When Darkness Comes

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Nothing.”

  “You felt something.” He reached out to grasp her arm, pulling her to a halt. “Is there anything here?”

  A frown marred her forehead. Not the pissy frown she reserved solely for him. But the one that warned she was sensing something she could not explain.

  The one she had had too many occasions to use over the past few days.

  “It’s not that. It’s . . . I don’t know, like an echo.”

  “From the spell Selena cast?”

  “Maybe.” She abruptly rubbed her hands over her arms. “It feels wrong, somehow. Not evil, but . . .”

  He tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Abby?”

  “It’s difficult to explain.”

  “Try.”

  Her eyes narrowed. A silent warning he would eventually pay for his arrogant tone.

  Not at the moment, however.

  “I once walked past a chemical plant that was pumping toxic waste into the river. It was nothing I could actually see, but there was a certain smell and foulness to the air that made my skin crawl. That’s what I feel now.”

  “Foulness.”

  “Yes.”

  Dante growled low in his throat. He was a predator. A lethal killer. The fact that he could not sense the danger lurking in the air made him long to destroy something.

  Something witchy.

  “There is something I’m missing.” He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Damn. This way.”

  Taking Abby’s hand, he led her farther down the hall. He considered it a minor miracle they managed to make it over a dozen steps before Abby dug in her heels.

  “Wait. Where are we going? Selena’s rooms are down that wing.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Trust me.”

  Damn. Wrong words.

  Her heels nearly made holes in the floor as she refused to budge.

  “Trust you? Again?”

  “Have I led you astray yet?” Her mouth flew open far too readily. A diversion was clearly in order. Never one to miss an opportunity, Dante glided forward to cover her mouth in a swift, hungry kiss. “Don’t answer that,” he murmured against her lips. Her hands clutched his arms as she instinctively arched against him. Devil spit. Dante felt her fiery heat sear through him. It licked over his skin and smoldered in his blood. His teeth clenched. The ache to gather her in his arms and take her against the wall was firmly thrust aside. He would never have enough of this woman. But now was not the time or place, he sternly chastised. Pulling back, he grasped her hand and pulled her firmly down the hall before she could come to her senses. Shoving aside a broken statue, he pointed at the wall. “This is it.”

  “This is what?”

  “The safe.”

  “Where?”

  He touched his finger to the center of the satin wallpaper. “There.”

  She shot him a narrowed glare. “Is this some sort of Abbott and Costello routine?”

  His lips twitched despite the urgency of their situation. “The safe is set in the wall and has been warded. It’s up to you to break the spell.”

  “Me? I’m no witch.”

  “Selena was not a witch, lover.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “Her power came from the Phoenix.”

  “A power she had three hundred years to learn to control, not three days.”

  “You can do this.”

  Her frown threatened to become permanently engraved. “Easy for you to say. Hell, I don’t even know how to start.”

  “Just concentrate,” he urged softly.

  “On the wall?”

  “On the safe behind the wall.” Dante stepped back to watch her closely. He hated putting such pressure on Abby. She had barely accepted that she carried the Phoenix. Now to be expected to wield its magic was rather like expecting a bird to fly only moments after it hatched. Unfortunately, there was no choice. They had to find the witches. A long silence filled the hall, and then her hand lifted, and she twitched her fingers. Dante frowned in confusion. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to cast a damn spell.”

  “By wiggling your fingers?”

  “It’s a . . . thing. A stupid thing, but a thing.” She angrily blew a stray curl from her forehead. “Now, do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate.”

  He held up his hands. “Please, concentrate all you need.”

  There was another silence. A long silence. And then a heavy sigh.

  “Damn.” She turned to regard him in defeat. “I can’t do this.”

  He grasped her shoulders in his hands. This woman possessed enough power to rip apart the entire city. More power than he could ever dream of. He would not allow doubt to stand in her path.

  “Abby, you have killed a hellhound, battled zombies, and escaped from a dark wizard. You can do this.”

  She grimaced. “What I’ve done is bumbled from one disaster to another, and the only miracle is that I haven’t managed to kill both of us in the process.”

  “I believe in you, even if you don’t believe in yourself.”

  “Which doesn’t say much for your intelligence.”

  He gave her a slight shake. Why had Viper not warned him that mortal women were as stubborn as Stlantd demons?

  “Abby.”

  She met him glare for glare before heaving a frustrated sigh. “Okay, okay. I’ll try again.”

  Chapter 16

  Abby squeezed her eyes shut. Even then she could feel Dante hovering beside her like a vulture. She could sense his tension. His fierce determination.

  He was expecting her to perform some sort of hocus-pocus. A joke, of course. She was as likely to sprout daisies out of her ears as she was to magically open some mystical door.

  Still, she had to try something. As long as she carried the Phoenix, she would be hunted. And worse, Dante would be forced to protect her, even if it meant the end of his own existence.

  So far, stupid luck had kept them alive. But sooner or later, they would come up against something he could not defeat. Then they both would be dead.

  She wouldn’t let that happen.

  Ignoring the feeling she was doing nothing but making an ass of herself, Abby sternly focused her thoughts. She had taken out a hellhound and had burned the zombie to a crisp. Granted, she hadn’t known what the hell she was doing, but there had to be something inside her that she could use.

  Imagine the wall, she told herself. And in the middle of the wall a safe. A safe like the ones in the old movies she loved. A big, silver safe with a black combination lock and slender handle . . .

  Thoroughly concentrating upon the image, she didn’t notice the faint buzzing in her ear. Not until the buzzing became a ringing. And then became a loud clap that sent her tumbling backward in shock.

  Opening her eyes, she stared in wonder at the large safe now clearly visible in the wall and clearly open.

  “Holy crap,” she breathed.

  The words had barely tumbled from her lips when Dante was at her side to gently lift her to her feet.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She pressed a hand to her heart, which she realized was nearly pounding out of her chest.

  “I’ll live. Is that the safe you wanted?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s inside?”

  “Books.”

  She turned to regard him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? The woman leaves priceless Ming vases and Picassos lying about like they came off a sale rack at some discount store and she fills a hidden safe with musty old books?”

  “They are spell books.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A raven brow arched. “I’m a vampire; I can sense power, but not actual magic. You tell me.”

  She bit her lip before forcing herself to reach into the murky shadows and pluck out the handful of books.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected. Ancient manuscripts wrapped in leather and gold. Rolled parchments with heavy seals. Bed knobs and broomsticks.

  Anything but the li
brary rejects she held in her hands.

  “They look like regular old books to me.” She flipped open the top book only to sneeze as a cloud of dust filled the air. “Dirty old books.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re a philistine?”

  “A what?”

  He chuckled softly. “Never mind, lover.”

  Abby rubbed her nose as she shot Dante a puzzled glance. Once again she was rumpled and covered in dust while he stood there without a hair out of place.

  Damn him.

  “Will these help lead us to the witches?” she demanded.

  “Is there anything hidden in the pages?”

  “You mean like some sort of code?”

  “Like telephone numbers or names or a map to a hidden coven?”

  Well, duh. She busied herself with flipping through the pages to hide her blush. No one had ever accused her of being a budding genius, but she was not usually a total moron.

  “No, no names or maps,” she muttered. “Just a bunch of really bad poetry. Good God, listen to this stuff—”

  “Abby,” Dante abruptly interrupted. “I don’t think—”

  “‘Circle of the sacred Chalice,

  Turn your power to dark and malice.

  Elements of earth and air,

  Water and fire combine to share.

  Hear our plea and know our cause . . . ’”

  Abby was uncertain when the words began to burn like fire upon the page. Or to echo eerily through the air as she mouthed the strange spell. She only knew that a powerful compulsion had suddenly taken her in its clutches, and the world about her disappeared.

  She couldn’t halt the words from flowing. Not even when a sharp, fierce pain began to pulse deep within her. It was like falling from a cliff. There was no halting until she hit the bottom.

  Even if that bottom meant a jolting, bloody end.

  She might have continued chanting for eternity if she had not suddenly been attacked from behind.

  Given no warning, Abby found a pair of strong arms wrapped about her. She had time to grunt in confusion before she was being driven to the polished floor. Her head hit the boards with a sharp bang.

  “Dammit.” She blinked away the stars shooting in front of her eyes before struggling to her knees. “Dante, you could have just tapped me on the shoulder . . .”

  Her words trailed away as she realized that Dante wasn’t responsible for her near whiplash. Instead her gaze fell upon a strange woman crouched directly before her.

  Oh yeah, definitely strange, she conceded.

  Struggling through the fog that still clung to her brain, Abby studied the dark, slender woman.

  She appeared human enough. Despite the exotic beauty of her long raven hair and perfectly crafted features, there was a smoldering vitality that seemed more mortal than immortal. And her hard muscles were the sort that belonged to a well-honed athlete rather than the fluid strength of a vampire.

  Still, there was a barely tamed danger glowing in the slanted golden eyes and a tension in the coiled body that made her seem . . .

  Deadly.

  Covertly Abby cast a glance to the side, her heart faltering as she caught sight of Dante lying on the floor, his eyes closed.

  Shit.

  She didn’t know what the creature had done to Dante, but if she was strong enough to knock out a vampire, what chance did a puny mortal stand in overcoming the intruder?

  Not a chance in hell.

  Her only hope of saving Dante seemed to be in talking her way out of danger. A frightening prospect.

  Ignoring the instinct to rush to Dante’s side, Abby sternly concentrated upon the woman before her. It had to be a good thing she hadn’t already finished what she started.

  Didn’t it?

  Careful to make no sudden movements, she sucked in a deep breath.

  “Who are you?”

  The golden eyes narrowed. “You must stop.”

  “Stop? Stop what?”

  “The spell. It is dangerous.”

  Abby licked her dry lips, relieved to note that the wrenching pain that had been destroying her was starting to ease.

  “Dangerous to whom?”

  “Your mate, for one.”

  Mate? It took a moment for Abby to figure out she was referring to Dante. Her eyes widened in horror as her gaze flew to the still-unconscious vampire.

  “I did that?”

  “The spell . . .” Without warning, the woman threw back her head and growled low in her throat. Abby stiffened as she watched the creature lift a hand to claw at her neck. Almost as if she was battling some unseen enemy.

  Abby scooted forward with a frown, her hand reaching out. “Are you hurt?”

  The woman hissed at her. She actually hissed. Just like a cat.

  “Do not touch me.”

  Abby’s hand wisely dropped, but her gaze remained upon the claw marks the woman had made on her neck.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “They demand my return. I can’t . . .”

  There was another growl, and then with a blur of motion, the creature was on her feet and bounding down the hall. She disappeared into the darkness before Abby could open her lips to call out.

  Well, that was creepy.

  For a moment Abby remained frozen in place. She had seen enough horror shows to know that just because a beastie had left the room didn’t mean it wasn’t still lurking in the shadows.

  When nothing lunged out with a butcher knife or breathed fire from the doorway, she awkwardly crawled to lean over Dante’s horribly still body.

  “Dante?” With great care she gently cradled his head in her lap, her hands frantically stroking his beautiful face. “Dante . . . Oh God, please wake up.”

  He didn’t move. Didn’t so much as twitch for what seemed an eternity. She called, she pleaded, and she even prayed. Panic was rearing its ugly head when his lashes at last lifted to reveal dazed silver eyes.

  “Abby?” His silken voice was oddly husky. “What happened?”

  Ridiculously she felt tears trickle down her cheeks even as she laughed in relief.

  She hadn’t killed him.

  Thank the gods above.

  “You’re asking me?” she rasped. “I haven’t had a clue what’s going on since this madness started. One minute you were at my side and the next you were on the floor.”

  His brows drew together as he silently attempted to piece together his fractured thoughts.

  “The spell,” he at last breathed. “It was ripping me apart.”

  Abby grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get somewhere safe until I can recover my strength.”

  Abby was all for that. Especially when that strange woman might pop out of the woodwork at any moment. A story for Dante when he wasn’t lying near death from her stupid attempt at abracadabra.

  “Can you move?”

  He closed his eyes to assess his injuries. “If you can help me to my feet.”

  Abby bit her lip as she slipped a hand beneath his shoulder and helped him struggle upright. If Dante actually lowered his testosterone enough to ask for help, it had to be bad.

  He swayed heavily against her, and Abby battled to keep him upright.

  “We’ll never make it to the car,” she said. “We should call Viper.”

  “No. If you can help me down to the basement, I can recover in my lair.”

  Abby gave a blink of surprise as she automatically led him toward the nearby servant’s staircase.

  “You have a lair?”

  “Of course. A vampire needs more than tinted windows and a soft bed to feel comfortable.”

  “Oh.” Abby felt incredibly stupid. Until this moment, she had never considered the fact that Dante had walked freely about the house during the day.

  Reaching the stairs, she helped him grasp the railing and together they began the downward trek.

  “Oh, what?�
�� he demanded, his jaw locked to combat his obvious pain.

  “I just realized that when I worked here, you were always awake during the day. The tinted windows protected you?”

  He managed a strained smile. “As long as I didn’t stand directly in front of the window.”

  Breathing hard, she pressed her hand to his chest to make sure he didn’t tumble forward.

  “Aren’t vampires creatures of the night?”

  “As a rule.”

  “But you prefer the day?”

  “Let us that I possessed an irresistible desire to alter my habits.”

  Abby recalled their employer’s demanding nature. The woman had been a despot when it came to her own comfort.

  “I suppose Selena demanded you be available for her?”

  “Whatever her demands, Selena was never capable of forcing me to pander to her preference for day.” His tone was arrogant as he shot her a glance from the corner of his eye. “Only one woman has ever managed that, lover.”

  Her eyes widened as a blush touched her cheeks. “Oh.”

  Despite the odd weakness that still clutched at his body, Dante found a smile curving his lips as Abby helped him to the deep basement. He reached out to press the hidden lever to his lair.

  He had always delighted in bringing a hint of color to Abby’s cheeks. For all she had endured in her life, and she had endured more than any woman should have to, she still managed to be enchantingly innocent.

  The paneling swung inward to reveal the room he had called home since coming to Chicago. Switching on the light, he waited for Abby to step within before shutting the door and setting the invisible traps that should keep them safe for the moment.

  “Don’t touch the door,” he warned Abby as he moved to the refrigerator and collected a bottle of blood. “I added a few surprises for anyone foolish enough to disturb me while I slept.”

  Wisely Abby backed away from the heavy steel door. “What sort of surprises?”

  “Enough electricity to halt your heart, a poisoned dart that will turn your insides to mush, a curse that will shrivel a man’s private jewels to—”

  “Okay, that falls under the category of way too much information,” she interrupted before her eyes abruptly widened. “Good God. What if I had accidentally stumbled across this door? I would have been fried or mushed or shriveled.”