Dark Bound Read online

  “Oh, swell,” said Tyrius, sounding a little bored. “It’s the brooding vampire.”

  Sure enough, from the shadows rushed Danto, head of the Vampire Court here in New York City. Yes, he was a brooding vampire, but he was still gorgeous.

  I sheathed my blade as I took him all in. He was barefoot, as always, and dressed in black slacks. His unbuttoned black shirt billowed behind him like a cape as he went, revealing his muscular bare chest and porcelain-like skin. He moved with a predatory grace, but he also had the traces of gentle elegance of the high born. He was ambitious, clever, beautiful, bold—and lethal.

  He angled his head, his long black hair shifting with the movement and gleaming like oil, counterbalancing his pale skin. Those gray eyes sparkled in the moonlight as they fixed on me, making my pulse quicken. I couldn’t help it. The vampire was just way too pretty.

  Danto gave me a tight smile, nothing like the playful way he’d smiled at me before, with his full and very sensuous mouth. The pain of losing Cindy was still visible in the lines around his eyes and the tightness of his lips. His chiseled face looked older, and her death clearly still haunted him.

  My chest clenched when I thought of Cindy and how she died. Guilt and regret still pulled at my heart that we couldn’t save her. But it was nothing compared to the visible pain and suffering on the vampire’s face. He wore it raw.

  Still, a flutter of disappointment washed through me. It wasn’t Jax. I’d sent Jax a text from my phone last night to tell him about my meeting with the faerie queen of the Dark Court, but I hadn’t heard back. In fact, Jax hadn’t returned my one phone call a week after Vedriel’s death. I wasn’t going to be that girl who kept on calling. I called and left a message. If he didn’t call back, well, I could only guess at the reason why. He’d gotten what he wanted out of me, and that was solving the angel-born murders. It was a one-time-only, and now he was gone from my life. Perhaps forever. I had to start getting used to the idea.

  Now I felt stupid that I had actually texted him. Great.

  I watched the vampire as he closed the distance between us, wondering how he’d known we’d be here.

  Danto’s gray eyes met mine. “I heard you were coming to Mystic Quarter to meet with the faerie queen of the Dark Court,” he said, as though he read my mind. Creepy.

  I thought of the group of vampires I’d just seen watching us. “Nothing gets past you, huh?” Had his vamps been tailing me?

  Danto shook his head, a hint of a smile on those perfect lips. “Not in Mystic Quarter, no. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” His gaze turned intense. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Thanks, but there’s really no need,” I said, feeling the warmth of gratitude spreading around my chest. “I’ve got Tyrius for backup.”

  “Damn straight,” said the cat, looking smug.

  Danto kept his eyes on me, making me a little uncomfortable. “No.” His voice was final. “I’m coming with you.” He raised his hand and my protest died in my throat. “You’ll be the first angel-born to ever set foot in that… that place. Whatever job she’ll offer you is not just a job. It never is. You can’t trust her. You can’t believe anything she says.”

  I stared at the vampire, wondering how he knew about the job offer as well. “I thought faeries couldn’t lie.”

  “That’s a load of BS,” laughed Tyrius. “It’s more along the lines of they can’t tell the truth.”

  “I know her,” continued the vampire. “She has a way of twisting her words to make you do things you never wanted, never thought you could do. She’s evil, really evil.”

  Frowning, I thought it strange that this old vampire would call another half-breed evil. I mean, he drank blood, for God’s sake. And I’d heard and seen some of the wicked things Danto had done in the past. If he thought she was evil…

  “Isobel likes to play her games,” Danto said simply. “She gets rather bored in her tower, day after day. She likes to be entertained.”

  I scowled. “Well, I’m not here to entertain her.” My thoughts of the queen coalesced into irritated anger.

  “There’s something in it for her. Always is.” Danto’s gray eyes darkened, as though holding on to some distant, horrific memory. I wondered if it was because she had vexed him somehow. “Don’t think for a minute this is just another mark, another hunt. It’s not.” The vampire’s hands were clenched into fists. “But know it’s something else.”

  It was an odd thing to feel such warmth and coddling from a vampire, when my blood could be his meal. No doubt, it was even stranger for me to sense any affection, loyalty, and friendship. Because it was creeping up on me.

  After killing the archangel Vedriel together, we had all bonded—the four of us. It was inevitable after sharing an experience like that. We couldn’t just kill a lieutenant from Horizon’s army and go home afterwards for some afternoon tea. Something had sparked in us, and I knew at that moment we’d be changed forever, marked with the blood of an archangel on our hands.

  Wisps of his hair moved in a sudden breeze, and his face was shadowed, but real concern shone in his eyes.

  Damn. I was starting to like this pretty vampire—in a platonic way, of course.

  I shrugged. “But why? You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to come.”

  The vampire looked away. “You’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to Cindy again.”

  Awkwaaard.

  He was silent for a moment and then turned his attention back to me. “We’re friends. As strange as it sounds, we are. Sylph Tower isn’t safe. You need me with you both,” he glanced at Tyrius.

  The cat turned his face up at me, blue eyes gleaming. “I agree with the vampire. Three of us going to meet her royal-faerie-ass is much better than just the two of us. Danto says he knows her, and that could turn out to be handy… if she tries to stiff us.”

  “Okay then,” I agreed. “Let’s go.” Tension crept along my spine as the three of us made our way towards the black tower. Danto’s sudden appearance was flattering, but it also ticked me off a little that he thought I couldn’t handle Her Highness on my own. We’d see about that.

  Tyrius made an ugly sound in his throat to get our attention as he sauntered between Danto and me. “Vampire. What’s up with you and the not-wearing-shoes part? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with something on your feet.”

  I stifled a laugh at the shocked expression that crossed Danto’s face. He looked down at his feet as he walked. “I don’t like having my feet confined. I prefer to feel the earth under my feet.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see you wearing shoes either.”

  Tyrius’s mouth fell open. “I’m a cat.”

  “You’re a demon.”

  The cat’s shoulders rose and dropped. “Same difference.”

  I pushed my nerves and my discomfort down and replaced them with the semblance of calm as we came up before the heavy wooden door. Silver and gold symbols were etched into the door, framing it like artwork in the language of the fae.

  I looked at Danto. “How do we get inside? There’s no handle.”

  “The non-fae can’t enter without permission,” said the vampire, and a muscle from his jaw feathered as though he was struggling with something. “The door is spelled. Only those who were invited can enter. You knock. And then you wait.”

  “Faeries,” grumbled Tyrius as he sat back and curled his tail around his feet. “Always feel the need to make things overly complicated.”

  I sighed long and low. “I’m starting to regret coming here.” Raising my fist, I noticed that it was shaking lightly. I pounded on the door, harder than I had intended.

  We didn’t have to wait long. Less than twenty seconds after I’d knocked, the door swung open to reveal a male faerie as tall as Danto with gangly limbs, pointed ears, and long raven hair. Green skin peered through his fae tattoos. I could smell the stink of rot and sweet candy rolling off of him, making my stomach churn. His cruel, pitch-black, depthless eyes met mine and held th
em.

  A curved crossbow was pointed at my face, which really ticked me off. If he thought he was intimidating me with that thing, he was wrong.

  I flashed him a smile that would make Amber proud. “Get that crossbow out of my face before I make you eat it.” The male faerie’s face was expressionless as he stood there without moving, gazing at me stonily, so I continued. “Put that damn thing down,” I said again. “I’m here to see Isobel your queen. Rowyn Sinclair? She’s expecting me.” I looked over his shoulder, but all I saw was a corridor that ended in shadows.

  The green faerie’s eyes moved between Tyrius and Danto. “Just you,” he said to me, his voice deep and rough as he lowered his crossbow.

  Tyrius jumped to his feet and growled. “Whoa—wait a faerie-flipping moment! Rowyn is not entering this fae-infestation without us. You can just forget it.”

  “Uh, right, what he said.” I gestured towards the Siamese cat as I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head. “Your choice. Either my friends come with me… or you can tell your little queenie that you turned me away. Not sure she’d like that since she invited me.”

  The faerie smiled at me, revealing slightly pointed teeth. “Angel-born female,” he murmured, running an eye over me. “We’ve not seen one of you in Sylph Tower before.”

  I grinned. “Lucky me.” Tyrius snickered as I uncrossed my arms and stood with my hands on my hips. “I don’t have all night. Are we in or not?”

  Without another word, the faerie gave a nod of his head and motioned for us to follow him.

  I tapped the hilts of my blades with my fingers. I might have been going to my death, but I wouldn’t arrive weaponless.

  As soon as I crossed the threshold, I felt the cold, demonic energy from the faeries coursing into the room and throughout the tower. I could sense the intensity of their presence much more sharply than when I had wandered through the streets of Mystic Quarter. It was as if the energy had somehow become more concentrated, filling up the air, the ground, and even the walls surrounding us.

  I felt like I was walking through a cave with low ceilings and tight spaces. Even the cold air had a faint moldy smell. Sconces lit with the green flames of demon fire lined the walls, casting hues of green throughout the corridor. The passage was deadly quiet except for the soft tread of our boots, feet, and paws, and the relentless pounding in my ears. We moved silently through a smooth-walled hallway etched with more of the same ornate fae writing along with images that portrayed faeries and demons in various scenes of battle. The same female fae was depicted over and over—battling a giant winged demon, cutting the head off what looked like a short-legged and squished face goblin, and lying in bed with many human men. Queen Isobel, no doubt, but I couldn’t get a good look at her face without better light.

  I had the feeling we were moving in a circle, a very big one. The floor was hard-packed dirt, and I thought it strange that it wasn’t marble or some other elaborate polished stone that shimmered like jewels. Faeries loved to show off.

  The male faerie never looked back as he led us through the cave-like maze. He had the same superior strut as the other male faerie who’d stolen my demon shifter mark.

  I wonder if he’d get mad if I tripped him?

  “Smells like regurgitated food in here,” said Tyrius. “Or maybe it’s Spam?”

  “No, I think it’s just the way faeries smell—like vomit.” I smiled as I saw the faerie’s shoulders tense, but he never looked back.

  After a minute, a crack of brighter green light spilled through the semi-darkness. Two enormous stone doors rose before us, ancient, and etched with the same silver and gold faerie language that was painted on the front door. A cacophony of voices came from beyond the doors.

  My pulse quickened, and I was beginning to regret my decision to meet with the fae queen. We strode through the doors and into a vast, circular chamber of carved limestone supported by four pillars whose tops disappeared into the darkness above.

  Dark green vines with roses bursting in whites, reds, and pinks twined around the pillars. The male faerie led us down a path lined on either side with crabapple and apple trees in full blossom. Daisies, purple cone flowers, lavender and countless more roses were interspersed with the trees. The room was filled with green light, and I felt like I’d just stepped into a lush garden, not some cylindrical, butt-ugly tower.

  Through the trees, I spotted crowds of faeries, some of them dancing to a low beat of drums, some milling about chatting, some sprawled on the ground—but all had their eyes on me, on us. There must have been at least a hundred faeries. I felt a spike in my blood pressure as I forced myself to keep my pace even. There was no way in hell I would show these faeries the effect they had on me.

  Everything was a blur of black eyes, pointed teeth and fine clothing. Their faces were lovely, yet feral and thin, always too thin.

  A dais stood before us, and lounging on a red couch surrounded by an assortment of lanky male and female faeries was a woman. No. Not a woman. A faerie queen.

  “My Queen,” said our escort, bowing low. “I have brought the Hunter and her… companions.”

  Our escort seemed to shrink back, as though he wasn’t worthy to be in his queen’s presence. But the queen didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were on me.

  Slowly, the queen slid up straight. Both sides of her head were hairless, and from the middle part of her head spilled tresses of raven hair down past her waist, like a Mohawk. She was nothing like I’d imagined. She was far, far worse.

  Though parts of her face could be considered lovely, her snow-white skin was pulled and stretched too tightly over her sharp features, making her more petrifying than beautiful. Maybe it was the look she was going for—queen of the walking dead.

  Her neck was just a little too long—as were her arms, legs and fingers—to pass for a human, almost insect-like. She wore a black gown that slipped and shifted with her movements like oil but no jewelry that I could see. A pale crown was woven through her hair above her head, and the more I stared, the more the crown looked like teeth. Flat human teeth. Damn. She was insane.

  Her ebony eyes shone with a calculated coldness, and they were still fixed on me.

  Fear slithered through me, but I pushed it down at the starkness of her expression. If she saw, smelled, or even just sensed my fear, I was a goner.

  The air shifted behind me as I felt Danto’s shoulder brush up against mine. I exhaled slowly. Never had I been happier to have a blood-sucking vamp so close to my jugular before.

  The queen’s eyes fell on Danto, and for a moment, her bulging red lips lifted into a sneer that was truly terrifying. Her dark eyes flashed with the hatred of some past history before her attention flicked back to me. Then just as quickly, she smoothed her features back into that brash, aristocrat demeanor.

  “Rowyn Sinclair,” purred the faerie queen, her voice silky and venomous like a snake’s. “Glad you could come.”

  6

  I stood there, momentarily silent, holding the queen’s gaze. There was no way in hell I would look away first. I knew how to play this game.

  The corners of her mouth twisted at my defiance, her gaze shifting to the assembled faeries at the sound of boots treading against earth. I pulled my attention to my left as six male faeries stepped from the crowd and came to a collective halt before the dais, bows in their hands.

  I recognized the tall, pale faerie male that killed my shifter demon. Bastard. He stood with his bow clasped in his hands before him, no doubt waiting for a sign from his beloved queen to shoot an arrow through my chest. I tried to get his attention, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  The queen caught me looking and her ruby lips stretched into a terrifying smile.

  That pissed me off. Tendrils of tension squeezed my chest, and all my warning flags went up as I heard Tyrius’s deep growl.

  I cocked an eyebrow at the queen. “I thought I was a guest here,” I said, glad my voice came out leveled and strong, even though my
stomach was in turmoil. “Is this,” I gestured to the armed faerie males, “how you treat your guests? If so, you can kiss your job goodbye.” I pulled out my gold coin, and after inspecting my Spaniard one last time, I tossed it in the air. It made a loud clang as it landed at the queen’s feet. I had good aim, one of the many perks of having supernatural essence.

  “Nice throw,” whispered Tyrius as the fae that surrounded the queen hissed their outrage at what I had just done. I bit my tongue to keep myself from laughing—because that would get me in some seriously deep doo-doo.

  The twinge of indignation on the queen’s pallid face almost made me smile. Hell. It felt good to piss off a queen. I should have done it sooner.

  The queen turned to the armed males and said something to them in a language that sounded both guttural and musical. As a collective, five of the six males broke away and disappeared under the crowds of faeries. That left only my blond faerie friend.

  “Daegal is the commander of the Dark Arrows, my personal guard and trusted advisor. He will stay,” said the queen, her lips curling to show pointed white teeth. “Better?”

  Better? We were outnumbered about fifty to one, and she knew we could do nothing against all of them. Still, not having all those bows staring me in the face did loosen some tension.

  I gave the queen a tightlipped smile. “Better.” What the hell am I doing here?

  The queen’s eyes dropped to my hip and widened. “A death blade. So, the rumors are true,” she said, a mixture of irritation and slight coating her voice. “You are part demon. How interesting.”

  Interesting? “So it seems.” I matched her smile, not liking how she was looking at me as though wondering how my flesh would taste in her mouth.

  Tyrius pressed his body against my leg and whispered, “Did you spy that crown on Her Majesty’s head?”

  “Yup.” I stifled a shiver as I pulled my eyes from the creepy human-teeth crown and looked straight at the queen. “Why am I here? Your guard—Daegal—said you had a job for me. What is it?”