounds like you weren’t happy about the change in positions.” She inched another step back as her instincts roared at her to make a break for it now, to forget this plan and just run.

  The vampire looked at her booted feet and then back into her eyes. “At first, but now I understand my role. Now I know my purpose in this legion.”

  He closed the distance between them, coming to tower over her.

  His voice dropped to a whisper.

  “I’m not an assassin.” He eased around her, so close his body brushed hers as he circled her. “I understand that now.”

  “So what are you?” She swallowed hard as she eyed the other end of the road, as she mustered her strength, aware that a teleport would drain it. The spell had healed her body, but it hadn’t restored her depleted energy reserves. If she had to, she could teleport, but doing so would probably render her unconscious.

  She would have to make it count, and hope she had enough juice to reach the guild building rather than tapping out midway through the teleport and landing somewhere she didn’t know.

  “A tracker. A hunter. A protector.” He stroked his hands over her shoulders from behind. “Or a bodyguard, if you will.”

  That sinking feeling in her stomach grew worse.

  The vampire’s lips brushed her earlobe as he whispered, “My brother would very much like to meet you, little assassin.”

  Mackenzie teleported.

  And went nowhere.

  Chapter 11

  The vampire clucked his tongue. “It would be rude of you to leave. Not that you can. The moment you set foot in this square, you were trapped. You can thank my mate for that little spell.”

  Mackenzie yelped as he grabbed her hair, fisting it hard, and dragged her backwards. Her hands flew up and she seized his wrist with both of them. She struggled to remain on her feet as he hauled her towards the bastion. Her boots slipped on the black cobbles and she cried out as her entire body dropped, her weight pulling on her hair.

  She threw a fearful glance over her shoulder at the golden walls, at those morbid spikes, and her heart jacked up into her throat. Gods, she was going to end up on one of those, drained of her blood and left to rot.

  No, she damned well wasn’t.

  She focused, summoning the energy she had held in reserve so she could teleport, diverting it towards a different purpose.

  Her hands heated.

  Began to burn.

  The vampire hissed and tossed her past him, sent her tumbling across the cobblestones. She grunted, her arms and legs flailing, bones aching with each heavy bounce she made before she finally came to a halt on her front. She breathed hard, the warm air fanning back against her face from the stones.

  When the pain ebbed, she pressed her hands to the ground and slowly pushed up.

  Froze as her eyes locked with her reflection in a pair of polished black riding boots.

  She slowly lifted her head, tipping it back as her eyes drifted up the height of the brunet vampire who stood over her, his hands clasped behind his back, stretching his black jacket tight across his chest.

  His ice-blue eyes narrowed as he smiled at her.

  “Hello, Mackenzie.”

  Shit.

  The King of Death himself.

  He eased into a crouch before her, his bass voice smooth and lightly accented with a regal English edge that made him sound every bit the aristocrat he was. “I see you met my younger brother.”

  His blue eyes lifted to fix on the male she had scalded with her power, a flicker of concern lighting them.

  “Night?”

  The vampire called Night grumbled, “I’m fine. Bitch burned me.”

  Grave returned his focus to her and gave her a look that said she was going to die painfully, but only after he had played with her a while, making her suffer for harming his brother.

  She wasn’t sticking around to find out what he had in mind for her.

  Mackenzie twisted away from him and shoved to her feet, blazed a trail past Night and kept on running, sprinting towards the edge of the town. Behind her, the King of Death barked orders, and her pulse tripled as she sensed vampires closing in on her from all sides.

  Damn it.

  She ducked down a narrow alley and shoved past a woman as she tossed a pail into the central gutter that ran along it, caught her and pushed her behind her. The woman grunted as she went down, but whoever was behind her was too nimble to be caught by her falling, leaped over her and landed hot on Mackenzie’s heels.

  Her life wasn’t going to end here.

  She summoned her strength, focused on making it beyond the sphere of the spell so she could teleport. It didn’t matter where she landed, as long as it was a good distance from here.

  Mackenzie rushed across another street and down another alley, kept her eyes fixed on the other end of it.

  On her freedom.

  If she could make it out there, into the wasteland, she would be saf
e.

  She burst out of the alley and focused, calling upon her ability as she sprinted across the loose black dirt, towards distant mountains. They would do.

  She willed the teleport.

  Again, nothing happened.

  And it wasn’t because she didn’t have the strength.

  Her eyes widened as something hit her in the back, toppling her. She grunted as she slammed into the dirt with him on top of her, cried out as his weight crushed her back and battled the panic that lit her veins.

  The bastard had lied to her.

  The spell his mate had cast didn’t only cover the square.

  It covered the entire town and beyond it.

  The vampires were toying with her.

  She shirked her attacker and stumbled onto her feet, spun and delivered a hard kick to his face to keep him down. Night grunted and fell backwards. She looked in all directions, desperately seeking a way to escape him.

  He was faster than her, but she wasn’t going to just give up.

  She turned and pain erupted across her face, her bones burning as a fist ploughed into it. She staggered backwards, fighting to maintain her footing, and shook off the blow. Glared at the one who had delivered it.

  The King of Death.

  “Do not try to run from me. Many assassins have tried, and all have failed.” He advanced on her and she backed off, gaze darting around again, searching for something although she wasn’t sure what.

  A weapon?

  She had one of those.

  She drew the dagger from the sheath at her waist, earning a raised eyebrow from the vampire.

  “A blade meant for elves. The report on the other assassin was correct then.” Grave looked to his brother as Night picked himself up from the dirt and dusted himself off. “Set up a perimeter around the town, ask Lilian to maintain the barrier spell. I want that elf captured the second he returns.”

  The brunet vampire turned cold blue eyes on her.

  “As for you.”

  He moved so fast she didn’t see him coming. One moment he stood a distance away and the next he was behind her, his hand seizing her throat. The panic flooding her veins became all-out fear and she elbowed him in the ribs as she surged forwards. He lost his grip on her and she pirouetted to face him, bringing her dagger up at the same time.