Managing a tight-lipped smile, the old witch halted before Abby. “My lady. And the guardian.” The hard gaze flicked over Dante before the woman waved a hand toward the cavernous room. “Come in and be welcome.”
Dante felt Abby’s hesitation before she was cautiously moving to take a seat on a leather chair beside the empty fireplace. Dante stood behind her, his body tense and ready to strike.
Just for a moment the unrelenting gaze of Edra weighed his protective stance, as if judging whether or not he would prove to be a hindrance to her plans.
Whatever she decided was not visible on the ancient face. But since he was still standing, he presumed she had concluded he was no threat.
For the moment.
In the blink of an eye, her attention returned to Abby’s pale face.
“We have not yet been introduced, although I feel as if we are intimately acquainted. I am Edra.” Her gaze narrowed. “And you are?”
“Abby Barlow.”
“Ah, the servant,” she murmured. “I should have realized you would be the only one near enough to have taken the Phoenix.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Abby assured the woman dryly. “If I had realized what was going to happen, I would have run screaming in the opposite direction.”
“Quite understandable.” Something that was no doubt supposed to be sympathy touched the lined face. “You look exhausted, my dear. May I get you some wine?”
Abby nervously cleared her throat. “No, thank you.”
“Very well.” There was a short, thick silence. “You are well? You have had no difficulty in carrying the Phoenix?”
“Beyond being chased by every demon and dark wizard in Chicago?”
A gnarled hand waved in an imperious motion. “I mean physically. There is no pain? No sickness?”
“My eyes have turned blue, and I have a tendency to light people on fire, but besides that I feel all right.”
“That is a relief. Still . . .” The woman moved close to bend over the chair, ignoring Dante’s low growl as she reached out to touch Abby’s cheek. “Perhaps you will not mind if I take a moment to ensure the Phoenix is unharmed by . . . recent events?”
Abby shuddered beneath the woman’s touch but didn’t pull away. “If you must.”
Edra closed her eyes as she murmured beneath her breath. Dante couldn’t feel the magic, but he knew it was being woven. His hands clenched at his side. Bloody hell, he hated this.
“It is well, thank the blessed Goddess,” the woman breathed. Then, without warning, she gave a sharp gasp and stumbled backward, her hand pressed to her heart. “Oh . . .”
Abby clutched the arms of the chair. “What?”
With an effort, the witch wrestled control of her composure. Her hand, however, remained an angry red.
The Phoenix had struck out at her.
What the hell did that mean?
“You possess a great deal of power. More than Selena.” She narrowed her gaze before she gave a faint nod. “You shall do well.”
Never stupid, Abby regarded the witch with tense suspicion. “Do well?”
“As the Chalice, of course.”
The words were smooth, but Dante didn’t believe them for a moment. His hand dropped to Abby’s shoulder as he regarded the witch with a cold threat.
“We are here for you to remove the spirit.”
The candles abruptly flared. A not-so-subtle warning of her sheathed power.
“Impossible,” Edra snapped. “The Phoenix has already taken possession of her body.”
“Then bloody well find another body,” he growled.
Her gnarled hand lifted. “Careful, beast.”
Violence hung in the air, and with a nervous motion, Abby was out of the chair.
“Look, I understand your concern, but there’s no way I can be your . . . Chalice,” she muttered in an obvious attempt to halt bloodshed. “I didn’t ask for this, I was never trained, and quite frankly I’m sick of scary things trying to kill me.”
Edra sent her a fleeting gaze, her attention remaining on Dante. “You’re with us now. We will see to your training as well as keep you safe.”
“As you did Selena?” Dante mocked.
“Selena brought on her own demise.”
“How?”
“It is not your place to question what occurs among the coven,” Edra snapped.
“But it’s mine,” Abby intruded again. “And I want to know what happened to Selena.”
“We shall discuss Selena later.”
Dante hid a smile at the imperious command in the witch’s voice. It was custom-designed to set Abby’s teeth on edge.
He was not disappointed as his mate narrowed her gaze and mentally dug in her heels.
“No. I want to know how she died.”
Edra stiffened. The old witch was accustomed to commanding her underlings with an iron fist. Even Selena had grudgingly conceded to her authority.
Surprisingly, however, something that might have been wariness flickered over the lined face as the witch studied the younger woman.
“She attempted a spell well beyond her capabilities,” she abruptly confessed.
“What sort of spell?” Abby pressed. “What did it do?”
“It . . . protected her from demons.”
She was lying.
The knowledge hung thick in the air.
“I thought the Phoenix could protect itself,” Abby challenged.
“Against most enemies.”
“Did she fear being attacked?”
“It is always a fear.” The lined face hardened with hatred. “The darkness hovers and awaits the opportunity to regain what it has lost. There are evil forces in the world that will halt at nothing to destroy us.”
“Yeah, I’ve been introduced to a few of them,” Abby muttered. “Which is why I want this . . . this thing out of me and into someone who knows what they’re doing.”
There was a tense pause before the witch reached out to pat Abby’s arm in an awkward motion.
“We will consider what is best to be done, but first you will desire a short rest. I can sense your weariness.”
The woman turned and headed for the door before Abby could argue. Dante moved faster.
In the blink of an eye, he was standing in the doorway, his fangs exposed.
“Abby will need her herbs.”
Edra gave a blink of shock at his sudden appearance before an expression of regal disdain settled on her thin face.
“Of course.”
“And I will need blood.”
The disdain deepened. “It will be attended to.”
Dante waited a long beat before stepping aside and allowing the witch to leave the room.
He hoped that she sensed just how fiercely he desired to kill her on the spot.
Chapter 23
Abby felt like a bottle of champagne that had been shaken until it threatened to burst.
She didn’t know her nerves could be wound so tightly. Or that she could feel so cold in a room that was smothering.
Worse, she didn’t know if it was being in the lair of the witches that was making her so unnerved or the sight of her lover standing in the doorway.
In the shadows, he might have been carved from the purest marble. There was no expression on the alabaster features. No flicker of life in the flat silver eyes. Not a muscle twitched in the tall, elegant body.
He might have been a beautiful mannequin if not for the fangs that glittered in the candlelight.
She at last cleared her throat. “Dante?”
There was not a flicker of an eyelash. “Yes?”
“You’re looking a bit fangy. Are you all right?”
There was a long moment before a ripple raced through him and he slowly turned to meet her gaze.
“I don’t like being here.”
“Neither do I,” she muttered, wrapping her arms about her waist. “It’s smothering in here but I’m freezing. It doesn’t make any sense.”
> His brows lowered. “Magic?”
Abby considered. She was hardly an expert. Hell, she wasn’t even an amateur. More like a bumbling buffoon.
Still, she could feel something in the air. A sense of foreboding that tingled over her skin and clutched at her stomach.
“More like magic waiting to happen,” she attempted to explain the odd sensation. “It’s like an approaching thunderstorm. You can feel the electricity in the air before it ever hits.”
“So what are they brewing?”
She shivered as she moved to stand directly before Dante. She had hoped that meeting the witches would ease her vague fears. Instead the urge to flee was more overwhelming than ever.
There was something . . . foul in the air.
A hint of rotting disease just below the surface.
“I don’t know.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Maybe we should just go, Dante.”
“No.” He covered her hand with his own. His expression was grim. “Not until you’re safe.”
“She didn’t sound like she’s overly eager to rid me of the Phoenix.”
“If you convince her that you won’t be jerked around like a puppet on a string, she will be forced to find a new Chalice. The coven considers the Phoenix as their own, and they won’t lose control. Even if it means endangering the spirit.”
“You mean just be myself?”
The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. “Exactly.”
“And what of you?”
His expression became shuttered. “I can take care of myself.”
Abby swallowed a sigh. It was his me-Neanderthaland-I’ll-be-stupid-if-I-want expression.
Vampires.
“Not if they leash you to a new Chalice. You will be at their mercy.”
His shoulder lifted. “I am already at their mercy. It won’t change much.”
Her brows snapped together. “I want you freed.”
“One thing at a time, lover.” His hand lifted to cup her cheek. “First we must make sure Edra understands you are serious about ridding yourself of the Phoenix. I had hoped she would have already chosen another Chalice and would be eager to assist us. As it is . . .”
“What?”
His fangs snapped together. “She may look old and fragile, but she wields magic like a gladiator wields a sword, and she doesn’t care who gets hurt when she takes a swing. We must be careful to convince her to release you without making her fear you might be an enemy.”
“So you want me to stand up to the witch but not stand up to the point that she wants my head in the stewpot.”
“Something like that.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t ask much.”
His expression was somber. “This is important, lover.”
“I know.” With a sigh she leaned against his solid body and snuggled close as his arms wrapped about her.
In the distance she could feel the prickling tension of a brewing spell and could smell the herbs and nastier ingredients that lay thick in the air. The thick mess crawled over her skin.
But being held tightly in Dante’s arms kept the hovering darkness at bay.
How was that for an oxymoron?
Abby didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually Dante was gently tugging her to the center of the room and turning to regard the woman who entered the doorway carrying a silver tray.
Abby blinked in shock as the stranger settled the tray on a low table and straightened with a flip of her blond hair.
Good Lord, she looked like she should be flunking algebra class and flirting with the football quarterback, not playing servant to a pack of witches.
Of course, age was not necessarily an indication of maturity, she reminded herself wryly. By the time she was eighteen, Abby had seen more of life than most women twice her age.
Pressing her hands together, the girl kept her gaze glued to Abby’s face. It took a moment for Abby to realize that Dante was probably the first vampire the girl had ever encountered.
Or at least the first vampire she knew was a vampire.
“The mistress requested that I bring you refreshments,” she at last managed to stammer.
In spite of herself, Abby felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. Whatever her reason for joining with the witches, it was clear she was not happy. It was etched in the tension of her too-thin body.
“Thank you,” Abby said softly. “It was very kind of you.”
Something that might have been surprise flickered through the dark eyes before she was offering a tentative smile and turning toward the door.
Before Abby even realized what was happening, Dante was suddenly standing before the girl. Abby’s lips parted to protest. The last thing they needed was a newbie witch having hysterics in the drawing room.
Astonishingly, however, the woman didn’t scream in horror. She didn’t even squeak.
Instead her features became slack and her eyes glazed as if she had taken a blow to the head.
“Do you not want to stay?” Dante breathed so softly that Abby barely heard his words.
“I . . . there is much to be done . . . I must . . .” the girl began to stutter.
Dante pointed a hand at a nearby chair. “Sit.”
With jerky motions, she sat.
Abby caught her breath and stepped forward. “Dante? What did you do?”
He crouched before the chair, his gaze never leaving the witch. “She is young and not yet trained to avoid being enthralled.”
“What does that mean?”
“For the moment she is in my power.”
Abby studied the woman, who was pleasantly lost in her catatonic state, as a cold chill inched down her spine.
“Holy crap.”
“I did tell you that I could do this.”
She swallowed heavily. “Knowing you can do it and actually seeing it done are two entirely different things.”
“And now you are afraid?”
She took a long moment before giving a shake of her head. She could sense the truth written on his heart.
“No.”
“Good.” His lips curled into a wicked smile. “I would never enthrall you, lover. I don’t want a mindless toy; I want you. No matter how stubborn or ill-tempered you can be at times.”
She couldn’t halt her own smile. “You always say the nicest things.”
Slowly he turned his attention back to the silent girl in the chair.
“Tell me your name,” he demanded. His tone was low and flowing. A golden voice that seemed to shimmer in the air.
The girl leaned forward with an eager need to please the man holding her so easily captive.
“Kristy.”
“Kristy, how long have you been with the coven?”
“Not long.” Her brow wrinkled as if she feared she might disappoint the vampire. “Just a few weeks.”
Dante’s gaze remained firmly locked with the witch. “You know of the Phoenix?”
“Of course. It is the reason the coven exists. It is the salvation of us all.”
Dante arched a brow. “Salvation?”
A fervent glow touched the young face. “With the beloved Goddess, we will bring an end to the darkness. The light will shine for an eternity.”
Abby crept closer. She didn’t understand what the girl was babbling about. Eternal light, banish the darkness, yadda yadda.
But she did sense Dante’s sudden tension. And that was enough to send up the proverbial red flag.
Ignoring Abby’s approach, Dante leaned until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the witch.
“How will you bring an end to the darkness?”
“There is a spell. A spell to bring an end to the demon world forever.”
“It must be very powerful.”
“Yes.” The girl gave a shudder. “Only the most talented witch can hope to perform the ritual. It killed . . . the last one to try.”
“Who was the last one to try, Kristy?” Dante’s hands tightened on the arms of the cha
ir. “Was it Selena who attempted to cast the spell?”
“I . . .”
“And that’s what killed her?” His voice held a lethal edge.
Abby’s breath caught. Her thoughts flashed back to Selena’s broken body and then leaped to the spell books that they had discovered in the mansion.
Damn. She had opened the safe and revealed them. God, she had even attempted to use them.
Now they were gone. If something bad was going to happen, it would be her fault.
A distressed expression rippled over the youthful face. “I . . . I am not to say her name. She betrayed the coven and was punished as she should have been. The mistress forbade us to speak of her.”
“Sssh. All is well.” Dante eased the girl’s worry. “Is Edra planning to attempt the spell?”
The girl’s expression cleared in relief. A question she could answer.
“Yes, she will use the Phoenix to battle the dark lord and bring an end to demons.”
The tension in Dante became almost painful. “What demons?”
“All demons.” The witch smiled with a near-sickening joy. “At last the world will be pure.”
Abby frowned, rubbing her arms as Dante’s flare of fury charged through her.
“Bloody hell,” he breathed.
With a jerky motion the witch rose to her feet. Something that might have been pain twisted her lips.
“She calls me. I must go.”
Smoothly Dante was on his feet, his hands framing her face. “Kristy, is there anything else you want to tell me?”
Even Abby shivered as his power pulsed through the air.
“The blood has been tainted with silver,” the witch whispered.
Abby gasped but Dante merely nodded his head. It was precisely what he had suspected.
“You will go to Edra. You will not remember speaking with me. You brought the tray into the room and left. Do you understand?” he murmured.
“I brought the tray in and left,” she parroted.
“Very good.” Dante stepped back. “Now go.”
The witch was walking woodenly from the room. With a shake of her head, Abby held out a hand.
Good God, there were so many questions that had to be answered. She had to know what was going on.
Supernatural Bundle Page 69