Slowly, his vampires, covered in blood, violence still running high within them, began to step back, to clear a path. Xavier waited until he caught his first glance of Sakal, and almost laughed. It was the sorcerer all right, but he hadn’t come to challenge anyone.
“Mate of mine,” Xavier called, his heart soaring at the sight of her drenched in blood with more than a few injuries, but still whole and strong enough to stand and face him. “You brought me a present.”
“We found him trying to climb over the wall. He’s not terribly agile, I’m afraid.” With all three of her fellow warriors ranged next to her, Layla shoved the bound and gagged sorcerer forward, where he fell to his knees, his eyes furious above the several strips of wide, silverish tape that covered his mouth.
Xavier grinned when he recognized it as duct tape—the American solution for everything, it appeared. Even muffling sorcerers.
“We thought about killing him,” she said conversationally. “But decided you deserved his death, since it was you, and Chuy,” she added with a glance at his lieutenant, “whom he intended to kill. Although his luck does seem to be somewhat lacking lately.”
“Yes,” Xavier agreed, walking slowly closer, enjoying the sight of Sakal’s terror increasing with every step.
Standing before the kneeling sorcerer, he reached down and yanked away the tape, pleased at the raw skin it left behind, the tiny drops of blood that speckled Sakal’s jaw when he howled in pain.
“You have no—”
He slashed out with his own power, shredding the sorcerer’s vocal cords. “I should have killed you the first night I met you in Barcelona,” he growled. “I knew then what you were. But at least now I can avenge my Sire’s death, and the deaths of too many others who thought you were . . . more than the conniving worm you’ve always been. Burn in hell, Ori Sakal.”
Holding out a single hand, he flexed his fingers and pulled. Sakal managed no more than a guttural noise as his sternum cracked and ribs shattered, freeing his heart from the cage of the cowardly body that held it, until it hung suspended in the air before his horrified gaze. “Die,” Xavier said softly, and it burst into flame.
Sakal had never been much of a vampire, but he was old enough that he fell to dust in the dirt amid the ruins of his estate, where it mingled with the remnants of the vampires who’d made the mistake of thinking they could take on a vampire lord and win.
Going immediately to Layla—who he could sense was standing only by virtue of her unbreakable will and determination—he put his arms around her.
The pain in her eyes seemed to lighten when she grinned up at him. “Sorry to mess up your grand entrance.”
“I was coming to rescue you,” he said in an aggrieved tone.
“Aww, maybe next time.” She pulled him down for a kiss, wincing when it crushed a torn lip. “I did bring you a nice present, though.”
“Thank you for the gift, cariño.”
She laughed weakly and said, “Well, it was really from all of us.” She slouched slightly, but he took her weight, so no one would notice. “I’m really tired, though. Can we go home now?”
LAYLA WAS BONE-tired by the time they returned to the Fortalesa. When Xavier closed his office door behind them, he swept her into his arms and carried her through the office and into the first bedroom.
“Well, Sakal’s dead,” she said sleepily as he opened the second door and carried her down the stairs to the bedroom in the vault. “No more morning raids with heavily armed teenagers disappearing into the woods. No more kidnapped children, the fucker. He deserved to die for that alone. Whatever happened to those kids from the farm, by the way? Did they ever show up again?”
“No. Once Sakal left Barcelona it seems they did, too. In the middle of the night, apparently, taking Sakal’s brother with them, or they with him. I’m not clear on that, and don’t care. They were pawns, all of them, including his brother.”
“His brother is a vampire, though. Didn’t he betray you, too?”
He shrugged. “Another weakling, but without Sakal’s sorcery, not much of a threat. If you want to kill him, however, I could find him for you.”
He laid her on the bed and stretched out next to her.
“Nah. Everyone’s going back to their lives, I guess. Which means my team and I should be heading back to France.”
He rolled until he was mostly on top of her, her head caged in his arms, as they lay face to face. “Your team, perhaps,” he said flatly. “But what of you?”
“Well, I go with—” She swallowed what she’d been about to say when she saw the pain in his eyes. She’d expected anger, a furious demand, but not this terrible hurt. “No, no,” she said immediately, reaching up to touch his face, to sweep away the pain and betrayal. “I’m teasing, Xavier. My team isn’t going anywhere. They’re having too much fun here. If you’re not careful, all the rest will leave the vineyards behind and show up here, too. They’re jealous that the four of us got to fight with vampires, and they didn’t.”
“And you?”
“Oh, you’re definitely stuck with me, I’m afraid. I do love you, so much. But honestly, dude, I’m too tired tonight. I have a headache.”
He stared silently at her for so long that it scared her for a moment, but then he laughed. “Good one. But don’t do it again. We’ll settle the rest of it tomorrow night.”
“The rest?” she mumbled, but didn’t hear his answer, because she was already asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
LAYLA WAS COLD, but she didn’t want to get up. Didn’t even want to open her eyes. She was feeling lazy, and hell, she’d earned a day off. But she was cold. Scowling, eyes still shut, she reached blindly for the extra blanket that was always on her bed, and found . . . Heat. Hmmm.
Stretching farther, she patted the mattress until she found the source of the heat in a length of hard thigh, and smooth warm skin. Her hand moved higher.
“If you go any farther, cariño, you’d better have something in mind.”
She froze at the sound of that familiar voice. Only her eyes moved, popping open to find herself in an utterly dark room. She knew that voice, however. She even knew the feel of his skin against hers. She liked the feel of that skin rubbing all over her, as a matter of fact. So rather than pretend otherwise, she said, “I’m cold.”