A smile that seemed almost genuine curved her mother's lips. "Then I will make you a bargain. I will introduce them to you as long as you promise you won't try to prejudice them against their own pack."
"I would never do that," Darcy protested. "Besides, if they are anything like me they will have a mind of their own. They can decide what they want for their own future."
"Then we have a deal."
"I ..." Darcy gave a slow nod of her head. "Thank you."
"You see, I'm not entirely evil."
"I'm glad to know that."
Mother and daughter regarded each other for a long moment, a tenuous harmony replacing the bitterness in Darcy's heart.
At last Sophia gave a restless shrug and began walking toward the opening of the garage. "Run along, darling. These emotional partings are really not my thing."
With a small smile, Darcy watched her mother leave. She wasn't goofy enough to ever believe they would have the sort of relationship she had always dreamed of, but just maybe they could at least find a measure of peace.
Having restrained himself long enough, Styx moved to her side, and before she knew what was happening she was being scooped off the ground and held tightly in his arms.
"Come, Darcy," he said gently. "It's time you were in your bed."
Reaching up, Darcy pressed her fingers to his lips. "Our bed."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Much to the astonishment of everyone, Styx in the end allowed Levet to fulfill his dream of driving the gleaming black Jag. Ignoring Darcy's curious gaze, he muttered something about being willing to sacrifice the citizens of Chicago just to shut up the annoying pest, but he didn't doubt his all too perceptive mate was beginning to suspect that he didn't detest the outrageous gargoyle as much as he liked to pretend.
Besides, it gave him the perfect excuse to keep Darcy wrapped in his arms.
Squealing with delight, the tiny gargoyle hopped behind the steering wheel and revved the engine as Styx commanded to be taken to his private lair. Styx settled in the passenger seat with Darcy carefully cradled in his lap. She fit perfectly, of course, with her head snuggled in the curve of his shoulder and her tiny bottom pressed against his stirring erection.
He would endure a lot more than a hair-raising trip through the dark streets of Chicago for such utter contentment, he decided.
Laving his cheek on the top of her head, he breathed deeply of her sweet scent and ruefully considered how the mighty were fallen. His once haughty dignity and cold logic were replaced with stunted gargoyles and stubborn angels. Even worse, he was now more or less related to a mangy pack of werewolves.
And he didn't even have the sense to care.
Pulling Darcy closer, Styx closed his eyes as Levet managed to take out a street sign and an unfortunate mailbox that was stupid enough to be on the sidewalk.
They had driven (if anyone could call the reckless swerving actually driving) for nearly half an hour when Darcy suddenly lifted her head to study the sleepy suburbs they were passing through with alarming speed.
"Where are we going?" she demanded.
"To my lair. My true lair south of the city."
She sent Styx a searching gaze. "Why aren't we returning to Dante's?"
"Because as soon as we arrive Shay and Abby will be nagging to fuss and flutter over you. I'll be lucky if I'm even allowed a glimpse of my own mate until they're satisfied you are unharmed. I'm a selfish beast and I want to spend the next few centuries having you completely to myself."
"Ah." She readily snuggled her head back onto his chest, a satisfied smile curving her lips. "How far away is it?"
Styx gently massaged her neck as his mouth touched the satin skin of her temple. "Several hours with Level's creative driving. I believe you will have ample time for a nap." He lowered his voice. "Trust me, your nerves will be eternally grateful if you can manage to sleep through the trip."
"Hey..." the gargoyle began to protest only to break off as he was forced to swerve to avoid a hapless garbage can.
Darcy chuckled as she hid her face and clung tight. "Perhaps you're right."
Concentrating on the sweet warmth he cradled in his arms, Styx managed to hold his tongue and, astonishingly, his temper as the gargoyle took out a final street sign and they were roaring down the road that would lead them to Styx's private lair. There were fewer objects to hit, thank God. Nothing beyond a few small pine trees and the occasional culvert.
Near three hours later, Levet screeched to a halt before the fading white farmhouse. Although it was in far better repair than the hotel Salvatore had chosen for his lair in Chicago, Styx couldn't deny that it was nothing in comparison to the lairs of Dante and Viper. Not unless someone preferred the silence of the countryside and the more natural beauty of rolling hills, dogwood trees, and the mighty Mississippi.
He dismissed the vague regret he didn't possess the sort of lavish, sprawling home that would impress his new mate. After living for years on the streets, and in cramped apartments, he suspected she would be delighted to be given the opportunity to choose the house of her dreams.
Besides, while the caves below the house might be dark and dismal, for now they provided just what he desired. Absolute safety and the sort of secluded privacy that wouldn't be interrupted.
His Ravens would arrive before dawn, and no one, absolutely no one, would be allowed to pass the threshold.
Careful not to waken the woman in his arms, Styx slipped from the car.
"Return to Viper and assure him that we are well. I will speak with him in a few days," he commanded before a faint smile touched his lips. "Oh, and Levet..."
"Oui?"
His gaze deliberately shifted to the gleaming car that now sported several dings and scratches, not to mention one very large dent in the bumper.
"You might consider leaving Illinois before Viper can get a good look at his car. He's killed for less."
The gargoyle's gray skin became downright ashen. For all of Viper's smooth sophistication, he possessed a temper that was a wonder to behold. He also possessed an obsessive love for his expensive collection of cars.
A combination that boded ill for the tiny demon.
Clearly sensing his own danger, Levet swallowed heavily.
"I will admit I've had a most overwhelming urge to visit the West Coast," he said shakily. "December in Chicago is always so dismal."
"A fine notion."
Chuckling beneath his breath at the thought of Viper's reaction to his beautiful Jag, Styx entered the house and headed directly to the cellars. From there it was an easy matter to open the secret panel that led to the vast caves that tunneled beneath the bluffs.
His footsteps never faltered despite the inky blackness and confusing maze of caverns. He could find his way through the tunnels blindfolded.
A decided chill entered the air as he traveled deeper beneath the earth and an undeniable dampness that made Darcy shiver even in her sleep.
A frown touched his brow as he altered his course. His own chambers were starkly barren and more suitable for a troll than a young woman. The previous Anasso, however, had preferred to surround himself with luxury. Darcy would at least be comfortable.
Resisting the urge to grimace, he entered the large cavern and crossed to lay Darcy on the four-posted bed draped in crimson and gold. With care he settled his lovely burden on the middle of the vast mattress and covered her with a blanket. Then, overcoming his natural aversion, he moved to strike a match to the logs in the enormous fireplace.
Once he was certain the blaze would last several hours he pulled off his heavy cape and returned to the bed. He was weary, but as he stretched out beside his mate he discovered the pleasure of studying her pale, perfect face was far preferable to sleep.
Rolling onto his side, he resisted the urge to stroke the soft skin of her cheek.
An unnecessary sacrifice as her eyes fluttered open and she regarded him with a sleepy smile.
"Styx?"
"Yes, my angel?"
"Are we at your lair?"
He smiled, giving in to his impulse to lightly cup her cheek in his hand. "This is it, at least for the moment."
She scooted up on the high bank of pillows, the movement pressing her slender body closer to his. Searing heat rushed through his blood at the contact.
"You intend to move?" she demanded.
Styx struggled to control the surge of pure lust. Having Darcy in his bed was a temptation he would never be able to ignore.
"Whenever you are ready we will choose a new lair together," he promised.
Her eyes widened before she gave a soft chuckle. "House shopping?"
"Why does that make you smile?"
"I don't know." She shifted so she was directly facing him. A move that Styx approved of whole-heartedly. "It just seems a little . . . domestic for such a fearsome vampire."
"Oh, I intend to remain fearsome." he growled, his arms encircling her so he could pull her close. "At least in some ways."
She smiled, a wicked shimmer in her eyes as she reached up to begin tugging his hair free of its braid.
"And what ways would those be?"
With a smooth motion he was tugging her sweatshirt over her head and ridding her of the jeans that were annoyingly in his path. Her scraps of satin underwear were soon piled on the floor beside the rest of her clothes.
"I think I prefer action to words," he whispered against her temple, his hands already skimming her bare skin with impatient need.
Her breath caught as his lingers cupped the softness of her breast. "I always did like a man of action," she said in a husky tone.
Styx fully intended action. A great deal of action that would leave them both sated and exhausted.
But as her hands lifted to his shoulders, he found himself gazing down at her for a long moment simply appreciating the sight of her flushed face and eyes darkened by desire. There was nothing more beautiful, more precious in the world than this woman. She had become his very reason for existence.
His heart squeezed with that strange, overwhelming tenderness that only Darcy could manage to stir.
A tenderness that even his closest companions would swear didn't exist.
"Darcy... my angel."
Lowering his head, he claimed her willing lips in a soft kiss. He didn't possess Dante's flamboyant sense of romance, or Viper's poetic nature. He didn't have the words to tell Darcy just what she meant to him, so he would have to show her.
He deepened his kiss, savoring the taste of her as his hands explored her slender curves. She was so tiny, so terribly fragile, but there was strength in her body as she arched firmly against him and dug her nails into his shoulders.
Careful of his fangs he slipped his tongue between her lips. Darcy gave a low moan as she abruptly began tugging off his shirt so she could run her hands over his chest and down to the waistband of his leather pants. Styx readily pulled back to assist her. Together they managed to get him naked and, with a deep sigh of approval, settled between her legs.
By the gods, there was nothing better than the feel of her warm skin pressed to his own. It was like being shrouded in heated silk. A fantasy for any vampire.
Dipping his head downward, he nuzzled her neck, nipping at her skin as the scent of her blood filled his senses.
With an effort he resisted the urge to slide his fangs into the curve of her neck. He was already hard and aching. The moment he tasted of her blood he would be lost.
Trailing his mouth over the line of her collarbone, he kissed the hollow beneath it before exploring the delicious curve of her breast.
Darcy gave a soft sigh as her fingers tangled in his hair.
"Styx."
"Yes, angel," he breathed, his lips closing over the hard tip of her breast.
"Styx, I want..." Her words broke off as he suckled her with growing insistence. "Wait, I can't think."
"You are not supposed to be thinking," he assured her, turning his attention to her other breast.
"But I want to complete the ceremony."
Styx froze before slowly lifting his head to meet her wide gaze.
"What did you say?"
She reached up to cup his face in her hands. "I want you to be my mate, Styx."
A fierce, near painful joy clenched at his heart, but he sternly kept his expression guarded.
"Do you know what you are saying?"
A sparkle of amusement entered her eyes. "I may look like the traditional ditzy blonde, but I usually understand the words coming out of my mouth."
His brows lowered at her teasing. "Darcy, to mate with me is not like a human marriage. You can't walk away from this. We would be bound for all eternity."
Her gaze remained steady. "Well, I don't know if I have an eternity, my love, but I do know that whatever time I have I want to spend it with you."
His fingers captured her chin as he searched her eyes for the truth of her words.
"This is what you truly want?"
"This is what I truly want."
A smile slowly curved his lips. His mate. For all eternity.
"So be it."
Her smile echoed his. "Tell me what I need to do."
Holding her gaze, Styx reached to lightly trail a linger down the curve of her neck. He could smell the warm blood that ran just beneath her pale skin.
"I must drink," he whispered softly.
He almost feared she might balk. Although she had freely given of her blood, this was more than just a feeding. It was a binding that would tie her to him with no hope of escape.
Besides, it wasn't the sort of romantic ceremony most young girls dreamed of.
But with a readiness that caught him off guard, she pressed his head down to her throat and softly urged him to take what she offered.
Styx gave a soft moan as he slid his fangs into her waiting flesh.
Swift pleasure flared through his body. He was prepared for the sensations. The intimate sharing of blood was always erotic. But he hadn't expected the surge of searing bliss that rolled through him like a thundering wave.
"Darcy."
With a low groan he slid his hand down her body, seeking the heat between her legs. To his relief he found her already wet for him. He needed to be inside her as he took her blood. To complete the binding in the most intimate way possible.
As if sensing his need, Darcy wrapped her legs around his hips and arched in silent invitation. Styx gave a soft hiss as he positioned himself and slid into her with a deep thrust.
A shudder shook his body as her tightness wrapped about him. This was paradise, he realized as his mind clouded with pleasure and his hips moved with a fierce insistence. This was the perfection of a man and woman truly mated.
Struggling against his building climax, Styx slipped his hand between them to stroke the center of her heat. He felt her shiver in pleasure, her nails biting deep into his skin.
He jerked in dark delight as her blood flowed through him. He could sense her heart, her pleasure, her boundless love, her utter commitment to him.
As if they had been seamlessly blended into one being.
And nothing had ever been so wonderful.
Styx heard Darcy's soft gasp and then the tiny ripples of her pleasure clenched around him. His brief moment of control was lost as he surged forward and poured himself into her.
"My mate," he breathed, his head lowering to press his face into the curve of her neck. "My eternal angel. My salvation."
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was a series of low curses that woke Darcy from her deep slumber. With a lazy stretch, she forced her heavy-lids open and discovered herself alone in the bed. Not surprising, she ruefully acknowledged. The past two weeks had taught her that Styx was ruthless in his demands on himself, sleeping only a few hours before returning to his endless duties of Anasso and of course, devoting a great deal of the night to pampering his mate.
Suddenly, she was no longer that lonely outcast struggling to survive w
ithout family or friends.
Turning on her side, she regarded the crimson markings on her arm with a dreamy smile. In less than a month, she had collected a family of werewolves, as well as friends who included gargoyles, demons, and goddesses. And a heart-stopping, bone-melting, to-die-for vampire for a mate.
All in all, not a bad few weeks.
With a chuckle, she pushed back the covers and reached for the heavy robe that was tossed at the foot of the bed. It was several sizes too large, but at least the thick brocade was a welcome warmth. Styx hadn't lied when he'd warned that the caves would be cold and damp.
Once again the sound of low voices floated through the air, and with a sense of curiosity, Darcy headed toward the opening.
She had never expected to be alone with Styx in the remote caves. He was the Anasso and as such must be protected by his Ravens at all times. But the five vampires who formed Styx's Secret Service were usually so silent that it was impossible to know when they were even around.
Surely something must have happened for them to be making actual noise?
Belatedly wishing she had taken time to pull on a pair of socks, Darcy entered the large room that was connected to the bedroom. Her gaze first went to the large fire burning happily in the fireplace before slowly searching the chamber to discover Styx and two of his Ravens in the center of the room.
Her eyes widened as she took in the large pine tree that was leaning precariously from the tub of sand it had been stuck in, defying all attempts by the vampires to stand straight.
Instantly sensing her entrance, the three vampires turned as one, the two Ravens giving a deep bow before silently sliding from the room.
Darcy barely noticed their retreat as she walked toward the tree with a faint frown.
"Styx ... what is going on?" she demanded.
Attired in nothing more than a pair of leather pants and his hair hanging loose down his back, the vampire looked just about as delectable as a man could look.
Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting Page 31