Jaelyn growled low in her throat. “Bring it on.”

Laylah lifted her brows. Odd. But then, what wasn’t odd about the entire encounter?

As if to add to the confusion, Sergei took a wary step forward.

“Dammit, why are you arguing with them?” he rasped. “Let’s go.”

Ariyal’s expression hardened, his eyes remaining trained on the female who blocked his path.

“Stand aside,” he commanded.

Jaelyn folded her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Jaelyn,” Tane warned softly, pointing a warning finger toward the mage who was chanting beneath his breath.

Laylah grasped Tane’s arm as she felt the stirring of black magic in the air.

“Tane, please,” she pleaded. “We can’t let him escape.”

Her mate lifted his sword, his beautiful face set in lethal lines.

“He won’t.”

Ariyal sidestepped toward Sergei, his arm held out as he clenched and unclenched his hand. Laylah braced herself, assuming he was conjuring a spell. Which just proved it was true about the whole “assume makes an ass out of you and me” thing.

Instead, a slender ash bow appeared in his hand, complete with a wooden arrow that she would bet her last nickel would be magically replaced the moment it was shot.

Hell of a trick.

And one he was swift to use to his advantage.

With one smooth motion the bastard had his weapon pointed at Tane.

“Stay back,” he warned, his gaze narrowing as Laylah stepped in front of her mate.

A wooden arrow would hurt like a bitch, but it wouldn’t be fatal. At least not to her.

“Laylah, be careful,” Tane muttered.

“He’s not leaving with my babies.”

“I agree, but let’s not provoke him into something stupid.”

She shot a frustrated glance over her shoulder, meeting Tane’s resolute gaze.

“If he takes the babies through a portal we’ll never catch him.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Tane assured her.

“Arrogant leech,” Ariyal mocked and Laylah turned back in time to see him reach for the mage.

Her heart came to an agonizing halt, but before he could create a portal there was a blast of icy power and Jaelyn was slamming into the Sylvermyst at full speed.

Although Tane had obviously been expecting the attack, Laylah was caught off guard. Unfortunate since the damned mage chose that moment to launch a spell in their direction.

A scream was wrenched from her throat as Tane grasped her arms and shoved her to the side, saving her and taking the full brunt of the spell.

She cursed, her knees making painful contact with the hard ground. Swiftly she scrambled to her feet, her heart in her throat as she caught sight of Tane flying through the air to land with a bone-rattling force against the side of the tunnel.

Muttering her opinion of vampires who always had to play the hero, Laylah stumbled to where he leaned heavily against the wall.

Distantly she was aware of Jaelyn battling with the Sylvermyst and the mage trying to edge toward escape, but Laylah couldn’t concentrate on anything but her wounded mate. “How badly are you hurt?”

He caught her hand that she was skimming down his chest in search of injuries, lifting it to his lips.

“Nothing that won’t heal,” he assured her, his voice thick with pain.

She gave a twist of her hand, pressing her inner wrist against his lips.

“Drink,” she commanded.

He hissed, his head abruptly lifting. “No time, my sweet.” “What do you …”

Her words came to an abrupt end as she caught the scent of herbs. Not Ariyal, but another Sylvermyst. And close.

She reached to pull the handgun from Tane’s pocket, sensing that Jaelyn and Ariyal had brought a sudden end to their battle as they too caught the scent of the approaching intruder.

Lifting the gun, she pointed it at the tall, copper-haired Sylvermyst that stepped into view, praying that Tane had loaded it with silver bullets.

“Tearloch,” Ariyal growled, the shock in his voice genuine. “I thought you left.”

The fey moved with liquid grace to wrap an arm around Sergei’s neck, pressing a dagger to the mage’s temple.

“I returned to right the wrongs of the past,” the Sylvermyst said, his voice harsh and his gaze locked on Ariyal. “We were led astray by those who lost the faith, but we have paid our debt and it is not too late to return to the fold. Come with me, brother and we will free our kin.”

Laylah’s brows snapped together.

Tearloch sounded like a bad actor out of a B-rated movie, but she wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss him. There was a fanatic glint in the sterling silver eyes and a savage expression on his slender face.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she informed the fey, giving a wave of her gun on the off chance he’d missed seeing it aimed at his head.

At the same time Ariyal stepped forward, his face a mask of arrogant command.

“There is no erasing the past, Tearloch. If you release the Dark Lord he will destroy us all.”

The younger fey shook his head, obviously lost in his dangerous delusions.

“We will be his saviors,” he breathed.

“No.” Ariyal’s voice held the authority of a natural leader. “We will be nothing more than traitors that he crushes beneath his heel. The Dark Lord never forgives or forgets.”

Tearloch briefly wavered, his metallic eyes shifting from Ariyal to the others gathered in the tunnel. Then, with a sharp shake of his head, he was dragging the terrified mage down the tunnel.

Laylah’s heart squeezed with terror as she belatedly caught sight of the shimmering portal the fey had already created. Shit. A few more steps and he would disappear with Sergei and the babies.

“You know nothing,” the Sylvermyst was accusing Ariyal, his scent of herbs edged with the putrid taint of madness. “The Master has whispered the truth in my heart.”

“The only truth is that we’re doomed to a slow, painful death if the veil is ever opened,” Ariyal said with a grim certainty.

The fey gave another tug on the mage, one step closer to the portal.

“Then that will be our destiny.”

Sergei gave a small moan, his face a pasty white. “Someone do something.”

Ariyal lifted his bow, pointing the arrow at his fellow Sylvermyst.

“With pleasure.”

“Stupid, mage,” Tearloch hissed, pressing the dagger deep enough to draw blood. “Your only hope to get off this mountain is me.”

Realization struck Sergei at the same moment that Ariyal launched the arrow. The mage squeaked, then muttering a swift spell, he managed to knock the speeding arrow aside at the last minute.

Laylah grit her teeth. Dammit. She felt like she was in a French farce. Only without the humor.

Keeping her gun trained on the Sylvermyst, she tracked his struggle to yank Sergei toward the portal, but she didn’t pull the trigger. She was an excellent shot, but she wasn’t perfect. What if she hit one of the babies?

Thankfully, Tane didn’t have to hesitate.

With a hair-raising growl, he launched himself forward, his sword slicing through the air and his lips curled back to reveal his massive fangs.

Tearloch hissed in fear as he watched the very large, very pissed-off vampire barreling toward him, but once again Sergei was muttering frantic words of power.

Tane had nearly managed to reach them when he ran into an invisible wall. With a grunt of pain, he bounced backward, the sword flying from his hand.

“Tane.” Laylah instinctively stepped forward, only to halt as the mage held the babies high over his head.

“No.” His voice was harsh with fear as the fey continued to drag him toward the portal. “Stay back or I’ll kill them.”

“Dammit,” Ariyal cried from behind her. “Stop him.” Yep, it had to be done.

Her gaze locked with the mage’s and time seemed to halt.

Peripherally she was aware of Ariyal moving forward with Jaelyn hot on his heels. Of Tane slamming his hand against the invisible barriers. And most importantly, of Tearloch stepping through the portal, tugging Sergei in his wake.

But her concentration was centered on Sergei and the babes who screamed in his hands. Fear slammed into her, making it impossible to breathe. She had to act. And she had to act now.

Sending up a prayer, Laylah squared her shoulders and pulled the trigger, aiming directly at the center of Sergei’s chest.

Bam.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening as it echoed through the vast tunnels, making her ears ring and a shower of tiny stones land on her head. Holy crap. She’d never shot a gun in such a confined space. It wasn’t an experience she intended to repeat.

Worse, Sergei managed to dart to one side, avoiding a direct shot to the heart.

Bastard.

Of course, in the nanosecond he had to move, he couldn’t entirely avoid the speeding projectile. And it had at least managed to penetrate the invisible barrier.

He shouted in pain as the bullet ripped through the flesh of his shoulder, tearing his muscles and forcing him to drop one of the babies. Laylah’s heart lodged in her throat, but the screams of the child assured her that it was still alive.

Grimly she aimed again, squeezing the trigger just as the mage disappeared into the shimmering swirl.

There was an unpleasant shift in the air pressure as the portal popped shut, and the magical barrier that the mage had conjured disappeared.

Cursing, Laylah scrambled forward to scoop the baby off the hard floor, cradling the child to her chest as Tane swiftly joined her, wrapping a protective arm around the both of them.

“Is he hurt?” Tane rasped, his large hand stroking with astonishing care over the baby’s tiny head.

Laylah ran a frantic gaze over the delicate body, wincing at the small abrasions and numerous bruises that bloomed on the pale white skin. But she could detect no serious injuries and as the child snuggled into her arms, the tears slowly halted to be replaced by a smile that quite literally melted her heart.

Maluhia.

Her son.

She knew it with a certainty that nothing could change.

Just for a moment she savored the feel of his warm weight and sweet scent that had been disguised by the stasis spell. This was the baby she’d always sensed, but now she could physically feel. The steady beat of his heart, the soft, satin skin, the downy hair on his head.



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