"Great." Darcy rolled her eyes. If Levet had dropped by to offer comfort, he was sucking big-time. "That's all I need. A pack of angry vampires after me."
"Oh no." The delicate wings gave a sharp flutter, making the beautiful colors shimmer in the faint light. "There's not a vampire alive or dead who would dare to harm the mate of their Anasso. They may wish you in hell, but they will fight to the death to protect you."
Okay. That sounded better.
At least marginally better.
"Maybe, but as you said, the . . . ceremony is not complete," she felt compelled to point out. "Nothing has been decided."
Levet winkled his lumpy brow. "Maybe not for you, but it most certainly has been for Styx. That mark on your arm proves that he is bound to you for life. To the vampires you are now their queen."
She wrapped her arms around her waist as a shiver raced down her spine.
Queen? Her?
Well, that was just... pathetic. For the entire vampire race.
With a shake of her head, she paced restlessly across the floor.
"This is all moving too fast," she muttered. "Way, way too fast."
"You don't believe in love at first sight?"
She determinedly kept her face turned from the tiny gargoyle to hide her rueful expression. There was a time when she wouldn't have believed in such nonsense. She hadn't been certain true love existed at all.
To her it was a myth just like vampires and werewolves. How could she accept something she had never seen for herself?
Now she believed.
In both demons and love.
But love at first sight?
Oh yes.
Unfortunately, she had yet to convince herself of happily ever afters.
Slowly turning, she regarded Levet with a faint smile. "I suppose 1 believe. What of you, Levet? Do gargoyles fall in love?"
Surprisingly, a wistful expression settled on the ugly features. "Oh yes. We are like most demons. We have one mate and it is for eternity."
Darcy silently chastised herself as she sensed she had touched a nerve. Rats. She would never want to hurt the small demon. Not when she was certain he had spent a lifetime enduring insults and taunts.
"You said most demons," she said softly, hoping to distract him while discovering more of the world she had been tossed into. "What of werewolves?"
As she hoped, the tiny face cleared and a smile returned to his lips. "Ah. I must admit you have me there."
"No death til we part?"
"Centuries ago the purebloods did occasionally share a monogamous relationship, but to be blunt, they have become desperate for children." He gave a goofy waggle of his brows. "Most Weres nowadays are notorious for their sexual appetites. Especially the females, who can have a dozen or more lovers at a time."
"Ew."
Levet shrugged at her shudder of distaste. "The fear of extinction is a powerful aphrodisiac, mignon, and producing a litter is far more important than true love."
Darcy grimaced. Ick. She was no prude, but the thought of being expected to take on a dozen lovers was not at all what she wanted to hear.
Especially when she couldn't imagine allowing any man besides Styx to touch her.
"Then Salvatore's claim he intended to make me his consort was nothing more than a load of bull?"
Levet's eyes widened. "He said that?"
"Yes."
There was a pause before Levet was laughing with open delight. "Sacre bleu. No wonder Long Tooth was in such a tizzy. Vampires are a pain in the ass under the best of circumstances, but they become raving lunatics when they are first mated. And to have another male sniffing around—" he gave a dramatic shiver "—God help anything that crosses his path. He'll kill first and ask questions later."
Instinctively Darcy glanced toward the window. That strange unease was once again setting up shop in the pit of her stomach.
"I don't care what his mood is. I don't like the thought of him out there tracking some renegade vampire."
Moving forward, Levet lightly patted her hand. His skin was rough and leathery, but his touch was a welcome comfort.
"It would take more than a mere vampire, renegade or not, to harm Styx." He gave a flutter of his wings. "Trust me. I've seen him in action."
Darcy forced herself to remember watching Styx practicing with his sword. She couldn't deny that he had looked like sudden death in leather pants.
The image, however, did nothing to ease her concern.
"Maybe, but I have a bad feeling."
Levet frowned. "You have premonitions?"
Darcy found herself moving to the window and pressing a hand to the cold panes.
"Like I said ... I have a bad feeling."
It had been a simple matter to follow the renegade vampire through the dark streets of Chicago. Desmond had left behind a trail of dead hellhounds, fairies, and two imps. It had been slightly more difficult to follow his scent through the suburbs and out of town to the farmhouse that was astonishingly close to Viper's lair, that Styx had so recently been sharing with Darcy.
Slightly more difficult, but not difficult enough, Styx acknowledged as he knelt in the overgrown hedge that surrounded the shabby home.
Peering through the murky darkness, he studied the two-story house that had certainly seen better days. The white paint was peeling, the roof was sagging, and more shutters were missing than not. Even the windows had been cracked and busted from their frames.
It was not, however, the less than pristine condition of the home that troubled him. His own lair near the banks of the Mississippi River would never make the pages of Fine Living. Hell, it probably wouldn't make the pages of "Barely Scraping By."
What troubled him was the fact that he and Viper not only had managed to follow the clan chief without difficulty, but now had slipped close enough to the house to touch it without encountering one single guard.
Brooding on his simmering unease, Styx watched as Viper flowed through the deepest shadows and joined him in the hedge.
Styx waited until his companion was crouched beside him before breaking the heavy silence.
"The clan chief is within?"
"Yes." Viper shrugged, his eyes glowing with the promise of coming violence. Once a warrior, always a warrior. "He's barricaded in the basement with two other vampires."
Styx frowned, his own bloodlust smothered by his sense that something was wrong.
"Just two?" he demanded.
"Yes, and neither powerful," Viper confirmed.
Styx clenched his hands as he glared at the house. "I don't like this."
"What's not to like?" Viper demanded, clearly anxious for a good fight. "By going to ground they've trapped themselves."
"Or set the trap."
Viper stilled as he studied Styx with a narrowed gaze. "Do you sense something?"
"Nothing."
"And?"
"And that's what troubles me."
"Ah, of course." The vampire gave a lift of his brows. "Perfectly reasonable to suppose that because you can sense no trouble there must be some brewing."
"Exactly."
"Bloody hell, I should have left you with Dante. Newly mated vampires should be locked away for the sake of their own sanity. And mine," Viper muttered beneath his breath.
Styx ignored the less than complimentary confidence in his hunting skills. He had always been far less eager to use brawn when brains would serve him better.
A most undemon-like trait.
Turning his head, he stabbed his friend with a piercing gaze. "You do not find it the least suspicious that an experienced clan chief would be stupid enough to charge into town, create enough chaos to lure us into tracking him, and then, rather than leave town or confront us directly, blatantly corner himself in a suitably remote farmhouse with no seeming backup?"
Viper reluctantly considered Styx's words. "A little too easy?"
"Would you be so foolish?"
His companion gave a low growl. "Damn, do you have to be so logical?"
"Yes."
"Shit." Giving a shake of his head, Viper studied the silent house. "What do you want to do?"
"I think it would be wise to call for some backup before we go any further."
With a nod. Viper pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "Damn."
Styx frowned. "What is it?"
"The battery is dead."
"It was charged when you left Chicago?"
"Yes." Viper returned the worthless phone to his pocket. "But it's not that unusual for modern technology to be affected by a vampire's powers."
That was true enough. The previous Anasso had put out entire grids of electricity when he lost his temper, and Styx could rarely be in the same room with a television without it flickering from channel to channel. There would be nothing odd in a vampire who drained the power from batteries.
Still, the knowledge that they were effectively cut off from assistance made Styx's instincts prickle with unease.
"I don't like this," he muttered.
