“You could have at least bathed,” he grumbled, a bitterness in his tone that reeked of envy, and then ran a hand down his face as he tipped his head back. “I miss Isla.”
Isla was Grave’s phantom mate. The vampire had sent her away two days ago, convincing her to travel to visit her remaining family—a demon called Frey—in order to keep her safe and stop her from getting involved in the fight against the witch.
While Hartt could understand Grave’s desire to protect his mate, a feeling that ran deep in his blood too, he would have preferred the phantom had remained and not because it would have improved the vampire’s slowly degenerating mood.
Phantoms were extremely powerful, a force few could stand against. Isla had been made corporeal, but it hadn’t diminished her strength or negated her ability to kill someone with only a kiss, devouring their soul to nourish herself and make herself stronger. Like phoenix shifters, phantoms were heavily targeted by a specific type of mage, were highly prized and hunted mercilessly. Grave hadn’t wanted his mate exposed to the evil intentions of another mage, something she had survived once but he feared she wouldn’t survive again.
Gods, Hartt felt the same way about Mackenzie.
He didn’t want her anywhere near a witch who specialised in magic involving phoenix blood, especially one whose family had been responsible for the murder of her kin.
“Did you make any progress with the plan?” Mackenzie leaned forwards and studied the documents scattered across the table, drawing Hartt’s gaze to her.
He ran it over her curves, felt that wicked heat ignite in his veins again as she glanced over her shoulder at him and he thought about her in that position when she was naked. She arched a chastising eyebrow at him, but the fire that burned in her irises said she liked the path of his thoughts.
Grave cleared his throat, shaking Hartt from his reverie and causing a blush to climb Mackenzie’s cheek as she straightened. Syn rolled her amber eyes at her friend and pretended to neaten her black hair, but Hartt had figured out her nervous tell and wasn’t surprised when her fingers brushed the smooth onyx of her horns. Syn refused to look at the vampire or Fuery, and Hartt had the feeling she had gotten into an argument with one or both of them while he and Mackenzie had been absent.
Hartt guessed it must have been Fuery, because his friend stood at the opposite end of the long oak table to her, his black-edged-violet eyes locked on her and a scowl knitting his jet eyebrows. He frowned as he noticed that strands of Fuery’s overlong blue-black hair had been pulled loose from the silver clasp that usually held the top half back from his face and his friend was wearing only his black armour now, the tiny scales covering him from neck to toe.
Hartt tossed a glare at Syn as he broke away from Mackenzie to go to Fuery. The demoness averted her gaze and scuffed the heel of her black knee-high boots across the wooden floor. Earned herself a growl from the vampire for abusing the boards.
He sensed Mackenzie’s gaze on him, savoured it as he walked right up to Fuery and pulled him into an embrace. Fuery was still for a moment, but then he wrapped his arms around Hartt and began to relax.
“I should not have stayed away so long.” He spoke in the elven tongue, keeping their conversation private as he captured Fuery’s shoulders and pushed him back so he could see him. Worry ate at him as he noticed the darkness in Fuery’s eyes, how close to black they were. “Perhaps you should spend some time with Shaia? Does it help when you spend time with her? Does it… does the darkness affect her?”
Hartt swallowed his racing heart as he waited for Fuery to answer that question.
Fuery’s eyes were open and honest as he replied in the same language. “The darkness… Shaia does feel it in me and it can affect her to a degree, but when she feels it, she is quick to come to me and calm me. I do not like that it affects her, but in a way, I am grateful that it does because it means she knows when I need her. Without her, I think I would not be getting better at controlling it. I want to be able to control it and vanquish it for her sake… so she no longer experiences an echo of it through our bond.”
That wasn’t the comfort Hartt had hoped it would be. Part of him had hoped Fuery would tell him that Shaia wasn’t affected by the darkness and that he was safe to lower his guard around Mackenzie. He glanced at her, caught the worry in her eyes as she looked at him, and knew she had sensed his unease. The fact that Shaia was helping strengthen Fuery’s control over the darkness was a good thing though and he was eager to see if Mackenzie could do the same for him, helping him claw his way back towards the light.
For now though, he would keep the wall between her and the darkness in place.
“You should go to Shaia.” He squeezed Fuery’s shoulder and smiled for him, wanting to alleviate the worry he could sense in his friend.
Fuery began to nod, but then shook his head, his brow furrowing as his gaze lifted to lock with Hartt’s. “I should be here.”
“It feels as if it is growing late. We should probably all rest anyway.” And hopefully Shaia would come to visit her mate, would sense his need of her and spend the night with him. Hartt sighed. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
Fuery forced a smile. “It was fine. You needed to be with your ki’ara.”
“But the demoness said something to upset you.” He was careful not to mention the demoness by name, was aware of how she was watching them, listening hard to their conversation. If he mentioned her name, Syn would know they were talking about her in a language she didn’t understand.
Fuery’s smile faltered, darkness washing across his features as he glanced towards the demoness.
His words were a black growl as he said, “She does not think you worthy of her friend.”
“She is merely protective and, from my experience, is apparently unable to handle that feeling with decorum and without resorting to violence.” Hartt had been given his own taste of her caustic brand of protectiveness over the last few days and he doubted she was going to change her attitude towards him now that he and Mackenzie were mated.
In fact, he wholeheartedly expected her to get worse.
“She attacked me.” Fuery glared in her direction as he spoke those words in the elven tongue.
“You want a piece of me,” Syn snarled, and Mackenzie muttered something as she moved to her friend, as he sensed her holding the demoness back. “It’s not my bloody fault. They’re talking smack about me. I know it.”
“Yeah, and I know you probably deserve it,” Mackenzie muttered. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I bet you went prodding and poking him the second I went to check on Hartt.”
That was followed by a long sigh that made him want to look at his mate.
“Syn, you’re just going to have to accept that he’s my mate now.”
The demoness exploded. “He’s your what now?”
Hartt did look back at Mackenzie to check on her now. Syn looked more than a little horrified, her mouth agape and eyes wide as she stared at his mate. The demoness’s expression only grew more shocked as Mackenzie brought her hand up and swept her hair back, revealing the left side of her throat.
“You bit her! You son of a bitch.” Syn tried to barge past Mackenzie, but his beautiful female stepped into her path and held her back.