Marco stretched out his legs, leaning his back against a large rock. Below him a narrow creek cut through the rolling hills that were sparsely covered with a prickly brush. Earlier there had been a handful of human hikers rambling along the remote paths, but as the sun sank over the horizon, the land was reclaimed by the natural inhabitants. Coyote, fox, and bats searched the barren landscape for their first meal of the night.
Marco was busy with his own hunt. His, however, was far more elusive than a scampering mouse.
Tilting back his head, he studied the entrance to the cave at the top of the peak. He could sense Satin was inside, despite her efforts to mute her presence. He didn’t need her scent to track her. She called to him with a siren’s song.
Marco heaved a deep sigh. He was a skilled predator. And even if he wasn’t, it didn’t take any brains to figure out that the time to attack his prey was when they were at their most vulnerable.
Right now Satin was cornered. She couldn’t escape until the sun was completely gone. The perfect opportunity to demand the answers to the questions gnawing at him. But rather than take advantage of the situation, Marco had found a spot where he could keep guard on the entrance to the cave and wait for night.
He told himself it was a smart strategy. Last time he’d charged after Satin, he’d ended up caught in a snare. He wasn’t going to risk stumbling into another trap. Not to mention the fact that he was exhausted. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had a decent night’s sleep. Add in a wild chase to track down Satin and then the struggle to escape the spell she’d tossed at him…it was no wonder his energy was sapped. It felt good to simply relax for a few hours.
But that wasn’t the real reason he was waiting.
There’d been something in Satin’s eyes when she’d talked about the baby that he’d never expected to see. Fear. He could understand confusion and suspicion and even anger. But the fear was disturbing. He didn’t like the thought that his beautiful warrior was afraid. Especially when she was carrying his child.
His child.
Marco’s stomach clenched with a sharp excitement. He had no idea what strange magic was at work. Or if it was potentially dangerous. He was simply overwhelmed with a euphoric joy that bubbled through him like the finest champagne.
Not sure whether to savor the sensation or to have his head examined, Marco was distracted by the soft sound of footsteps. With a fluid motion, he was on his feet, his inner wolf rumbling in pleasure at the sight of the female who stepped out of the cave. The moonlight spilled over her slender body and added a layer of silver beauty to her delicate features. Enchanting.
Desire seared through Marco. A desire that was unfazed when Satin planted her hands on her hips and glared in his direction.
“I can smell you, dog.”
Marco stepped forward, a mocking smile on his lips. “I’m not trying to hide…leech.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I knew Weres weren’t overly bright, but even you should be able to take a hint.”
“Actually, you’re the one who missed the hint.”
“What hint?”
With easy strides, he loped up the steep pathway, ignoring the blast of icy warning that thickened the air. He halted just inches from her rigid body.
“Don’t start something you’re not prepared to finish,” he answered.
She arched a brow. “Oh, it’s finished.”
“On the contrary.” He deliberately glanced down at her stomach, able to detect the warmth of the child inside her. “It’s just begun.”
She flinched, as if she’d taken a blow. “Marco.”
Instant regret flowed through him. She’d always seemed indomitable. As if nothing could touch her. Not even when she was screaming in pleasure beneath him. Now he was beginning to suspect she wasn’t nearly as self-assured as she pretended. Even before the child.
“Talk to me, Satin.” He reached out to grasp her hands, his movements slow and cautious. Only an idiot grabbed at a vampire who was on edge. Usually a dead idiot. “Please.”
Astonishingly, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she turned her head, as if trying to hide the vulnerability in her eyes.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Marco paused, considering how to approach the conversation. If he pressed too hard about the baby, she was guaranteed to shut him down. Probably best to circle around to the subject.
“Let’s start with what you’re doing out in the middle of nowhere,” he said. “Why aren’t you busy managing the Viper Pit?”
She shrugged. “Styx asked me to track down a missing gargoyle.”
He regarded her with genuine curiosity. “Why you?”
“That’s my skill. Once I have the…” She considered the best way to explain her powers. “The essence of a demon, I can follow them anywhere.”
Marco nodded. Each vampire had a unique talent. He’d heard that Viper could split open the earth, and of course, everyone knew that when Styx lost his temper, he could take out the entire power grid of Chicago.
“What’s so important about the gargoyle?”
“I’m not sure. She’s related to Levet, so I assume that’s why Styx is involved.”
“Levet.” Marco shuddered in horror. The miniature gargoyle had arrived at the Hunting Grounds the first week he’d opened. It had taken less than an hour for the creature to burn a hole in his new lodge with a massive fireball and cause a riot among the fairies when he claimed the nectar was being watered down. Marco had banned the gargoyle from returning, but he didn’t doubt the tiny bundle of trouble would return whenever he wanted.
“Darcy is fond of him.”
Marco’s lips twisted. The King of Vampires had one weakness. And that was his mate. He doted on the pure-blooded Were despite their differences.
“That explains the Anasso’s willingness to help,” he said. “Anything to keep Darcy happy.”
“True.”
Marco studied the elegant lines of Satin’s profile. “You tracked the gargoyle to the bar?”
“Yes.” Her jaw tightened, as if she was remembering the previous evening. “It was supposed to be a routine grab and bag.”
“What happened?”
“I cornered her at the bar, but before I could convince her to return to Chicago with me, she started babbling about a baby.”
That strange sense of joy shimmered through Marco. “Our baby.”
“I don’t know what it is,” Satin muttered, pulling her hands from his light grasp.
Marco didn’t bother to argue. She was still struggling to accept the chaos that had exploded in her life. And in her body.
“What else did the gargoyle tell you?”
There was a long silence before Satin grudgingly answered his question. “She said she sensed an evil spirit.”
A blast of fear squeezed Marco’s heart. There’d been a voice in the back of his mind whispering that there was a mysterious magic that had created the baby. Probably dark magic. But he hadn’t wanted to believe this could be anything but a miracle. Now he braced himself to have his hope destroyed.
“The child?”
“No.” She glanced back at his harsh sigh of relief. “It’s somehow attached to me.”
Marco hissed. He’d been worried about the baby, but he suddenly realized that the thought of Satin in danger was even more troubling. He didn’t have any specialized knowledge of spirits or how they attached themselves to demons, but he had no doubt they could cause irreparable harm. Maybe even the destruction of an immortal.
Something had to be done. Immediately.
“We need to return to Chicago,” he said, the words clipped as his barely leashed emotions warmed the night air. There was no way he was going to let Satin continue her errand when she was being haunted by an evil power. The mere thought made his wolf snarl in fury.
She appeared genuinely confused. “Why would I return to Chicago?”
“Your king surely has contacts in the demon world who can locate the spirit and exorcise it. If he can’t, I’m sure Salvatore can.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “No, I have to find the gargoyle.”
Marco frowned. “I admire your loyalty, Satin, but—”
“It’s not about loyalty,” she interrupted, her eyes suddenly smoldering with a cognac fire. “I think the gargoyle I’m chasing has the answers.”
“The answers to what?”
“Everything.” She cupped a slender hand over her belly. “Including this.”
Marco battled back the urge to insist on returning to Chicago. Not an easy task. He was an alpha. He barked out orders and expected them to be obeyed. In a hurry and without question.
This female, however, would rip out his throat before she’d meekly submit to being told what to do. Which meant he would have to use cunning, not brute strength, to get what he wanted.
“Okay.” He squared his broad shoulders, preparing for a fight. “Then I go with you.”
“Absolutely not,” she snapped.
If nothing else, she was predictable. And so was he.
“I can go with you, or I can follow,” he said, his tone warning he was digging in his size thirteen boots. End of story. “Either way, you’re not getting rid of me.”
Her brows snapped together. She was just as used to giving orders and having them obeyed as he was.
“Don’t you have a club to take care of?”
“I left Troy in charge.”
“And you trust him?”
Marco considered the question. He hadn’t known the Prince of Imps for long, but he’d formed very specific opinions since Troy had become the manager of the Hunting Grounds.
“With my business? I trust him absolutely,” he assured her. “With anything else? Not as far as I can throw him. Which isn’t very damn far.”
She sent him a frustrated glare. “I don’t want you to come with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I work alone,” she snapped. “I always have and always will.”
“No. You might not want to accept it, but you’ll never be alone again,” he reminded her, his voice soft, but ruthless. “Let me help you.”
* * * *
Levet wasn’t a demon who complained. Well, not unless he was tired or hungry or trudging through a landscape that was more boring than the netherworld. Or missing the latest episode of The Masked Singer.
Currently he was all of the above. And not happy about it.
To make matters worse—if that was even possible—he was traveling with Troy, the Prince of Imps.
This wasn’t their first adventure together. They’d worked together to track down a crazed vampire trying to resurrect the previous Anasso. And while they’d been successful, Troy had unfairly held Levet responsible for his debt to a power-hungry nymph who’d nearly killed him.
As if Levet could have known Cleo was a whackadoodle when he asked her for a favor.
“Try to keep up,” the imp growled, taking unreasonably long strides as they climbed the steep slope.
The imp had opened a portal near his friend’s demon club in Guthrie. From there they’d followed the trail west through Oklahoma.
Levet sniffed. “I cannot help that you have legs that are too long.”
“My legs are perfect,” Troy drawled, refusing to slow his fast pace. Levet glared up at him as he scrambled to keep up. The large creature should have looked ridiculous in his tight shirt with fringes on the arms and suede chaps. His hair was tucked beneath a cowboy hat, and his boots had spurs on the heels. Instead, he looked like true royalty as he glided through the barren darkness. It was annoying. “Yours are too short.”
“They are not short,” Levet protested. “They are pleasingly petite.”
“Pleasing to whom?”
“To Inga.”
“Doubtful,” Troy muttered, but he’d lost a small portion of his arrogance.
The imp made no secret of his admiration for the Queen of the Merfolk, or his disbelief that the female could be genuinely fond of Levet. It was the one certain way to get beneath the male’s skin.
“I would prove it if we could go and ask her,” Levet said with utter confidence.
“Go.” Troy waved a slender hand. “And don’t come back.”
That’s what Levet wanted to do. He genuinely missed Inga. But Bertha was the only relative who had ever shown him any kindness.
“I have to find my aunt,” he protested. “Besides, Styx was clearly in a pussy mood—”
“Pissy mood,” Troy rudely interrupted.
Levet clicked his tongue. “That is what I said. And it is all your fault.”
Troy halted, bending down to sniff at a rock that protruded from the arid ground.
“How is it my fault?”
“It was you who sent your employee to interfere with the return of my aunt Bertha,” he reminded the imp. “And you who insisted on going to find the stupid Were.”
“Yes, I volunteered. I certainly didn’t want a yammering lump of stone with me.”
“Fah.” Levet frowned as Troy continued to sniff. “Why are you stopping?”
“Marco was here.” The imp straightened and headed toward the peak of the hill. “He went this way.”
Levet scrambled behind Troy, his claws dislodging small pebbles that bounced down the path behind him. They once again halted, and Levet caught the icy scent of a vampire.
“Satin,” he said, easily recognizing the manager of the Viper Pit. She’d always remained aloof, but he’d caught her scent when he was visiting Viper’s cellars to inspect his very fine collection of tequila. “She must have stayed in the cave.”
“Yes.” Troy’s expression was distracted as he crouched down and touched the dirt with the tips of his fingers. “And something else.”
Levet grimaced. He’d been doing his best to ignore the echoes of malignant energy pulsing through the air. He was a big believer in pretending a problem didn’t exist in the hope it would…poof. Disappear.
“Oui,” he reluctantly conceded. “I sense it. An evil.”
Troy lifted his head, glancing around the empty landscape as if searching for an enemy. “It appears to be following them. But what the hell is it?”
Levet didn’t know. Which was odd. There were few creatures in this world or any other that he didn’t recognize. A tingle of anticipation raced through him. It was a mystery.
He adored mysteries.
“I can find out,” he promised, holding out his hand as he concentrated on the vile residue that seemed to hang in the air.
“How?”
“My magic, of course.”
“Forget it. Your magic is a disaster.”
Levet clicked his tongue. What was the matter with the imp? Didn’t he want to discover what sort of evil they were chasing? Besides, his magic was awesome.
“Do not be a bébé,” he groused, releasing a burst of power.
He expected the magic to solidify the essence of the evil, allowing him to determine exactly what sort of creature had left it behind. Instead, it hit the residue and sizzled like ice being tossed into a fire. Bracing himself for an explosion—always a possibility—Levet was shocked when he instead felt himself being tugged forward. It was like a black hole had opened up and was pulling everything inside it. Including him and Troy.
“Levet! Stop!” Troy cried out.
“I cannot.” Levet tried to grab at the nearby rock, only to be sucked off his feet and into a swirling pit that opened in the ground directly in front of him. “Sacrebleu!”