Tempting Eternity Read online

  “Because you're sneaking around on me,” she countered, standing in the hall where her volume rose a few notches in adding, “That's one of the reasons you vampires literally suck! You honestly wouldn't be so horrible if you weren't … just … not alive!”

  Finding her tirade amusing if only because she seemed so flustered, Mathias held her gaze in wait to see what she might say next. But though the fae looked intent on making sure he knew precisely why vampires were atrocious, she frowned instead and remarked, “Would you stop looking at me like that?”

  Unaware he'd looked at her in any specific way, he asked, “Like what?”

  “I don't know. You're just … looking at me funny, and it's hard to tell if you're listening or thinking about … eating me.”

  Scoffing, he directed, “You should assume I'm ready to eat you at any given moment just to be on the safe side, Isadora.”

  Such was a truth he disliked admitting because it served as yet another regret—why he had to have a lover's blood link to someone so unsuitable was beyond him.

  In the past, Mathias had yearned to find someone who'd provide such intimate companionship despite the heartache he'd suffered from losing so many children and siblings. In more recent years, he'd even reasoned that having only one daughter would make it easier to protect a lover, and if Isadora were anything besides a fae, he may have considered the possibility of forging a blood bond with her now.

  But fate had given him a connection to someone he couldn't have without killing, and the frustration was absolutely maddening.

  It almost seemed ironic in a way. How many times had he told Maddox that fate had a way of putting people where they needed to be by making them do the last thing they ever wanted to do? Now, he longed for a lengthy hibernation, ready to sleep for the next millennium if it meant eliminating the painful temptation Isadora presented.

  So if it kept her safe, or drove her away, offering constant reminders of what he was would be worthwhile no matter how much he regretted the truth.

  Still, advising her to assume he was always thinking the worst had the fae frowning, giving the impression she didn't want to believe he was nothing more than a dangerous predator. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

  Whatever the case, she remarked, “But you've saved my life, twice, which … .”

  As she trailed, he was already formulating lies about his reasons for doing so. But instead of finishing her statement, the fae's eyes abruptly widened as if surprised by some revelation he wasn't privy to before announcing, “There's a human in Rossi's room.”

  “What?”

  “Another human, a male,” she explained. “He wasn't there a second ago.”

  Mathias considered the strange remark, realizing how odd it was that someone else would be in the accommodation when they were standing at the only door available to access it.

  Such an abrupt appearance could only mean one thing—magic.

  Someone had teleported inside.

  Because Isadora said the being was human, Mathias knew it wasn't Heliger—the magician was half elven. So he turned around and opened the door to reenter the room.

  With Isadora coming to stand at his left, he learned the fae was right. Standing in the bathroom's doorway was a human clad in black with a gun clutched in a gloved hand. Initially, the weapon was aimed at Rossi, but their sudden appearance seemed to startle the intruder because he cussed and quickly pulled the trigger—in their direction.

  Thanks to his speed, Mathias could track the bullet's trajectory to see it was heading for Isadora, and immediately moved in front of her, causing the projectile to strike his chest. His upper body jerked on impact with a hole erupting in his shirt just beneath his left collar bone. Thankfully, it didn't hit his heart, otherwise he would've gone into bloodlust.

  But the injury pissed him off all the same.

  Emitting a snarl in the human's direction, his fangs sharpened threateningly—just as Isadora cried, “You did it again, vampire!”

  Snarl fading, Mathias rolled his eyes and sighed, realizing she'd take this as another sign that he wasn't as dangerous as he'd said. But there was no time to argue as, the moment the human saw his fangs, he cussed and hastened to use a transit stone clutched in his free hand.

  Too late.

  Using his speed, Mathias knocked the stone out of his grasp and onto the floor, getting the distinct feeling this man was working for Sylva.

  And it was time they got some solid answers.

  — TWELVE —

  Isadora had never seen anything so contradictory in her life. Only moments after telling her to assume he was always thinking of causing her harm, Mathias saved her from that very thing—for the third time in two days.

  And this time, he'd put his own safety at risk.

  Not that it seemed to bother him. Isadora wasn't even certain where the bullet struck his body. There was no exit wound, and he'd merely jerked in response to the injury.

  But regardless of whether it caused him pain, it certainly seemed to piss him off.

  Instantly, the vampire growled at the gunman, apprehending him so quickly the act took a moment to process. But Isadora soon caught on, and looked down at the floor when the sound of clattering hit her ears to spy a transit stone skidding to a stop at her feet.

  Reaching down for the translucent quartz, she lifted it while briefly glancing at Rossi to find the human still unconscious on the bed despite the commotion—unsurprisingly. He was already inebriated, and under her influence, he'd sleep soundly for the rest of the night.

  So she ignored him in favor of approaching the man Mathias had pinned to the wall, his cheek flattened against the stucco with both arms secured behind his back in an unbreakable grasp.

  Stopping only to grab his weapon, which had landed on the floor close to where they stood, Isadora looked at the human and asked, “Who are you?”

  Grunting in a fruitless attempt to free himself, he replied, “Don't bother asking. Your fae charm won't work on me.”

  He spoke the words with confidence, prompting Isadora to share a look with Mathias before inquiring, “Why not?”

  In response, the intruder remained stubbornly silent. But though an answer was preferable, his refusal to speak offered Mathias the chance to state, “This human came to keep Rossi silent over what he knows because there's a chance Sylva doesn't believe you're dead, Isadora. The fae who tried to kill you would've told her about my interference, so Sylva likely cast some kind of spell to make him resistant just in case you came looking for information.”

  That certainly made sense. If Sylva could control a fae, then it wasn't a stretch to think she could also make a human resistant to their charm. As for the insinuation that Sylva sent this man to ensure Rossi's silence, Isadora had entertained the possibility on the way to the hotel, but dismissed it.

  She'd been free of Sylva's control for about two days now, making it seem as if an assassination attempt would've already occurred. Still, considering Rossi was on vacation, they'd probably had to track the captain down, meaning she and Mathias were lucky to find him first.

  So Isadora motioned at Mathias and told the man, “Fine, if I can't charm any answers out of you, then maybe the ancient vampire at your back knows of a way to persuade you. You shot him, after all, so he probably needs blood to heal anyway.”

  “I do,” Mathias confirmed, his fangs still sharp as he lifted one hand to jerk the man's head aside and expose his neck.

  And somehow, the aggressive action sent a shudder through her body.

  But she had no time to focus on it, listening when the human retorted on a strained, but determined voice, “Go ahead, I won't compromise what I've worked so hard to achieve.”

  “And what are you trying to achieve? What does Sylva want?” More insistently, Isadora added, “How many of my sisters is she using?”

  Head still forced aside at Mathias' hand, the human's blue eyes met her face uncertainly. Perhaps he didn't think answering that ques
tion was a large security risk, but whatever the case, he stated, “Including you, she took five. The others are two sun fae, a moon fae, and a storm fae, and I swear she hasn't harmed them, nor does she intend to.”

  “Hasn't harmed them?” Isadora echoed disbelievingly. “She stole our free will and commanded one of my sisters to kill me!”

  “There was no other choice,” the human countered. “You told her about the magic wards on Dalris Dra'Kai's belongings, and the only way to steal the staff was to break open the case and let it knock one of you unconscious. But she couldn't risk your survival, knowing you might try to interfere just as you're doing now.”

  Isadora sneered at the human, unable to recall telling Sylva any of this. But she probably would've qualified whatever information the witch requested without qualm, from the security measures Dalris had taken with his home, to the identities of anyone she knew working for Victoria's spy network.

  Still, that didn't explain what Sylva wanted with the staff, or how she knew it was in Dalris' private gallery from the start. But the latter didn't matter as much as the former, and Isadora demanded, “What is that staff? Why does she want it?”

  In response, the human remained silent, which wasn't surprising. Even in the face of certain death at Mathias' hands, he'd proven to be protective of Sylva's cause.

  Regardless, there wasn't a chance to get more information from him before a knock came to the door with another man outside stating, “This is security. We've received some noise complaints.”

  Realizing a human officer was outside, probably called in by a guest staying in an adjacent room who'd overheard the commotion, Isadora sighed while Mathias grumbled under his breath. Even the intruder rolled his eyes—neither of them wanted to deal with a human security officer ignorant of the supernatural.

  But they at least had options, and Isadora asked Mathias, “Can you take him somewhere in mist while I get rid of the officer?”

  Surprisingly, he replied, “No, vampires can only transport someone in mist if they're unconscious, or willing to go.”

  “Really?” she asked, wishing there was more time for questions.

  But another, more insistent knock came to the door, and it would likely be the last before the officer used a key.

  The thought almost prompted her to suggest Mathias just knock the man unconscious, but as soon as her lips parted, Heliger's Third Eye floated inside through the open door of the balcony.

  No bigger than a tennis ball and hovering about three feet above the floor, the eye turned on them, watching with an iris the same color as Heliger's orange orbs—and Isadora wasted no time approaching it.

  Crouching down, she said, “Heliger, we need you to come and teleport the three of us ASAP. I'll explain the rest once you're here.”

  The eye didn't respond—naturally—but it did vanish, burning away from sight a split second before the magician appeared in the same spot.

  Simultaneously, the door's lock clicked, the latch turning as the officer walked inside to find a drunken ship captain snoring on the bed, blissfully unaware of the four who'd just teleported from his room to the hotel's rooftop bar.

  Because it was after hours, no one was presently enjoying the patio sporting numerous cushioned lounge chairs settled around a sizable pool. Such solitude allowed Isadora to explain everything to Heliger without interruption, starting by repeating every word this intruder had uttered so far, and ending with Rossi's vague testimony.

  “The captain didn't have much to say except that he was paid to organize transportation for Sylva, and also overheard talk of a temple in southern Egypt. I have no idea what temple it is, but I'd be willing to bet money this transit stone that human dropped will take us to it.”

  “Perhaps,” the magician returned, requesting the stone before approaching the human still being restrained by Mathias.

  Standing before them both, Heliger told the vampire, “You should escort Isadora back to the Spire. In the meantime, I'd be more than happy to extract information from this mortal.”

  Proving he trusted Heliger, Mathias agreed without pause, stating, “Very well. But first, I need a drink.”

  At that, the vampire turned his head to sink his fangs into the gunman's neck with an inhuman growl.

  Though the man let a sharp yelp, he soon grew silent—and still. Vampire bites paralyzed mortals, and this one was no exception, falling limp in Mathias' hold before slumping over against the floor once the vampire released him.

  The effect wouldn't last long, but it offered Heliger enough time to do as he pleased.

  Isadora's attention was fixed on the vampire, however, blood still dripping from sharp fangs he licked clean, then leashed—and it seemed odd. She'd always imagined vampires gloating after a feeding, or at least basking in their victim's helplessness with a smug smirk.

  Yet Mathias only motioned at the human and told Heliger, “He's all yours.”

  Nodding, the magician reached down and took the human's wrist in hand, then disappeared from sight, teleporting to an unknown location.

  Simultaneously, Mathias looked into the collar of his shirt to check the gunshot wound that left a gush of blood staining the material.

  Curious, Isadora asked, “Did feeding help it heal?”

  “Yes, the bullet's coming out now,” he answered, reaching in to remove the projectile before tossing it aside.

  Glad to hear it, she put her mind back on current affairs and inquired, “So where do you think Heliger took that man?”

  “There's no way to tell. But I do know he won't take long to get the answers we need.”

  Considering the magician's devotion to finding Sylva, that was a given, and she almost felt sorry for the mortal. The power at Heliger's disposal was a good indication that the human's immediate future wouldn't be pleasant, particularly if he resisted.

  Still, she didn't think on the situation for long, distracted when Mathias walked over to offer a hand and say, “Let's go.”

  Isadora stared at his outstretched hand, hesitating to take it. Being alone with Mathias seemed just as strangely awkward as before, yet it offered another chance to ask the same question she'd posed in Sutrelle—and knowing now that a vampire couldn't carry someone in mist unless they were willing made it possible to refuse to leave until he answered.

  So she started, “First, I'd like to know something.”

  “What?”

  Waving a hand in his direction, she continued, “You keep telling me to expect the worst from you, but in the past two days, you've saved my life three times. Why?”

  Mathias thoughtfully held her gaze, though he didn't seem to put much thought into his answer in retorting, “Technically, I only saved your life once.”

  “I'm not being technical, but fine. I'll chalk the second two times up to you simply wanting me to hold my end of our bargain. Even still, what about the first time? You could've taken my blood, but you didn't.”

  Mathias exhaled, allowing his hand to fall back to his side as if realizing they weren't returning to the Spire as soon as he wanted, and his expression grew annoyed.

  “Why do you keep asking me that? What could I possibly say that you'd believe?”

  She hated to admit it, but he had a point. If he said he'd only helped her because it was the right thing to do, she would've questioned his sincerity.

  Or at least, she would've two days ago.

  Now, things didn't seem so cut and dry. There was more to this vampire than met the eye, prompting her to state, “I don't know what to believe, Mathias. I just find it hard to imagine a vampire who wouldn't even sample the blood of an unconscious fae, especially when she's already bleeding.”

  Mathias groaned, looking away as if considering some serious issue. But though he took a moment this time to formulate an answer, he wasted none giving it—and she didn't know what hit her.

  Without warning, the vampire quickly reached out and grasped her wrist, then tugged her in until their bodies pressed together. A
shiver swept through her in response as he locked her in place and pinned her gaze with those intense, silver eyes.

  Being this close to him, they seemed luminous, even as he stated darkly, “Then perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to imagine how much I regret not taking your blood when I had the chance, or how tempted I am to correct my misguided decision.”

  With that said, he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing hers in adding, “So forgive me if I'd rather not discuss topics related to drinking that saccharine nectar you call blood, but I find you irresistible in more ways than one, little fae, and disciplined as I may be, I'm not without limits.”

  Isadora stared into his eyes, frozen in place—but again, it wasn't fear that held her so motionless.

  It was uncertainty.

  How was she supposed to react to that? Push him away? Demand he let go? His statements were a clear reminder of their location outside the Spire, after all. She was no longer protected by the sanctuary's peace pact, and the fact that she'd forgotten was a perfect example of her lack of fear.

  Instead of cowering, she was prodding this ancient vampire with issues that might tempt him to cause her harm, and despite the dangers doing so, found herself even more curious now than before over his answer.

  “What do you mean I'm irresistible in more ways than one?”

  As if the question was unexpected, Mathias stared down at her uncertainly. Perhaps he'd believed she would struggle to get away from him—after all his warnings about the danger he posed to her life, it wasn't hard to imagine he'd only grabbed her and said those things to prove it.

  Whatever the case, his gaze dipped to her mouth, his lips parting wordlessly, and she didn't understand why. There was something in his expression she couldn't quite place, a look that gave the impression of wanting to kiss and … Wait.

  Isadora's eyes widened as realization dawned. He wants to kiss me! Maybe … more than that?

  Having no personal experience with such physical desires made it difficult to know if her assumption was accurate. She couldn't sense him from the start, let alone determine the state of his body or potential arousal, which compounded her doubt.