“You’re saying that you’re free of the curse?”
“Who knows?” Dante leaned his head against the wall. “I’m just saying that I don’t feel the least urge to lift a finger for that bitch who trapped me.”
Another beat passed. “I don’t believe you.”
“Whatever.” Dante shrugged. “At least tell me, is she dead?”
The man shot a revealing glance toward the darkened entrance.
“Not yet.”
So, she must be near. A flare of anticipation raced through him before a warning voice reminded him that she might as well be a world away unless he could get the chains removed.
With an effort, he maintained his air of aloof curiosity. “Not yet? Why would you hesitate . . . ah. Of course. You’re going to offer her up to the Prince, aren’t you?”
The human stiffened at the hint of mockery in his voice. “When the time is right.”
Dante casually studied his host, allowing his amusement to show.
“Let me give you a bit of advice, boy,” he drawled softly. “Don’t wait too long. There are all sorts of beasties out there who will kill you for the opportunity to be the one to give the Prince such a prize. The sooner you offer the sacrifice, the sooner you’ll have glory beyond belief.”
The stiffness increased as a hint of color touched the cheeks still rounded with youth.
“The glory belongs to my master.”
“Master?” Dante gave a small snort of disbelief. “Are you telling me that you captured the Phoenix and handed her over for someone else to reap the rewards? Hell, don’t you have a brain? Oh, maybe it’s the balls you lack.”
The color turned to purple as the man lifted the stake in a threatening motion.
“Watch your mouth, vampire. I would love nothing more than to stick this through your heart.”
Dante merely laughed. He had hit a direct nerve. The man’s frustrated ambition was nearly tangible in the air.
“God, I thought I had been pussy-whipped by those witches.” He rubbed the salt a bit deeper into the open wound. “At least I never willingly allowed myself to be turned into a schmuck.”
The pale eyes flashed with fury, but behind the anger was a cold hunger that he could not entirely conceal.
“I will have my rewards.”
“A few crumbs dropped by the great master? Pathetic.”
“Shut up.”
Dante folded his arms over his chest, inwardly cursing the rattling chains. He hated chains. They made him want to bite something. Hard. Instead he smiled with mocking humor.
“You could have had it all. Power, glory, a place at the side of the Prince.” His smile widened. “But then, maybe you like being a flunky. I’ve noticed most humans prefer being sheep to wolves.”
A loud breath hissed through clenched teeth. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.”
Oh, it was working. The man was nearly drooling with the desire to snatch the power he felt being denied him.
“Look, I couldn’t care less who manages to kill that bloody Phoenix, just as long as it’s good and dead.” Dante glanced down to inspect his fingernail. “I intend to walk out of this cave a free vampire.”
The man gave a humorless laugh. “You think the Prince won’t want a taste of you?”
“Why should he?”
Another step closer, but still out of reach.
“You protected the Chalice.”
Dante didn’t even bother to glance up. That didn’t mean, however, he wasn’t fiercely aware of the exact distance that separated them.
“I was compelled by the witches. It wasn’t as if I wanted to be chained like a dog.”
“I doubt he’s that understanding.”
“I’d say my chances of living through the night are considerably better than your own.”
A shocked silence filled the chamber. It was obvious the fool had not even considered the cost of returning the dark power to the world. Typical. Most wizards were concerned only with the rewards, never the sacrifice that would be demanded.
And there was always a sacrifice.
“Now what are you babbling about?” he rasped.
Dante lazily lifted his head to regard him with a steady gaze.
“You do know that the Prince can’t survive in this world without feeding?” he demanded. “He requires blood. A lot of blood. Thankfully, I’m fresh out.”
A frown touched the young man’s brow. “The woman holding the Phoenix will be the sacrifice.”
“Abby? She’s barely a snack, even for me.”
“I . . .” His lips tightened. “There are servants.”
Dante chuckled. “I hope for your sake there is a whole flock of servants. Otherwise you’re about to find yourself laid over the altar with a knife carving out your heart.”
Gripping the stake so tightly it threatened to snap in half, the mortal paced toward the narrow opening. Farther away from Dante but clearly unnerved by the thought of altars and knives and the ripping out of hearts.
“I suppose you think I should let you go so that you can help me overthrow the master?”
“Me?” Dante gave a sound of disgust. “Why the hell would I want to help you? It doesn’t matter to me who kills the bitch. I’m free either way.”
The decidedly nervous disciple whirled back. A tick in his left eye revealed his barely controlled emotions.
“I don’t think you’re nearly as unconcerned as you want me to believe. I think you have feelings for the woman.”
Dante widened his eyes in mock disbelief even as he inwardly conceded that the man was not quite the idiot he had supposed. Something to remember when it came time to kill him.
“I’m a vampire, you twit. I don’t have feelings for anyone or anything. Although . . .” He deliberately allowed his words to trail away.
“What?”
“She was a helluva lay,” he drawled, hopefully cementing his seeming disregard for a mere mortal. The moment this fool was certain Dante would travel to the pits of hell to save Abby was the moment he lost all advantage. “The things she could do with her tongue could make a man explode like a volcano. I’ll have to admit I wouldn’t mind another couple of rounds before she’s tossed to the Prince. You should try her.”
A disdain marred the youthful features. “Not all of us are animals.”
“Ah . . . a woman hater. You prefer men? Or is it something a little more exotic?” Dante gave a taunting smile. “I have a friend who could fix you right up.”
His captor spit on floor. “Filth.”
“I may be filth, but I’m not the one who’s about to be fed to the Prince.” Dante settled himself more comfortably. “Give him my regards, won’t you?”
Pressed near to the breaking point, the man strode forward, his robes fluttering about his slender form.
“Shut up or I’ll shut you up.”
“Whatever you say.”
When Abby had first awoken, she had been relieved to discover she was simply alive. There seemed to be few things worse than being eaten by ravaging zombies. None that came directly to mind anyway.
Then she opened her eyes.
It took only a moment to realize she had been moved from the woods to a dark cavern of some sort. And that she was tied to a post stuck near a brazier that was belching out a foul smoke.
And that she was not alone.
She might have screamed if a rough cloth had not been tied over her mouth.
A man was standing directly before her. Or at least he appeared to be a man. She was not about to be overly hasty in handing out species assignments after the past few days. And there was something very nonhumanlike about his pasty white skin and hairless head.
And of course there was his outfit.
What sort of man wore heavy robes and a medallion that looked as if it had been ripped off some sports car?
Even as the aimless thoughts floated through her mind the thing reached up to stroke a finger down her cheek. Abby
gagged at the clammy feel of his touch, desperately wondering where Dante was.
He had to be near, she told herself. Perhaps even now plotting her rescue.
She didn’t for a moment consider the fact he might be injured. Or, God forbid, dead.
That path only led to stark, raving madness.
Instead she glared at the man who was regarding her as though she were a bug pinned beneath a microscope. An apt description considering she was tied so tightly to the pole she could barely even blink.
“Such power,” he purred in an oddly mesmerizing tone. “She hums with it. It seems almost a pity to have her slain.”
Slain? Abby groaned through the rag stuffed in her mouth. She didn’t think she was tied up for a surprise birthday party, but slain?
Damn Selena and those witches. She was obviously here to be served up like a Thanksgiving turkey for the Prince.
Hurry, Dante, she silently willed. Please, God, hurry.
Another face suddenly popped into view. This one belonged to a woman not much older than Abby with a pale, pointed face and a dark cloud of hair. She might have been attractive if it hadn’t been for the unnatural glitter in her brown eyes.
“She doesn’t look all that dangerous,” the woman scoffed.
The man shot her a condemning glance. “Because, like most, you see only with your eyes, Kayla. A weakness that I have warned you of more than once.”
“It hardly matters. She’ll soon enough be dead.”
Abby didn’t like the woman’s flippant tone. She made it sound as if they were taking out the trash rather than committing cold-blooded murder. With a flare of anger, she wondered if she could fry the bitch like she had those zombies.
“Yes, soon.” The hairless stranger glanced toward the burning fire. “The summoning of the dark lord has begun.”
“Shall I call for Amil and the vampire?”
Dante. Abby briefly closed her eyes as relief surged through her. He was near. And any moment he was going to charge through the door to kick some serious ass.
Unaware of his danger, the man allowed a peculiar smile to tug at his lips.
“Not just yet. I am waiting for the appropriate moment to . . . reward my loyal acolyte.”
Something in the oily tone caught Abby’s attention, stirring the hairs on the nape of her neck. The young woman, however, merely smiled.
“You have honored me by requesting my presence.”
“I assure you that your presence is essential.”
The dark eyes smoldered with a hectic fire. “We shall be blessed above all others.”
“Yes, indeed.”
There was a sound across the chamber, and Abby shifted her gaze to discover two shadowed forms standing near the corner. They were shrouded from head to foot in heavy robes. No doubt a good thing. Abby didn’t hope for a moment they were actually human.
The woman seemed no more impressed than Abby, and her lips curled as she waved a hand toward the silent witnesses.
“Shouldn’t you be sending away those . . . pests? You surely don’t want them around when his lordship returns?”
“They are essential as well.”
“Why?”
“You will discover soon enough.”
The woman gave a harsh sound of annoyance. “I hate this waiting.”
“Patience possesses its own rewards.” Still studying Abby, the man seemed to stiffen, his head swiveling toward an opening near the servants.
The woman frowned. “What is it, master?”
“I sense a . . . disturbance. Return to Amil.”
“Now? What if the Pr—”
A cold chill abruptly filled the air. “I said return to Amil.”
Both Abby and the strange female blanched at the frozen edge in his voice. It was the voice of a man who would kill without thought or hesitation.
“Of course,” she babbled as she gave a deep bow and hurried from the room.
Seemingly having forgotten Abby for the moment, the man studied the flickering flames.
“Nothing can stop me. Not now.”
Chapter 13
Dante was waiting for the woman. She passed his shadowed form without noticing, and then it was far too late as he swiftly moved to sink his teeth deep into her throat. He was incapable of drinking human blood, thanks to the witches, but it didn’t halt him from ripping out her throat.
Without even glancing down, he dropped her lifeless form to the ground and returned to the shadows to watch his arrogant partner in crime stride into the large chamber before them.
It had been child’s play to convince Amil to release him from his chains. Evil always turned on itself, and the ambitious pup wasn’t entirely stupid. He knew quite well his master wouldn’t hesitate to feed him to the coming Prince. It was precisely what he would do given the chance.
And thankfully his puffed-up pride made him believe he could control a mere vampire.
A mistake Dante was quite willing to encourage. At least as long as he dutifully distracted the mysterious master and allowed Dante to slip away with Abby undeterred.
Should he stand in the way, Dante would ensure he made an early trip to hell.
Moving with a silence no human could match, Dante slipped behind Amil as he crossed to stand before a thin, older man draped in heavy robes. The master. Dante narrowed his gaze as he sensed the power that shimmered about the wizard.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Dante slipped deep into the shadows that surrounded the cavern. He had no desire to confront the magician directly. Not when there was a danger he might be killed before freeing Abby.
The thought of Abby made his gaze instinctively move to where she was tied to the post. He had deliberately avoided regarding her too closely. It was enough to know she was alive and seemingly unharmed. To dwell upon her obvious distress would only distract him at a time when he desperately needed to keep his mind focused.
Clenching his teeth with a cold fury, he continued through the shadows, moving toward the two robed servants who stood only a few feet away.
Across the chamber, Amil at last confronted the dark wizard. “Master.”
An icy tingle of power scoured the air, making even Dante shiver.
“Why are you here?” he charged. “Where is Kayla?”
Too stupid or too arrogant to realize just how overmatched he was, the younger wizard gave a low chuckle.
“The last I saw, she was being ripped into shreds by a very angry vampire.”
There was a furious pause. “You allowed the beast to escape?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Amil drawled.
Stepping directly behind the servants, who had not yet noticed his presence, Dante reached out to wrap his arms about their throats. With one smooth motion, he twisted both their necks until they cracked, and he lowered them to the floor.
They had never seen death coming, and he was one step closer to freedom.
There was a sharp hiss from the master. “You fool. You stupid, greedy fool.”
“No, not a fool,” Amil denied. “At least not fool enough to allow myself to become mere fodder so you can wallow in your own glory.”
There was a startled beat, as if the master hadn’t expected his student to realize his ultimate fate.
“Ah, perhaps not such a fool after all,” he whispered in cold tones. “Tell me, Amil, what do you intend to do?”
“What I should have done to begin with. Kill you and offer the Phoenix to the dark lord myself.”
Not surprisingly, the proud boast brought only a laugh from the older man. “Kill me? You?”
“You are weak from your battle with the witches,” Amil boasted, causing Dante to pause in the shadows.
So, the wizard was responsible for the carnage at the coven. Bloody hell. The sooner he could get Abby out of this cavern the better.
Sinking back into the shadows, Dante began to inch his way behind the wizard.
“You can barely conjure eno
ugh power for a summoning spell,” Amil continued his taunting.
What might have been a smile curved the thin lips as the wizard grasped the medallion about his neck.
“Not so weak as you believe.” Pointing toward the younger man, the wizard struck.
Abby was well aware there was some mystical battle brewing between the two robed men. It would be hard to miss when the younger of the two abruptly slammed against the far wall only to scramble to his feet and lunge toward the older man.
Her attention, however, was not on the dueling wizards.
She had sensed Dante the moment he had entered the room. Fierce, near-heart-stopping joy had rushed through her as she had at last spotted him creeping through the shadows.
He was alive and free and on his way to sweep her away from this horrible place.
Then her joy had faltered when the light had flickered and she had seen the wet crimson that stained his shirt. Vaguely she recalled the young man in robes claiming a vampire was ripping the woman Kayla to shreds, but somehow she had not connected it to Dante. Not until she watched as he slipped from the shadows to dispatch the servants with swift and lethal ease.
He was silent, gliding death. A ruthless killer who stalked his prey without mercy.
A chill shot down her spine as she studied the alabaster features set in a pitiless mask and the eyes that glittered with a frozen silver fire.
This was the vampire he had warned her of.
The demon who lurked beneath the image of a man.
Another chill shot through her.
But not out of physical fear. Perhaps it was ridiculously naïve, but she didn’t believe he would harm her. Or at least not intentionally.
It was more the knowledge that she had come to think of Dante as . . . what?
Her boyfriend?
Her lover?
God, she didn’t know.
And now was not the time to consider such idiotic thoughts, she told herself with a mental slap.
For God’s sake, if Dante didn’t get her untied and out of the cavern, she was about to become a midnight munchie for some evil spirit. Surely that was more important than her love life?
There was a furious screech and sounds of scuffling from the two men battling in the middle of the chamber and a prickling feel of electricity in the air, but Abby refused to take her gaze from the ever-approaching vampire.
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