Darkness Everlasting (Guardians of Eternity #3)(13)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

The wolf never flinched. "Not without reprisals."

Styx gave a soft hiss as he allowed his power to swirl through the alley. It was obvious this new King of Wolves needed a reminder of the dangers in crossing wills with a vampire.

"I have called for a meeting of the Commission. If they arrive before I decide to kill you, then I will await their approval." He lifted his hand, sending the power toward the looming werewolf. "Otherwise I will simply issue a heartfelt regret that I was forced to act before they could arrive."

Salvatore staggered to his knees before grimly forcing himself back to his feet. His eyes glowed in the darkness, but his hands were steady as he smoothed the silk jacket.

"Am I supposed to be frightened?"

"That, of course, is your decision."

There was a low, awful howl from the roof as the cur at Salvatore’s side abruptly shifted. The large man with a bald head and bulging muscles twisted into a towering beast with a thick mat of black fur and lethal claws. Stepping to the edge of the roof, he lifted his muzzle to the sky.

The dagger was in Styx’s hand even as Salvatore turned and, with a negligent motion, he backhanded the cur. There was a startled yip as the Were was knocked across the roof and nearly tumbled onto the pavement on the opposite side.

Styx gave a lift of his brow as Salvatore turned his back on the cur and returned his attention to the vampire below. Clearly a leader who believed in a "spare the rod, spoil the werewolf" philosophy.

"Give me the woman and I will consider… negotiations," Salvatore conceded in a smooth tone, as if nothing unusual had occurred.

Styx kept the dagger in his hand, ready to strike. This was a pureblood that only a fool would underestimate.

Besides, the arrogant command to hand over Darcy made him want to sink his fangs into the damnable wolf.

"Ms. Smith will not be released until you have agreed to return to your traditional hunting grounds and to halt your attack upon humans. Only then can we discuss your complaints."

Not surprisingly, the Were gave a short, humorless laugh at the uncompromising demand. Styx expected nothing less.

"If you won’t give me the woman I will take her."

A werewolf with a death wish.

His favorite kind.

He smiled. "You’re welcome to try."

"Arrogant son of a bitch."

"Why is this woman so important to you?"

Even at a distance Styx could sense the sudden wariness in Salvatore. It was a question he didn’t want to answer.

"Why does any man want a woman?"

"You wish me to believe that you have tracked this woman—a woman you had not even met until last night—for weeks just because you desire her?"

He shrugged. "Most men are fools when it comes to matters of the heart."

Styx narrowed his gaze. "No."

"No?"

"You are a pureblood. You would never waste your energies on a human. You are only allowed to mate with other purebloods."

"I didn’t say that I intended to mate her, only bed her."

Bed her?

It took two millennium of self-control to keep Styx from killing the werewolf on the spot. Darcy was his captive. For the moment she belonged to him. He would rip the throat out of anyone who tried to take her away.

"She will never be in your bed, wolf," he warned in a tone of sheer ice. "Now return to your hunting grounds before I have you all caged and neutered."

Darcy couldn’t deny a sigh of relief when the small gargoyle had announced his attention to seek out his dinner among the surrounding woods.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his efforts to ease her fears and lift her spirits. For all the strangeness of being a gargoyle, there was something quite charming in his sardonic wit and unexpected flashes of kindness.

Still, she needed him to leave so that she could find her clothes and flee this madhouse.

She might be somewhat strange, and she couldn’t even say with all certainty that she didn’t have some weird demon blood running through her veins. It was as good an explanation as any. But a mixed heritage did not make her ready to join a commune made up of sexy vampires, miniature gargoyles, and lurking werewolves.

Especially when she was quite likely to be handed over to those werewolves like some sacrificial virgin.

Well, maybe not virgin, but close enough.

Unfortunately, her plans of escape were hampered by the fact that her clothes were nowhere to be found. In fact, the only clothing to be found in the room was a white T-shirt that fell nearly to her knees.

And then, of course, there was the very large man whom she assumed was a vampire (judging by his incredibly pale skin and fangs) who was standing just outside her door, and the two others who were below her window.

For a time she paced the large room with a sense of near panic.

She had to get out of here.

But how?

Her pacing lasted for nearly an hour before she heaved a sigh and gave a rueful shake of her head.

Her temperament was not really suited to brooding.

And it was difficult to be truly terrified when she was surrounded by such elegant luxury.

Were all vampires rich as sin? The bedroom and connecting bathroom could house a family of four with room left over to park a minivan. Nothing at all like her own cramped apartment. Gripes, she didn’t doubt that the satin sheets that perfectly matched the ivory carpet and drapes cost more than she paid every month in rent.

Goodness only knew what the porcelain vases and delicate charcoal etchings were worth.

As she reached the deep bay window that overlooked a small garden and distant lake, she came to an abrupt halt. A frown marred her brow as she studied the pretty African violets that lined the sill.

It was a disgrace, she told herself as she carefully moved the plants onto the window seat and away from the frosty panes. Only then did she gather a glass of water from the bathroom and set about tending to the drooping plants.

So few people understood the care that was required to keep plants healthy, she acknowledged as she carefully trimmed the yellowed leaves and stirred the rich dirt.

It took more than an occasional splash of water. Just because they couldn’t talk didn’t mean they didn’t have feelings too.

Losing herself in her self-imposed task, she was happily unaware when the door opened behind her and Styx stepped into the room.

"Here you are, Dasher," she murmured, pouring the water evenly over the roots. "No, no, I haven’t forgotten you, Dancer. Don’t be impatient, Vixen. I will get to you."

"What the devil are you doing?" demanded a deep male voice.

She didn’t need to turn. Only one male in all the many, many males she had encountered was capable of making her shiver with awareness by just the sound of his voice.