Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  "My point is that I find it much more difficult to sneak through sewers. How much farther must we go?"

  As if sensing Styx's fragile control, the gargoyle became unnaturally somber.

  "There is an opening just a few yards ahead."

  Well, thank the gods for that. "And it opens into the underground parking lot?"

  "Yes. There are stairs we can take to the upper floors."

  "They will no doubt be guarded," Styx muttered, frustrated by his inability to sense through the heavy iron that surrounded him. He didn't doubt for a moment that Viper and his clansmen were already surrounding the decrepit hotel. And that the wolves were fully distracted by the horde of vampires. But he wasn't about to underestimate Salvatore. He wouldn't leave Darcy completely unprotected. "We must strike before any alarm can be raised."

  "Do not concern yourself, vampire. I have the perfect spell..."

  "No. No spells," Styx commanded in a fierce tone. "I will deal with any curs we might encounter."

  Levet gave an offended grunt. "Ungrateful sod."

  "I've seen your magic, Levet. I won't risk Darcy to your mishaps."

  The gargoyle flashed a sly smile over his shoulder. "You have it bad, ancient one."

  If he hoped to bait Styx, he was wasting his time. Styx had reconciled himself to the knowledge that his world now revolved around one tiny female. And astonishingly, it had been almost painless. Almost. "She is my mate."

  Levet fell mercifully silent as they tromped through the guck of the drain pipe. Not that Styx expected it would last. The sky was more likely to fall than this gargoyle keep his lips from flapping.

  The miracle lasted less than a minute. Clearing his throat, Levet kept his face turned forward.

  "You know it is possible that she will prefer to remain with her family?" he said.

  Styx flinched. Damn the gargoyle. The bleak thought was a distraction he did not need at this moment.

  Pushing himself ever forward through the damp, filthy drain, Styx clenched his teeth against the flare of pain.

  "I have considered that possibility."

  "And?" Levet prodded.

  The demon was either stupid, or incredibly naive. No one with the least amount of sense poked at a vampire's wound.

  "And I will not take her against her will," he gritted.

  "Really?" Levet gave a startled chuckle. That's very... unvampire-like."

  It was, of course.

  And it went against his every instinct.

  But he had learned the hard way that he couldn't force Darcy to remain at his side.

  His features settled into grim lines. "I didn't say I won't devote the rest of eternity trying to change her mind."

  There was a short pause before the gargoyle heaved a faint sigh. "She will have you, Styx. For all her good sense, she seems to have the deplorable ill taste to have tumbled into love with you."

  Styx found his heart leaping at the demon's words. Just as if he were a weak, emotional human rather than the master and commander of all vampires.

  Pathetic.

  Truly pathetic.

  But, what was a demon caught in the throes of love to do?

  "She confessed this to you?" he demanded.

  "She didn't have to. I am French." Levet gave an airy wave of his hand. "I know love when I see it."

  Styx didn't even notice when his head smacked into another low-hanging bolt.

  He knew that Darcy felt a connection to him. And that her emotions were deeply entangled.

  He even dared hope that in time she would be willing to offer herself and complete their bonding.

  What he didn't know was if was enough to overcome her deep yearning for a family.

  Gritting her teeth, Darcy continued to tug at the iron shackles. Her wrists were already swollen and weeping blood from her struggles, but she refused to admit defeat.

  Dang it, the sun had already fallen and there wasn't a doubt in the world that Styx was even now intent on his heroic rescue.

  She had to get out of here before all hell broke loose.

  Cursing and wrenching at the devil-wrought chains, Darcy nearly missed the faint prickles that raced over her skin and the low whisper that echoed through her mind.

  "Darcy."

  She stilled, her heart clutching with sudden fear. "Styx. Where are you?"

  "I am close. Are you alone?"

  "Yes, but Styx it's too dangerous," she said, speaking aloud since she had no notion if he was actually in her mind or not. "Salvatore will be expecting you."

  "The Weres are being distracted."

  Darcy didn't intend to ask what sort of distraction he had devised. She was beginning to learn that ignorance was truly bliss.

  "It doesn't matter what the distraction, he will know you are here."

  Darcy could actually feel his surge of emotions. "I do not fear a pack of dogs," he replied.

  Her own raw emotions were swift to flare. Dang it. Why did men always feel as if they had to charge into battle?

  "This isn't the time for your macho crap," she gritted. "You're going to make everything worse."

  There was a resounding silence within her mind, and just for a moment she thought that he had pulled away from her. Then, a cold chill inched down her spine.

  "You do not wish to be rescued?" he demanded. "You prefer to remain?'

  Even at a distance Darcy could easily sense Styx's grim fear. He thought she was telling him to leave because she wanted to remain with the werewolves.

  Her heart clenched as his pain was echoed within her.

  No. Oh, no.

  She had thought she needed a family to fill her heart, but that was no more than an illusion. All the love and security she would ever need could be found in the arms of her vampire.

  "Of course I don't want to stay here," she said softly. "But I won't have you putting yourself in danger."

  His rush of relief wrapped about her. "My only danger is being parted from you," he said, a hint of steel in his voice. "I cannot survive without you."

  "Stubborn," she muttered. She knew that tone. He was coming to get her. And nothing, not even hell itself, was going to stop him. "Be careful."

  His chuckle whispered through her mind. "Yes, my angel."

  Leaning wearily back on the pillows, Darcy struggled to ease the frantic pace of her heart.

  Dang it.

  What if Salvatore was linking in the shadows waiting to ambush him? The Were was desperate. And a desperate demon was surely a dangerous demon.

  Styx could be hurt. Even killed . ..

  The dreadful thought was thankfully cut off as the door was firmly pushed open and a familiar male form stepped over the threshold.

  A sharp, piercing relief flared through her as she allowed her gaze to roam avidly over the beautiful bronzed features and male body encased in black leather.

  With his raven hair pulled back in a tight braid and a long sword strapped down his back, he looked every inch the warrior, but all Darcy could see was the tender lover who had changed her life.

  "Styx," she breathed, a strange lump forming in her throat.

  There was a low, dangerous growl as Styx prowled forward to touch her wounded wrists.

  "I will kill him," he said, his flat tone more frightening than any shout could have been. "And it will be as slow and as painful as I can make it."

  "No." She turned her arm so she could grasp his cool fingers with hers. "Just get me loose so we can get out of here." The dark eyes smoldered with suppressed violence, but his touch was gentle as he grasped the iron shackles and easily broke them in two. Scrambling off the narrow bed, she heaved a deep sigh. "Thank God."

  Her feet barely hit the floor before she was gathered in Styx's arms. His lips brushed her forehead, and then he pulled back to study her bruised jaw with a narrow-eyed glare.

  "You are injured."

  Darcy grimaced as she snuggled closer to his hard body. So what if she was acting like the worst cliché? A weak, clingi
ng woman depending on her big, tough man to save her. She was too damn happy to care.

  "Compliments of my beloved mother," she muttered into his chest.

  His arms tightened as his cheek rested on top of her head. "I am sorry, Darcy."

  "It doesn't matter. She's . . ." Darcy gave a shake of her head. "Well, she's not anything like I imagined she would be. To be perfectly honest, I wish we had never met. I'd rather be alone in the world than to claim her as my mother."

  "You are not alone, Darcy." His fierce tone sent a rash of goose bumps over her skin. "You have a mate. And a family anxiously waiting for me to return you to their care."

  Darcy couldn't help but smile as she thought of Shay and Abby, and even their arrogant mates.

  They had revealed far more care and concern for her welfare than any of the Weres. Including her mother.

  Surely that was what made a family.

  "Yes," she said softly.

  She allowed herself to lean against his welcome strength until the sound of a throat being loudly cleared echoed through the room.

  "As much as I hate to break up this movie-of-the-week moment, I really think we should shake a leg," a tiny voice commanded.

  With a start of joy, she turned her head to discover the small, adorable gargoyle standing in the doorway.

  "Shake a leg?" Styx demanded, his tone puzzled.

  "Chop-chop." Levet gave a wave of his hands. "You know, get a move on it."

  Hiding her smile, Darcy tugged herself from Styx's arms to kneel before the gargoyle and kissed him on the cheek.

  "Levet."

  His gray eyes lit with pleasure. "Bonjour, ma petite. I have come to save you."

  "So I see."

  He gave a proud flap of his wings. "You are not the first, of course. I seem to make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress. It is something of a calling."

  Styx gave a loud snort, but Darcy regarded her friend with a somber expression of respect.

  She would never forget that this demon placed himself in harm's way so she could escape the vampires trying to kidnap her.

  "A true knight in shining armor," she said with unmistakable sincerity.

  Level's chest swelled with obvious pride. "Precisement."

  Moving to join them at the door, Styx muttered beneath his breath before tugging Darcy back to her feet.

  "I thought you desired to ... shake a leg?" he demanded of Levet.

  "Spoilsport." Levet stuck out his tongue before turning on his heel and leading them down the dark hallway.

  Darcy followed behind his tiny form with Styx bringing up the rear. A glance over her shoulder revealed his cold, resolute expression as he prowled through the shadows. He was in full uber-Rambo alert. And God help anything that might stray across his path.

  She sent up a silent prayer that they would manage to slip from the lair unnoticed.

  Not only did she fear for Styx and Levet, but the thought of an all-out, bloody, death-to-the-end sort of battle made her stomach clench in dread.

  She might be furious with Salvatore and her mother, but she didn't want them harmed.

  Certainly not for her sake.

  Careful not to trip over the warped planks of the floor, Darcy kept pace with Levet as he led them toward the back of the building. The heavy sense of decay only deepened as they headed down a narrow flight of stairs, and she found her gaze lifting more than once toward the low ceiling that was water stained and boasting spiders so large she half expected Frodo and Sam to appear and fight them off.

  Sheesh. She just wanted to be out of this place.

  They had made it down three flights of stairs and were creeping across the abandoned lobby when Styx flowed past them with startling speed.

  "Wait."

  He held his arms out as he turned to peer toward the distant doorway. As if on cue there was a rustle of movement, and the dark, slender form of Salvatore appeared. Darcy's heart sank as she watched a mocking smile touch the Were's lips. Salvatore had been deliberately waiting for them, and he intended trouble.

  "Ah, Styx." The pureblood performed a sweeping bow. Even in the squalid surroundings he managed to appear more like a sophisticated businessman than a lethal demon. Which only went to prove that you shouldn't ever judge a book by its cover. "Welcome to my lair, master. I was beginning to fear you would never arrive."

  Styx spread his feet and planted his hands on his hips. His expression never altered, but there was no mistaking the deepening chill in the air.

  "Stand aside, Salvatore," he commanded in a tone that made Darcy shiver. "As much as I long to rip your heart from your chest, I have no desire to upset Darcy."

  "In that we are in agreement." Salvatore sent a deliberately intimate glance in Darcy's direction before returning his attention to Styx. "Unfortunately, you have been a thorn in my side for too long. Tonight I intend to be rid of you once and for all."

  "Brave words, wolf. I hope you have brought more than yourself to accomplish such a task," Styx hissed as he moved in front of Darcy. "Not even you can be stupid enough to believe you can kill me without a great deal of assistance."

  "We shall see," Salvatore purred.

  "As you wish."

  "No ..." Darcy reached out to grasp the back of Styx's shirt. A worthless waste of effort. She captured nothing but air as he leaped toward the waiting Were.

  Her breath was squeezed from her lungs as the two demons crashed together with a tremendous force. For a moment she was lost in horrified fascination as the two grappled together, their muscles rippling with an unnatural power.

  They remained locked together as each tried to gain the upper hand. Styx had the advantage of size and strength, but Salvatore managed to use his speed to land a number of savage blows that would have killed a mortal.

  Despite Salvatore's lightning-fast strikes, however, it appeared it would be a swift battle, with Styx the obvious victor. Then a strange shimmer surrounded the Were, and Darcy felt an echoing tingle race through her blood.

  She instinctively stepped back as Salvatore gave a hair-raising howl and began to shift.

  Lily . . . crap.

  It didn't happen at once, as it had with Jade. Instead, his body seemed to fall in on itself, thickening to rip his expensive suit. Only then did his face begin to elongate and stretch as a thick fur rippled over his skin as if by magic.

  And perhaps it was magic, she acknowledged with a shudder. Although it was a painful sort of magic if the popping and snapping of his bones was any indication.

  There was perhaps a macabre beauty to the transformation, but Darcy couldn't deny a sudden, overwhelming relief that she had been genetically altered. The huge animal that now stood in the center of the room might possess a fierce strength and powers far beyond her own, but her puberty had been difficult enough without turning into a savage beast once a month.

  Jeez. Talk about PMS.

  Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, Darcy battled back her strange fascination. Already Salvatore was standing on his hind legs while his front paws darted deadly claws toward Styx.

  She had to stop this.

  She had to keep them from killing one another.

  Stepping forward without the least idea of how she was going to accomplish the Herculean task, Darcy was nearly brought to her knees when Levet unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her legs and refused to let go.

  "No, Darcy," he commanded.

  She glanced down with an impatient frown. "Let me go, Levet. Someone's going to get hurt."

  "Oui, and if you try to interfere it will be your beloved vampire," he rasped. "You will only distract him."

  Her teeth snapped together as the truth of his words sank through her fog of fear.

  Dang it, Levet was right.

  The moment she placed herself in the least amount of danger Styx would shift his attention from attacking Salvatore to trying to protect her. He couldn't help himself.

  It was like a whacky compulsion.

  Sh
e pressed her hands to her racing heart as she was forced to watch the unfolding battle.

  Styx had managed to loosen his large sword as Salvatore stalked a circle around him. Even against the pure-blooded Were, he appeared fierce and utterly invincible, but Darcy didn't miss his wariness as he waited for Salvatore to make his move.

  No matter how formidable his skills, it was obvious he respected the danger that the Were posed.

  Long claws scraped against the wooden floor as Salvatore feinted a charge and then leaped to the side as the sword slashed through the air. As he moved the Were snapped his teeth directly at Styx's neck.

  Styx easily danced from the attack that would no doubt have torn out his throat, his sword altering course to strike directly at Salvatore's heart.

  Smoothly the Were stepped out of the path of the sword, and with a movement too fast for the eye, he leaped over Styx and swiped his claws down the vampire's back.

  Darcy let out a squeak of alarm, but with Levet clamped onto her legs, she was unable to rush forward.

  Styx stumbled, but with alarming grace he was spinning about, the sword slicing through Salvatore's side before the Were could leap back.

  They continued circling one another, but even in the darkness Darcy could smell the unmistakable odor of blood. Both vampire and Were.

  "Levet," she rasped, "do something."

  His short fingers dug into her thighs. "I cannot, cherie. It will be over soon."

  "When Styx is dead?" she hissed.

  "He will not fail, Darcy," the gargoyle promised. "You must have faith."

  "Faith."

  She pressed her hands to her lips as Salvatore made another charge, the force of his movement sending both combatants onto the floor. The wooden planks groaned in protest as they rolled over and over, their fangs sinking deep into one another as they both sought to strike the killing blow. Or in this case, the killing bite.

  Darcy's stomach clenched as the smell of blood became strong enough to choke her. They were both taking injuries. Some of them ghastly enough to threaten their very existence.

  A howl split the air as Salvatore gave a mighty shove and managed to roll on top of Styx and pin him to the floor. In the shadows she could make out the muscles bulging beneath the thick fur that covered Salvatore's body and the white flash of his long teeth.