Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Jayla had once jumped off a cliff on the coast of Ireland to avoid a pack of angry werewolves who’d caught her alone. For endless moments, she’d soared through the air, feeling a strange sense of unreality. It was like flying, only with the knowledge that a devastatingly painful landing awaited at the bottom of the cliff.
That’s what it felt like as her hungry gaze drank in the sight of Azrael.
For seven hundred years, she’d mourned the death of this vampire. As if he’d been a vital part of her life and had been ripped away. And worse was the knowledge that she had struck the killing blow. Now, she soared on a dizzying sensation of hope combined with a sickening fear that this was all a hideous trick.
Telling herself that she was searching for some sign of a hoax, she allowed her gaze to roam over Azrael’s fiercely beautiful features, silvery hair still cut short, and piercing blue eyes. There were a few differences. He had a large diamond that flashed in his earlobe. She didn’t recall it being there during their first meeting. And he wore a sweater that covered his broad chest and the magnificent, winged tattoo on his back. A shame. Really, really a shame.
At last, her gaze settled on the jade pendant dangling from his slender fingers. That wasn’t a hoax. It was real, and it was hers. She caught her scent on the fragile necklace. So, who else could have it but Azrael?
Accepting that there was a faint possibility that he was telling the truth, Jayla held tightly to her skepticism. Just like leaping off a cliff with the knowledge she would have a painful landing.
“If you wanted a bargain, you would have approached me at the hotel. There was no need to kidnap me,” she pointed out.
His brows lifted, seeming confused by her words. “Kidnapped? Is that what you think happened?”
Was he joking? Her brows snapped together. “I was snatched off the street, blindfolded, and forced to come here against my will. By definition, that’s kidnapping.”
“You were snatched off the street to rescue you from an ambush, and you were blindfolded because I’m not prepared for you to know the location of my temporary lair,” he explained in smooth tones. “You did, after all, kill me the last time our paths crossed.”
She flinched at his casual reminder of their previous encounter, but she forced herself to concentrate on his explanation.
“Ambush? What ambush?”
A muffled beep sounded, and Azrael shoved his hand into the pocket of his black slacks to pull out his phone. He glanced at the screen, an expression of satisfaction settling on his lean face.
“Ah. Just in time.” He surged to his feet. “Follow me, and I’ll answer all your questions.”
Jayla frowned, a dark premonition creeping down her spine as she rose and reluctantly followed Azrael out of the room and through a narrow corridor. Absently, she wondered where they were. A bunker? That’s what it felt like. Not that it really mattered. If she had to fight her way out, this was as good a spot as any other.
They turned through a maze of hallways, at last stopping at a closed door with a small window cut into the thick steel.
“Have a look,” Azrael commanded.
Jayla stepped forward, having to rise on tiptoes to glance through the window. Eye-level for most people was over her head. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t a room full of male vampires. Four of them wore red leather jackets and were tied to chairs with silver chains, while six others surrounded the prisoners, their faces grim.
“Do you recognize the vampires in the red jackets?” Azrael demanded.
She studied the males. They each had different hairstyles and features, but the hard, cynical expressions on their faces made them all look alike.
She slowly shook her head. “I’ve never seen them before. Why?”
“Two of them followed you from Dreamscape,” Azrael said. “The other two, my clansmen found just a block from where you were walking, apparently waiting for you to pass by. All of them were carrying crossbows with silver bolts.”
Jayla turned toward Azrael, more resigned than shocked by his revelation. “Why were you following me?”
He shrugged. “I was trying to determine the best way to approach you when I realized you were in danger. I called in my clansmen to help sweep up the riffraff.”
Her brows arched as she recalled just how easy it’d been for her to sneak into his Moscow lair. Fast forward seven hundred years, and he had guards who’d managed to overpower four armed assassins.
“You’ve upped your sidekicks,” she murmured.
“I learn from my past mistakes.”
“I wish I could say the same.” Jayla grimaced. She felt battered by the shock of Azrael’s return from death, and now the realization that her suspicion that Emile was setting a trap for her was all too real. Suddenly, she wanted to think of anything but the damned female determined to drive Jayla out of Hong Kong. Bitch. “You said that you had a bargain. Tell me what I get out of the deal.”
“I assume you would like to know who is responsible for sending four assassins to kill you.”
“I already know.” He started to frown, but she raised her hand. “What I don’t have is the proof I need to convince the clan chief of Hong Kong. Do you?”
“Not yet.” He nodded toward the door. “But my superpower is compelling vampires to obey me. I can haul them to the local clan chief and make sure they offer a full confession. It should be all the proof you need.”
She was abruptly struck by the distant memory of Azrael’s voice echoing through her mind. “I remember. You tried to use it on me.”
He gazed down at her, his searing blue eyes sweeping an appreciative gaze over her upturned face.
“You’re one of the few capable of defying my commands.”
A flutter of pleasure swept through Jayla. She scowled. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t a female who fluttered. Not. Ever.
“I’m special.”
He stepped toward her, surrounding her in his musk. “Without a doubt.”
She savored the raw scent that she’d thought lost forever. “What do you want in return for the information?”
“Your superpower.”
Jayla jerked. Damn. Why hadn’t she seen that coming? She forced a stiff smile to her lips.
“My talent for brewing the perfect cup of tea?”
“Your ability to stop time.”
* * *
Levet stepped out of a portal and suspiciously sniffed the air. He’d expected to find himself at the bottom of a volcano. Or a sinking iceberg. Vampires had a peculiar sense of humor, and when Chiron, the owner of the Dreamscape Spa and Resort had requested he join him, Levet had assumed that this was yet another opportunity to dump him in some awful location.
Instead, the delicious scents of curry fish-balls and sticky tofu surrounded him. Hmm. Spreading his delicate gold, crimson, and blue wings that should have belonged to a fairy, he patted his rumbling belly. He might be height-challenged for a gargoyle since he barely stood three feet, but he had a full-sized appetite—along with all the appropriate gargoyle features. Stunted horns, a long tail he kept lovingly polished, and gray eyes that matched his skin.
“It is Hong Kong,” he breathed in appreciation.
A tall, dark-haired male with fine, devilish features glanced down, his brown eyes filled with confusion. “I told you that was where we were going.”
“ Oui , but you also told me that we were going to Monaco for a bachelor party for Basq, and I ended up alone on a desert island. If a sylph hadn’t floated past, I might still be stuck there,” Levet complained.
The vampire smoothed a hand down the silver jacket of his custom-tailored suit he’d matched with a black silk shirt and gray tie.
“I would never be that lucky,” he murmured in dry tones.
Levet ignored him, his gaze darting to the massive Dreamscape Resort that stood directly in front of them. He didn’t trust Chiron. Vampire males had a wicked temper and a habit of biting first and asking questions later, but this one did have the most fabulous resorts.
“Are we here to bond?” he demanded, his wings twitching in anticipation. “Do you wish to get a Brazilian wax together?”
“I’d rather have my fangs pulled,” Chiron growled.
Levet stuck out his lower lip. “Very well, we can do a mani-pedi, but I insist on champagne. Dom Perignon .”
A chill crawled through the warm evening air. “We’re not here for a spa day. We’re here to find Jayla.”
Levet made a sound of disgust. He might have known there would be nothing fun about this latest adventure.
“I do not understand vamp-speak. What is a Jayla?”
“Not a what. A who,” Chiron corrected. “The manager of my resort.”
“Oh.” Levet frowned. “Is she missing?”
“Yes.” Chiron pointed toward the side of the towering building constructed of steel and lightly tinted glass. “The last time she was seen, she was leaving through that door.”
“When did she disappear?”
“Three hours ago.”
Levet sent his companion a puzzled frown. “Three hours? That is it? I have taken showers that last longer than that.”
“She’s never out of communication with her assistant,” Chiron insisted. “And never, ever out of communication with me. If I call, she answers. Simple as that.”
Levet shrugged. “She might have lost her phone.”
“And there are no other phones in all of Hong Kong?”
The words were sharp, but they didn’t disguise the male’s apprehension. He truly feared something had happened to his manager.
“There is something else,” Levet said.
Chiron reluctantly nodded. “Yes, she was going to meet with a rival resort owner who claimed she was sabotaging her business. Emile demanded they meet immediately.”
“A trap?”
Chiron paused as if trying to sort through his inner thoughts. “That’s the most obvious explanation,” he conceded, his jaw tightening as his fangs peeked between his lips. A visible display of his frustration. “But I’d like to keep my options open. That’s why you’re here.”
“Not for a Brazilian wax?”
“I want you to follow her trail.”
Levet wrinkled his snout. “I’m a gargoyle, not a blood dog.”
“Bloodhound,” Chiron snapped.
Levet sniffed. “Agree to disagree.”
Prepared for another snarky response, Levet was caught by surprise when Chiron turned to glance down at him, his expression unnaturally grim.
“Before I was banished, I attempted to convince Tarek that the Anasso was unstable,” he told Levet, clearly referring to his days before becoming the leader of the Rebels. “I wasn’t as discreet as I should have been, and one of the Anasso’s loyal guards decided to keep my mouth shut. Permanently. Jayla saved me from a nasty sneak attack.”
“What did she do?” Levet asked, genuinely curious.
“She knocked aside the silver dagger that was thrown at my back and killed the coward.” He shook his head as if disgusted with the idea of putting Jayla in such a dangerous situation. “I don’t doubt that’s why she was banished and forced to become one of the Rebels.” His attention returned to Levet. “I owe her.”
Levet’s wings drooped. He was such a fuc… Non , non . Wait. Sucker. Oui . That was it. He was such a sucker for a female in danger. Especially one who had proven to possess a kind heart.
He would search for Jayla, but he wouldn’t be happy about it.
“And what about what you owe me?” he asked in tart tones.
Chiron shrugged. “Put it on my tab.”
“Fah. If you ever pay that tab, I shall be a very rich gargoyle.”
“Go do your thing.” The vampire waved his hand toward the side door.
“What are you going to do?”
A cold smile touched the vampire’s lips. “I want a word with Emile.”