Devoured By Darkness by Alexandra Ivy

she to your taste?” Sergei urged.
    Marika tapped a crimson nail against the window, not particularly surprised when the woman remained in her comatose state. The bruises blooming on her pale skin revealed that Sergei had already taken his own pleasure.
    “Did you break her?”
    Sergei chuckled, no hint of apology on his lean face. “She might be a trifle damaged around the edges, but she still has some fight left in her.”
    With a sound of disgust, Marika turned away, a hand pressed to her aching forehead.
    “Perhaps later.”
    Sergei hurried to her side, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.
    “You must eat, Marika. You are too important to allow yourself to become weakened.” He made a shallow effort at concern. “Do you prefer a fey? Or maybe you’re in the mood for a harpy? They always scream so sweetly.”
    “Enough, Sergei.” With a casual twist of her hand she had Sergei by the neck and was slamming him against the wall. “I’m not a child. If you want to fuss over someone return to your plaything.”
    Sergei passively dangled from the fingers wrapped around his throat. He hadn’t survived several centuries as her favorite pet by being stupid.
    Waiting until she’d regained control of her swift, gypsy temper and at last released him, Sergei smoothed his black satin tie and summoned an expression of concern that was almost convincing.
    “Please, tell me what’s troubling you.”
    With a hiss, she paced to the center of the floor, her hand again pressed to her temple.
    “It’s her. She’s restless.”
    Sergei didn’t need any further explanation.
    There was only one
her.
    His brows snapped together. “Impossible.”
    She narrowed her dark eyes. “Be careful how you speak to me. In my current mood I might just manage to forget I have need of you.”
    He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I only meant that she is wrapped in layers of protective spells. A nuclear explosion couldn’t disturb her.”
    “Maybe your spells are losing their …” She deliberately paused, her gaze lowering to his impressive pack age tucked into the Gucci slacks. “Potency. Do they have Viagra for magic? You’re growing old, after all.”
    His lips curled with a pure male confidence. “There’s nothing wrong with my potency.”
    “Then why is she whispering in my head?”
    His cockiness faded as Marika allowed her power to sear into his skin with a brief, icy warning. It was ironic really. Her gift had once been to heal others. Since being turned, that same gift allowed her to torture with exquisite precision.
    He nervously cleared his throat. “What is she saying?”
    Marika’s pleasure in causing another pain was forgotten as she clenched her hands. She wasn’t sure when the provoking whispers had started. At first they had been so faint that she’d dismissed them. It wasn’t that unusual for her to sense Kata despite the numerous barriers that separated them.
    Their connection was too intimate to be completely muted.
    But over the past nights the distant buzz had become a desperate chant that refused to leave her in peace.
    “Laylah,” she revealed. “Over and over again.”
    “Laylah. A name?”
    “How would I know?” she snapped.
    “The two of you have always been close,” Sergei attempted to soothe. “You’re certain it has no meaning for you?”
    She sank onto the divan, the heavy gold bangles that encircled her wrists shimmering in the torchlight.
    “The bitch is obviously trying to drive me insane.”
    Sergei paced the room, his brow furrowed. “Or offer a warning.”
    Marika reached for the goblet of fresh blood that had been left on the lacquer table beside the divan. She preferred her dinner straight from the source, but at the moment she was too distracted to make the effort.
    “Bloody twit,” she growled. “In case you’ve forgotten the last few times we roused Kata she tried to curse me. Why the hell would she try to warn me now?”
    “I didn’t mean she was trying to