Nothing was going as it should.
He had devoted thirty years to searching for Darcy. Thirty goddamn years. Then, when he finally managed to track her down she was snatched from beneath his nose by filthy vampires.
It was enough to make any werewolf snap and snarl.
And now, when he had risked everything to slip her away, he was being forced to leave the remote estate alone.
What the hell was wrong with the woman?
She was supposed to be terrified at being held prisoner by a vampire. She was supposed to be hiding in a corner just waiting to be rescued.
Rescued by him.
But she hadn’t been terrified. As a pureblood he could sense her every mood, and while she had been bemused and understandably wary, there had been no panicked need to escape.
In fact, it had taken only a few moments to realize that she would balk at any attempt to force her from the house.
Balk enough to bring a horde of angry vampires down upon his head.
Salvatore was a powerful Were. Perhaps the most powerful pureblood in centuries. But not even he could take on a dozen vampires. Not when one of them was the mighty Anasso.
And more importantly, he couldn’t afford to risk Darcy.
She was the key to all their plans.
Now he was empty-handed with no certain means of capturing his prize.
Someone was going to pay for this.
Starting with Styx, the freaking master of the universe.
Chapter Six
Styx paced the kitchen, careful to keep his gaze from straying toward the small table in the center.
There was nothing wrong with the table.
In fact, it was perfect.
He had heated the vegetarian lasagna and garlic bread exactly as the housekeeper had directed. The red wine was breathing. He had even arranged the candles to provide a soft, comforting glow through the room.
And that’s what was troubling him.
It looked precisely as he had intended it to look.
Romantic.
He gave a shake of his head as he glanced toward the empty door for the hundredth time.
There was no explanation for his strange behavior.
It could not just be desire.
If he only wanted sex and blood he could easily enthrall her with his mind and take what he wanted. She would give him whatever he desired, and do so gladly.
It was what vampires had been doing since the beginning of time.
But this… fussing and fretting over her tiniest comfort.
This was most certainly not the habit of a vampire.
Thankfully, for his peace of mind, Darcy chose that moment to walk through the door.
Any confusion as to why he was acting in such a strange manner was forgotten as he allowed his gaze to slide over her tiny body enwrapped in the heavy brocade robe.
She looked young and delicate and so vulnerable that she would have tugged at the heart of the most ruthless demon.
Forcing himself to resist the urge to cross the room and sweep her into his arms, Styx gave a lift of his brows.
“I began to fear that you intended to remain in your chambers for the entire night.”
She smiled, but there was something wary in her manner as she edged toward the table.
“The thought did cross my mind, but I was too hungry. Something smells delicious.”
“Since my meager presence did not seem enough to lure you from your room, I resorted to the temptation of food,” he retorted dryly.
“Wise choice.” Reaching the table, she sat down and took a deep sniff. “What is it?”
“The note from the housekeeper says that it is vegetarian lasagna. I hope you approve?”
“If it tastes half as good as it smells I more than approve.” She picked up her fork and took a bite, her eyes closing with obvious pleasure. “Delicious.”
Styx felt his body instantly harden. He remembered all too vividly her eyes closing in another sort of pleasure. With a small curse he moved to take a seat across the table. It was that or allowing her to realize her unnerving power over him.
Sensing his presence, Darcy opened her eyes and that caution returned. “What about you?” she demanded.
A hint of annoyance narrowed his gaze. He had already assured her that he would not force her to share blood. He was unaccustomed to having his honor questioned.
“I have already eaten.”
“Oh.” She ducked her head as she concentrated on the food before her. “You don’t have to stay, you know. I promise not to try to escape for at least the next twenty minutes.”
“Are you attempting to be rid of me?”
“You must have better things to do than watch me eat.”
Styx frowned. “What is troubling you?”
She never lifted her head as she continued to eat. “I’m being held against my will by a vampire. A pack of werewolves is lurking outside hoping to snatch me. And to top it off, I’m missing work, which means I don’t get paid. Don’t you think any poor woman would be a little tense?”
Styx was forced to concede she did have a point. Although he had gone to an extraordinary effort to ease her confinement, there was no denying that she was his prisoner.
How could he hold her to blame for not being entirely happy with the situation?
“Perhaps,” he muttered, leaning back in his seat to watch her polish off the last of the lasagna and two slices of bread. “There is more if you wish.”
She gave a wry smile as she tossed aside her napkin. “Good lord, no. I’m stuffed. What I need now is a long walk.”
Styx rose from the table to glance out the window in puzzlement. “The elements would not trouble me, but it is far too cold for a human.”
She moved to stand beside him, completely unaware of his body’s reaction to the heat and scent of her.
“Oh, look, it’s snowing.”
He glanced down to discover her expression softened with delight. “Angel, you cannot go outside with no shoes or coat.”
“I suppose not.” A wistful smile touched her lips. “I love snow. It always makes the world look so fresh and new.”
By the gods, he was the master of all vampires. Demons around the world quaked at the mention of his name. There was none who would stand in his path. And yet, the slightest hint of longing from this woman had him scrambling to please her.
It was downright pathetic.
Swallowing a sigh, he reached down to sweep her off her feet and cradled her against his chest.
Darcy gave a startled squeak as she clutched at the gaping edges of her robe. “What are you doing?”
“I believe I might have a solution that will please you,” he assured her as he left the kitchen and headed down the hall to the far wing of the house.
“Styx, put me down.”
“Not yet.” He opened the door to the new addition and set Darcy on her feet before reaching to switch on the lights. “Here we are.”
Her eyes widened with delight as she glanced around the glass enclosure that offered an unobstructed view of the falling snow.
“A solarium,” she breathed, turning to offer him an enchanting smile. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s not entirely finished. Viper plans to surprise his mate once it is completed.”
“Wow.” She gave a soft laugh. “A very generous gift.”
Styx allowed a smile to touch his own lips. “He mentioned something about an untimely interruption in another solarium that he intended to correct. I didn’t probe further.”
“No doubt a wise choice.” She walked across the floor, not seeming to mind the bare shelves and only partially Finished fountain. She gently touched her hand to a frosted pane. “Levet told me of Viper and his wife. Is she a vampire as well?”
He silently moved to stand behind her. “Actually, she is like you. A mixture of human and demon.”
Her body tensed at his words. “We don’t know if I do have demon blood. Not yet.”
Styx studied her reflection in the glass. “You are something more than human.”
“Maybe.”
Sensing her reluctance to consider the possibility of demon blood, he easily turned the conversation.
“If you would like, I can ask Shay to visit so you can speak with her.”
She turned with a curious expression. “According to Levet, she is not very happy with you.”
He grimaced. “We have a… difficult past. And she’s angry that I have taken you as my guest.”
“Guest?”
“Prisoner, if you prefer.”
“I like her already.”
Styx abruptly wished he had not suggested that Shay visit. Darcy was already determined to hold him at a damnable distance. Once Shay revealed his past this woman would consider him nothing less than a monster.
“Perhaps we should wait for her visit until…” Styx’s words came to a halt as he leaned close to the curve of her neck.
The scent was faint, but unmistakable.
Werewolf.
Disbelief was followed closely by a cold stab of anger.
In the past hour Darcy had been in the company of Salvatore. The bastard had actually possessed the sheer balls to invade his home and somehow corner Darcy while she was alone.
Even worse, this woman had deliberately concealed the encounter.
No wonder she had seemed distracted.
Had Salvatore threatened her if she revealed his outrageous trespassing? Or had the Were managed to convince her that he was harmless?
Were they even now plotting her escape?
“Styx?”
Realizing that Darcy was staring at him with a growing suspicion, Styx eased his tension and even managed a faint smile. He had only known this woman a short time, but it was enough to convince him that he could never force her to confess her secrets.
Not without resorting to vampire tricks.
Something he was oddly reluctant to do unless all else failed, of course.
“Is something the matter?” she demanded.
“What could possibly be the matter?”
She frowned at his tight tone, but any response she might have made was interrupted when the door to the conservatory was rudely thrown open and a grumbling Levet stomped into the room.
“Sacre bleu, do you think you could have possibly chosen a more miserable night to send me plodding around the city as if I am a packhorse?” He gave a shake of his wings, sending snow flying through the room. “Perhaps tomorrow night you would like me to build you a snowman and dance around it naked.”
There was a choked laugh from Darcy, and with an effort Styx forced back the urge to toss the intrusive demon through the nearest window. As annoying as he found the gargoyle, he couldn’t deny his timing was perfect.
Who better to distract Darcy.
“I can safely assure you, Levet, that I shall never request that you dance around naked—in the snow or not,” he drawled as he took a step away from Darcy. “But you can keep my guest entertained for me. I fear I have pressing business that I can put off no longer.”
He gave a small bow toward the startled Darcy before crossing the conservatory and slipping through the open door. He felt her gaze following him, but he ignored her wary confusion as he stepped into the hallway and motioned for the hovering Raven.
DeAngelo slipped from the shadows and offered a small bow. “Master?”
“I want you to keep guard on our guest.”
“Certainly.”
“And tell Santiago to increase the sentries upon the grounds.”
The pale face nearly hidden beneath the cowl of the robe revealed the faintest hint of surprise.
“You fear we may be attacked?”
“I don’t yet know what the Weres plan.” His face hardened with the anger that still simmered deep within him. “But I assure you that I intend to find out. Until then, do not allow Darcy out of your sight.”
—
Darcy stood frowning in the solarium after the tall, unpredictable vampire had abruptly left the room.
She had never possessed the ability to read minds. And certainly she was no vampire expert. But she had long ago learned to study the body language of others, and she couldn’t deny there had been an angry tension in her captor.
“Did I intrude at an inconvenient moment?”
“What?” Turning her head, Darcy realized that the gargoyle had moved to stand at her side. “Oh… no, not at all.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you wish to follow him, then I will not mind. I am accustomed to women who have been enthralled by vampires. It seems to be my sad lot in life.”
Darcy found herself smiling. Now that she had gotten over the shock of being around a three-foot gargoyle, she found him strangely charming.
“I am perfectly happy to remain here with you, Monsieur Levet,” she said as she reached down to pat him on the shoulder. She hastily pulled her hand back at the cold moisture on his gray skin. “Oh, you’re wet.”
“Of course I am wet. I have been tromping about in the snow.” He pointed a finger in her direction. “And all for you.”
“Me?” Darcy blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“Your oh-so-charming vampire absolutely insisted that you could not survive another moment without your precious plants and every scrap of clothing that you possess, which, by the way, is not much. We must get you to a mall, ma belle. No doubt tall, dark, and broody could be convinced to give you his credit card.”
She struggled to follow his spat of words, ignoring his insult to her less than stunning wardrobe.
“Plants? What are you talking about?”
The great master insisted that I return to your apartment and retrieve your plants, but did he give a thought to the poor wretch he sent out into the cold and snow? “Non.“ Levet gave a small sniff. “I am no more than a pitiful servant in his eyes.”
“Styx sent you to get my plants?”
The demon heaved a deep sigh. “I am speaking English, am I not?”
Darcy abruptly turned to pace across the empty floor. “I… why would he do such a thing?”
The gargoyle gave a short laugh. “If you do not know then I am not about to explain it to you. I far prefer that you believe him to be a heartless monster.”
A strange sensation was tingling through her body as Darcy continued to pace. “And you brought my clothes as well?”
“They are all in the kitchen. I have retrieved them, but I am no bellboy to be carrying and lugging things to your room.”
“Of course not.”
She gave the gargoyle a distracted smile as she moved past him and left the conservatory. For some reason she had to see her belongings for herself.
Entering the kitchen, she found them just as Levet had promised.
There were four boxes of her various plants and a small suitcase that carried her clothes.
She was staring at them with an unconscious frown when Levet joined her at the table.
“I did get them all, did I not?”
“Yes, this is all.”
He gave a small sniff. “I cannot imagine why you would wish a bunch of weeds stuck in ugly pots. They seem a great deal of trouble when you can step out the door and dig up any number of weeds just like them.”
“They are not weeds; they are my companions,” she corrected.
“Well, I suppose as roommates they are at least quiet.”
She smiled ruefully as she reached out to touch one of her lacy ferns. “No one really understands.”
There was a short beat before Levet cleared his throat. “Actually, I would guess that at least one vampire understands.”
“Yes,” she murmured softly, that strange tingle returning.
Styx.
He did understand. Or if he didn’t understand, he was at least willing to accept the importance to her. And he had sent Levet out in the snow so that she wouldn’t be fretting over her things.
It wa
s…
Cripes, it was sweet. And thoughtful. And not at all in keeping with a coldhearted monster who intended her harm.
And for some stupid reason it touched her far more than was reasonable.
Well, perhaps not stupid, she silently conceded. After all, when a person was alone in the world the slightest offer of kindness tended to take on greater meaning than for other people.
Even if that kindness came from a bloodthirsty vam pire holding her captive.
“Excuse me,” she muttered to Levet as she left the kitchen and went in search of the elusive Styx.
She needed to see the beautiful demon.
She wanted him to know she wasn’t indifferent to his concern for her happiness.
—
As she moved through the empty living room and equally empty study, Darcy paused as a coldness prickled over her skin. It was a coldness like the one that surrounded Styx but without the added surge of excitement his always stirred.
With a swift motion she turned, not at all surprised to discover the silent vampire standing in the doorway.
“Oh.” She shifted uneasily. “Hello.”
The vampire was motionless as he stared at her from the depths of his heavy cowl.
“Is there some requirement that I can fulfill?” he demanded.
She resisted the urge to shiver. He looked like a mannequin. A very scary mannequin.
“I was looking for Styx. Do you know where I can find him?”
“He has left the estate.”
“Do you know when he will return?”
“No.”
“I see.”
Darcy couldn’t deny a flare of disappointment. Which was nearly as scary as the vampire standing before her. Even a woman who tried to think the best of everyone shouldn’t be pining for the man holding her prisoner.
That was crazy. Just… crazy.
Chapter Seven
The trail from Darcy’s bedroom to the dilapidated hotel wasn’t particularly difficult to follow. That didn’t, however, do anything to ease Styx’s smoldering temper.
Salvatore had invaded his lands and put his filthy hands on Darcy.
Styx wanted blood.
Werewolf blood.
That was the only thing on his mind.
Or it was until he caught the unmistakable scent of vampire.
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