Or stacked on the huge table.
The vampire huffed and twisted a brass knob on the oil lamp that stood near the edge of that table. The room grew brighter, making it easier for her to see.
“What are you looking for?” She peered at the map.
This one she recognised. It was the dragon realm, complete with strongholds that had been marked with various symbols she didn’t understand. Just how much of Hell had the Preux Chevaliers charted? She glanced at the stacks of rolled-up parchment to her left again. If they were all maps, then the First Legion had been busy, must have visited and documented most of Hell.
“I am looking for where the mansion was.” Grave didn’t look up from the map, just pushed it aside and huffed again as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and planted the other against the table to support his weight. He rubbed his eyes and grimaced as he straightened. He pressed his hands into the small of his back and arched his hips forwards, causing his black trousers to stretch tight across them. She dropped her gaze to the map to avoid getting an eyeful. He sighed. “It is not going well.”
“How long have you been at this?” She scanned the room again, this time noticing the small stack of discarded metal containers on a side table near the tall sash windows. One of them had fallen onto the black velvet armchair beside it.
“Since you left with the elf.” Grave rolled his shoulders, causing the black material of his shirt to stretch tight across his chest, and twisted his head left and then right. A contented sigh escaped his lips and he sagged forwards, slapped his left hand down on the map and pushed it aside.
She recognised the one beneath it too.
Mackenzie leaned over the map, frowning at the rivers marked on it and the mountains, scanning it until something clicked. She pressed her index finger to a valley.
“It was there.” She lifted her gaze to the vampire.
He looked up at her and then at where her finger touched the map. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “But I’m not sure what you expect to find. I levelled the place and I doubt it’s been rebuilt. The coven would be in the firing line of retaliation from my kind if they built there, where some of us know where they are. I warned a few phoenixes about that place.”
Grave’s features pinched, his lips flattening as he glared at the map. His tone was thick with irritation as he muttered, “You are probably right… but I needed to do something.”
She could understand that. They had left him for hours and he had wanted to fill the time, to do something he perceived as useful rather than standing around waiting for their return.
“We could check it out though,” she offered, part of her wanting to make him feel he hadn’t wasted his time.
The rest of her wanted nothing to do with that place, was happy staying far away from it and never seeing it again.
Grave was right though. If there was a chance the witch might return there, or there might be evidence of other places where his coven lived in the rubble of the mansion, then they needed to go there.
A vicious roar sounded outside and the wall behind Grave shook as something hit it, the glass panes of the window rattling with the impact. A muffled grunt was followed by a bellow of terror, and she grimaced as she realised it had been a someone, not a something that had hit the wall.
Two storeys above the ground.
“What the Devil?” Grave growled and twisted towards the window, scowled when he reached it and looked down into the courtyard below. “The beast. He dares attack my men to reach me?”
Oh gods.
Mackenzie’s eyes widened as she sensed it.
Sensed him.
Hartt was here.
She hurried to the window, gaped as she stared down into the courtyard and watched Hartt tearing his way through the vampires that swarmed it in an attempt to protect their leader. Only they didn’t need to protect Grave. Hartt wasn’t here for him. She was sure of it.
He was here for her.
Her heart drummed at a sickening pace as he lifted his head and their gazes collided. She couldn’t tell from this distance, but she felt certain there would be black in his violet irises, evidence of the darkness that corrupted him. Darkness he looked as if he wanted to unleash on her as he frowned and his eyes narrowed.
She gasped as he disappeared, leaving only a faint shimmering outline of him where he had been.
Pivoted on her heel as she sensed him behind her.
He casually discarded the vampire he had teleported with him, tossing him aside as if he was trash.
Grave arched an eyebrow at him and then flexed his fingers, curling them into fists as his eyes bled to crimson. He was gearing up for a fight, and her gut said it would be brutal, a savage punishment for daring to invade his home and hurt his men. And sure, maybe she was to blame for part of that murderous look that sharpened his scarlet gaze.
“I might have fibbed a little about him wanting to kill you.” She rushed the words out, felt it when Grave glared at her. She scowled at him. “I was pissed off with him. I still am pissed off with him.”
“You’re coming with me,” Hartt growled and when she didn’t move, he stalked towards her, all glowering darkness.
She gathered her wits and moved before he could reach her, placing the vampire between them as she backed away. “Leave. I told you, I don’t want to see you again.”
He flashed fangs at her on a snarl, and she had been right, there was black in his irises, far more than she had seen in them before. “I’m not leaving without you.”
The possessive and commanding edge to his deep voice had her hackles rising despite the heat that crackled inside her, seeped into her veins to set them aflame. An electric thrill ran through her as Grave stepped into his path and Hartt turned a vicious growl on him, looked ready to murder him for blocking his way to her.
Stopping him from taking hold of her and no doubt whisking her away from the vampire.
She tamped down the thrill, denied the heat that continued to flood her, and clung to the other feeling his fierce demand had ignited in her.
“And I’m not interested in being pushed into another cage,” she snapped, the heat of arousal becoming the fire of rage as he didn’t even flinch, didn’t deny that he wanted to do just that. “I like my freedom.”
“I could make him leave,” Grave drawled, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Hartt launched at him on a roar, barrelled into his chest and fisted his black shirt, twisting it around his hand as he dragged Grave towards him. “I’ll kill you if you try, vampire.”
Rather than fighting Hartt or attempting to break free, Grave merely smiled.
A slow, sly one.
“You act like a male who has lost more than his work partner.” Grave’s words seemed to shake Hartt, had him loosening his hold and looking shocked for a moment before his face darkened again and he bared fangs.
“Do not say it,” Hartt growled.
Mackenzie hadn’t been interested in what Grave suspected, but now she really wanted to know. “I’m going to have to insist that he does.”
Grave slid her a look. “It seems the elf is more than your competition, your enemy and your would-be ally.”
“What the hell does that mean?” She wasn’t in the mood for riddles. She looked to Hartt but he refused to meet her gaze, kept his near-black eyes locked on the vampire.