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Bound by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy [79]

By Root 435 0
done anything to earn his way into a more luxurious afterlife.

But he hadn’t expected Hell to include a throbbing head and the sensation of sharp rocks digging into his back.

And he sure the crap hadn’t expected to be tormented by a stunted gargoyle who was leaning over him and smacking him in the face.

“Hello,” the damned demon screeched in his ear, slapping his cheek. “Are you in there?”

Hell or no Hell, Ariyal wasn’t going to endure being pummeled by Levet. At least not lying down.

Surging to his feet, he grasped the pest by his horn and dangled him high enough to meet his furious glare.

“Are you out of your mind?” he roared. “You hit me again and I’ll turn you into a bowling ball.”

“Sacrebleu.” With a flap of his wings, Levet broke free of Ariyal’s grip and was floating to land on the stony ground. “I thought you were going to sleep away the entire night.”

“Night?” Ariyal scowled as he glanced around the dark, barren cavern. “It was dawn... .” The sudden memory of dawn and what that meant to him drove Ariyal to his knees as the weight of his grief threatened to crush him. “Shit.”

Levet moved to his side. “What is wrong?”

“Jaelyn,” he rasped in raw pain, pressing his hand to the center of his chest where he could still feel her presence.

Seemingly oblivious to his pain, Levet gave a small shrug.

“She’s not in the caves. Trust me, I searched everywhere. She seems to just have disappeared.”

He shuddered. “Not disappeared.”

At last sensing Ariyal’s distress, Levet gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Non. Impossible.”

Ariyal lifted his head at the gargoyle’s absolute certainty, a dangerous flare of hope flickering deep in his heart.

“I watched as the wizard opened a trap door to expose her to the dawn,” he said, rubbing that spot in his chest that whispered his beautiful vampire still lived.

The demon remained stoically unconvinced. “You were there?”

“No.” Ariyal gave a slow shake of his head. “He showed me a vision.”

“And you believed him? Imbecile.”

“Careful, Levet.”

“Do you not see? It had to be a trick.”

A trick?

But the vision had appeared all too real, the voice of common sense whispered in the back of his mind. And the gargoyle had admitted himself he hadn’t been able to find the Hunter.

Still ... the wizard was capable of all sorts of nasty deceptions.

How hard would it be to conjure a vision revealing what he wanted Ariyal to believe?

Yes, of course.

That had to be it.

Ariyal eagerly shoved aside the knowledge that he was grasping at straws.

No matter how illogical, he desperately needed to cling to the gargoyle’s assurance that Jaelyn had survived.

Because if he truly accepted that Jaelyn was dead, then he might as well curl in the nearest corner and wait for his own death.

He had no choice but to believe in miracles.

Yep, he truly was an imbecile.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded, fiercely forcing himself to concentrate on the one thing he could control for the moment.

Escaping from the cavern.

Slowly, like a man coming out of a nightmare, he straightened, his hand instinctively reaching to make certain his sword was still strapped to his back.

When he felt the familiar hilt that had been crafted specifically for his hand, he didn’t know whether to be relieved to have his weapon or insulted that Tearloch assumed he could be so easily defeated.

“Ah.” Levet’s expression brightened as he gave a flap of his gossamer wings. “It is truly quite an amazing story. I have had such adventures.”

Ariyal held up a silencing hand. “Just the facts, gargoyle.”

The tiny demon responded with a raspberry. “And I thought vampires were rude.”

“Don’t press me.”

“Fine.” His tail twitched in outrage. “If you will recall I was in pursuit of the curs who attacked Jaelyn.”

“Not really.”

Ariyal shrugged, crossing the floor to run his hands over the smooth stone of the cavern.

Only to flinch back in pain.

Shit. Behind the thin layer of stone was a wall of pure lead that was sucking his power with a ruthless speed.

“Well, I was,” Levet continued, predictably indifferent to Ariyal’s discomfort.

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