Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  Hastily clearing his mind, Styx slipped into the shadows of a nearby alley, his dagger in his hand.

  As the ruler of vampires, he was above petty duels and the occasional clan wars that still erupted. That didn’t mean, however, that a rogue vampire might not decide his leadership skills could be improved by a stake through the heart. He ruled with an iron hand, and there were more than a few of his subjects who were not always pleased with his laws.

  Ah, the pleasures of being king.

  Styx was braced to strike when the vamp came close enough for him to recognize the familiar scent. With a muttered curse, he slipped the dagger back into his boot and stepped from the shadows to confront his aggravating friend.

  “Viper.” He planted his hands on his hips. “What a less than pleasant surprise.”

  Coming to a halt, the silver-haired vampire offered a deep bow. He should have looked ridiculous in the gold satin jacket that fell to his knees and black velvet pants, but, as always, the demon managed to appear utterly elegant.

  “Good evening, ancient one.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Styx growled. “What are you doing here?”

  “Would you believe that I just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

  “Not for a minute.”

  “Fine.” Viper stepped forward, his expression smoothing to somber lines. “I’m here because of you.”

  “How did you know I would be here?”

  There was a beat before Viper gave a small shrug. “DeAngelo was concerned.”

  “He contacted you?” Styx gave a sharp shake of his head. He had turned each of the Ravens himself. Their loyalty was above question. “No. He would not dare.”

  “What choice did he have?” Viper demanded. “You left the estate in an obvious temper without taking one of your guards with you.”

  In a temper? Styx stiffened at the insinuation. He never lost his temper. And if he did, no one would be capable of detecting his mood. He would never lower himself to stomping about in some sort of childish snit.

  He suddenly grimaced as he realized that that was exactly what he had been doing. Right down to the stomping.

  Damn.

  This was all Darcy Smith’s fault. She alone had managed to rattle the icy control he had honed over hundreds and hundreds of years.

  “I do not need a babysitter, Viper,” he retorted.

  “No.” Viper regarded him steadily. “What you need is protection.”

  “From a pack of curs?” His nose flared with wounded pride. “You think so little of me?”

  “This has nothing to do with the Weres.” Stepping forward, Viper placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are no longer just another vampire, Styx. You are our leader, and DeAngelo is your second in command. He wouldn’t be worthy of being a Raven if he had not taken measures to see to your safety.”

  Styx wanted to argue. On this night he was not thinking as the master of all vampires. He was thinking as a man. A man who wanted to beat the holy shit out of an other man.

  A night for testosterone, not politics.

  Unfortunately, DeAngelo had been within his rights. He could not have known that Styx planned nothing more dangerous than a small squabble with a pack of dogs.

  “Very well,” he grudgingly conceded. “You can stay here and watch the mold grow if you want.”

  He shook off his friend’s hand and took a step forward only to be halted as Viper smoothly stepped into his path.

  “You intend to begin negotiations with Salvatore?” the younger vampire demanded.

  “Do I now have to offer you my itinerary as well?” Styx snapped.

  “It is a simple question.” Viper narrowed his gaze. “Are you here to bargain with the Weres?”

  Styx hissed softly. He answered to no one. Not even to a powerful clansman who also happened to be his friend.

  “I’m here to make sure that Salvatore understands that the next time he attempts to invade my territory it will be his last.”

  “He was at the estate?” Viper demanded in surprise.

  He should be surprised. Only the very brave, or very stupid, would dare to enter a vampire’s lair.

  “He slipped into Darcy’s room while I was downstairs.”

  “Did he harm her?”

  “No.”

  “I assume he tried to take her against her will?”

  Styx glared with a cold warning. He wasn’t about to confess that he had no idea what the Were’s devious plot had been. Or that Darcy had deliberately concealed her meeting with Salvatore. Not when the mere thought was enough to make his blood run hot and his fangs ache to sink into warm flesh.

  Viper would no doubt lock him in a cellar until his senses could return.

  “What does it matter? Isn’t it enough that he dared to approach her at all?”

  “But isn’t that what you wanted, old friend?”

  Styx stepped back with a frown. “What did you say?”

  Viper gave a lift of his hands. “She can hardly be a suitable bargaining chip if Salvatore is not anxious to get his hands upon her. The fact that he dared certain death to try to retrieve her means that he will concede to any demand that you make of him.”

  Styx turned on his heel to pace down the alley. He didn’t want Viper to see his expression. Not when it was bound to reveal his sharp flare of fury at the mere notion of handing over Darcy to the pureblood.

  That was something he would consider later.

  Much, much later.

  “More likely he is simply arrogant enough to believe he is capable of stealing her away without conceding anything. He needs to be reminded of the dangers of crossing my will.”

  “So this is all a matter of teaching the Were a lesson?”

  Styx turned back at the unmistakable disbelief in Viper’s tone. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “I thought you desired to avoid bloodshed? Is that not why you took the woman in the first place?”

  Avoid bloodshed? Not damn likely.

  “He offered an insult that cannot be ignored.”

  Viper shrugged. “As long as you keep Darcy well guarded what does it matter if the man plots to steal her? Besides, would it not be best to avoid any direct confrontations until you have them back on their hunting grounds?”

  Styx swallowed an angry curse. His old friend was treading on dangerous ground. What he did or did not do with Darcy was no one’s concern but his own.

  “There will be no… negotiations until I have discovered what he wants of her,” he rasped.

  There was a startled pause before Viper tilted back his head to chuckle with seeming delight.

  “I see.”

  “What?” Styx moved back up the alley to stab the chortling vampire with an impatient glare. “What is so amusing?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” Styx clenched his hands with an impotent annoyance. He was many things. Arrogant, commanding, fiercely lethal. But he had never, ever been amusing. At the point of reminding his companion that it was a dangerous habit to laugh at his leader, Styx was suddenly distracted by an unexpected scent. “Hold on, Viper, something approaches.”

  Viper thrust aside his lingering amusement at his friend’s obvious befuddlement. He would have plenty of time later to enjoy watching Styx brought firmly to his knees. For now, he was far more interested in the unmistakable stench of approaching curs.

  “They’re trying to surround us,” he muttered, pulling out the two small daggers he had tucked into his jacket before leaving his club.

  Weapons—never leave home without them.

  A motto that had kept him alive for a long time.

  Styx tilted back his head to sniff the air. “Three from the south and two from the north.”

  Viper grinned in anticipation. His mate, Shay, took a very dim view of him engaging in recreational battles. Like many women, she simply didn’t have a taste for violence and there was always a lecture waiting him when he happened to come home with a few bloody gashes
.

  But tonight she couldn’t possibly expect him to stand aside and allow his master to become a midnight snack for curs.

  “Good.” He twirled the daggers in his hands. “You take the north, I’ll take the south.”

  Styx lifted an eyebrow. “They’re after me. I’ll take the south.”

  “Flip you for it?”

  “Just take the north,” Styx commanded, turning his back to Viper so they each faced one end of the alley.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be a little more democratic? You are, after all, an American now,” Viper demanded, his gaze restlessly searching the thick shadows.

  “I’m a vampire, and until someone takes my place, my word is law.”

  Well, it was hard to argue the arrogant claim.

  His word was law.

  And since it had been Viper who had killed the old leader to put Styx on the throne, he couldn’t really complain now.

  “Fine, have it your way.”

  “I always do,” Styx smoothly claimed.

  Viper couldn’t argue that either.

  The chilled breeze swirled through the alley and Viper tightened his grip on his daggers. The curs were near. Very near.

  There was the faintest sound of claws scraping against the pavement, and then with a howl the curs charged into the alley at full force.

  They had already shifted, but even in wolf form they were as large as ponies and possessed inhuman strength. They were also as vicious as hell.

  With red eyes glowing in the dark they lunged toward Viper, indifferent to the knowledge that they were severely outmatched. It would take more than five curs to best two vampires. Especially when both of those vampires happened to be clan chiefs.

  Spreading his feet, Viper crouched low. A cur would always go for the throat first. It was as predictable as the sun rising.

  Hair-raising howls split the air as the curs rushed to their death. Viper waited until he could feel the hot breath on his face before thrusting out his arms and burying the daggers deep into the wide chests.

  One dagger struck true, sinking into the heart of the charging cur, making him crumble at Viper’s feet. The other dagger merely nicked the heart, and with a snarl the beast opened his maw to close about Viper’s throat.

  “Bloody hell, you stink,” Viper rasped as he pulled back his arm to backhand the cur.

  There was a startled squeal as the creature sailed through the air and hit the brick building with a sickening thud. There was a brief pause before the animal was on his feet and lumbering forward once again. In his wolf form the man seemed unaware that he was heavily bleeding from the dagger still lodged in his chest.

  Viper again waited until the cur was nearly upon him before he struck out with his foot. There was a crunch as the bone and cartilage of the cur’s muzzle was smashed at the blow, but maddened by the instinct to kill and the scent of his own blood, the cur continued to struggle forward.

  Teeth as sharp as razors snapped toward Viper’s leg and he was forced to dance backward. He bumped into Styx, but neither turned as they both concentrated on their own battles.

  Where was animal control when you needed them? he ruefully wondered, dodging the claws that swiped toward his throat.

  The large paw made another swipe at Viper, and bending low he dodged toward the cur and grasped the hilt of the dagger. Yanking it from the thick fur, he was startled to feel claws dig into his back. Shit. He had expected the beast to go for his throat. A stupid mistake.

  The wounds were not deep and would soon heal, but not before Shay had a chance to rake him over the coals for being injured.

  Annoyed that he had allowed the Were to mark him, Viper gripped the handle of the dagger and plunged it back into the broad chest.

  This time his aim was true and the silver blade sank deep into the cur’s heart.

  The cur howled in pain as he belatedly tried to back away.

  Viper straightened as he watched the Were crawl behind a nearby Dumpster. He didn’t bother to follow. The cur could not survive, and he was not so vicious as to need to watch him die.

  Besides, he wanted to make sure that Styx had finished off his share.

  Turning to see if his companion needed some assistance, Viper was distracted by the faint sound of footsteps above them.

  He glanced toward the roof of the decaying hotel beside them, expecting to see a cur hoping to catch them unaware. What he saw instead chilled his dead heart

  “Styx!” he shouted the warning as he watched the shadowed form above straighten and point a crossbow directly at his friend’s heart.

  Viper reached to push Styx to the side as the silver arrow streaked through the night. He was fast, but although he managed to move Styx far enough to prevent a lethal blow, the arrow still managed to pierce his chest with a ghastly thud.

  The tall vampire glanced down at the wound, his expression tight with pain. Then, with a shuddering groan he fell forward, nearly reaching the ground before Viper scooped him into his arms and started running from the alley.

  Bloody freaking hell.

  —

  Darcy had unpacked her bags, cleaned the kitchen, paced her room and was settling her plants in the beautiful solarium as she absently listened to Levet’s chatter when she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway.

  It shouldn’t have caught her attention considering the house was literally filled with people. She had counted at least a half dozen different guards in the short time she had been held captive.

  But they were vampires.

  If she had learned nothing else, it was that there could be a hundred of them lurking in the shadows and never make so much as a squeak. Not the most comforting of thoughts.

  Leaving Levet to finish watering the wilted plants, Darcy cautiously entered the hallway and moved toward an open door that had been disguised by the dark walnut paneling.

  She peered into the darkness, not surprised to discover a narrow staircase that led deep into the ground. It seemed only natural that creatures who feared the sun would have a love for places that it couldn’t reach.

  There was another soft scuffle coming from below and, sucking in a deep breath, she was moving down the steps before she could consider the thousands of reasons it was a bad idea.

  The scent of rich, black earth surrounded her as she reached the wide tunnel. It was a soothing scent despite the heavy darkness, and she paused to get her bearings.

  Several smaller tunnels ran from the main passageway. She assumed that they led to hidden lairs, or perhaps they were for quick escapes.

  Escape.

  Something to keep in mind, she silently acknowledged.

  But not tonight.

  Not with the cloaked guard watching her as he stood before the entrance to what seemed to be a small room. And not before she discovered what had happened to create the unmistakable tension filling the air.

  Crossing the short distance, she came to a halt directly before the motionless vampire.

  “What is it?” she demanded. “What has happened?”

  With a motion too swift for a mere mortal to follow, the guard had pushed back his cowl, and Darcy took a swift step backward. The dark eyes held a strange glow and there was no mistaking the fangs that were fully extended.

  Oh yeah, something was wrong.

  “The master has been injured,” he said, his voice harsh.

  “Injured?” A sharp pain clutched at her heart, and the urge that had plagued her for the past two hours to see Styx became a fierce necessity. “Is it bad?”

  She moved to brush past the vampire only to come to a jolting halt as his arm reached out to block her path.

  “You cannot go in.”

  She pushed against the arm. Stupid, of course. She’d have better luck trying to move a brick wall.

  Stepping back, she planted her hands on her hips, not nearly as frightened by the looming fangs as she should be.

  “Then get used to my face because I’m not leaving until I have
seen him,” she warned.

  The guard didn’t bother to react to her ridiculous threat. And why should he? He could kill her on the spot if he wearied of looking at her face.

  To both their surprise, however, a low voice spoke from inside the room.

  “Allow her to pass.”

  The guard stiffened but grudgingly dropped his arm. Darcy didn’t hesitate as she darted past his large form. He didn’t look a bit happy and she didn’t want any unfortunate accidents on the way past.

  Once in the unexpectedly large room she was met by a tall, silver-haired vampire who was beautiful enough to steal her breath.

  Yikes. Was stunning beauty a prerequisite to becoming a vampire?

  “You must be Darcy.” The pale face was unreadable as the dark eyes studied her with a near tangible force. “I am Viper.”

  “Oh, this is your house,” she muttered, her attention already on the wide bed where Styx was lying with his eyes closed. She bit her lip as that pain once again twisted her heart. “What happened to him?”

  Turning. Viper moved toward the bed with Darcy on his heels. “The Weres set a trap. We didn’t realize the danger until too late.”

  Her breath caught. “Too late? Is he going to…”

  “Die?” He gave a shake of his head. “No, he has been grievously wounded, but he will heal.”

  Her gaze refused to waver from the fierce, bronzed features. Even unconscious Styx managed to look lethal. A deadly warrior who would kill without mercy. But Darcy felt no fear. At least not for herself.

  “What can I do?” she whispered.

  There was a small pause. “You wish to help?”

  “Of course.”

  “Forgive my suspicion, but considering you are currently being held prisoner by Styx I am more inclined to believe you are here to finish him off rather than offer him succor,” the vampire accused in smooth tones.

  Oddly offended Darcy turned her head to meet his steady gaze. “If you thought I would harm him, then why did you allow me in?”

  “Because I would rather have you where I can keep my eyes on you.”

  She flinched at the stark words. Dang it. She had endured enough suspicion and downright dislike over the years from her fellow humans. Or maybe not so fellow humans. Did she have to take it from demons as well?