Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  Salvatore growled as he struck Styx viciously in the stomach.

  "I always heard that vampires were lacking in certain aspects of their anatomy. I didn't know it meant the size of their brain."

  Styx dodged an uppercut before Salvatore gave another blow to his stomach. He flinched and then was forced to leap backward as the Were smoothly pulled a dagger from beneath his jacket.

  Freed of the immediate threat of death, Salvatore calmly straightened his tie as he glared at Styx. "I will sacrifice anything to keep Darcy alive."

  It would be a simple matter to knock the dagger aside and once again have the Were in grasp, but Styx resisted the urge.

  Bloody hell. What had happened to his aloof discipline? His cold cunning and logic?

  The Anasso did not roll around in the dirt with a common werewolf.

  "Then why did this woman attack her?"

  "Jade tends to be a bit high-strung even for a cur."

  Styx narrowed his gaze. "You expect me to believe that this... Were just happened by this warehouse and decided to attack Darcy?"

  Salvatore shrugged. "She must have been watching your estate for an opportunity to get her alone." He paused, a mocking smile curving his lips. "Speaking of which, why was Darcy here alone in the first place?"

  "Do not mistake me for a fool, dog." The dust swirled as Styx's power stirred the air around him. "Darcy may be an innocent, but I assure you I am not. You deliberately planted a fake picture to lure Darcy from my protection."

  "There is nothing fake about that picture, vamp."

  "Impossible."

  "If you wish, I can have Sophia rip out your throat to prove just how very real she is." The golden eyes glowed in the dim light. "She might anyway once she discovers you have taken her daughter captive."

  Styx paused. Could it be truer was the picture genuine? And if it was, could the woman be related to Darcy?

  He sharply thrust aside the sudden questions. Now was not the time to trouble himself with 'what ifs."

  "What is your game, Salvatore?" he demanded.

  The dark features hardened. His own power prickled the air. "There is no game. Darcy belongs to me."

  "Never."

  "You have lived long enough to never say never, vamp."

  The pureblood truly did have a death wish.

  "I will see you dead before you put your hands on her."

  "Not if I put you in your grave first."

  Styx stepped forward, quite prepared to meet any challenge Salvatore was willing to offer.

  "Is that a threat?"

  "Oh yes." The glow in the golden eyes shimmered as Salvatore battled to control his beast. "You have kidnapped my consort. No one would blame me for any retribution I might choose. Including death."

  "Consort." Styx jerked as if Salvatore had stabbed the dagger in his heart. In fact, it felt as if he had. "A pure-blood will only mate with another pureblood."

  "Exactly."

  Styx gave a low, warning hiss. The temptation to simply kill the Were and be done with it was growing by the moment.

  Surely whatever penalty he would be forced to endure would be offset by the pleasure of putting Salvatore in a nice, deep grave.

  "Darcy is not a werewolf," he gritted.

  "Can you be so sure, vamp?"

  "By the gods, this is some sort of trick."

  A taunting smile curved Salvatore's lips. Think what you will." He twirled the dagger, then smoothly slipped it beneath his jacket and began to stroll across the room. "Come, Hess, we must be on the trail of my queen. So sorry you can't join us, Styx. By the time the sun sets again Darcy will be mine. In every sense of the word."

  Styx was moving before he could even think.

  That dog put a finger on Darcy? He would see him in hell first.

  Springing forward, he was unprepared for the large form that suddenly loomed before him. He slammed into Viper with a stunning force, sending them both to the ground.

  In the blink of an eye Styx was on his feet, but so was Viper.

  "Styx, no," Viper growled, his fierce expression warning that he was quite prepared to fight Styx to keep him from pursuing the damnable Were. "It is too near dawn for you to be battling the Weres. We have to get out of here. Now."

  "And leave him free to track down Darcy?" Styx demanded, his entire body trembling with the need to follow after the Were. "He will have her long before sunset."

  A strange expression rippled over his companion's pale, elegant features.

  "If she truly is his consort then you must step aside, Styx," he said in a careful tone. "Not even the Committee will allow you to hold the mate of a king as a prisoner."

  "Darcy is no werewolf," he retorted in a frigid tone.

  "But..."

  "No more, Viper. As you have so tediously repeated, dawn is approaching."

  Turning on his heel, Styx crossed the warehouse, his power sending the dust swirling about him and the glass in the windows bursting beneath the pressure.

  He was a vampire in a snit, and anything near was in danger.

  Dammit all.

  He would not even consider the notion that Salvatore wasn't lying.

  He had to be.

  Darcy couldn't possibly be a wolfs consort.

  Not when he was absolutely certain that she had been intended by fate to be his own mate.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Darcy awoke with a cramp in her leg and a painfully stiff neck.

  Obviously sports cars were all well and good to drive around in looking spiffy, but they were a bitch for a poor woman trying to catch a few hours of sleep.

  Rubbing her neck, she struggled out of the car and glanced around the small park she had chosen to hide in.

  It was one of the carefully manicured gardens that could only be found in the most elegant neighborhoods. A place she didn't have to worry about being attacked while she slept. At least not by humans. And since she had managed to steal the sort of car that could only belong to someone with considerable wealth, not even the police had bothered to disturb her.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she sighed as she recalled the yummy granola that she had left behind in the bag Gina had brought for her.

  Dang it.

  That stupid werewolf had ruined everything.

  Of course, the woman was probably regretting her attack even more than Darcy did. At least at the moment.

  Darcy's stomach rolled again at the lingering memory of the violent confrontation. Jeez, the woman was clearly demented. How could she possibly be jealous when Darcy had barely spoken to Salvatore?

  Maybe all werewolves were simply demented.

  Or maybe she was the one demented, Darcy acknowledged with a small sigh.

  What woman with a lick of sense would be hanging around this park when she could be in her car driving as fast and as far away from Chicago as possible?

  She had picked up her belongings and started over more times than she could count. After all, she never had had anything, or anyone, to keep her in one place.

  A new town, a new job, a new beginning.

  Big deal.

  But even as the temptation whispered through her mind, she knew there was no way she was leaving.

  Not until she knew the truth of that picture.

  Pressing a hand to her rumbling stomach. Darcy slowly stilled as an odd prickling stirred the hair at the nape of her neck.

  The park seemed to sleep quietly beneath its light quilt of snow, but she instinctively knew that she was no longer alone.

  Something, or someone, was creeping through the nearby trees with a silence that was not remotely human.

  Inching her way back toward the nearby car, Darcy was fully prepared to flee when the elegant form of Salvatore stepped from the shadows. She recognized the hulking giant directly behind him from the night they had first approached her. Mr. Muscle was even dressed in the same black T-shirt and jeans, as if it were eighty degrees instead of twenty.

  Salvatore, of course, w
as garbed in yet another priceless suit. This one was a smoky shade of gray with a pinstriped shirt and perfect silk tie.

  She wondered if he bought them by the gross.

  "Cripes," she breathed, backing against the car with a sudden jolt.

  Seeing her fumble for the door latch, Salvatore took a swift step forward and held up a pleading hand.

  "Please, Darcy, don't run," he commanded, his accent more noticeable in his urgency. "I swear I'm not here to hurt you."

  She grimaced as she recalled her last encounter with a werewolf.

  "And I should believe you because . . . ?"

  He gave a shrug. "Because if I wanted to harm you there is nothing you could do to stop me."

  Well, that was calling a spade a spade.

  Or perhaps, a wolf a wolf.

  "That's supposed to be reassuring?"

  He slowly smiled. "Actually you should not need my reassurances. You have proven that you are more than capable of holding your own when necessary."

  She flinched, disliking the note of pride in his voice. Good lord, the last thing she would ever want would be to be admired for hurting another.

  "You were at the warehouse?"

  "Yes."

  "Is the woman ... is she okay?"

  "She will recover from her wounds." The dark, fiercely handsome features subtly shifted. As if his emotions rippled beneath his skin rather than over it. "But whether she will be okay is still entirely up in the air. I have yet to decide how to punish her."

  Darcy didn't bother to hide her frown. "Punish her?"

  The golden eyes glowed in the bright sunlight. She decided that it was just as unnerving at noon as it was at midnight.

  See, she wasn't entirely stupid.

  "There is no alternative," he informed her in a tone that offered no compromise. "She not only defied my direct commands, but she dared to attack you. That I will not tolerate."

  "If you ask me, I think she has been punished enough," Darcy muttered. She had no love for the woman who had tried to chomp off her head, but she refused to be used as an excuse to cause the werewolf further pain.

  Salvatore heaved a small sigh as he carefully adjusted the cuffs of his crisp shirt.

  "You really must overcome your gentle nature, cara. In our world it will get you killed."

  Her chin stuck out. She wouldn't be lectured as if she wore a child. She made no apologies for lacking a bloodthirsty nature.

  "You mean your world."

  "No, our world." The Were allowed a strategic silence to descend, his gaze carefully monitoring her every expression. "You are truly one of us, Darcy."

  Her heart gave a sharp leap. "A demon?"

  His lips parted as if he would at last answer her most pressing questions, and then with an impatient shake of his head, he deliberately glanced around the open park.

  "This is no place to speak. Come with me and I will reveal everything."

  "We can speak just fine here."

  "You are amazingly stubborn for such a tiny thing," he muttered before a rueful smile curved his lips. "It should make our life together very interesting."

  Life together? As in happily ever after? Gripes.

  She pressed against the car as she regarded him with a new sense of wariness.

  "Hold up, chief. You're getting a bit ahead of yourself," she muttered.

  "Chief?" He appeared remarkably offended. "I am a king, not a chief. You will discover that the Weres are far more sophisticated than vampires, despite our reputation as savages."

  Caught off guard by his obvious annoyance, Darcy gave a lift of her brows. "I would never mistake you for a savage. Not in a thousand-dollar suit."

  "Thank you .. ." He regarded her for a long beat. "I think."

  "That doesn't mean, however, I intend to spend my life with you."

  "But you will, you know," he assured in a dropped voice, a sensuous rasp overlaying his words. "It is our destiny."

  Darcy shivered. There was no doubt the man possessed a sheer animal magnetism. Even from a distance he managed to make her knees a bit weak. But Darcy wasn't interested in the raw, consuming passion he offered.

  She far preferred the aching tenderness of her vampire.

  The thought of Styx sent an unexpected flare of pain through her heart.

  Even though she was furious with him, and with darn good reason, she couldn't deny she missed him.

  When he was at her side she felt no fear, no uncertainty.

  She felt complete in a way that had no basis in sense or reason.

  "I'm not much of a believer in destiny. I prefer to think I have some control over fate," she said, her arms wrapping around her waist. Suddenly she felt cold to the bone. "Kind of ridiculous when you consider the situation I'm in, isn't it?"

  The pureblood abruptly shifted in discomfort, regarding her with a strange wariness.

  "Darcy, cam, you are not going to cry, are you?"

  She sniffed, surprised to discover that she was indeed on the verge of tears.

  The realization stiffened her spine as nothing else could have. Dang it. She wasn't about to shed tears over an arrogant vampire.

  Not even a vampire who had managed to lodge himself in her heart.

  "It's nothing." She gave a disgusted shake of her head. "I'm just tired and scared and hungry."

  Still appearing ridiculously unnerved by the thought that he might have to deal with a weepy female, Salvatore cleared his throat.

  "I fear I can do little about the tired and scared, but I am quite willing to feed you, if you wish." He made a sharp gesture toward his companion. "Hess."

  Moving to his side, the Incredible Hulk performed a deep bow. The black T-shirt protested, but it didn't burst open, as Darcy half expected.

  "Yes, my lord?" His voice was harsh, as if he spent more time growling than speaking.

  "Go to the nearest restaurant and bring back Ms. Smith some lunch." The golden eyes swept toward Darcy. "Do you have a preference?"

  She was too hungry to reject his offer. Besides, she couldn't deny a small measure of relief at being rid of Hess. He had a feral gaze that made her distinctly nervous.

  Like she was a pork chop being dangled just above the maws of a rabid dog.

  "No meat," she said with more emphasis than was precisely needed.

  Both men's jaws dropped open in astonishment. "No meat?" Salvatore demanded. "Are you serious?"

  "Why wouldn't I be serious? I'm a vegetarian."

  "Impossible," Salvatore breathed, clearly shocked.

  "What's wrong?" she demanded. "There are a lot of people who don't eat meat. You know it's much healthier to eat fruit and vegetables."

  "But not a—" The pureblood abruptly cut off his words, his features smoothing to an unreadable expression.

  "A what?"

  He ignored her question as he turned toward his companion. "Hess, bring back Ms. Smith something that doesn't include meat."

  A threatening growl trickled from the large man's throat. "My lord, I don't think I should leave you alone here. This could be a trap."

  Salvatore narrowed his gaze. "A very clever trap considering that it is full daylight and not even the most determined vampire would dare creep from its lair.'

  "Vampires are not the only danger."

  "True enough, but I'm not helpless."

  "I still think I should stay." Hess turned his head to bare his teeth at Darcy. "I don't trust this woman. She smells of deceit."

  "Hey . . ." Darcy began to protest only to choke off with a gasp when Salvatore lazily backhanded the man.

  Giving a startled yip, the man fell to his knees and pressed a hand to his bleeding mouth.

  "This woman is destined to be your queen, Hess,"

  Salvatore said in a dark tone. "And more importantly, I have warned you more than once that when I want your opinion I'll ask for it. Until then, you will do as I command without question? Do you understand?"

  "Yes, my lord." After climbing to his feet, Hess p
erformed a bow, then backed away with obvious caution.

  Darcy waited until Hess disappeared into the trees and the hovering sense of violence slowly eased before breathing a deep sigh.

  "Cripes."

  Salvatore moved smoothly forward, halting only when Darcy tensed at his proximity.

  "I'm sorry if he frightened you, cara," he soothed. "Curs are unruly by nature, and Hess more so than most. It makes him a less than dependable servant."

  She wet her suddenly dry lips. "He wasn't the one who frightened me," she said slowly. "Do you always hit your servants like that?"

  He shrugged. "We are werewolves, Darcy, not humans. And, like all demons, we are violent beasts. We respect strength. I am not king just because I am a pureblood. It is my power that makes me a leader."

  A chill touched her heart. "I can't believe that all demons are violent."

  "Perhaps a few can claim a more gentle nature, but I assure you, most demons depend on sheer brute force. It is the way of our world."

  Her gaze dropped as her stomach clenched with unease. She wouldn't believe she was somehow destined to become a savage beast.

  Surely it wasn't in her character, no matter how bad her blood.

  No, of course it wasn't. She wouldn't allow it to be.

  Raising her head, Darcy met the golden gaze. "Then I don't like your world much."

  Salvatore frowned at her fierce words. "You think that vampires are any different?"

  "Perhaps not." She eyed him squarely. "But I have never feared that Styx would backhand me."

  "Ah." He studied her closely. "You think I would?"

  "You tell me."

  "I would cause you pain only if that was what you desired. You are my consort, my queen. We are equals."

  Darcy frowned. Salvatore had previously hinted about and implied an intimate interest in her, but nothing like this.

  She could only imagine that he was playing some joke on her.

  "Yeah right. Me a queen, very funny," she muttered.

  He frowned, his head tilting to the side as he inhaled deeply. No doubt he was smelling what she was thinking, what she was feeling, and what she had for dinner two weeks ago.

  Freaking demon noses.

  At last he gave a slow shake of his head. "It wasn't meant to be funny."

  "Good, because it isn't," she retorted. "How the heck could I be queen of the werewolves when I'm obviously not one?"