It was Brandel who was forced to take all the risks.
“I can’t just leave.” He spoke the protest out loud. “Siljar already knows I traveled away from the caves.”
Pain lanced through him, nearly jolting him out of his corporal form.
“That wasn’t a request.”
Brandel flinched, but he wasn’t stupid enough to strike back.
Raith had been in close contact with their prisoner for centuries. His ability to absorb such magic had given him a power that Brandel couldn’t hope to match.
Not unless . . .
He deliberately squashed the dangerous thought. At the moment he wasn’t alone in his mind.
Instead he held up his hand that was beginning to show a hint of translucency.
“I need to feed.”
“Feed, then take care of business.”
The words echoed in his mind as the mist disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared.
Brandel studied his fading hand, his thoughts returning to the box that held the sort of magic that offered possibilities he’d never before considered.
Dark, treacherous thoughts.
“Mine,” he whispered softly.
Chapter Eight
It took almost two hours to reach the wharf that was built on a bleak stretch of rocky beach and another quarter of an hour for the boat to navigate the rough waves. But at last they reached the small island just off the coast.
Tugging the hand of a reluctant Sally, Roke led her past the weaves of illusion that fooled the human eye into believing there was nothing more than an abandoned lighthouse on the island and entered Pandora’s Box.
Instantly they were surrounded by a soaring Greek temple filled with amphitheaters where naked water sprites danced and heated baths came complete with beautiful nymphs.
As they entered the massive foyer, toga-clad slaves appeared before them, offering glasses of champagne or, for him, a sip of blood from their throat. Most vampires preferred their drinks straight from the tap.
Roke hastily waved them away, sensing Sally’s swelling fear.
She had every reason to distrust vampires and he’d just brought her to a place filled with dozens of his brothers, all indulging in their most primitive desires.
Unfortunately for her, it was the one place close enough to meet with Cyn where they could be assured of safety.
Nothing would be capable of slipping past the defenses that surrounded the island. Both magical and physical.
As if to prove the point, an exquisite blond vampire sashayed into the foyer, her lush body barely covered by her gold lamé toga and her porcelain face beautiful enough for an angel. But the near-black eyes were hard and merciless as she scanned her surroundings.
Bliss had once worked for Viper in his Chicago club, and the lethal predator had proven a talent for creating an atmosphere that had demons flocking to enjoy the entertainments. She’d also revealed an innate cunning that Viper was swift to appreciate.
He’d given her a small fortune and told her to create a fantasy.
An order she had more than fulfilled.
Crossing the marble floor, Bliss allowed a smile to curl her lips.
“Hello, gorgeous,” she murmured, her low voice an invitation to sex as she slid her cold gaze toward Sally. “Did you want your dinner cleaned and put in costume? She would make a pretty enough slave girl.”
Sally stiffened, outrage overcoming her fear. “Slave girl?”
He placed an arm around her. Not only from the need to publicly claim her as his property, but to keep her from doing something impulsive.
His mate was just crazy enough to launch a spell that would wreak havoc and end up getting them both killed.
“We aren’t here for the entertainment,” he informed Bliss, not surprised when she strolled forward to run a crimson-painted nail down the leather of his jacket.
He’d crossed paths with the beautiful vampire several years ago and she’d made it clear she wouldn’t say no to some up close and personal attention.
“Are you sure?” She parted her lips to expose her extended fangs. “I do private shows for very special customers.”
He grasped her fingers that had roamed beneath his jacket, his expression hard with warning.
“I need a private room and a human dinner,” he commanded, glancing toward Sally who was staring at the far wall with a fierce pretense of indifference. “With apple pie.”
Bliss scowled, not pleased at being rebuffed.
It didn’t happen often.
Probably never.
“I have no idea if we have apple pie or not.”
He allowed his power to rattle the priceless marble statues set in shallow alcoves.
“Order out.”
Realizing he wasn’t playing, Bliss went from offended female to gracious hostess.
“Your wish is our command.” Turning with a fluid grace, she headed toward a pair of fluted columns that opened into a hallway. “This way.”
“Has Cyn arrived?” he demanded, his arm remaining around Sally’s rigid shoulders as he urged her to follow Bliss’s brisk pace.
“Yes, he’s enjoying the baths.”
Roke rolled his eyes. Typical. Cyn was a born hedonist who indulged his varied passions whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He would have to fetch the vampire and bring him to Sally, even if it did mean leaving her alone.
There was no way in hell he was exposing her to the sight of dozens of vampires lost in their bloodlust.
Pushing open a door, Bliss stood aside to wave them into the room that reflected the theme of a Greek villa. A circular space, it had an abundance of marble with fluted columns and a domed ceiling that was painted with a half-naked Pandora opening her box to release chaos.
Thankfully, the stark room was furnished with several white sofas circling a crackling fire that burned in a pit in the center of the marble floor.
Sally should be comfortable enough while he went in search of Cyn.
Turning toward the female vampire who hovered near the door, he allowed her to glimpse the predator inside him that would destroy anyone or anything that threatened his mate.
“This woman is under my protection. I would be very displeased if anything were to happen under your watch.”
“She’ll be safe,” Bliss promised, sliding a cunning glance toward the pale-faced Sally before returning her attention to him. “You, however, might get a little roughed up before I’m done with you.”
The husky promise was still floating in the air as Bliss closed the door, leaving him alone with a female who had already threatened to turn him into something nasty.
Slowly turning, he met her icy glare.
“A friend of yours?” she demanded in overly sweet tones.
“No,” he denied without hesitation.
He wouldn’t play games, not with this.
“She acts like she knows you very well.”
He shrugged. “Our paths crossed several decades ago. I wasn’t interested then, and I’m not interested now.”
She glanced down at the music box clutched tightly in her hands. “She’s very beautiful.”
He stepped forward, his fingers cupping her chin to tilt back her head. His brooding gaze swept over her fragile features, lingering with regret on her guarded expression. She wouldn’t soon forgive or forget his rejection.
“But she’s not you.”
Her eyes darkened. “I would think that was a big fat bonus.”
“Never.” His thumb brushed her lower lip. “I want you. No one else.”
She frowned in understandable confusion.
Shit.
He was worse than an angsty teenage girl.
Logic told him to keep her at a distance, but his instincts refused to obey. He was desperate to pull her into his arms and offer her the comfort she needed.
“Roke—”
“You’ll be protected here,” he interrupted. One disaster at a time. “Bliss might be a pain in the ass, but she wouldn’t be in charge of Viper’s club unless she was one hundred percent loyal to him.”
He turned back toward the door, pulling it open.
“Wait.” Sally took a step forward. “Where are you going?”
“To find Cyn.”
“Shouldn’t I go with you?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Have you ever been in a vampire club?”
She grimaced. “Of course not.”
“Then trust me, you’ll be happier waiting here.”
“Why?”
“There are . . . activities I doubt you would approve of.”
“Oh.” Her eyes narrowed. “And that’s the only reason you want me to stay here?”
His face hardened to a grim mask, as he abruptly realized that it wasn’t just her virtue he was trying to protect. It was his peace of mind.
The mere thought of parading her through a crowd of amped-up vampires was enough to make his inner demon snap and snarl.
“No, I don’t want other males to see you.”
She looked offended. “Are you ashamed to be seen with a witch?”
“No, I’m damned well not ashamed,” he growled. “I’m protecting what’s mine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that one accidental touch and they would be dead.”
“Oh.” She blinked, her mouth parting at his brutal honesty. “That’s . . . crazy.”
His gaze lowered to the sensuous curve of her lips. Lips that had driven him to paradise only hours ago.
And that swiftly he was hard and aching.
“You’re mine,” he rasped.
“Don’t say things like that.”
He gave a humorless laugh as he shoved up the sleeve of his jacket to expose his mating mark.
“You claimed me as yours, my love. Now you can deal with the consequences.”
Without giving her time to respond, he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.
For a long minute he hesitated, caught by the scent of peaches that filled the air.
Had the fragrance grown richer? More provocative?
His fangs extended, his body aching to return to her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and shatter the barrier that he’d placed between them.
Instead, he gestured toward the hovering vampires who’d obviously been sent by Bliss to stand guard.
“Nothing gets past you,” he growled in warning, waiting for their nods before he headed toward the back of the long building.
Eventually the marble floor was replaced by beautiful ceramic tiles and the air filled with a damp heat.
Toga-clad servants lined the walls, offering a smorgasbord of food and drinks and nubile young bodies.
At Pandora’s Box, everything was on the menu.
He stepped through a double set of columns to enter the formal baths, bypassing the public orgy that was currently occupying the main bath, which was the size of an Olympic pool, and heading toward the more private rooms.
He at last located Cyn in a corner room that offered a view of the moon-kissed waves that swirled around the island and the star-spangled sky.
In the middle of the orange and black mosaic tiled floor was a shallow pool. At the moment it was surrounded by a hundred candles flickering in the cool breeze that swept through the open windows.
And in the center of the pool was a large vampire surrounded by two buxom nymphs.
Roke halted at the edge of the pool, giving a shake of his head.
Cyn, clan chief of Ireland, was an impressive sight.
Six-foot-three with a powerful chest and the thick muscles of an ancient berserker, Cyn had a thick mane of dark blond hair that flowed halfway down his back except for the front strands that had been woven into tight braids that framed his face.
His features were blunt with a square jaw and high cheekbones. His brow was wide and his jade green eyes heavily lashed. Some might consider his mouth too lush for a warrior and his nose carved in an arrogant line, but few would mistake him for anything but a ruthless killer.
His skin was a perfect alabaster with a series of ancient Tuatha Dé Danann tattoos that curled and swirled in a narrow green pattern around his upper arms.
Leaning against the edge of the bath with his naked body sprawled beneath the blue water, Cyn had his arms around the two equally naked nymphs who pressed their impressive breasts against his chest.
Both females were blond, but one had the usual blue eyes of a nymph while the other had gray eyes.
Never let it be said that Cyn wasn’t an equal opportunity hedonist.
The Irish vampire smiled, displaying a set of pearly white fangs.
“Roke, welcome.”
“Cyn.” Roke shifted his gaze toward the gray-eyed nymph who was batting her lashes in open invitation. “Am I interrupting?”
“Join us,” Cyn murmured, his voice deep and laced with an accent that hadn’t been heard in Ireland in over a thousand years. “There’s plenty to go around.”
“A generous offer, but we need to talk.” Roke folded his arms over his chest, his expression stoic. “In private.”
Cyn rolled his eyes. “You always were a party pooper.”
Roke arched a brow. “Party pooper?”
“Stick in the mud. Killjoy. Sourpuss.”
“Not all of us enjoy drunken orgies that include glimpses of your hairy white ass.”
“I have a fine ass,” the vampire protested, smiling toward the blue-eyed nymph. “Fiona here can’t keep her hands off it.”
Roke shrugged. “I prefer my pleasures be enjoyed with less water and fewer spectators.”
Cyn gave a sharp laugh. “Fair enough.” Rising to his feet he gestured to bimbo one and bimbo two. “Take a break, lassies.” Waiting for the females to reluctantly straighten, he laid a smacking kiss on Fiona’s pouting lips. “Don’t go far.”
With shrill giggles the nymphs hurried from the room, not bothering with clothes.
Roke grimaced. “How do you stand the noise?”
Cyn reached for a heated towel, wiping the water from his massive body.
“Didn’t you see those titties? Who the hell cares about giggles when you can have those as your personal plush toys?”
Roke was briefly assaulted by the memory of Sally’s slender body and breasts that fit in his hands with delicate perfection. Who wanted plush toys when you could have masterpieces?
He shivered, trying to ignore the hunger stirring deep inside.
“You never change,” he muttered.
Cyn narrowed his gaze, his amusement fading. “You have.”
Yeah. No shit.
“Get dressed and I’ll take you to the box.”
“What’s the point in putting on clothes?” Cyn shrugged. “I doubt I’ll shock anyone in this place and I intend to return to finish what I began with the nymphs once we’re done.”
Roke stiffened, the ground giving a tiny quake. “The point is you’re not getting anywhere close to Sally until you’re fully clothed.”
“She hasn’t seen a naked vampire?” Cyn unwittingly took his life in his hands as he stepped toward the door. “Maybe I should . . .” Roke was moving before he was even aware of what he was doing, pinning the massive vampire to the wall with one hand clenched around his throat. “Bloody hell,” Cyn rasped.
“I’m not entirely stable right now,” Roke confessed, his bloodlust simmering just below boil. “Don’t push me.”
Cyn scowled, his own power sending warning sparks of pain through Roke’s fingers and down his arm.
“So it’s true,” he growled. “That witch forced you into a mating.”
“It’s . . .” Roke dropped his hand, suddenly feeling weary. “Complicated.”