Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  That wasn't even to mention the blue-black hair that was intricately braided with bronze and turquoise ornaments that fell well past his waist.

  He was an exotic fantasy. Just what a woman would expect for a vampire.

  Or a raving lunatic.

  Whichever.

  Darcy tightened her fingers on the blanket and swallowed past the lump in her throat. She didn't have a clue what was going through his mind as he stared at her with that unnerving intensity.

  And to be honest, it was . . . yeah, freaking her out.

  "You haven't told me why I'm here," she charged. "Or even your name."

  He blinked. As if he was waking from a deep sleep.

  "Styx."

  "Styx? Your name is Styx?"

  "Yes."

  Darcy grimaced. It wasn't a name to inspire warm, fuzzy feelings. But of course, he wasn't really a man to inspire anything fuzzy.

  Now warm . . . hoobah.

  He was fierce, terrifying, and wickedly handsome.

  Too handsome with his unbuttoned shirt flapping open to reveal the perfection of his smooth, broad chest and the strange tattoo of a dragon that glittered with an odd metallic quality.

  Gripes, it was probably best he was no longer on the bed with her.

  It was hard to have boyfriends when you were continually worrying about accidentally hurting them. Or at the very least revealing you weren't entirely normal.

  Usually it didn't bother her. She kept her life full enough that she didn't need someone else to bring her a sense of meaning. But there were times when she was close to a man, and the scent and touch of him sharply reminded her of what she was missing.

  "Why did you kidnap me?' she demanded.

  Styx gave a lift of his shoulder. "1 must know what the Weres want with you."

  "Why?"

  A beat passed and Darcy thought he might refuse to answer her question. A real problem since she didn't imagine for a moment that she could force him. He might claim she had demon blood, but it wasn't demonic enough to take on a vampire.

  That much she did know.

  At last he heaved a sigh and met her searching gaze. "They have been creating difficulties for me."

  Hmmm. That seemed . . . suicidal.

  "You are in charge of the Weres?"

  His expression was cold, aloof. Giving nothing away.

  "They must answer to me."

  "Are they your employees?"

  "Employees?" The word sounded awkward on his tongue. "No. They owe me their fealty."

  "Fealty. You mean like serfs?" Darcy gave a short laugh. "Isn't that a little medieval?"

  A hint of impatience touched his beautiful features. "The Weres are beneath the laws of the vampires, and as the leader of the vampires they must obey me."

  She blinked. If he was crazy, he at least made sure he was the head lunatic. A madman with ambition.

  "So you're what? King of the vampires?"

  "I am the master, the Anasso," he retorted with a smooth pride.

  Darcy felt her lips quiver. She couldn't help it. There was something about such sheer, unmitigated arrogance that always struck her as funny.

  Of course, most things in life struck her as funny.

  She had discovered long ago that if she didn't laugh at the world and all its follies, then she would drown in bitterness.

  "Wow." She widened her eyes. "Mr. Big Shot."

  His expression remained unreadable, but the dark eyes seemed to flash with . . . something.

  "Mr. Big Shot? That is a human term for leader?"

  Darcy frowned. "You don't get out in the world much, do you?"

  Styx shrugged. "More than I wish to."

  "Actually, it doesn't really matter." She gave a faint shake of her head. She was glad that she wasn't the hysterical sort, but then again it was probably not the smartest thing to sit here chitchatting with the king of vampires. Or crazed lunatic. Whichever the case may be. "I've told you that I know nothing of this Salvatore. I certainly don't know anything about werewolves. I don't even believe in them. Now if you don't mind, I really need to get home."

  "I fear I cannot allow that."

  Her breath caught at the stark denial. "What do you mean?"

  "Salvatore has gone to a great effort to track you down."

  "I've told you, I can't help. I don't have any idea why he would be following me."

  "Perhaps not, but your presence will still prove to be a benefit."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  His gaze remained steady. "I believe that Salvatore wants you badly enough to negotiate for your release."

  Stupidly it took a moment for Darcy to understand what he intended. Perhaps because she hadn't seen it coming. Or, more likely, because she just didn't want to believe he would really be that coldhearted.

  She preferred to think the best of people. Even if they did happen to be blood-sucking monsters.

  Go figure.

  "You . . ." She licked her lips, not missing the way his gaze watched the movement with a dark intensity.

  Unfortunately, she wasn't sure if he was thinking of sex or dinner. "You intend to hold me against my will and then negotiate to hand me over to the Weres?"

  "Yes."

  Painfully blunt.

  "Even though you don't know what he wants from me?" she charged, with a frown. "He might want to sacrifice me for some horrible ritual. Or he might have decided I would make a tasty meal."

  Styx turned to pace toward the window, then pulled aside the heavy shutters to reveal that night had already fallen. Of course—it was December in Illinois. The sun barely rose before it was headed down again.

  Still, how long had she been asleep?

  "Salvatore would not need to go to such effort for a mere sacrifice, or even a meal," he at last said in a low tone. "I believe he wants you alive."

  "You believe?" Darcy made a rude noise. Karma or not she wasn't going to meekly allow herself to be handed over to a werewolf (if he really was a werewolf) without an argument. "I can't tell you how comforting that is. My tiny life might not be important to you, but I assure you that it's very important to me." She grabbed a pillow and tossed it at his back. With impossible speed he turned and snatched the pillow before it could touch him. Her throat went dry. Oh yeah, he was something other than human. "Please," she whispered, "I want to go home."

  His brows drew together, almost as if he was bothered by her soft plea. "Darcy, it would not be safe. If you leave this estate, the Weres will have you captured before you can ever return to your home. It is only my protection that—"

  The dark warning was cut off as the sound of a shrill, commanding voice floated through the door. It was a voice that held a thick accent and a healthy dose of French disdain.

  "Out of my way you dolt. Can you not see that I am here to bring succor to the prisoner?"

  Styx glanced toward the door, his expression one of disbelief.

  Cripes, what was coming that could shock the master of all vampires?

  "By the gods, what is he doing here?" Styx breathed.

  "Who is it?" she demanded.

  "Levet." His gaze shifted back to her. "Prepare yourself, angel."

  She tugged the blanket up to her nose. As if that could somehow protect her. "Is he dangerous?"

  "Only to your sanity."

  Sanity?

  "Is he human?"

  "No, he is a gargoyle."

  Her heart gave a sharp squeeze. Vampires, werewolves, and now gargoyles?

  "A . . . what?"

  "Do not fear. He is not at all the fearsome beast you would expect. He can hardly be called a demon at all."

  She didn't know what that was supposed to mean. Well, not until the door swung open and a tiny, gray creature waddled into the room carrying a large tray.

  He certainly possessed grotesque features with small horns and a long tail twitching behind him. But he couldn't have been over three feet tall, and the wings on his back were gossamer thin and bea
utifully patterned with vibrant color.

  Moving across the room, he offered the scowling vampire a loud sniff. "At last. I don't mean to criticize your staff, Styx, but I think they might be a few bricks shy of a full load, if you know what I mean. They attempted to halt me. Moi."

  Styx rounded the bed to glare down at the tiny demon. "I requested that I not be disturbed. They were only following my directions."

  "Disturbed? As if I could be a disturbance." Levet turned his head toward the silent Darcy. A stab of astonishment raced through her. Behind those gray eyes she could detect a gentle soul. She was never wrong. "Ah, she is as beautiful as Viper claimed. And so young." The gargoyle gave a click of his tongue as he neared the bed and placed the tray next to her. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Styx. Here you are, mignon. A fresh salad and fruit."

  Her stomach rumbled in gratitude. She was starving and the food looked perfect.

  "Thank you." She offered a smile as she reached for a slice of apple.

  His own smile revealed several rows of pointed teeth, but there was nothing but elegant grace as he gave her a sweeping bow.

  "Allow me to introduce myself, since our host possesses the manners of a toadstool. I am Levet. And you are Darcy Smith?"

  "Yes." '

  "I have been sent by my dear friend Shay to ensure that you are made comfortable. Obviously she is well enough acquainted with our dour companion to realize you would be in need of comfort." He held up a gnarled hand. "Not that I am some sort of welcome wagon, mind you. I have many very important duties that I have been forced to set aside to come to your assistance."

  She blinked, not at all sure what to think of the demon. He didn't seem dangerous, but then she hadn't thought Styx was the sort to throw her to the wolves.

  Quite literally.

  "That was very kind," she said cautiously.

  The gargoyle was futilely attempting to look modest when the vampire moved to stand directly at his side. The motion had been so swift that Darcy hadn't been able to follow it.

  Yikes.

  "Levet," Styx growled in warning.

  "Non, non. Do not thank me. Well, not unless it is in the form of cash." He heaved a deep sigh. "You cannot believe how difficult it is for a gargoyle to earn a decent living in this town."

  The bronzed face was aloof. "I have no intention of thanking you. In fact, thanking you is the very last thing upon my mind."

  Shockingly, the gargoyle responded with a raspberry. "Don't be such an old grouchy-pants. You have the poor girl terrified."

  "She is not terrified."

  Darcy tilted her chin. She would be damned if the vampire would speak for her.

  "Yes, I am."

  "Ha. You see?" Levet smiled smugly at Styx before turning his attention to Darcy. "Now you just eat your dinner in peace. I won't let the bad vampire hurt you."

  "Levet." Styx reached down to grasp the gargoyle by the shoulder.

  Whether to shake him or toss him through the window, Darcy couldn't guess.

  "Ouch." Levet took a sharp step backward. "The wings. Don't touch the wings."

  Styx briefly closed his eyes. Perhaps counting to a hundred. "I see I shall have to have a word with Viper," he rasped, spinning on his heel and heading toward the door.

  "You do that, mon ami," Level recommended. "Oh, and when you speak with that lovely housekeeper please tell her that she needn't bother with dinner for me. I prefer to hunt for my own."

  The vampire halted at the door, his dark gaze burning a path over Darcy's pale face. "Don't we all?"

  Styx had managed to track Viper to yet another of his exclusive clubs. This one was near Rockport and catered to those demons who preferred the violent sport of caged Fighting to gambling or sex.

  Ignoring the two demons who were beating each other to a bloody pulp, and the crowd cheering them on with a gruesome fury, he made his way to the back office.

  As expected he discovered Viper seated behind a heavy mahogany desk glancing through a stack of paperwork.

  The silver-haired vampire lifted himself to his feet as Styx entered the room and closed the door.

  "Styx, I didn't expect you this evening. Has your houseguest left so soon?"

  Styx narrowed his gaze, his expression cold. "Which houseguest are you referring to? The woman I was forced to capture in the hopes of avoiding a bloody war with the Weres, or the small, annoying gargoyle who is quite likely to drive me to murder?"

  Viper gave a lift of his brow, not at all successful in hiding his amusement. "Ah, then Levet arrived?"

  "He arrived. Now I want him gone."

  Leaning against the desk, the younger vampire folded his arms over his chest. "Not that I don't feel your pain, old companion, but I'm afraid I had nothing to do with sending Levet. It was Shay who insisted that your guest would need some sort of companion. She's quite convinced that you will make the poor girl miserable."

  Styx stiffened. By the gods, he had treated Darcy with exquisite care. Hadn't he ensured she had the comforts that she needed? Hadn't he answered her questions?

  And despite all temptation, hadn't he denied the fierce urge to join her in the bed and sink himself in her heat?

  A temptation that still managed to torment him despite the miles between them.

  "I have offered her no harm," he said in a warning tone.

  Viper shrugged. "Well, in Shay's defense you did torture me quite brutally the last time I visited and fully intended to kill her as a sacrifice. She might be just a bit prejudiced."

  Styx refused to apologize. He had only been doing what he thought was his duty to keep the vampires from ruin. And in the end, he had been forced to betray his own sense of loyalty to assist Viper.

  "I also stepped between you and a deadly attack," he reminded in a cool tone.

  Viper sighed. "Why do people keep claiming they saved my life?"

  "No doubt because it is the truth."

  "All right." The younger vampire gave a lift of his hands. "Perhaps—and I stress the perhaps—you did at least take a nasty blow meant for me, but that doesn't make you Martha Stewart."

  Styx blinked in confusion. "Who?"

  "Good gods, you really are out of touch. I am trying to point out that you have little experience in dealing with humans. Especially not human women."

  Styx found himself gritting his teeth. No matter how good their intention might be, no one was allowed to interfere in his dealings with Darcy Smith.

  He didn't know why. He only knew that it was an absolute rule.

  "The girl is in no danger from me." His gaze narrowed. "And even if she was, the gargoyle could hardly halt me from harming her."

  "I think Shay hoped that Levet could provide more of a ... comforting presence. It can't be easy for the woman to be kidnapped by a vampire." Viper sent him a pointed glance. "Especially a vampire who has spent the last five centuries in near isolation. Your people skills are rusty, old friend."

  "And she thinks Levet is a comfort?" Styx demanded. "More likely the gargoyle will drive the poor woman mad and I shall have to take measures to save her sanity."

  Viper straightened from the desk, his expression hard. "Actually Shay is quite fond of the little beast, and I should take it quite ill if anything nasty were to happen to him."

  Danger prickled in the air.

  "Are you threatening me?"

  Viper ignored the lethal edge in Styx's voice. "I'm offering you some friendly advice." With a smooth motion, Viper crossed toward a built-in refrigerator and removed two bags of blood. After warming the bags in a microwave, he poured the blood into crystal goblets and handed one to Styx. "Now, while you're here why don't you tell me about this woman? Have you discovered why she is so important to the Weres?"

  Styx drained the blood before setting aside the goblet. It had been hours since he had fed. He would have to take greater care if he was to have a human beneath his roof. He possessed exquisite control, but Darcy presented more than one temptation.

 
; "I have discovered nothing more than the fact that she is not a woman," he confessed.

  Viper gave a sound of choked surprise as he hastily set aside his own glass.

  "Not a woman. Don't tell me she is actually a he."

  It took a long beat for Styx to follow Viper's words. Not that he was shocked by the implication. He had lived for well over a millennium. Few things could shock him.

  "No, of course not. She is ... decidedly female, but not entirely human."

  "What is she?"

  Styx gave an impatient shake of his head. It was bothersome to admit that he couldn't solve the mystery of Darcy's blood.

  He was a vampire, for God's sake.

  Blood was his specialty.

  "I don't know. She smells human, and certainly behaves as a human, but she possesses traits of a demon."

  Viper's expression was one of curiosity. "What sort of traits?"

  "She heals far too swiftly for a mortal and has stopped aging at puberty. She also says that she is faster and stronger than most humans."

  "It certainly sounds like demon blood." Viper frowned. "Surely she must know what she is."

  "She claims that she has no memory of her parents or any family."

  "Do you believe her?"

  "Yes," Styx said firmly. "She was genuinely disturbed by her unusual powers."

  Viper paced across the rare Persian rug as he considered the unexpected twist. Like Styx, he was dressed in black, although his shirt was of the finest silk and his slacks were a rich velvet. The silver-haired vampire had always enjoyed making a fashion statement. Styx had chosen a thick black sweater and leather pants with boots.

  Not a fashion statement, just clothing that would cover him and not encumber him if he was forced to fight.

  His one vanity was the bronze bands he had wrapped about his long braid.

  Turning back, Viper gave a lift of his hands. "Mongrels are not that uncommon. Shay is one herself. But most at least have some knowledge of their ancestry. Do you think her mixed blood is why the Weres are after her?"

  It had been Styx's first thought as well.

  "It's impossible to say. Not until we know more."

  "And what of the woman?"

  "What of her?"

  Viper slowly smiled. "Is she as beautiful as her photo promised?"