Cautiously approaching the car, she peered inside, prepared to bolt at the first indication that the woman had not been alone. Her heart gave a leap as she caught sight of the keys still dangling in the ignition.
Holy moly, could luck finally be on her side?
Darcy yanked open the door and slid into the drivel’s seat. The motor purred to life on the first try, and struggling with the unfamiliar stick shift, she managed to lurch across the parking lot.
She didn’t know where she was headed, but it was away from the warehouse. And that had to be good.
She had no desire for round two with the unconscious werewolf. Not when she was bruised, battered, and still sick from the knowledge that she had deliberately hurt another.
And, of course, there was the knowledge that Salvatore would be arriving at any moment.
She was far too on edge to trust the pureblood at the moment. Whether he sent the werewolf or not, he was still responsible for the attack.
It seemed best to retreat so she could take some time to consider more fully just how and when she should meet with the man.
Turning out of the lot, Darcy pulled the phone from her pocket. As she drove slowly down the empty road she carefully committed Salvatore’s number to her memory.
When she was satisfied that she could recall it without effort, she lowered the car window and with a small smile tossed the phone into the vacant lot she was passing.
She was tired of being a hapless bargaining chip in a private demon war she didn’t understand.
From now on she intended to play this game by her rules.
—
Styx muttered a string of ancient curses as he entered the dark warehouse. Although Darcy’s scent was thick in the air, it was obvious she had already fled.
Even worse, there was the unmistakable stench of werewolf nearby.
Flowing through the shadows, Styx discovered the woman lying unconscious on the floor. She had a healing wound on the side of her face and a lump on her temple that had come from a mighty blow.
Darcy?
It seemed unbelievable that his sweet, innocent angel could have battled off this cur, but if he’d learned nothing else over the past few days, it was that it was futile to try to predict how Darcy might react.
She had confused and baffled and fascinated him from the moment he had taken her captive.
There was a stir of air behind him as Viper moved to stand at his side.
Styx had gathered the vampire before setting out in pursuit of Darcy. He had learned his lesson in charging off on his own, and he had already sent his Ravens to travel to Salvatore’s lair to keep watch on the damnable pureblood.
“Her tracks lead to the parking lot, but she must have found a car to escape. She is no doubt miles away by now.”
“Damn.”
Styx tensed with frustration. The night was passing too swiftly. Soon it would be dawn and he would be forced to seek shelter.
Darcy would be out here alone.
At the mercy of Salvatore.
Well, perhaps not utterly at his mercy, he acknowledged as his gaze traveled over the unconscious werewolf. Following his gaze, Viper folded his arms over his chest.
“Who’s the cur?”
Styx curled his nose in disgust. “She smells of Salva tore. She must be a part of his pack.”
“Do you think she came here to meet Darcy?”
The mere thought was enough to make his fangs ache to sink into werewolf flesh. Of course, his mood was foul enough to sink his fangs into anything.
“Whatever she came here for, it doesn’t appear to have worked out as she had expected.”
“No, it doesn’t seem to have worked out well at all.”
Viper turned to regard Styx with a lift of his brow. “Your woman can hold her own.”
“So it seems.” Styx frowned, his heart clenching at the thought of Darcy doing battle with the Were. Not just because she could so easily have been hurt, but because he knew his angel well enough to suspect she was wounded deep in her heart at harming another. “She must have felt her life was threatened or she never would have struck out.” He abruptly turned to walk toward the door, sniffing deeply of the stale air. “But why would Salvatore send a cur to attack her? If he wanted her dead, he could have killed her in the bar or even when he crept into the estate. He seemed desperate to take her alive.”
“That does seem to be the question.” Viper conducted his own search of the warehouse, his expression intent. “There was another woman here as well. A human.”
Styx gave a low hiss. “None of this makes sense.”
Viper briefly studied the black bag that had been left on the floor before giving a shake of his head.
“It is a mystery that will have to be solved later, old friend. The dawn is less than an hour away. We cannot linger here.”
Styx clenched his hands. “If Darcy has a car she could be across the state before I can begin to track her again.”
Easily sensing the fury and frustration that boiled through Styx like a volcano on the edge of explosion, Viper crossed to lightly place his hand on Styx’s shoulder.
“Not even the Anasso can battle the sun and win,” he said gently.
“Surely you’re not saying that the invincible Styx is afraid of a few stray rays of sunlight?” a mocking voice drawled from the nearby door. “How terribly disappointing. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me that you can’t leap over tall buildings or halt speeding bullets.”
Only the restraining hand on his shoulder kept Styx from leaping through the opening and ripping out the throat of the pureblood.
“I may fear sunlight but I do not fear dogs,” he warned with a frozen disdain. “Show yourself, Salvatore.”
“With pleasure.” Salvatore strolled through the door attired in a perfect smoke-gray suit with his trained cur at his heel. He moved with the fluid grace of all Weres although there was an unmistakable tension shimmering about his slender body. “Ah, the magnificent Viper as well. We are truly blessed to be in the company of such notable vampires, are we not, Hess?”
The hulking cur glowered toward the two vampires and then deliberately licked his lips.
“Looks like dinner to me, my lord.”
Styx smiled as he allowed his power to swirl outward, knocking the cur to his knees.
“This dinner has teeth, dog, and I don’t digest very well. Of course, if you don’t believe me you’re welcome to try to take a bite.”
The cur launched himself upright, but before he could commit certain suicide, Salvatore had him by the arm and was pulling him backward.
“Easy, Hess. We have more important matters to attend to tonight.” Strolling forward, the pureblood studied the woman still unconscious on the floor. “Jade. I should have known.” His gaze shifted toward Styx. “I’m surprised you didn’t kill her.”
Styx flashed his fangs. Maybe a little childish for a dignified leader of all vampires, but he wasn’t feeling very damn dignified at the moment.
“I would have. That isn’t my work.”
“Darcy?” Salvatore slowly smiled, a pleased expression settling on his thin face. “Well, well. Who would have guessed? She is becoming quite a woman. One any man would be pleased to call his own.”
Sheer savage fury raced through Styx and not even Viper’s tight grip could keep him from darting across the floor and grasping Salvatore by the neck. He would drain Salvatore dry before he would allow the dog to lay a hand on Darcy.
With blinding speed Salvatore kicked out, managing to strike Styx in the knee. Styx hissed as his fingers tightened on the Were’s throat.
“Did you send this cur to kill her?” he rasped.
Salvatore growled as he struck Styx viciously in the stomach.
“I always heard that vampires were lacking in certain aspects of their anatomy. I didn’t know it meant the size of their brain.”
Styx dodged an uppercut before Salvatore gave another blow to his stomach. He
flinched and then was forced to leap backward as the Were smoothly pulled a dagger from beneath his jacket.
Freed of the immediate threat of death, Salvatore calmly straightened his tie as he glared at Styx. “I will sacrifice anything to keep Darcy alive.”
It would be a simple matter to knock the dagger aside and once again have the Were in grasp, but Styx resisted the urge.
Bloody hell. What had happened to his aloof discipline? His cold cunning and logic?
The Anasso did not roll around in the dirt with a common werewolf.
“Then why did this woman attack her?”
“Jade tends to be a bit high-strung even for a cur.”
Styx narrowed his gaze. “You expect me to believe that this… Were just happened by this warehouse and decided to attack Darcy?”
Salvatore shrugged. “She must have been watching your estate for an opportunity to get her alone.” He paused, a mocking smile curving his lips. “Speaking of which, why was Darcy here alone in the first place?”
“Do not mistake me for a fool, dog.” The dust swirled as Styx’s power stirred the air around him. “Darcy may be an innocent, but I assure you I am not. You deliberately planted a fake picture to lure Darcy from my protection.”
“There is nothing fake about that picture, vamp.”
“Impossible.”
“If you wish, I can have Sophia rip out your throat to prove just how very real she is.” The golden eyes glowed in the dim light. “She might anyway once she discovers you have taken her daughter captive.”
Styx paused. Could it be truer was the picture genuine? And if it was, could the woman be related to Darcy?
He sharply thrust aside the sudden questions. Now was not the time to trouble himself with “what ifs.”
“What is your game, Salvatore?” he demanded.
The dark features hardened. His own power prickled the air. “There is no game. Darcy belongs to me.”
“Never.”
“You have lived long enough to never say never, vamp.”
The pureblood truly did have a death wish.
“I will see you dead before you put your hands on her.”
“Not if I put you in your grave first.”
Styx stepped forward, quite prepared to meet any challenge Salvatore was willing to offer.
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh yes.” The glow in the golden eyes shimmered as Salvatore battled to control his beast. “You have kidnapped my consort. No one would blame me for any retribution I might choose. Including death.”
“Consort.” Styx jerked as if Salvatore had stabbed the dagger in his heart. In fact, it felt as if he had. “A pure-blood will only mate with another pureblood.”
“Exactly.”
Styx gave a low, warning hiss. The temptation to simply kill the Were and be done with it was growing by the moment.
Surely whatever penalty he would be forced to endure would be offset by the pleasure of putting Salvatore in a nice, deep grave.
“Darcy is not a werewolf,” he gritted.
“Can you be so sure, vamp?”
“By the gods, this is some sort of trick.”
A taunting smile curved Salvatore’s lips. “Think what you will.” He twirled the dagger, then smoothly slipped it beneath his jacket and began to stroll across the room. “Come, Hess, we must be on the trail of my queen. So sorry you can’t join us, Styx. By the time the sun sets again Darcy will be mine. In every sense of the word.”
Styx was moving before he could even think.
That dog put a finger on Darcy? He would see him in hell first.
Springing forward, he was unprepared for the large form that suddenly loomed before him. He slammed into Viper with a stunning force, sending them both to the ground.
In the blink of an eye Styx was on his feet, but so was Viper.
“Styx, no,” Viper growled, his fierce expression warning that he was quite prepared to fight Styx to keep him from pursuing the damnable Were. “It is too near dawn for you to be battling the Weres. We have to get out of here. Now.”
“And leave him free to track down Darcy?” Styx demanded, his entire body trembling with the need to follow after the Were. “He will have her long before sunset.”
A strange expression rippled over his companion’s pale, elegant features.
“If she truly is his consort then you must step aside, Styx,” he said in a careful tone. “Not even the Com mittee will allow you to hold the mate of a king as a prisoner.”
“Darcy is no werewolf,” he retorted in a frigid tone.
“But…”
“No more, Viper. As you have so tediously repeated, dawn is approaching.”
Turning on his heel, Styx crossed the warehouse, his power sending the dust swirling about him and the glass in the windows bursting beneath the pressure.
He was a vampire in a snit, and anything near was in danger.
Dammit all.
He would not even consider the notion that Salvatore wasn’t lying.
He had to be.
Darcy couldn’t possibly be a wolfs consort.
Not when he was absolutely certain that she had been intended by fate to be his own mate.
Chapter Fourteen
Darcy awoke with a cramp in her leg and a painfully stiff neck.
Obviously sports cars were all well and good to drive around in looking spiffy, but they were a bitch for a poor woman trying to catch a few hours of sleep.
Rubbing her neck, she struggled out of the car and glanced around the small park she had chosen to hide in.
It was one of the carefully manicured gardens that could only be found in the most elegant neighborhoods. A place she didn’t have to worry about being attacked while she slept. At least not by humans. And since she had managed to steal the sort of car that could only belong to someone with considerable wealth, not even the police had bothered to disturb her.
Her stomach rumbled, and she sighed as she recalled the yummy granola that she had left behind in the bag Gina had brought for her.
Dang it.
That stupid werewolf had ruined everything.
Of course, the woman was probably regretting her attack even more than Darcy did. At least at the moment.
Darcy’s stomach rolled again at the lingering memory of the violent confrontation. Jeez, the woman was clearly demented. How could she possibly be jealous when Darcy had barely spoken to Salvatore?
Maybe all werewolves were simply demented.
Or maybe she was the one demented, Darcy acknowledged with a small sigh.
What woman with a lick of sense would be hanging around this park when she could be in her car driving as fast and as far away from Chicago as possible?
She had picked up her belongings and started over more times than she could count. After all, she never had had anything, or anyone, to keep her in one place.
A new town, a new job, a new beginning.
Big deal.
But even as the temptation whispered through her mind, she knew there was no way she was leaving.
Not until she knew the truth of that picture.
Pressing a hand to her rumbling stomach. Darcy slowly stilled as an odd prickling stirred the hair at the nape of her neck.
The park seemed to sleep quietly beneath its light quilt of snow, but she instinctively knew that she was no longer alone.
Something, or someone, was creeping through the nearby trees with a silence that was not remotely human.
Inching her way back toward the nearby car, Darcy was fully prepared to flee when the elegant form of Sal vatore stepped from the shadows. She recognized the hulking giant directly behind him from the night they had first approached her. Mr. Muscle was even dressed in the same black T-shirt and jeans, as if it were eighty degrees instead of twenty.
Salvatore, of course, was garbed in yet another priceless suit. This one was a smoky shade of gray with a pinstriped shirt and perfect silk tie.
She wonder
ed if he bought them by the gross.
“Cripes,” she breathed, backing against the car with a sudden jolt.
Seeing her fumble for the door latch, Salvatore took a swift step forward and held up a pleading hand.
“Please, Darcy, don’t run,” he commanded, his accent more noticeable in his urgency. “I swear I’m not here to hurt you.”
She grimaced as she recalled her last encounter with a werewolf.
“And I should believe you because…?”
He gave a shrug. “Because if I wanted to harm you there is nothing you could do to stop me.”
Well, that was calling a spade a spade.
Or perhaps, a wolf a wolf.
“That’s supposed to be reassuring?”
He slowly smiled. “Actually you should not need my reassurances. You have proven that you are more than capable of holding your own when necessary.”
She flinched, disliking the note of pride in his voice. Good lord, the last thing she would ever want would be to be admired for hurting another.
“You were at the warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“Is the woman… is she okay?”
“She will recover from her wounds.” The dark, fiercely handsome features subtly shifted. As if his emotions rippled beneath his skin rather than over it. “But whether she will be okay is still entirely up in the air. I have yet to decide how to punish her.”
Darcy didn’t bother to hide her frown. “Punish her?”
The golden eyes glowed in the bright sunlight. She decided that it was just as unnerving at noon as it was at midnight.
See, she wasn’t entirely stupid.
“There is no alternative,” he informed her in a tone that offered no compromise. “She not only defied my direct commands, but she dared to attack you. That I will not tolerate.”
“If you ask me, I think she has been punished enough,” Darcy muttered. She had no love for the woman who had tried to chomp off her head, but she refused to be used as an excuse to cause the werewolf further pain.
Salvatore heaved a small sigh as he carefully adjusted the cuffs of his crisp shirt.
“You really must overcome your gentle nature, cara. In our world it will get you killed.”
Darkness Everlasting Page 17
