Bound by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy [29]
Fate couldn’t be so cruel as to condemn her to an eternity being squashed beneath an infuriating Sylvermyst. Could it?
Pretending that the earthy scent of herbs wasn’t teasing at her senses and that the hard, male body wasn’t cloaking her in welcome warmth, she pressed her hands against his chest.
“Get off me,” she muttered, giving a shove to roll him off her aching body.
Ariyal landed on his back with an awkward flop and Jaelyn belatedly realized the explosion had knocked him well and truly out. With a startled curse, she rose to her knees, swiftly scanning the room as she prepared for the next attack.
An attack that thankfully never came.
A glance was enough to discover the Sylvermyst and his pet spirit had disappeared along with Sergei. Thank-freaking-God. It was bad enough to be surrounded by magic-users without adding in a weird-ass spirit who would give anyone nightmares.
She allowed her senses to filter through the house, assuring her there was nothing lurking in the shadows before she returned her attention to the man who lay unnervingly still beside her.
He wasn’t dead. She could hear the steady pump of his heart and the soft rasp of his breathing, but it was obvious the magical blast had injured him.
“Stupid show-off. Like I need you to play He-Man,” she muttered, annoyed by the vivid memory of him jumping on top of her, shielding her from the massive explosion.
When was the last time someone had tried to protect her? Never.
That was when.
And the fact that this man had done so should have annoyed her, not made something warm and mushy bloom in a secret part of her unbeating heart.
Infuriated with her peculiar behavior, with the Sylvermyst who was making her freaking nuts and the situation that she couldn’t control, she leaned over her unconscious companion and laid a hand against his throat, allowing the steady beat of his pulse to reassure her nagging concern.
“Ariyal,” she hissed. “Dammit, wake up.”
Nothing.
Not so much as a twitch.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Her fingers moved to trace over his starkly beautiful features, something perilously close to fear churning through her stomach as she wondered just how badly he was injured. “I should leave your sorry ass to rot here.”
Even as the words left her lips, Jaelyn was scooping her arms beneath the Sylvermyst. She didn’t know where she was going, but she couldn’t linger at the townhouse.
Not when the Three Stooges might decide to make a sudden reappearance.
She rose to her feet with a fluid motion. Ariyal was heavy, but her innate strength gave her the ability to sling him over her shoulder as she headed out of the room and down the curved staircase. Unfortunately, he had a good eight inches on her, and considerably more bulk, which was going to make toting him around London more than a little awkward.
Reaching the bottom of the steps, Jaelyn paused as she caught the unmistakable scent of granite coming through the front gate.
Gargoyle?
It wouldn’t be that uncommon in London. There was a large Guild in the city. But they didn’t usually stroll up to the door, did they?
Hastily Jaelyn cloaked herself as well as Ariyal in the thick shadows only a Hunter could create. So long as she didn’t move there was no demon who could detect her presence.
Prepared for a lumbering monster, Jaelyn froze at the sight of the tiny demon who stepped across the threshold.
Well, she’d gotten the gargoyle part right, she wryly conceded. There was no mistaking the gray, grotesque features and stunted horns. Or the long tail that was lovingly polished. But she wasn’t sure the Guild would claim this three-foot version with large, gossamer wings in shades of crimson and blue.
Levet.
The last time that Jaelyn had seen the miniature gargoyle had been in Russia where he’d helped Tane rescue her from the cave where Ariyal had left her tied and guarded by Yannah while he went to destroy the babe.
Perhaps sensing that he was being watched, the gargoyle halted in the center of the foyer, his tail twitching as