“How can we find out more about this coven?” he asked, his voice as cool and steady as ever.

With an effort, she forced herself to turn and meet his pale, guarded gaze. “I doubt that we can.” She hesitated. She’d been taught from the cradle never to speak of the coven’s private business. It wasn’t a simple matter to overcome a lifetime of conditioning. “Witches are by nature secretive and they would have made sure that their private records were protected by a nullifying spell.”

“What’s that?”

“A spell that would be activated by their death,” she reluctantly explained. “When they died their records, letters, and any personal information would have been destroyed.”

He frowned, seemingly bothered by her words. “Except the book.”

Oh. He was right. A book that was so dangerous it had to be hidden by black magic was precisely the sort of thing the witches would have made certain was destroyed rather than allowing it to fall into the hands of their enemies.

“Yes,” she said with a slow nod.

“Why?”

A good question. Perhaps even a dangerous question.

She chewed her bottom lip, unaware of Roke’s covert fascination with the unconscious habit.

“We won’t know until I break the spell guarding it,” she at last announced.

With a speed that was too swift for her to track, he was standing only inches away, his hands grasping her face so he could scowl down at her.

“No.”

“No?” She told herself it was surprise at his abrupt approach that made her heart thunder in her chest and not the cool touch of his hands against her face. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“You’re not going near that book until we find out more about what killed the coven,” he growled. “And why.”

She stilled. “You think the two are connected?”

“We’ve already determined that I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Then surely it’s all the more important that we find out what’s in the book?”

“No.” The pale eyes shimmered silver in the muted light, a hint of fang showing. “I don’t care if I have to lock you back in the dungeon. You’re not returning to that warehouse.”

Summerset House

Santiago led Nefri down the back steps of the club, already sensing the vampires filling the public rooms. The word of Nefri’s arrival had clearly spread like wildfire and every demon in the area was rushing to catch a glimpse of her.

Thankfully Gabriel had foreseen the impending crowd and had moved Levet to a secluded room beneath the garages with two armed guards outside to make sure of their privacy.

Perhaps a bit of overkill, but Gabriel was notorious for his detailed attention to his guests’ comfort, predicting their every need. Just as Santiago was renowned for providing his guests with every wicked pleasure they could desire.

Using a hidden tunnel to travel from the house to the garage, they took the staircase down to what once had been a human bomb shelter.

The small square of cement was hardly designed for comfort, but Santiago fully approved of the fact it was secure, with no opportunity for their conversation to be overheard.

Not only because they needed to discuss the next step in their hunt for Gaius, but because he didn’t need his fellow vampires seeing him in the company of the stunted gargoyle who was impatiently pacing the floor when they entered the room.

“Ah, at last,” the creature muttered, his tail twitching as he came to an abrupt halt. “I have been waiting forever.”

Santiago rolled his eyes, well aware that it had been less than a half an hour since Gabriel informed them that Levet had arrived at the club. Nefri, however, was swiftly moving forward to pat the tip of his wing.

“Forgive us, Levet.”

The ugly little face lit with a sudden smile. “How can I stay angry? You are forgiven, ma belle.”

Santiago noticed there was no mention of forgiveness for him.

“Thank you.” Nefri smiled. “Did you have a reunion with Yannah?”

Levet heaved a tragic sigh. “Non. She was . . . unavailable.”

“Ah.” Nefri gave the delicate wing another pat. “Just be patient.”

“Fah. I have been oh-so patient, but for what?” Levet spread his arms. “Heartache.”

Santiago took an impatient step forward. He’d been forced to let the ridiculous creature trail along, but he drew the line at discussing the gargoyle’s love life. “You told Gabriel you had some vital information that couldn’t wait,” he said in sharp tones.

Expecting the usual raspberry or a rude finger gesture, Santiago found himself frowning when the gargoyle instead gave a somber nod of his head.

“Oui.”

Okay. This couldn’t be good.

“What is it?”

“Shay contacted me.” Levet tapped a claw to his temple, indicating his ability to speak mind to mind with the Chicago clan chief’s mate. “She said that Viper was unable to reach you.”

With a muffled curse, Santiago reached into the pocket of his jeans to pull out his cell phone, not at all surprised to discover the battery had been drained.

Sex with Nefri was not only the most explosive pleasure he’d ever experienced, but it tended to create havoc with electronics. Oh, and created the most dazzling displays of color.

“Dios,” he muttered, aggravated by his dangerous lapse. He should have checked his phone the minute he climbed out of bed. “What’s happened?”

“There was a disturbance at your club.”

He frowned. That was why Viper was trying to contact him? It didn’t make sense. “There’s always a disturbance at the club. Tonya can handle it.”

“Actually . . .” Levet’s wings drooped, a disturbing expression of sympathy on his ugly face.

Santiago shoved the phone back into his pocket, his muscles rigid with a sudden tension. “What?”

“She’s been kidnapped.”

He heard Nefri’s soft exclamation of shock, but his focus never wavered from the small demon. “Tell me.”

“One of your waiters called Viper and said that a vampire simply appeared out of thin air in the middle of your club.”

He hissed. Only two vampires could appear out of thin air. And he’d been in the constant presence of one of them.

Which left . . .

“Gaius,” he growled. “Mierda.”

Levet nodded. “Oui. He appeared and grabbed Tonya. Then”—he gave a helpless lift of his hands—“poof. They were both gone.”

Just for a second his savage burst of fury threatened to cloud his mind. Tonya in the hands of that demented freak? Perhaps even now chained to a wall while he tormented her?

The cement walls shuddered and the fluorescent lights shattered before Nefri laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Santiago,” she murmured softly.

Leashing his powers with an effort, he met her sympathetic gaze. “Why?” he rasped.

She continued to rub his arm in a soothing motion. Trying to tame the rabid beast?

“Why Tonya?” she asked.

“Sí.” His fury remained, but Nefri’s touch gave him the calm necessary to consider the situation with a much needed clarity. Tonya needed a swift rescue, not her employer ranting and raving. “It makes no sense. Why would he take such a risk to snatch an imp from my club?”

Nefri nodded, easily following his logic. If Gaius was going to risk being captured, why choose Tonya?

“Does she have any special talents?” Nefri asked.

Santiago shrugged. “She’s related to Troy, the pain-in-the-ass Prince of Imps, so she’s capable of creating hexes powerful enough to ensnare even demons and, of course, she can create portals along with the usual imp talents.”

Levet waddled forward. “Does she know secrets?” He pointed a claw at Santiago. “Have you been—what do they say—cooking the books?”

Santiago glowered at the small demon. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Levet blinked. “We were guessing why she was kidnapped, were we not?”

“No, she doesn’t have any secrets,” Santiago snapped. “At least none she shared with me. She’s an organized, highly effective assistant who has the beauty of a siren and the soul of an accountant.”

“You trust her?” Nefri carefully inquired.

“Absolutely,” he growled without hesitation, well aware of what she was implying. “Tonya would never betray me. I would stake my life on it.” He gave a restless shrug. “Besides, if she was working with Gaius why would he reveal their connection now? There’s no benef it.”

She nodded, but her expression remained troubled. “How long have you known one another?”

“Several decades.”

“And you’re”—she searched for the word she wanted—“close?”

He sent her a startled glance. “What are you asking?”

“I’m not behaving as a jealous lover, Santiago,” she gently assured him.




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