“Fine, deny the truth. It no longer matters. This game is about to end.”
“What game?” Wynn shook her head. “I think you’ve made a mistake. I—”
“Shut up,” the demon rasped, abruptly leaning forward as a familiar metallic scent floated through the air. “What is that?”
Wynn’s heart missed a beat. She knew exactly what it was. The sharp male scent belonged to one person. Or more precisely, one dragon. Her personal pain-in-the-neck stalker who finally decided to make his appearance.
Better late than never,she silently acknowledged, even as she forced herself to lift her hands and press them against the demon’s chest. She was not only anxious to get some space between them, but she didn’t want the creature to realize that Azh was lurking in the shadows.
“What are you doing?” She shuddered as a sickening sensation crawled up her arms. It was warm, but not the welcomed warmth she felt when she touched Azh. This was more like the hotness from a fever. A fetid virus that she desperately wanted to wash off. “Ew. Stop sniffing me.”
“I told you to shut up,” Malis snapped, turning his head toward the front of the dungeon as the ground shook. “Azh.” The name came out like a curse. “That dragon is beginning to annoy me. Once I’m done with you I intend to devote special attention to his destruction.”
Wynn curled her fingers into the thick material of the man’s robe, frantically trying to keep him from moving.
“No.”
The burning green gaze snapped back to stab her with an intense glare. “You’re right. I can’t be distracted,” Malis muttered. “We still have business to finish.”
Wynn pressed herself against the wall as Malis reached up to grab her chin with his bony fingers. He pressed hard enough to leave bruises, but Wynn didn’t struggle. The demon might look frail, but she wasn’t deceived. There was no way she could physically overpower him.
“Why did you run from me?” he cooed, his breath putrid, as if he were rotting from inside out. “We need each other.”
Wynn battled back the urge to panic. She was no longer in the past. She had magic she could use, right? Or at least, she had magic if it was willing to cooperate. Recently that was a fifty-fifty shot. Still, there was no way to know until she tried.
Blocking out the creepy demon who was now stroking his fingers over her cheek, Wynn concentrated on the threads of magic that twirled deep inside her. As always the crimson strand was the largest, as if demanding that she tap into the mysterious power, but for once, it wasn’t the magic that floated closest to the surface.
Wynn had almost forgotten the hex that she’d absorbed from Pheral’s dagger. Not surprising considering she’d been attacked by an emaciated demon with glowing green eyes and transported to the past. But now she reached for the tainted power, grudgingly allowing it to flow through her veins with a grimace.
At the moment, all she had was bad choices. As much as she hated releasing the evil power, it was the best she had.
Closing her eyes, Wynn blew out a shaky breath, then with grim determination, she twirled the hex into a tight ball of magic. Once it was squeezed as compact as possible, Wynn released the hex with one powerful blast.
She didn’t know exactly what curse was contained in the hex, but she was hoping it was a crippling pain that would momentarily incapacitate the demon. Or at least send him stumbling backward. Something that would give Azh the opportunity to enter the dungeon without being immediately attacked.
But as usual, the crimson strand of magic decided to interfere, and instead of a condensed burst of power, she sent out a tidal wave of energy that lifted the demon off his feet and slammed him against the ceiling before dropping him back onto the stone floor. At the same time, the nearby cells shattered into lethal shards of iron that sliced deep into the demon’s flesh. He looked like a bloody pincushion as he sprawled on the floor, but the green magic glowed as strong as ever in his eyes.
* * * *
Azh stormed down the shallow stairs dug into the bedrock. He’d entered the sprawling castle near the cliffs of Dover just moments ago, easily catching Wynn’s scent as he’d burned his way through the heavy wooden doors guarded by two large demons. Nothing but ash remained in his wake, ensuring that the remaining guards were quick to toss themselves out the nearest windows.
They might not recognize the creature with an aura that glowed like the sun and fire that blasted from his fingertips, but they understood they were going to end up crispy critters if they were stupid enough to stand in his way.
Next to him, Saxton strolled with an elegant grace, still wearing his suit and tie as he allowed his own icy power to sweep through the vast estate. Vampires and dragons were natural adversaries, but for now they were tied together by a common enemy. Which meant the leech had not only sent out his minions to discover the current location of Sir Pheral Gardner, but he’d personally agreed to join in the rescue of Wynn.
Whether Azh wanted his help or not.
Ignoring the male who coated the walls with frost as they passed, Azh leaped forward, landing on the stony ground. Just ahead was an open door leading to what looked like a dungeon.
“Wait.” Saxton was abruptly standing in front of him. “You can’t just charge in there. This could be a trap.”
Azh shoved the leech to the side. “I don’t care.”
With a speed not even Azh could match, the male was once again standing in the center of the narrow tunnel.
“I always suspected dragons were all brawn and no brain,” Saxton hissed.
“We have fire in our veins, not ice.”
