Something flashed deep in his eyes. "Angel. .." The sound of pounding on the door brought his words to an abrupt halt. "Dammit, DeAngelo, go away."

"Master," the deep, emotionless voice floated through the heavy door, "you have petitioners."

"Petitioners?" Darcy inquired.

With a grimace Styx flowed to his feet, his naked body glowing with a bronzed perfection in the muted light.

"Vampires who seek justice. I fear I must attend to this."

Darcy struggled against the urge to run her hands over the chiseled line of his leg. Damn DeAngelo and his interruption. She didn't want Styx running off. Not when he was looking delectable enough to eat.

Unfortunately, she understood that Styx possessed duties that were beyond the both of them.

"It's tough being king, eh?" she sighed.

"More often than not," he muttered, pulling on his leather pants and boots before regarding her with a fierce gaze. "Will you be here when I return?" She smiled wryly. "Is there anywhere I can go?" He bent down to steal a sweetly gentle kiss. "Not anywhere that I wouldn't find you."

"Somehow I knew that."

Styx couldn't deny a fierce disappointment at being torn from Darcy's side. Peculiar. He had already sated his passion as well as his bloodlust. There was no reasonable need to linger in her company.

Of course, nothing about his relationship with Darcy was reasonable, he wryly acknowledged.

It went far beyond the need for sex or blood. It even went beyond discovering the truth of why she was so important to the Weres.

The truth of the matter was that his life was different when Darcy was close.

He was more than a grim guardian, or all-powerful leader of the vampires.

He was ... a man.

A man who had long ago forgotten just how precious a true companion could be.

A delicious, beautiful, sweet companion who was clearly out of her mind to offer a dangerous vampire such ready affection.

Giving a shake of his head, Styx forced his thoughts from Darcy and attempted to concentrate upon the matters at hand.

As much as he longed to sweep Darcy to his rooms and lock out the world, his duties could not be forgotten.

Smoothing back his hair, he reached for the heavy black robe that DeAngelo held in his hands.

"Who are the petitioners?" Styx demanded as he slipped on the robe and mounted the steps that led to the kitchen.

DeAngelo's pale features were unreadable. If he possessed any opinion on his master's unmistakable obsession with their prisoner, he was wise enough not to reveal it.

Smart vampire.

"They have called themselves Victoria and Uther," he murmured.

"I don't recognize the names."

"They have traveled from Australia."

"Is it a land dispute?"

"Actually I believe it is more of a ..."

Entering the kitchen, Styx came to a halt and regarded DeAngelo with a frown.

"What?"

"Personal dispute."

"And they bring it to me?" Styx gave a growl of annoyance. "I am the Anasso, not..."

"Ann Landers?" DeAngelo offered, with a faint smile.

"Who?"

"Never mind." Unlike Styx, the younger vampire had not cut himself off completely from the world over the past centuries. Thankfully, however, he rarely bored his master with tedious fads or fashions. They have come to seek asylum."

"Why do they not go to Viper? I have no clan."

"No, but you can offer them protection from their chief." DeAngelo's expression became grim. "He has called for a Blood Challenge."

Styx gave a lift of his brow. A Blood Challenge was a one-on-one battle to the death. A challenge that should not be undertaken lightly, even by a clan chief.

"What is his charge?"

"He has claimed that they conspire to take over his clan." DeAngelo gave a lift of his shoulder. "They deny his accusation and say that the clan chief has discovered they are lovers and wishes to halt their determination to become mates."

"The clan chief wants this Victoria for himself?" Styx demanded.

"Uther," DeAngelo corrected.

"Ah." Styx heaved a faint sigh. The last thing he desired was to be drawn into some domestic squabble. Especially when that domestic squabble was keeping him from Darcy. Unfortunately, the mere fact that a Blood Challenge had been issued forced him to take the matter under consideration. Dammit. "I will see them," he muttered, forcing himself toward the front of the house, where he could sense the vampires waiting for him.

Entering the living room, he watched the tall, black-haired woman and towering Viking as they lowered themselves to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the carpet.

"My lord," they intoned in unison.

Styx stifled a sigh and set his features into aloof lines. "Rise, Victoria and Uther, and reveal why you seek the justice of the Anasso."

Chapter Eleven

It was nearing dawn when Darcy left the solarium and entered the kitchen. She had seen nothing of Styx since he had been called away by his petitioners, and she could only assume that he was still closeted with them.

For a time she had regretted the knowledge she could not watch Styx play at being king.

She didn't doubt he looked very imposing as he disposed justice to those beneath him.

A proud warrior seated on his royal throne.

Then her common sense managed to kick into gear.

She didn't know much about vampire justice, but she was fairly certain it didn't include warm, fuzzy sessions with a psychiatrist, or any sort of community service.

It more than likely included swords and blood and swift retribution.

Not at all her sort of thing.

Wandering into the kitchen, Darcy plucked an apple from one of the cabinets and abruptly turned as the outer door was thrown open and Levet waddled into the room muttering curses beneath his breath.

She gave a small shiver as the frigid air rushed into the room.

"Good heavens, you look frozen," she said as she moved to close the door. As much as she loved snow-she didn't want it filling the kitchen.

"No doubt because I am frozen," Levet muttered. He gave a shake of his wings to rid himself of the clinging ice. "One of these days I fully intend to stick that obnoxious vampire in a freezer and see how he likes being a demon Popsicle."

Darcy gathered a towel and began to gently dry the rough gray skin.

"Styx sent you out again?"

"Do you think I willingly tromp about in the snow?"

"Why would he do such a thing?" she demanded in annoyance. Really, what was Styx thinking? The poor gargoyle was nearly blue with cold.

"Oh ..." A strangely wary expression rippled over the lumpy features. "Just a small errand. Where is the lord and master?"

"Sitting on his throne."

Levet gave a startled blink. "I fear to even ask what you mean."

With a chuckle Darcy tossed aside the towel. "He is dealing out justice to some vampires who arrived."

'Sacre bleu. Just like a vampire to send me out in the snow, and then expect me to kick my heels until he is prepared to see me."

Watching the gargoyle stomp toward the table, Darcy noticed the large envelope he clutched in his hand. A strange chill inched down her spine.

Obviously he had some information for Styx. Information that might very well have to do with her.

"You still have not told me what you were doing," she reminded her companion softly.

Levet paused, his expression troubled. "I am not certain that your captor would wish me to share what I have discovered."

"And?"

There was another pause before the gargoyle gave a sudden smile. "And so of course I will happily share whatever you wish to know."

Darcy returned the smile. She had known from the beginning she was going to like this tiny demon.

"Tell me where you've been," she demanded.

A hint of smugness touched Levet's smile. "While your so brave champion was still recovering from his near fatal wound, I managed to slip into the werewolf lair."

Aha, she knew it.

She managed to look suitably impressed. "How very clever, not to mention brave, of you."

Levet gave a flap of his wings. "Ah well. I have something of a reputation for being astonishingly courageous when the situation demands it."

"I can understand why." Darcy's gaze shifted to the envelope in his hand. "Did you discover anything of value?"

"It is certainly intriguing."

"May I see?" She held out her hand, her brows lifting as he hesitated. "Levet?"

He grimaced as he heaved a rumbling sigh. "I suppose you must see them at some point, although I'll no doubt find my manly parts chiseled off when I awaken."

The chill traveled to the pit of her stomach. She couldn't imagine what the Weres might possess that would concern her. And she had to admit that there was a small part of her that felt a measure of unease.

Secrets were dangerous beasts.

They could reach out and bite a person when least expected.