He shrugged. "That's not a bad analogy."
She deliberately allowed her gaze to travel over his very large, very broad male form before returning to linger on his oh-so-white teeth.
Surely there had never been a more dangerous predator.
"An orphan with fangs?" she demanded.
He didn't so much as bat an eyelash, but Darcy physically felt his faint withdrawal. As if she had stirred up memories he kept deeply buried.
"They do little if you do not know why you have them or what to do with them," he at last said in a bleak voice.
Well, she hadn't been expecting that.
Her fingers gently moved to touch the chiseled lips. She never failed to be moved by his brief glimpses of vulnerability.
"What do you mean?"
"When vampires awaken we have no memories of our previous life, and no realization of what or who we are. Most die with the first sunrise, and even those who survive rarely make it beyond a few weeks. Not without the protection of an elder."
Darcy shivered at the thought of Styx being forced to endure such a traumatic transformation alone.
"Did you have an elder to protect you?"
His beautiful features tightened. "No."
"But you survived."
"Only by sheer luck, and even then I was too weak to battle those warriors who wished to use me as a slave."
She grimaced before she could halt her instinctive reaction. "I didn't know vampires had slaves. That's ... horrible."
"It was. More horrible than you can even imagine." His flat tone warned Darcy that she didn't want to try to imagine. "That was the reason I joined with the previous Anasso. He was determined to bring the vampires together as a race and to halt our habit of slaughtering and brutalizing one another."
Darcy battled back ridiculous tears. Her own childhood had hardly been a bed of roses, but she was beginning to suspect that it was nothing compared to Styx's past.
And yet he wasn't bitter or filled with a dark need for revenge. Instead of brooding on the sins of others, he had taken command of the situation and fought to better the world for all vampires.
How could a woman not fall in love with such a man?
"And you succeeded?" she asked softly.
"In part, but there is still much to accomplish." The haunting pain was replaced with a grim determination. "Beginning with our newest and most vulnerable brothers."
She studied him with genuine curiosity. "What are you going to do?"
"I will not allow foundlings to be abandoned by their makers. In the future they will be taken in by clans and not allowed to struggle to survive."
"You are a very good leader, Styx," she said softly.
He dipped his head to stroke her lips with a lingering kiss. Darcy felt the familiar heat, but before she could truly get down to business Styx was pulling back with a rueful sigh.
"A leader who needs to take care of Desmond," he admitted as he stepped back and reached for his heavy cape. "I don't want to leave you, angel, but I must."
"I know." Darcy wrapped her arms about her waist, disliking the strange chill of apprehension that trickled down her spine. "Just promise me that you'll be careful."
"That I can promise." He smiled before startling her as he removed the amulet that hung about his neck and gently pulled the leather band over her neck. With a jolt of power, the beautiful amulet settled between her breasts. He framed her face with his hands as he offered her one last kiss. "I will return to you," he swore against her lips. "I will always return to you."
"Styx..."
With a shake of his head, he pulled away and slipped silently from the room.
Once alone Darcy reached up to touch the amulet about her neck. Her fingers tingled as they brushed over the smooth stone.
Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could almost believe she could feel the presence of Styx contained in the amulet. The cool surge of his power. The fierce, relentless confidence that masked a vulnerability that few were allowed to see. The unwavering loyalty to his fellow vampires.
With a sigh she moved to stretch out on the bed. She was weary to the bone, but there was an aching emptiness deep inside her.
It was an emptiness she had to admit was directly caused by the absence of Styx.
Dang it all.
He might claim that he was the only one bound by their unexpected mating, but she knew the truth.
She didn't need any tattoos to tell her that she already belonged lock, stock, and barrel to a freaking vampire.
Chapter Nineteen
It was the delicious aroma of food that lured Darcy from her light sleep.
Rubbing her hands over her face, she sat up on the bed to discover Levet hovering in the doorway with a tray in his hands.
"Levet." She groggily glanced toward the still-dark window. "What time is it?"
"A little past three."
Meaning that she had only been asleep two hours. No wonder her brain felt as if it was stuck in first gear, and her eyes scratchy enough to use as sandpaper.
With a shake of her head, she struggled to form a coherent thought.
She wasn't remotely surprised by the first one that floated to the top of her mind.
"Has Styx returned?"
The tiny gargoyle gave a flick of his dainty wings. "Not yet, but Viper called just a few minutes ago to say they had managed to track the clan chief to a small house west of the city. They should be back well before dawn."
"Oh." She battled the stupid flare of unease. Jeez, couldn't Styx be gone a few hours without her wigging out? It was getting beyond ridiculous. She sternly turned her attention to her unexpected guest. "Is that tray for me?"
"Yes."
Darcy smiled as she slipped off the bed and stretched her stiff muscles. "Thank you. It smells delicious."
Strangely the demon hesitated. "May I enter?"
"Of course." Darcy frowned in confusion. "You know you don't need to ask."
Levet grimaced. Quite a sight considering his lumpy features.
"Actually I do."
"You do?"
"I'm not supposed to be bothering you."
Darcy gave a shake of her head wondering what was wrong with the tiny demon. Goodness knew he was hardly one to hesitate barging in wherever he wanted to go.
He was impervious to insult, entirely without manners, and had skin as thick as that of a ... well, a gargoyle.
"You're never a bother, Levet," she said in confusion.
Tell that to Mr. High and Mighty."
"Styx?"
"Sacre bleu. I have never encountered such a bossy-pants." Rolling his eyes, the gargoyle managed a credible imitation of Styx. "Darcy is hungry. Darcy is tired. Darcy must not be bothered. Darcy must be protected. Darcy must..."
With a small laugh Darcy held up her hand. "I think I get the point."
"That was only the beginning of the list. He even insisted that Viper's housekeeper be brought here so that she could fix your favorite dinner."
A small smile touched her lips as she glanced toward the waiting tray. Being independent was all well and good, but she couldn't deny a renegade flare of pleasure at Styx's obvious concern.
She had never been fussed over before, so why shouldn't she enjoy it just a little?
"I suppose Styx does tend to be a bit bossy, but you can't really blame him. He's accustomed to giving orders."
"I can blame him," Levet swiftly corrected. "And I thought you did as well. You did run from him, didn't you?"
Darcy shrugged. "Yes, well, like all men he is thick skulled enough that a woman must occasionally take strong measures to get her point across."
"I'd say you managed that. According to Viper . . ." Levet's words broke off as he tilted his head back to sniff the air. Then, without warning he was lunging forward. "Sacre bleu."
More startled than frightened, Darcy instinctively backed away, her eyes widening as the small gargoyle grabbed her arm in a firm grip.
"What are you doing?"
she demanded.
"You're mated." Levet shoved up the sleeve of her sweatshirt to reveal the crimson tattoo that stained her forearm. He gave another sniff of the air. "Or more precisely, Styx is mated. The ceremony is not yet completed."
Jeez. Could she go one day without something sniffing at her?
"So it would seem," she muttered.
Stepping back, Levet studied her with a curious expression. "You're very calm about this. You do understand what's happened?"
Darcy battled the urge to laugh hysterically.
Understand what's happened?
Hell no.
Her life had been a blur of confusion since the moment that Salvatore had walked into the bar.
Vampires and werewolves and demons...
Oh my.
"Not entirely," she admitted, with a rueful smile. "Styx claimed that it means he is somehow tied to me."
"Somehow? There is no 'somehow' about it. He is most certainly bound to you for all eternity." The gargoyle gave a slow shake of his head. "Mon Dieu. Who would have believed that the coldhearted bastard was even capable of mating a woman?"
Darcy sent her companion a withering glare. Or what she presumed was a withering glare. She had never been entirely certain, but it always seemed to work in romance novels.
"He is not coldhearted. In fact, he possesses the most generous, loyal heart of anyone I've ever met."
Levet blinked in surprise at her fierce tone. "I will have to take your word for it, since he most certainly does not reveal it to the rest of us riffraff."
"That's only because he isn't used to showing his feelings."
"No shit," Levet muttered.
Why did everyone persist in treating Styx like the Darth Vader of the demon world?
He devoted his entire life to protecting those demons he considered his responsibility without asking anything in return. They should be showering him with gratitude, for goodness sake.
"That doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Or that he can't be hurt when he is constantly misunderstood."
"Perhaps." Levet appeared far from convinced, but he dismissed her arguments from his mind and allowed his attention to return to her arm. Suddenly he began to laugh.
Darcy frowned. "What's so funny?"
"It just struck me that you have leashed the most powerful demon in the entire world. I do not know whether to congratulate you or offer my condolences."
Ah.
Actually she didn't know either.
So far she had alternated between sheer terror and a peaceful bliss.
Not the most comfortable of mood swings.
"Styx is hardly leashed," she protested.
"Oh, but he is." Levet's smile became downright wicked. "And it's so deliciously ironic. Female vampires have been attempting to lure Styx from his self-imposed celibacy from them for centuries. They will be gnashing their fangs in fury when they discover he is mated."
"Great." Darcy rolled her eyes. If Levet had dropped by to offer comfort, he was sucking big-time. "That's all I need. A pack of angry vampires after me."
"Oh no." The delicate wings gave a sharp flutter, making the beautiful colors shimmer in the faint light. "There's not a vampire alive or dead who would dare to harm the mate of their Anasso. They may wish you in hell, but they will fight to the death to protect you."
Okay. That sounded better.
At least marginally better.
"Maybe, but as you said, the . . . ceremony is not complete," she felt compelled to point out. "Nothing has been decided."
Levet winkled his lumpy brow. "Maybe not for you, but it most certainly has been for Styx. That mark on your arm proves that he is bound to you for life. To the vampires you are now their queen."
She wrapped her arms around her waist as a shiver raced down her spine.
Queen? Her?
Well, that was just... pathetic. For the entire vampire race.
With a shake of her head, she paced restlessly across the floor.
"This is all moving too fast," she muttered. "Way, way too fast."
"You don't believe in love at first sight?"
She determinedly kept her face turned from the tiny gargoyle to hide her rueful expression. There was a time when she wouldn't have believed in such nonsense. She hadn't been certain true love existed at all.
To her it was a myth just like vampires and werewolves. How could she accept something she had never seen for herself?
Now she believed.
In both demons and love.
But love at first sight?
Oh yes.
Unfortunately, she had yet to convince herself of happily ever afters.
Slowly turning, she regarded Levet with a faint smile. "I suppose 1 believe. What of you, Levet? Do gargoyles fall in love?"
Surprisingly, a wistful expression settled on the ugly features. "Oh yes. We are like most demons. We have one mate and it is for eternity."
Darcy silently chastised herself as she sensed she had touched a nerve. Rats. She would never want to hurt the small demon. Not when she was certain he had spent a lifetime enduring insults and taunts.
"You said most demons," she said softly, hoping to distract him while discovering more of the world she had been tossed into. "What of werewolves?"
As she hoped, the tiny face cleared and a smile returned to his lips. "Ah. I must admit you have me there."
"No death til we part?"
"Centuries ago the purebloods did occasionally share a monogamous relationship, but to be blunt, they have become desperate for children." He gave a goofy waggle of his brows. "Most Weres nowadays are notorious for their sexual appetites. Especially the females, who can have a dozen or more lovers at a time."
"Ew."
Levet shrugged at her shudder of distaste. "The fear of extinction is a powerful aphrodisiac, mignon, and producing a litter is far more important than true love."
Darcy grimaced. Ick. She was no prude, but the thought of being expected to take on a dozen lovers was not at all what she wanted to hear.
Especially when she couldn't imagine allowing any man besides Styx to touch her.
"Then Salvatore's claim he intended to make me his consort was nothing more than a load of bull?"
Levet's eyes widened. "He said that?"
"Yes."
There was a pause before Levet was laughing with open delight. "Sacre bleu. No wonder Long Tooth was in such a tizzy. Vampires are a pain in the ass under the best of circumstances, but they become raving lunatics when they are first mated. And to have another male sniffing around—" he gave a dramatic shiver "—God help anything that crosses his path. He'll kill first and ask questions later."
Instinctively Darcy glanced toward the window. That strange unease was once again setting up shop in the pit of her stomach.
"I don't care what his mood is. I don't like the thought of him out there tracking some renegade vampire."
Moving forward, Levet lightly patted her hand. His skin was rough and leathery, but his touch was a welcome comfort.
"It would take more than a mere vampire, renegade or not, to harm Styx." He gave a flutter of his wings. "Trust me. I've seen him in action."
Darcy forced herself to remember watching Styx practicing with his sword. She couldn't deny that he had looked like sudden death in leather pants.
The image, however, did nothing to ease her concern.
"Maybe, but I have a bad feeling."
Levet frowned. "You have premonitions?"
Darcy found herself moving to the window and pressing a hand to the cold panes.
"Like I said ... I have a bad feeling."
It had been a simple matter to follow the renegade vampire through the dark streets of Chicago. Desmond had left behind a trail of dead hellhounds, fairies, and two imps. It had been slightly more difficult to follow his scent through the suburbs and out of town to the farmhouse that was astonishingly close to Viper's lair, that Styx had so recently been sharing with Darcy.
Slightly more difficult, but not difficult enough, Styx acknowledged as he knelt in the overgrown hedge that surrounded the shabby home.
Peering through the murky darkness, he studied the two-story house that had certainly seen better days. The white paint was peeling, the roof was sagging, and more shutters were missing than not. Even the windows had been cracked and busted from their frames.
It was not, however, the less than pristine condition of the home that troubled him. His own lair near the banks of the Mississippi River would never make the pages of Fine Living. Hell, it probably wouldn't make the pages of "Barely Scraping By."
What troubled him was the fact that he and Viper not only had managed to follow the clan chief without difficulty, but now had slipped close enough to the house to touch it without encountering one single guard.
Brooding on his simmering unease, Styx watched as Viper flowed through the deepest shadows and joined him in the hedge.
Styx waited until his companion was crouched beside him before breaking the heavy silence.
"The clan chief is within?"
"Yes." Viper shrugged, his eyes glowing with the promise of coming violence. Once a warrior, always a warrior. "He's barricaded in the basement with two other vampires."
Styx frowned, his own bloodlust smothered by his sense that something was wrong.
"Just two?" he demanded.
"Yes, and neither powerful," Viper confirmed.
Styx clenched his hands as he glared at the house. "I don't like this."
"What's not to like?" Viper demanded, clearly anxious for a good fight. "By going to ground they've trapped themselves."
"Or set the trap."
Viper stilled as he studied Styx with a narrowed gaze. "Do you sense something?"
"Nothing."
"And?"
"And that's what troubles me."
"Ah, of course." The vampire gave a lift of his brows. "Perfectly reasonable to suppose that because you can sense no trouble there must be some brewing."
"Exactly."
"Bloody hell, I should have left you with Dante. Newly mated vampires should be locked away for the sake of their own sanity. And mine," Viper muttered beneath his breath.
Styx ignored the less than complimentary confidence in his hunting skills. He had always been far less eager to use brawn when brains would serve him better.
Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting Page 23