Could he truly want . . . an understanding? Whatever the hell that meant.
“Why would you want that?”
Another awkward pause. “It is difficult for me to admit, but it’s possible we have become too isolated as a people.”
She remained suspicious. Who could blame her? So far Sariel had been clear that she’d been created for one purpose. And it wasn’t to be his loving daughter.
“I thought that was the whole point of leaving here?”
He shrugged. “It was, but after meeting you I believe there’s something to be said for variety. And for—”
“What?”
“And for having a connection to the world beyond our borders.”
She sensed he had a point. She just couldn’t figure out what it was.
“What sort of connection?”
His gaze abruptly lifted, the amber eyes shimmering with hints of jade.
“You.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
He seemed to search for the proper words. “You could be a diplomat between our world and this one.”
She jerked in shock.
A diplomat? Her?
It was a career she’d never considered.
She had no skill with languages, no personal charm, not to mention the fact she tended to become a smartass when she was feeling defensive.
Not the sort of characteristics that would win friends and influence people.
On the other hand, she was one of the rare few who possessed the blood of a Chatri who was also of this world.
That did make her . . . unusual.
“Oh.”
Sariel held her gaze. “Would you like that?”
“Yes.” Sally widened her eyes in surprise as she felt an unmistakable surge of anticipation. She might not fit among the Chatri, but she could offer them something no one else could. “Yes, I think I would.”
“Good.” With a triumphant smile he grasped her hand. “Let us go.”
It was the abrupt burst of colors that warned Sally her father meant to leave immediately.
She tried to tug her hand free, but this time her father refused to loosen his grip.
“Wait—” she protested, but it was too late.
Already the swirls of magic were dancing around her, sucking her into the portal and away from Roke.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leaving Styx to deal with his endless duties as Anasso, Roke headed directly into the moon-drenched gardens.
He wasn’t intending to stick his nose into Sally’s private meeting with her father. That would be . . . wrong, wouldn’t it?
But, if his lazy stroll happened to take him in the same direction of his mate, then he couldn’t help if he happened to overhear their conversation.
A fine plan that was interrupted by the blond-haired berserker who almost instantly joined him near a marble fountain.
Cyn had proven to be invaluable help when they’d arrived at Styx’s lair with a gaggle of terrified fey. While Troy had been busy contacting the family members of the recently returned prisoners, Cyn had not only revealed a surprising kindness as he’d urged them to their various rooms, but he’d also managed to contact several local fey who brought food and clothing that were specifically designed to make the nearly comatose fey feel at home.
He was dressed similar to Roke in faded jeans and tight black tee, although Cyn chose shitkickers instead of Roke’s knee-high moccasins.
As usual he’d braided the front strands of his long hair and tied them off with metal beads, while he had his favorite dagger strapped to his upper leg and a handgun holstered on his hip.
Never let it be said Cyn didn’t know how to rock the screw-with-me-and-die vibe.
They walked in silence until they neared the marble grotto in the center of the garden.
“So you’ll be returning to your clan?” Cyn abruptly demanded.
Roke grimaced. It was a discussion he’d been putting off.
“Once Sally is comfortable with the idea,” he said.
Cyn sent him a knowing glance. “You think that might be a problem?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What if it is?”
Roke shrugged. His decision had been made.
“Then I hand the position to Kale. He’s a competent leader who I trust to protect my people.”
Cyn came to a sharp halt, a blatant horror etched onto his bluntly chiseled features.
“You would walk away from your clan?”
Roke stopped beside his friend, folding his arms over his chest.
“Without hesitation,” he admitted. “Nothing is more important to me than making Sally happy.”
Cyn gave an exaggerated shudder. “Better you than me.”
Roke laughed. Only weeks ago he’d been nurturing a sense of outrage at being stuck with Sally as his mate for all of eternity.
Even when he’d known in the depths of his heart that he was never, ever going to allow her to escape.
Fate seemed to have a peculiar sense of humor.
“Your mate is out there,” he warned his friend. “And chances are you’ll find her when you least expect it.”
“Don’t be trying to curse me.” Cyn made a hasty sign to ward off evil. “I’m a vampire who fully embraces his freedom.”
Roke smiled wryly. Well wasn’t that the truth?
“By freedom you mean big-busted nymphs?”
Cyn waggled his brows. “Or fairies. Or sprites. I’m not choosy.”
“No shit.” Roke rolled his eyes. “Will you be leaving for Ireland?”
“Aye. I . . .” The vampire frowned as Roke went rigid and his power shook the ground. “Roke?”
“Goddammit,” Roke growled, racing toward the nearby gate as fear exploded in the pit of his belly. “Not again.”
Cyn kept pace beside him, pulling his gun as Roke’s temper shattered the marble benches to dust.
“Tell me what’s going on,” the clan chief commanded.
Roke could barely speak, a dark panic threatening to cloud his mind.
“Sally.”
“She’s hurt?”
“She’s gone.”
Cyn was wise enough to avoid the stone archway as it crumbled into a pile of rubble, instead following Roke as he smoothly vaulted over the high fence and headed into the nearby woods.
“Gone where?”
“I don’t know,” Roke snapped, his senses spreading through the neighborhood for any hint of his mate. “She was here one minute and gone the next.”
Cyn muttered a low curse. “Could it have been a portal?”
“Yes.” Roke skidded to a stop, bending down to touch the ground that was still warm from the magic. “Here.”
Cyn closed his eyes as he tested the air. “The Chatri.”
“Goddamn that bastard.” Roke straightened, wishing he’d left the King of the Chatri trapped in the Nebule’s prison. He’d known as soon as he’d met the arrogant ass he was going to be trouble. “He stole my mate.”
Cyn shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable. “Roke, you can’t be sure.”
Was he kidding? Roke shook his head.
“There are no other scents beyond Sally and Sariel. He had to have been the one who took her.”
“I’m not suggesting he wasn’t the one who formed the portal.”
Roke narrowed his gaze. “Then what are you saying?”
Cyn grimaced. “Maybe it wasn’t a kidnapping.”
Common sense warned Roke that his friend had a point. It wasn’t, after all, the first time that Sally had disappeared. Hell, it wasn’t even the second time.
But he wasn’t currently listening to common sense.
He was listening to his heart that whispered Sally wouldn’t abandon him.
Not without speaking to him first.
“Sally wouldn’t have left me.”
Cyn carefully considered his words. Wise vampire.
“Sariel is her father.”
Roke shook his head. “He’s a selfish bastard who destroyed her dreams of finding a family who actually cared about her.”