No, it was more than disoriented, she acknowledged as she showered and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
There was a fuzzy thickness in her head, as if someone had packed it full of cotton.
Strange considering she couldn't be hungover. She didn't drink (rather ironic considering she was a bartender). And she didn't feel as if she was coming down with a nasty bug.
Could it be that the blood she had been donating to Styx was beginning to take its toll?
Troubled by the faint headache and niggling sense that all was not well, Darcy made her way downstairs.
No doubt a good meal and a breath of fresh air were all she needed.
And perhaps a vampire kiss or two.
The thought was enough to warm her blood and bring a weak smile to her lips as a familiar silent form slid from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.
"Good evening, DeAngelo."
The demon performed a small bow that always managed to catch Darcy off guard. Even though vampires seemed to adapt to the vast changes they must endure over the centuries, they still retained a hint of old-world manners that were rarely displayed in this day and age.
"Lady Darcy."
Lady. She ran a rueful hand through her short, spiky hair. Not freaking likely.
"Have you seen Levet or Styx?"
Straightening, the demon regarded her from the depths of his cowl. "I believe they have traveled to Viper's."
A stab of disappointment raced through her before she could ruthlessly squelch it.
Jeez.
She really had tumbled into the realms of la-la land.
"Okay." She managed another weak smile. "Is dinner ready?"
"It is prepared and waiting for you in the kitchen."
"Great."
There was another elegant bow. "If there is anything else you need, you have only to tell me."
Darcy skirted the vampire and made her way to the kitchen.
The Ravens didn't frighten her, but they did occasionally make her feel a bit squirrelly. She wasn't used to having so many people around her, human or demon. At times she felt like a peculiar experiment being closely monitored by a herd of scientists.
Even when she couldn't see them, she could feel their gazes following her.
Of course, there were some benefits, she acknowledged as she entered the kitchen to discover a vegetable casserole waiting for her in the oven and a large bowl of fresh fruit already set on the table.
After filling her plate, she took her place at the table and prepared to enjoy the delicious dinner.
She had barely settled in her chair, however, when a wave of dizziness swept through her and she nearly tumbled to the floor.
What the heck?
Her hands lifted to press against her temple. Along with the dizziness there was the strangest sense of deja vu that was stabbing through her brain.
It made no sense. It was as if there was a memory trying to surface, but someone else's memory, not her own.
Trying not to panic at the uncomfortable sensations, Darcy sucked in a deep breath and battled to make some sense of the images.
There was something ... Levet, yes. The gargoyle was standing in the kitchen holding an envelope in his hands. And she was reaching for it...
What was in the envelope?
Pictures.
Pictures of herself. And someone else.
Her head throbbed, and then, with a sharp motion she was on her feet.
"That son of a bitch," she hissed with trembling fury.
Styx knew something was wrong the moment he approached the secluded estate.
He could feel the vibrating tension of his Ravens as he drove through the high, iron gate.
After pulling the Jag to a squealing halt before the door of the mansion, Styx shot out of the car and charged into the house.
The first thing that hit him was the unmistakable stench of smoke.
Holy freaking hell.
There had been a fire. And very recently. Perhaps not a shocking scent in most Chicago homes in winter. Humans quite often burned logs to ward off the northern chill. But a vampire would rarely allow an open blaze anywhere near. Especially not within his lair.
Without slowing his charge, Styx passed through the darkened foyer and into the living room, where he discovered DeAngelo and two other Ravens speaking in low voices.
At his entrance they turned to regard him with troubled expressions. His heart squeezed with sudden unease.
For a vampire to look troubled meant that there was something terribly, horribly wrong.
"What has happened?"
"Master." DeAngelo offered a deep bow. "I fear we have failed you."
The unease became an unbearable howling fear. "Darcy? Has she been harmed?"
"No, my lord, but she has . . . escaped," the vampire revealed with obvious self-disgust.
For a blinding moment Styx could feel nothing but overwhelming relief. Darcy wasn't hurt.
He could bear anything but that.
Styx ignored the Ravens, who studied him with stoic apology. It was taking a staggering amount of effort to compose his normally cool and logical mind.
At last he managed to latch onto a few coherent thoughts.
The first being the unpleasant realization that there had been some urgent need for Darcy to have escaped.
He didn't believe for a moment that she had simply awakened and decided to escape his "evil" clutches. After all, she had been with him for days and had never made an effort to flee.
His effort to wipe her memories had clearly been unsuccessful.
The thought twisted his stomach with dread.
Dammit, he should have taken into consideration that she wasn't entirely human. After all, there were any number of demons capable of withstanding the enthrallment of a vampire.
If she had managed to remember, then she not only was missing, but more than likely was already searching out Salvatore.
Bloody, bloody hell.
"How?" he abruptly demanded, his sharp tone making the waiting vampires flinch.
"She started a fire in the kitchen, and while we were distracted she used the tunnels to make her way out of the house," DeAngelo confessed.
So that explained the smoke.
"Clever of her," he grudgingly admitted. "She managed to comprehend the one certain means of distracting a house filled with vampires."
DeAngelo flashed his fangs in annoyance. "It was not so clever that we should have been fooled. I have no excuse."
Styx waved aside the dark words. His only thought was following Darcy and bringing her back where she belonged.
"How long has she been gone?"
"Less than two hours."
"Two hours?"
"The fire was started shortly after midnight, but we didn't notice Lady Darcy missing until a few moments ago."
A cold fear sliced through his heart. Two hours? It was too long. "Damn. She could be anywhere by now."
"Will you go in search of her?"
Styx briefly wondered if his second in command had lost his mind. Not even all the demons in hell could stop him from tracking down Darcy Smith.
Of course, you will have to lake care, a warning voice whispered in the back of his mind.
He didn't doubt for a minute the estate was being constantly watched by the Weres. But if Darcy had managed to leave without them seeing her, he certainly didn't want to alert them to the truth.
With any luck at all he might be able to track down the aggravating woman and have her back before she could discover a means to contact Salvatore.
Luck.
He squashed the urge to howl in frustration.
He was a vampire who depended on cool logic and perfectly executed plans. He did not trust his fate to fickle luck.
Not until tonight.
May the gods have mercy on him.
The taxi dropped Darcy off at a run-down warehouse in a run-down industrial park.
It wasn't the ni
cest neighborhood. Actually, it was dark, dirty, and unnervingly isolated. But with the meter ticking away she didn't have a lot of options. Her small amount of cash wasn't going to take her far.
Still, the warehouse south of Marengo wasn't a bad place to wait for CIA to arrive with her belongings.
It was hardly the first spot anyone would look for her, and since it had been nearly gutted by a fire about three months before, she had a vague hope that the herd of vampires who were no doubt on her trail would fail to catch her scent among the lingering odor.
Not the best of plans, but it wasn't as if she had a dozen better ones to choose from.
She had known she would have one chance, and one chance alone, to escape from Styx. There had been no time for complicated schemes and failproof plots. She had set the fire, said a prayer, and taken off through the tunnels as fast as she could.
The mere fact that she had managed to flag down a taxi and travel this far was nothing short of amazing.
Wrapping her arms about her waist to ward off the sharp chill, Darcy stomped her feet and peered into the thick darkness.
After what seemed an eternity she heard the unmistakable sound of Gina's piece of junk car and she hurried to the side door where she had told her friend to meet her.
Within moments CIA was hurrying toward the door, excitement crackling about her with a near tangible force.
"Darcy? Holy guacamole, it's you."
Darcy gave a nervous glance around the empty lot before pulling CIA into the warehouse. "Of course it's me. Who did you think it would be?"
CIA shrugged. "I thought you were dead."
Darcy blinked in astonishment. "Why on earth did you think I was dead?"
The slender woman dropped the heavy bag she was carrying onto the floor.
"Well, duh. You disappeared from work without a trace, you didn't answer your cell, you weren't at your apartment, and the pizza joint you deliver for said you hadn't shown up for any of your shifts. What was I supposed to think?"
"Oh." Darcy had never actually considered the thought that anyone would think she had died. Cripes. What about her jobs? Her apartment? If she found herself on the streets again she really was going to stake that damn vampire. "Did you call the police?"
CIA appeared startled by the question. "No."
"Even though you thought I was dead?"
"Dead is dead." CIA shrugged. "It's not as though the police can bring you back or anything."
"I suppose you have a point," Darcy ruefully acknowledged. She couldn't really blame her friend. CIA did many things to make ends meet, not all of them legal. "Did you manage to get the money for me?"
"Yeah, it was hidden in your locker just like you said." CIA kneeled by the leather bag and opened the zipper. "You know, I would never have thought to hide it in a tampon box."
Darcy chuckled as CIA handed her the fifty-dollar bill she always kept hidden in one spot or another.
"Even the most determined thief seems allergic to feminine hygiene products." She slipped the money into her pocket. "What about the coat?"
"I brought it, although I can't imagine you wearing the nasty thing." CIA pulled out the frayed army jacket that belonged to one of the bouncers. She grimaced as she handed it to Darcy. "It smells just like Bart. Ugh."
"It's definitely a distinctive aroma," Darcy agreed as she reluctantly forced herself to pull on the heavy coat. It reeked of cigarette smoke, beer, and things she didn't want to think about. A perfect means to disguise her own scent. And smelly or not, it was warm.
"I also brought you some food." CIA dug through the bag to reveal a box of granola bars.
"Thanks."
"Oh ... I almost forgot. You remember that gorgeous mobster who came in the night you disappeared?"
Darcy grimaced. Did she remember? It was etched into her brain with full Technicolor detail.
"He's pretty tough to forget."
"No doubt." CIA heaved a deep sigh. "What a yummy bit of eye candy."
"What about him?"
"He came back a night or two ago and left this for you," CIA said as she straightened and pressed the small object into her hand.
"He left a cell phone?"
"Yeah, he said that if you came back that you might want to give him a call on it." A hint of envy entered Gina's gaze. "Pretty romantic, if you ask me."
Darcy's stomach clenched. Despite the fact that she had left Styx with every intention of seeking out the werewolf, she hadn't forgotten Salvatore's strange, possessive manner or the numerous pictures that Levet had discovered in his lair.
What sort of man went around snapping photographs of strange women?
Weirdos, that's who.
"Only if you're interested in the psychotic stalker sort of guy," she muttered.
"Hey, if you don't want him I'll gladly take him off your hands," CIA groused.
"Trust me, CIA, you don't want any part of this man."
"Of course not." The woman rolled her eyes. "What would I do with a drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man who, for a miracle, isn't gay?"
Damn. The last thing Darcy wanted was for her one friend to become entangled with the ruthless demons who now invaded her life. Unfortunately, there was no way to truly warn her of the dangers. Not without CIA assuming that she was completely nuts.
"Would you believe he's a wolf in an Armani suit?" she hedged.
CIA frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just stay away from him. He's . . . dangerous."
"Oh my God." CIA raised a hand to her mouth. "He's a drug lord, isn't he?"
Well, it was as good a lie as any, Darcy decided. "Something like that."
Typical." CIA made a disgusted noise. "It's just like my grandmother always says."
"What does she say?"
"If something seems too good to be true . . ."
Darcy gave a humorless laugh. "You're preaching to the choir, sister," she muttered, her thoughts painfully turning to Styx and his ruthless manipulation of her memories. Her fingers curled tightly around the phone in her hand. "I have to go."
"Where are you going?" CIA demanded.
"I'm not really sure." She managed a stiff smile. "Thank you, CIA, and please promise me you'll be careful."
"Me?" The woman deliberately glanced around the disaster of a building. "I'm not the one playing hide-and-seek in a nasty warehouse."
"Just promise me, please," Darcy insisted. She would never forgive herself if CIA was harmed.
"Sure, whatever. I'll be careful."
With a shrug the woman turned and walked out the door. Within moments Darcy could hear the sound of a car starting and roaring out of the parking lot.
Alone, she sucked in a deep breath and stared at the phone with a large lump of fear lodged in the pit of her stomach.
This was it.
Flipping open the phone, she studied the one number that was listed under contacts.
She had the means she needed to contact Salvatore.
Now all she needed was the nerve to do it.
Salvatore was in his office studying the large stack of reports that had recently arrived from Italy.
It would no doubt shock the entire demon world to learn that Salvatore possessed a staff of the most talented scientists and doctors in the world. They liked to dismiss Weres as savage dogs without intelligence or sophistication. How else could they justify keeping the werewolves imprisoned and oppressed?
Salvatore was quite happy to keep them in the dark. Eventually they would learn just how wrong their assumptions were, but not until the last of his plans fell into place.
And for that he needed Darcy Smith.
The image of her fragile features had barely formed in his mind when, with a haunting sense of destiny, his cell phone broke the thick silence.
Frowning at the interruption, Salvatore automatically checked to see who would be bothering him at such an hour. His heart came to a halt as he recognized the number of his second cell phone.
&nbs
p; The one he had left for Darcy.
After flipping the phone open, he pressed it to his ear even as he was hurrying from the room and motioning for Hess, who had been standing guard at the door.
"Cara?" he said in a soothing tone. There was silence at the other end although his enhanced hearing could easily pick up Darcy's ragged breath. "I can feel you there. Speak to me, Darcy."
"I... want to meet," she at last rasped.
Salvatore leaped down the stairs and then another set as his entire body hummed with electric excitement. He could sense the worried wariness in Darcy's voice, but there was something else there as well. A hint of defiance.
Whatever her fear, she was determined to confront him.
Which could only mean the gargoyle had revealed the picture that Salvatore had planted for him to find.
"It is what I want as well, cara, although you will have to forgive me if I prefer our encounter to take place somewhere other than a vampire lair." Salvatore took the last of the stairs and moved across the crumbling lobby. "You are welcome to join me at my own humble home. It may not be as elegant, but I can promise that you will be a most honored guest."
"No. I want to meet somewhere public. Somewhere that I'll feel safe."
He wasn't bothered by her sharp tone. She was an intelligent woman. It was only natural for her to be suspicious.
After leaving the building, Salvatore smoothly crossed to the waiting Humvee and slid into the passenger seat. Hess was just as quick as he took his place behind the wheel and turned over the engine.
"How many times must I assure you that I would never hurt you, cara?" Salvatore demanded, flicking on the GPS system. A smile touched his lips as the tracking system that he had installed in Darcy's cell phone flicked to life. She was a good distance away in an abandoned warehouse west of the city, but she was well away from the protection of the vampires. "You are the most important thing in this world to me."
He sensed her disbelief. And the fragile fear that clutched her. She felt vulnerable, and the least hint of threat would send her running.
"Will you meet me someplace public or not?" she demanded.
"I will meet you anywhere you desire," he assured her softly.
"And I want your promise that you'll come alone."
Salvatore was slammed against the passenger door as Hess raced through the empty streets at a hair-raising speed.
Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting Page 15