Scorched by Darkness: Eternal Mates Series Book 18 Read online

  The demoness changed in the blink of an eye, her expression going from murderous to joyful as her gaze shifted from him to Mackenzie. “Sweetie! Congratulations.”

  Syn pulled her into a hug that made Mackenzie grunt and he felt the pain she experienced from the tight embrace on his own body, growled at the demoness in a warning to handle his mate more gently.

  In response, she extended her middle finger at him.

  He got the impression she still wasn’t going to be nice to him.

  Not willing to fight a battle he knew he couldn’t win, he turned his focus to the documents and maps on the table, seeking a way they could draw the witch out. He showed no sign of attacking them, so they were going to have to attack him.

  Mackenzie manage to extricate herself from Syn’s embrace and came to stand beside him again. “We could stage a fight. There’s a chance he doesn’t know we’re working together now. A slim chance, but it’s still a chance. If Grave led his legion or visited somewhere, we could perform a pincer move on him, come at him from two angles and pretend to take him down. Grave could play dead.”

  Hartt was quick to shake his head. “It won’t work. Harbin played dead the time we encountered the witch in the mortal world, using it to catch him off guard. The male won’t fall for the same trick twice.”

  “So, how do we draw him out? He’s gone to ground.” Mackenzie glanced at him.

  “He wants us all dead. What if we isolated ourselves, making him think he can pick one of us off?” Grave stepped forwards, coming to a halt on the other side of the table to Hartt, his back to the sash windows.

  “Isolating ourselves sounds dangerous. You can’t possibly think taking on the witch alone is a good plan.” Mackenzie’s tone made it clear she thought it was a stupid one, and the vampire was an idiot for suggesting it.

  “I meant we appear as if we are isolated, while the others lay in wait. I nominate you to be the one who pretends she’s all alone.” Grave glared at Mackenzie, and Hartt growled at him, issuing another warning.

  Mackenzie wasn’t going anywhere alone, not until he had put this witch in the ground.

  He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, seeking the answer not in the papers scattered in front of him but inside him. He could almost feel it there, just beyond his reach.

  “He probably wouldn’t take the bait anyway. He wants us to kill each other, and then he wants to kill the last one standing.” Mackenzie twisted and leaned her backside against the edge of the table, coming to face him. “I say we give the play dead scenario a shot. You and Grave could both pretend to die.”

  While the vampire snarled at her for that suggestion, Hartt didn’t take it personally. The witch knew Mackenzie was a phoenix shifter, and therefore she would be reborn if she died. He was probably expecting her to be the last one standing, might even want her to die and be resurrected so she would be weak enough to capture. He did growl now, the thought of her being held captive by the witch and tormented, used for her blood, ripping it from him.

  He couldn’t risk her like that, not when he was sure the witch could teleport and use other spells that might incapacitate him and Grave while he made off with Mackenzie. He wanted to tackle the male head-on, not giving him a chance to use spells against them. He wanted to hit the male while he wasn’t expecting it, taking him by surprise, but that meant he needed to find the bastard.

  He smiled slowly as an idea hit him and looked at Mackenzie and then Grave.

  “We fight fire with fire.”

  Or at least a witch with a witch.

  Chapter 26

  The thatched cottage was still in the darkness, loomed up the hill from Mackenzie as she stood with Fuery and Syn, waiting for Hartt to return with the vampires. Grave had insisted on bringing his brother, Night, and Mackenzie had wanted to tease him about how he only wanted Night to come because everyone else got to bring someone.

  That desire had died on her lips as Hartt had revealed the real reason the King of Death wanted backup—the mate of the witch they were going to see was a prince of elves.

  A mad one at that.

  The tales of Prince Vail were legendary, horror stories that were whispered in dark halls by fearful people and around campfires by youngsters to scare each other witless. She had heard a lot of stories about him, and according to Hartt and Fuery, most of them were probably more truth than fiction.

  But things had changed for the mad elf prince.

  Within the last few years, he had been freed of the spell that had bound him to a witch who had been controlling him for four thousand years, something that had blown Mackenzie’s mind, and had found his mate.

  In another witch.

  Now, he was apparently recuperating here in this idyllic chocolate box cottage with that mate, learning to tolerate her magic and only occasionally slipping into a murderous rage when he sensed her using it near him.

  Which wasn’t a comfort.

  She rubbed her bare arms, trying to keep the chill off them and willing Hartt to hurry. While Fuery had assured her that Vail wouldn’t attack her, she didn’t like it here, wanted backup of her own. Syn would take on anyone to defend her, she knew that, but she didn’t need violence if Vail turned dangerous.

  She needed someone who could reason with him, and Fuery had said that Hartt was good at handling the prince. She wasn’t sure whether he was telling the truth, or just trying to make his friend look good to her, and she didn’t care.

  She just wanted Hartt at her side again.

  A restlessness had invaded her the moment he had left her here, returning to Hell for the vampires. She itched to pace, wanted to lash out at Syn whenever she dared to speak and felt a powerful need to avoid being near Fuery. She put the last one down to a desire not to be close to other males while her own one was absent, something which she already found irritating. If she had known a side-effect of mating with Hartt would be a need to avoid all other males if he wasn’t around, she wouldn’t have claimed him.

  No. She still would have.

  She would just have to find a way to work with this new instinct, to figure out what did and didn’t trigger it so she could live with it. She was a good twenty feet from Fuery and felt no compelling urge to place herself further from him, so maybe it was only close proximity that roused the instinct. It was a start anyway, a baseline for her to work from when she had the time.

  Hartt appeared close to Fuery with the vampires. He blew out his breath and she frowned as she sensed his fatigue, the fierce drain on his strength that had him growing pale, and his emotions growing turbulent. She closed the distance between them when she felt darkness rising inside him.

  “You should not have teleported so many.” Fuery looked as worried as she felt, cast an assessing glance over Hartt as he bent over, bracing his hands against his knees.

  “What do you mean?” Mackenzie said.

  He growled, a clear warning to Fuery not to tell her, but his friend thankfully ignored him.

  “Teleporting powerful people is taxing on elves. It drains us and leaves us weak.”

  Mackenzie’s gaze shifted to Hartt as a spark of anger ignited her blood.

  “That’s why you said you couldn’t teleport both me and Grave that time.” She huffed and eased into a crouch before him, her brow furrowing as she gazed up at his face. “You should have told me that teleporting us here would do this to you.”

  The look in his eyes said he had known she would stop him, would insist she remained behind while they visited Rosalind, and that was the reason he hadn’t told her. Because only he and Fuery knew this location, he had been forced to teleport Mackenzie and Syn here, followed by Grave and Night. According to the argument that had broken out when Hartt had nominated himself for teleportation duty, Fuery’s ability to teleport was unreliable at best, took a monumental effort on his part. He had ordered Fuery to teleport here alone, leaving himself to bring the others.

  “Visitors!” A bright, cheery female voice with a strong
British accent cut through the darkness. “Some welcome… some not.”

  A petite woman with long ash-blonde hair strode across the grass towards them, the distant lights of the house and the moon combining to throw her shadows in two directions across it. Loose black bottoms dotted with white stars shifted with each step she took in her fluffy pink slipper-boots and she wrapped her arms around herself, tugging a thick black cardigan closed over her chest and huddling down into it.

  A vicious growl pealed like thunder around them and then a darkly handsome male stood right before Mackenzie, between the blonde female and the vampires.

  The mad elf prince himself.

  Onyx armour rippled over his body as his jeans and woollen jumper disappeared, formed razor-sharp claws at his fingertips and even rose up over his head to cover it like a helmet. The metal scales remained clear of the area below his eyebrows, but dipped lower above his nose to offer it some protection, and flared up around the crown of his head to form spikes like dragon horns.

  Rosalind loosed a sigh and looked at Hartt. “You should have known better.”

  Mackenzie closed ranks with him, her instinct to protect him forcing her to move in case the mad elf prince meant to attack him.

  “Leaving them behind wasn’t an option.” Hartt sounded strained and tired as he straightened and a flicker of worry lit Rosalind’s blue eyes and made Mackenzie want to growl and claw them out. He waved the witch away, sparing her. “I am fine. Just a teleport drain. It is passing.”

  “You should have left the wretches behind,” Vail growled in the direction of the vampires, his eyes never straying from them.

  Rosalind sighed dramatically, stepped up to her mate and wrapped her arms around his right one. She looked up at him, an adoring expression on her face, bright silver stars sparkling in her eyes, as if she was snuggling up to a teddy bear rather than a dark, dangerous and deadly elf who apparently despised vampires.

  Mackenzie marvelled as Vail became just that as his gaze dropped to Rosalind and lifted to the vampires, only to immediately return to his mate and soften. His hard expression melted away, all the darkness lifting from it as he stared down at her. The power of a mate. Did Mackenzie have such power over Hartt? Having a kick-ass and powerful assassin for a mate might have its advantages.

  Like, maybe she could convince him to ditch his guild and join hers.

  They would make a killer team. Quite literally.

  It only took one look at him to know that while she might have the power to wrap him around her little finger, there would be no convincing him to leave his guild. Fuery lived there, and the times he had spoken of other assassins under his command, there had been a warmth in his eyes that had revealed what those people meant to him. His guild was his family, just as her guild was her family.

  Maybe she could settle on the guilds teaming up, forming a sort of super-guild with two offices. Sometimes she could help Hartt out with a job, and sometimes he could help her. Both guilds would prosper and if hers just happened to surpass his in reputation and popularity, so be it.

  “It turns out you were right and a witch is behind everything.” Hartt’s deep voice rolled over her, made her want to purr as heat suffused every inch of her. She eased closer to him, wanting to hold his arm as Rosalind held Vail’s, but didn’t want to look like some moon-eyed girl. Hartt took hold of her hand as soon as she was within reach, interlinked their fingers and held it tightly, showing her that she was the only one with a problem where public displays of affection were concerned. “Mackenzie here lost her family to his kind and retaliated by taking out most of his family during her escape. Grave was hired by one of her remaining kin to find her and kill whoever was holding her, only she had escaped by the time he reached the mansion where she had been held.”

  Her heart melted a little as he left out the fact she was a phoenix shifter, skilfully avoided revealing it to the witch and her mate, keeping her secret for her.

  “I took out some witches who returned to find the building in ruins,” Grave added, earning a black snarl from the elf prince. The vampire met it with one of his own, baring his fangs at Vail, and Night stepped closer to his brother, forming a formidable wall with him. If Vail lost it and decided to fight Grave, he was going to have to take on both vampires at once.

  Something Mackenzie doubted would be a problem for him.

  Rosalind smoothed her palm down her mate’s arm, regaining his attention, causing that miraculous transformation that fascinated Mackenzie. Savage wolf to sappy puppy in the blink of an eye.

  “It is the same witch I fought in the mortal realm, one who was working for an Archangel huntress.” Hartt held his free hand up when Rosalind looked alarmed. “Not the one you’re thinking of. This one had targeted Harbin, a snow leopard shifter in my employment, ruining his life and coming close to destroying his pride a few decades ago. She went after him again, and we were able to eradicate her, but the witch escaped. Harbin took his mate to Underworld, where his brother works, to protect her… sure the witch would come after him. Only he didn’t.”

  “Because he was too busy putting together an amazeballs plot to bring all three of you down.” Rosalind beamed at Hartt, as if she was proud of this witch for pulling together a plan that had almost succeeded.

  “We need to find him. We’ve searched the destroyed mansion and looked in a few other places, but we’ve turned up nothing.” Hartt ran his hand around the back of his neck, and Mackenzie felt his fatigue, how badly he needed to rest. She admired him as he took command of the situation despite how weary he was, discovered another quality she liked in him. He huffed. “The last time I came here, you sensed magic on me. Can you use that magic to track him?”

  The petite blonde released her mate and crossed the grass to Hartt, ignoring how Vail growled low in his throat and looked as if he wanted to drag her back to him to stop her from being near Hartt. Mackenzie made a mental note of that—some elves didn’t lose that instinct to keep their mate away from other males once they had claimed her.

  The witch raised her hand and went to press it to Hartt’s chest.

  Mackenzie snatched hold of her wrist before she could make contact, loosed a vicious snarl that shocked even herself as fire blazed through her, heated her flesh and brought her dangerously close to going nuclear.

  Rosalind slowly turned wide blue star-pricked eyes on her. “Oh, I like you.”

  She might like her, but Mackenzie didn’t like the fascinated edge her eyes gained as she turned away from Hartt, coming to face Mackenzie instead.

  “What are you?” The witch’s eyes narrowed on hers, a scrutinising look filling them. Before Mackenzie could tell her to back off and make her regret asking that question and looking as if she wanted to dissect her just like a blood mage, Rosalind waved her away and her nose wrinkled. “Forget I asked. Let’s focus on the more important thing here—you have what I need to find this witch.”

  “I do?” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

  Rosalind nodded eagerly. “You touched him recently, didn’t you?”

  Hartt growled, sounding terribly like Vail, a possessive snarl that sent a thrill chasing down Mackenzie’s spine. She glanced at him, lingered when he looked ready to murder someone.

  “Not like that,” she bit out, hoping her firm tone would make it clear he was reading into things, completely blowing this out of proportion. “I grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving when I was having a meeting with him.”

  And boy was she glad she had now, even though it had made her feel like a desperate fool at the time.

  “I should be able to track down his location with the right spells.” Rosalind flicked a nervous glance at her mate. “But it might mean I have to tag along, following the spell like.”

  Vail shook his head, strode to her and gathered her into his arms. “No. This female is of Hell. Hartt and Fuery live there. The wretch too. I… I do not think I could… not right now. I cannot go there right now.”

&n
bsp; Rosalind wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head on his chest. “No one is going to make you go to Hell, Vail.”

  “But if the witch is there… Little wild rose will leave me.” Vail shoved his hands into his wild blue-black hair as the onyx scales of his armour rippled down his head, leaving it unprotected, and then did something that made Mackenzie believe not just some of the stories about him but all of them.

  He pushed away from his mate and dug his claws into his scalp, his face twisting in a grimace that flashed huge fangs as he snarled and growled. He paced away from everyone, roared as he lashed out at an apple tree, cutting deep grooves in the bark with his black talons. Regret washed across his features, his expression growing pained as he turned to the tree, as he pressed his palms to the point he had wounded and closed his eyes. Mackenzie’s widened as the tree healed, the damage he had done to it reversing to leave not even a scar behind.

  “Vail,” Rosalind whispered and went to him. She stroked her hand down his spine as he braced himself against the tree and leaned forwards, hanging his head between his arms. “I will not make you go to Hell… and I will not go without you. I’ll never leave you.”

  He turned his head towards her and lifted it, his look bleak.

  And then he was holding her again, crushing her to his chest and burying his face in her fall of golden hair.

  The vampires looked as if they wanted to comment on his erratic behaviour, but wisely held their tongues. Fuery looked worried, and she had the feeling it was for Vail. Hartt just stared at her, and when she looked at him, she could easily read his thoughts.

  “I’m going back to Hell if the witch is there,” she said, laying down the law before he could get ideas about trying to make her stay far away from the witch where she would be safe. She squeezed his hand. “I’ll never leave you.”