"Shit." she breathed, her heart lodged painfully in her throat. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you ..."
Her panicked words were cut off as he placed a slender finger against her lips. "Shh. Don't worry, angel, everything is fine," he murmured softly.
She frowned as his fingers shifted to cup her chin and he lowered his head to peer deep into her wide eyes.
"Styx?" she breathed as the strangest sense of peace began to flow through her. She could see nothing but his black eyes, hear nothing but his soft, persuasive voice.
"You are very tired, Darcy," he soothed. "You must forget the troubles of this night. Forget Levet returning from Salvatore's. Forget the pictures."
Her lashes were fluttering downward even as she battled against the dark compulsion. "But..."
"Forget, Darcy," he breathed. "Now sleep."
She did.
Viper gave a shake of his head as he studied the small picture.
"The resemblance is remarkable," he agreed, lifting his head to watch Styx as he paced the small office of Viper's downtown club. "And Darcy knows nothing of the woman?"
"Nothing." Styx forced himself to halt next to the elegantly scrolled Louis XIV desk that perfectly matched the rest of the delicate French furnishings. By the gods, he had paced more in the past week than he had in a millennium. And it was all because of Darcy Smith. "She was . . . disturbed by the pictures. Especially after Levet was foolish enough to admit he had discovered them in Salvatore's safe."
Perhaps sensing something in Styx's voice, Viper slowly rose to his feet and studied him with searching curiosity.
"Disturbed? What do you mean?"
Styx gritted his teeth as the image of Darcy lying deeply asleep in her bed stabbed through him.
He hadn't harmed her. In fact, he had quite certainly saved her from her own stupidity. Dammit, she had been hell-bent on plunging into Salvatore's devious plot.
All he had done was make sure that she would awaken this evening and remember nothing of the past twenty-four hours. She would be safe in his care, where she belonged.
So why did he feel as if he had somehow betrayed the one woman who brought more to his life than dull duty and endless responsibility?
Viper gave a lift of his brows. "Styx?"
Styx gave a restless shrug, his fingers absently tugging at the amulet about his neck.
"Like all humans, she has a tendency to leap to conclusions without the least amount of evidence. She is quite convinced this woman is a blood relation to her. Perhaps even her mother."
Viper shrugged. "It is a rather logical conclusion. The resemblance is uncanny. It cannot be a coincidence."
By the gods, was he the only one with any sense left?
"We know nothing yet. This may simply be a clever ploy by Salvatore to lure Darcy into his lair."
"Hardly clever," Viper said.
Styx stilled. "What do you mean?"
"You said that Levet discovered the pictures hidden in a safe?"
"Yes."
"Surely if the Were intended to use the pictures to lure Darcy into his lair he would have brought them with him when he first approached her in the bar." Viper pointed out softly. "Or at the very least when he managed to slip past your defenses to meet with her. He can hardly do much luring with them locked in a safe."
Styx wasn't stupid. He had considered the strange notion that Salvatore hadn't tried to use the photos before now.
He had at last concluded that the reasons changed nothing.
At least not as far as Darcy was concerned.
"Who can say what is in the mind of a dog?" he rasped.
True enough, I suppose," Viper agreed, his eyes narrowing. "How is Darcy?"
Styx sharply turned to regard the pastel watercolor that graced the wall.
"She is well."
There was a short pause and Styx dared to hope his icy tone would put an end to the unwelcome probing.
Stupid, of course.
Nothing short of a wooden stake would put off Viper once he had his fangs sunk in.
"You said that she was disturbed by the pictures," he pressed.
He flinched as he remembered the vulnerable hope that had shimmered in her eyes.
"More than disturbed. She was determined to rush to the werewolves lair and demand explanations," he rasped.
"Hardly surprising. Shay has taught me that humans possess a great need for family. It seems to bring them a sense of comfort and security."
Family?
What did Darcy need with a family? Especially one that could not be bothered to care for her when she most needed them.
Besides, she now had him and his Ravens to provide her comfort and security.
"It also seems to steal whatever common sense they might claim. She would endanger everything, even herself, over a foolish picture."
"It's not so foolish to her."
Styx turned his head to stab his friend with a fierce glare. "I won't allow her to play into Salvatore's hands. There's too much at risk."
"You're speaking of the treaty between the Weres and vampires?"
"That, and, of course, Darcy's own safety."
"Ah." Viper grimaced. "Of course."
"What?"
"I don't suppose Darcy is very happy with you at the moment?"
It was Styx's turn to grimace. "She was less than pleased."
"You had better keep a close eye on her, old companion," Viper warned. "I sense that beneath her sweet smile lies a will of iron. If she decides to sneak away it will not be easy to stop her."
Styx closed his eyes as a surge of regret twisted his stomach.
"There is no fear of that."
"You're very certain of your charm."
"It is not my charm I'm certain of. I have taken measures to ensure she will do nothing rash." His cold tone revealed none of the unfamiliar emotions that were plaguing him.
"What sort of measures?" Viper gave a low hiss. "Styx? Did you alter her memories?"
Hell, he needn't sound so shocked. It was what vampires had been doing from the beginning of time.
"It was the only reasonable solution."
"Devil's balls." Viper gave a slow shake of his head. "You play a dangerous game."
"It is no game."
"No, it is not. It is one thing to enthrall a passing stranger; it is quite another to use your powers over a woman you have taken to your bed."
With stiff movements Styx gathered his cloak and slipped it over his shoulders. He needed no reminders that he had blatantly used Darcy's trust against her. Or that while she would have no memories of the previous evening, it would haunt him for an eternity.
"I have only done what was necessary."
He had reached the door when Viper's soft words reached him.
"Perhaps, but if Darcy discovers the truth there will be hell to pay."
Chapter Twelve
It was nearly midnight when Darcy awakened feeling oddly disoriented.
No, it was more than disoriented, she acknowledged as she showered and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
There was a fuzzy thickness in her head, as if someone had packed it full of cotton.
Strange considering she couldn't be hungover. She didn't drink (rather ironic considering she was a bartender). And she didn't feel as if she was coming down with a nasty bug.
Could it be that the blood she had been donating to Styx was beginning to take its toll?
Troubled by the faint headache and niggling sense that all was not well, Darcy made her way downstairs.
No doubt a good meal and a breath of fresh air were all she needed.
And perhaps a vampire kiss or two.
The thought was enough to warm her blood and bring a weak smile to her lips as a familiar silent form slid from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.
"Good evening, DeAngelo."
The demon performed a small bow that always managed to catch Darcy off guard. Even though vampires seemed to adapt to the vast changes they must endure over the centuries, they still retained a hint of old-world manners that were rarely displayed in this day and age.
"Lady Darcy."
Lady. She ran a rueful hand through her short, spiky hair. Not freaking likely.
"Have you seen Levet or Styx?"
Straightening, the demon regarded her from the depths of his cowl. "I believe they have traveled to Viper's."
A stab of disappointment raced through her before she could ruthlessly squelch it.
Jeez.
She really had tumbled into the realms of la-la land.
"Okay." She managed another weak smile. "Is dinner ready?"
"It is prepared and waiting for you in the kitchen."
"Great."
There was another elegant bow. "If there is anything else you need, you have only to tell me."
Darcy skirted the vampire and made her way to the kitchen.
The Ravens didn't frighten her, but they did occasionally make her feel a bit squirrelly. She wasn't used to having so many people around her, human or demon. At times she felt like a peculiar experiment being closely monitored by a herd of scientists.
