When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1)(67)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

"All demons." The witch smiled with a near-sickening joy. "At last the world will be pure."

Abby frowned, rubbing her arms as Dante’s flare of fury charged through her.

"Bloody hell," he breathed.

With a jerky motion the witch rose to her feet. Something that might have been pain twisted her lips.

"She calls me. I must go."

Smoothly Dante was on his feet, his hands framing her face. "Kristy, is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Even Abby shivered as his power pulsed through the air.

"The blood has been tainted with silver," the witch whispered.

Abby gasped but Dante merely nodded his head. It was precisely what he had suspected.

"You will go to Edra. You will not remember speaking with me. You brought the tray into the room and left. Do you understand?" he murmured.

"I brought the tray in and left," she parroted.

"Very good." Dante stepped back. "Now go."

The witch was walking woodenly from the room. With a shake of her head, Abby held out a hand.

Good God, there were so many questions that had to be answered. She had to know what was going on.

"Wait…"

Dante grasped her shoulder and kept her from running after the disappearing form.

"Let her go, lover. Edra will become suspicious if she does not answer her summons."

Abby whirled to meet his steady gaze. "What did she mean?"

"Wholesale slaughter," he rasped. "I didn’t think even Edra could be quite so bloodthirsty."

"Could the witches really kill all the demons?"

"They seem to think so."

Abby struggled to breathe. She couldn’t count how many times she had been terrified out of her mind over the past few days. How many times she thought some nasty creature might rip her limb from limb. But as horrible as it had been, she had discovered that not all demons were monsters.

My God, Dante was a demon. And Viper. And the beautiful fairies. And Troy, the ridiculous Prince of Imps. And the Shalott who was tortured rather than handing her over to the witches.

She would do whatever necessary to put a halt to the genocide.

"Shit. We have to stop her," she muttered without a clue as to how to accomplish such a lofty goal.

Half-expecting Dante to charge from the room like a raging madman, she was startled when he merely regarded her with a searching gaze.

"Is that what you want? To stop her?"

"What?"

His fingers touched her cheek. "Abby, if we battle Edra, you might never be able to rid yourself of the Phoenix."

Her eyes widened at the low words. "You think I would sacrifice you? For any reason?"

He gave an elegant lift of his shoulder. "To rid the world of evil? That seems a rather noble goal."

She stepped toward him and grasped the front of his silk shirt in an angry grasp.

If she could have, she would have given him a good shake. As it was, all she could do was wrinkle the beautiful material.

"Evil doesn’t belong to demons, Dante. Humans are just as capable of sin as any creature."

The silver gaze never wavered. "Most would consider us monsters."

"No. Not all demons are monsters—no more than all humans are saints." She gave a faint shudder. "Besides, I would never agree to such a massacre. No matter how good the intention, it would be wrong. Evil."

There was a beat as if he was seeking to determine the depths of her determination. At last he gave a short nod.

"We need to get out of here."

Abby breathed a husky sigh. "Thank God."

Shifting to take her hand, Dante headed for the door only to come to an abrupt halt.

"Damn." He tugged her back toward the center of the room, not halting until they reached the low table that held the untouched tray.

"What is it?"

"Someone is approaching."

Her heart lodged in her throat as she watched him pick up the poisoned glass of blood.

"What are you doing?"

"Allowing Edra to believe she has been rid of one enemy." Moving so swiftly he was impossible to follow, he dumped the blood out the window and returned to her side. Then, startlingly, he stretched out on the bare floor. "If the witches believe me dead, then I will have a better way of seeking a means of escape."

Abby bit her lip. She didn’t like this plan. Not when it might mean she would be separated from Dante.

"But won’t Edra know?" she demanded.

He gave an arch of his brow. "That I’m not dead?"

‘Yes."

"Abby,I am dead."

"Oh." She grimaced.

His beautiful features smoothed to somber lines. "Be careful, lover. I will get us out of here as swiftly as I can."

The footsteps were now close enough to be heard by her human ears.

"Make it very swiftly," she whispered.

Dante fell deep within himself. Unlike most humans, the ancient witch would need more than an unmoving corpse to convince her that he was dead.

Thankfully vampires could retreat far enough within themselves that only another vampire could sense the spark of life.

No spells or hocus-pocus would reveal the truth.

Reaching out with his senses, he monitored the steady approach of Edra and the feel of Abby as she bent beside him and touched his face. He could smell the sweet heat of her skin and beneath that the sharp scent of fear.

He battled every instinct not to reach out with his mind to comfort her. Even the smallest whiff of power would alert the witch.

The footsteps crossed the room, and Dante detected the scent of iron in the air. Odd. The woman must be carrying an amulet. And not the traditional wooden amulet.

This one was hard and dark and carried with it a feel of black shadows.

"My lady, is something wrong?" Edra cooed with false sympathy.

"Dear God, something has happened to Dante." There was no mistaking the fear in Abby’s voice. Whether out of terror of being left to the clutches of the witch or because he did indeed appear remarkably dead was impossible to say. "You must help."

"Of course, I will call for a healer. Come with me."

Abby’s hand tightened on his cheek. "I can’t leave him here."

"You have a talent for treating the undead?"

"No, but—"

"Then we must seek out someone who does."

Her command was perfectly reasonable, and Dante felt Abby slowly rise to her feet.

‘Very well."

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep from leaping to his feet and halting Abby from her slow retreat.