Fear the Darkness
“And now?”
The fingers shifted to cup Cassie’s chin in a punishing grip. “Now I accept that the future cannot be changed.”
A bleak sense of failure raced through Cassie at the aching emptiness in the sacred center of her heart.
Caine.
“No,” she breathed. “It can’t.”
“So I intend to use it to my advantage.”
She forced herself to meet the unnerving blue gaze flecked with crimson. “How?”
“You will show me my future so I will know precisely what to expect.” The fingers tightened until Cassie felt her chin fracture beneath the force. “There will be no more unpleasant surprises.”
She hissed in pain, struggling to concentrate. “It doesn’t work like that. I have no control over the visions or what they show me.”
Loosening her brutal grip, the Dark Lord patted Cassie’s cheek.
Bitch.
“Because you’ve never had the necessary encouragement to train your abilities.”
“Necessary encouragement?” Cassie echoed. “I suppose you mean torture?”
“Semantics.”
Yeah, easy for the one not being tortured to say.
She tilted her battered chin, refusing to show fear. “If pain could give me control over the prophecies, then the demon lord who held me prisoner would have been torturing me for the past thirty years.”
The creature shrugged. “Oh, I don’t doubt that you would endure any amount of suffering to cling to your annoying morals.”
“It has nothing to do with morals.”
“That might be what you believe, but I suspect that the block is unconscious.” Dropping her hand, the Dark Lord stepped back to regard Cassie with a confidence that made her stomach clench. “Once we break it down we will be able to tap into those visions. The future will belong to me.”
Cassie shook her head, baffled by the female’s assurance that the visions could be controlled. As far as Cassie knew there’d never been a seer capable of focusing her prophecies so they showed a particular person or event.
Had her latest failure driven the Dark Lord—or whatever she was supposed to be called now—over the edge? The thought wasn’t particularly reassuring.
“You can torture me all you want, but it won’t change anything.”
“True.”
Cassie scowled in confusion. “But you just said . . .”
“I know that you would allow yourself to die before giving me what I need.” The female overrode her words, a hint of disdain in her voice. “Wolves are so stupidly stubborn. But there is more than one way to skin a cat.” She deliberately paused, her wide blue eyes turning toward the unconscious Caine. “Or in this case, a wolf.”
Realization hit a split second too late. Diving toward Caine, Cassie could do nothing to halt the Dark Lord as she pointed her finger in his direction and a bolt of power slammed into his helpless body.
“No.” Landing on her knees, Cassie cradled his head in her arms, feeling his body tremble beneath the force of the attack.
“Only you can halt the pain, prophet,” the Dark Lord warned. “Give me what I want.”
Chapter 13
Styx’s lair in Chicago
The Anasso’s private study in his vast mansion wasn’t what most people expected.
Far from the dank dungeon with torture devices of the previous King of Vampires, or even the high-tech office that was wired better than the Pentagon that Viper preferred, Styx had chosen a book-lined room with polished mahogany furniture and a delicate Persian carpet.
It was all very civilized. Well, as long as a person didn’t count the dozen spells and hexes that were wrapped around the room. Or the entire horde of vampires patrolling the hallway just outside the door.
Nothing was coming in or out without Styx’s say-so.
Perched on the edge of the massive desk, Styx was in his usual garb. Leather pants, shit-kicker boots, and T-shirt stretched tight over his heavily muscled chest. His hair hung down in a long braid threaded with turquoise ornaments.
A complete opposite of Viper, who stepped into the study, his ivory silk shirt ruffled at the neck and cuffs and his black velvet pants as flamboyant as Styx’s were stark.
“All quiet?” the clan chief of Chicago demanded, his silver hair shimmering in the light from the overhead chandelier.
Styx grimaced. “So far.”
Viper halted in the center of the room, his dark gaze all too perceptive. “You don’t sound as pleased as you should.”
“I hate this waiting.”
“You still have your Ravens guarding the child?”
Styx gave a sharp nod. He’d insisted that Tane and Laylah remain in his lair with their child, Maluhia. It had become even more vital that the babe be protected after Jaelyn and Ariyal had escaped from the hell dimension to reveal that the female twin of Maluhia had already been used to resurrect the Dark Lord. It’d only been because Jaelyn had drained the blood of the creature during their battle that the Dark Lord hadn’t been able to return to this world.
Now the bastard, or rather the bitch, would be more determined than ever to get her hands on Maluhia. And if the prophecy was to be believed, the reunion of the two children behind the Mists would be nothing less than . . . chaos.
Not only would the Dark Lord return to this world, but the barriers between dimensions would be destroyed.
Hell would quite literally spew into the streets.
Which was why he had his most trusted guards on duty around the clock.
“Yes, but they can only be asked to be trapped on babysitting duty for so long before they’ll go stir-crazy.”
Viper folded his arms over his chest. “I know you’re a control freak, Styx, but I have trusted soldiers who can help fill in rotations. That will give the Ravens a chance to rest and feed. You only have to ask.”
Styx allowed a small smile to touch his lips. He was a control freak, but he wasn’t stupid. His men were getting as twitchy as hell.
“Thank you. Send them to Jagr. I put him in charge of protecting Maluhia.”
“Consider it done,” Viper assured him. “How is Tane holding up?”
Styx abruptly straightened, restlessly pacing from one end of the office to the other. “He isn’t thrilled to have so many feral males around his mate and child, but he understands that nothing is more important than keeping them out of the hands of the Dark Lord.”
“And talking about feral males,” Viper murmured.
Styx turned back toward his friend with a scowl. “What?”
“Your Ravens aren’t the only ones going stir-crazy.”
“You sound like Darcy.”
Viper arched a brow. “Has she been fussing over you like a devoted mate?”
“No, she kicked me out of the bedroom and told me not to return until I got the ‘ants out of my pants.’ Her words, not mine.”
“She’s not wrong.” The dark eyes narrowed. “Your temper tantrum last night took out half of Chicago’s power grid.”
Ah, so that’s why Viper had taken time from his heavy duties as chief to visit. In the past few days the streets of Chicago had become a free-for-all as demons had turned on one another. Even the most peaceful creatures had become violent as the heavy sense of doom continued to build.
It had kept Viper struggling to prevent a bloodbath.
“I’m the King of Vampires,” he countered, not about to admit he’d lost control of his temper when Salvatore had accused him of not doing enough to locate Cassandra and Caine. As if he had the power to travel between dimensions. Annoying dog. “I don’t have temper tantrums.”
Viper looked unimpressed. “Call them whatever you want, they’re threatening to destroy my city.”
Styx released a low growl of frustration. “I hate being forced to sit on my ass and twiddle my thumbs.”
“For now there’s nothing else you can do.” Viper studied him with a somber expression. “Have you heard from Santiago?”
Santiago was one of Viper’s most trusted soldiers and had gone on a futile mission to find Cassandra when he’d instead stumbled across Nefri—the mysterious and powerful female clan chief who lived beyond the Veil.
It’d been Santiago who’d learned that the vampire who had sold his soul to the Dark Lord and betrayed them was one of her clansmen.
And unbelievably, Santiago’s missing sire.
“Yes, he’s assisting Nefri in her search for Gaius.”
“According to Jaelyn, he has a medallion similar to Nefri’s that he can use to travel. Can’t she use hers to track him?”
“She’s still trying to discover where his medallion came from. As far as she knew, she had the only one ever created.”
Viper frowned, his slender fingers adjusting his ruffled cuff. “I don’t like this.”
Styx stepped forward, sensing his companion’s genuine concern. “Why?”
“Santiago is very skilled in pretending he wasn’t affected when his sire abandoned him to travel through the Veil, but he carries wounds that have never fully healed,” Viper explained. “I’m not sure he can think clearly when it comes to Gaius.”