Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Where’s the gargoyle?”

  Viper blinked at the abrupt question. “Still in statue form.” He took a step forward. “Styx, I hope you won’t hold him to blame. He did what he could to protect Darcy, and to be honest, I’m not sure you could make him feel any worse than he already does.”

  “Relax, Viper.” Styx waved an impatient hand. “I know that the little one held off the traitors so that Darcy could try to escape. I won’t forget his courage.”

  Viper’s frown remained. “Then why do you need him?”

  “He’s been in Salvatore’s lair. I hope he can draw us a map of the rooms and give us at least a rough idea of where they might be holding Darcy.”

  “Ah.” Viper gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing as he considered the possibilities. “If he could slip in unnoticed he could also tell us how many curs we’ll have to go through to get her. I’d rather not be caught unprepared again.”

  Styx smiled. A cold purpose was lodged in his heart as he finalized his plans in his mind.

  Soon enough he would have Darcy back in his arms, where she belonged.

  Nothing less would be tolerated.

  “Actually, I have no intention of fighting anyone if I can avoid it.”

  Viper gave a choked laugh. “Can you really see that as an option?”

  Styx ran his fingers impatiently through his long hair. He needed a shower and a change of clothes. He would also have to feed before he left Dante’s estate. He wouldn’t go after Darcy without being at his full strength.

  “It has to be,” he said in a distracted tone, his thoughts centered on the weapons he could carry with the most ease.

  “Surely you do not fear the Weres?”

  “Never.” Styx smiled wryly. “But I do fear my mate.”

  “Very wise, but I still don’t understand.”

  “As much as I long to punish the Weres for daring to lay a hand on Darcy, I know her tender heart all too well.” He gave an aggravated shrug of his shoulders. “She would never forgive me if I were to annihilate her long-lost family.”

  “You can’t believe she went with them willingly?”

  “No. She promised she would wait for me here, and she would never break her word,” Styx said with absolute confidence. “But, that doesn’t change anything. She might be furious at being kidnapped, but she would rather stay a prisoner than have blood shed in her defense. Especially if that blood happens to belong to members of her pack.”

  “She has no pack. She belongs to us now,” Viper retorted.

  Styx couldn’t help but smile. His friend might have harbored deep suspicions when it came to Darcy, but now that she was Styx’s mate Viper would battle to the death to protect her.

  “I couldn’t agree more. It is Darcy we have to convince.”

  Annoyance touched the pale face. Viper always preferred a direct approach. No doubt because he was a lethal warrior who was feared by all.

  “Do you intend to negotiate for her release?” he demanded.

  “Only as a last resort,” Styx conceded. As much as he would prefer to wipe the Weres from the face of the earth, he would do whatever necessary to free Darcy. Including swallowing the notorious pride of the vampire race. “I hope to be able to slip in and take her before the Weres realize my intention.”

  There was a disbelieving silence before Viper gave a sudden laugh.

  “Oh, of course. What could be easier than sneaking beneath the noses of a dozen or more werewolves and taking off with their most prized possession? Maybe later tonight we can alter the universe?”

  Styx planted his hands on his hips. “Do you doubt my skill, old friend?”

  “No, I doubt your sanity.”

  “You tread on dangerous ground, Viper.”

  It was Viper’s turn to do a bit of pacing.

  “Bloody hell, you won’t get within a mile of the lair without the Weres knowing,” he growled. “As much as I dislike them, they are not at all stupid and they possess skills that are not far beneath our own.”

  “Which I intend to use to my advantage.”

  Viper came to a sharp halt. “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “They will expect me to attack the lair in full force.”

  “You think they’ll let down their guard when you do not?”

  “Quite the contrary.” A smile touched Styx’s lips. It was a smile that would send most of those who knew him fleeing in terror. “I intend for them to be on full alert when you and your clansmen surround the lair.”

  It took a moment before Viper at last smiled in return. “A diversion.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And while we are rattling our sabers and threatening dire retributions you intend to sneak through the back door and grab your mate.”

  “Yes.”

  Viper gave a slow, reluctant nod of his head. “It might work, but I don’t want you going by yourself.”

  Styx frowned. “I appreciate your concern, Viper, but we both know that I can move much faster and with less chance of attracting attention if I go alone.”

  “And if something happens to your I will have no way of knowing that Darcy is still in need of rescue,” he smoothly retorted. “Or would you prefer she remain in the hands of the Weres?”

  “Damn you,” Styx muttered, knowing he had been neatly outmaneuvered. Clenching his hands, he gave a sharp nod. “I’ll take the gargoyle, but you will warn him that he is to follow my every command without question or I’ll throw him to the wolves myself.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Salvatore was in a foul mood as he left Darcy’s room and sought out his curs to make sure they were prepared for the inevitable arrival of the vampires.

  He freely admitted that he possessed his share of arrogance.

  And no doubt a healthy helping of vanity.

  From the day of his birth he had been spoiled by every Were he encountered. He was the destined king. A pureblood of impeccable lineage who had revealed a power and strength well beyond others, even in his earliest years. And, of course, he had been blessed with the sort of male beauty that had made females fight battles over him. Sometimes to the death.

  It was little wonder he assumed that any woman would be eager to have him in her bed.

  Entering his private office, he crossed the barren floor and poured himself a large shot of brandy.

  His wounded pride urged him to return upstairs and prove to the ungrateful bitch just what pleasures she was so carelessly tossing aside.

  He hadn’t devoted decades to perfecting his skills at seduction for nothing.

  No woman left his bed unsatisfied.

  But a larger part of him refused to give in to such base instincts.

  As he had told Darcy, he wasn’t an animal.

  Taking a woman against her will was utterly repugnant. Even it did mean gaining the precious children they so desperately needed.

  So now what?

  Salvatore stiffened as the scent of expensive perfume filled the air. Just for a moment he considered making a dodge for the nearby window. He could easily scamper up the side of the building and make his way to the roof.

  His teeth snapped together as he realized the cowardly direction of his thoughts. He feared no man, and certainly no woman.

  Not even Sophia.

  Forcing himself to lean casually against the desk, he was calmly sipping his brandy when the door was pressed open and the beautiful pureblood strolled into the room.

  A faint smile touched her lips as she halted before him and allowed her brazen gaze to roam over him.

  “Poor Salvatore, you don’t look particularly happy for a man about to bed his consort,” she drawled.

  He sighed with deliberate boredom. “Go away, Sophia.”

  The green eyes flashed with annoyance. She was a woman who expected every man in her vicinity to be panting with desire when she was near.

  “How can I?” Her gaze dropped to his half-empty glass. “As a mother I must be concerned when I
discover my daughter’s mate drowning his sorrow in brandy.”

  “One shot is hardly drowning.”

  “Ah, then you’re drinking because it’s the only way you can force yourself to do your duty?” She gave a mocking click of her tongue. “How sad.”

  “Shut up, Sophia.”

  “You don’t find her attractive?”

  “I find her considerably more attractive than her mother.”

  “Brutal.” She gave a short, brittle laugh. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Salvatore drained the last of his brandy and set the glass on his desk with a loud click.

  “Your daughter has decided that she doesn’t particularly care to have me as her consort.”

  “What does it matter?” Sophia gave an indifferent shrug. “She’s here now and in your power.”

  “And unwilling.” He abruptly straightened, resisting the urge to backhand the woman. Sophia liked her men rough. He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction. “I don’t rape women.”

  Easily sensing his smoldering violence, Sophia offered a taunting smile.

  “Surely you don’t doubt your powers of persuasion? Really, Salvatore, I thought you had more balls than that.”

  He gave a low growl. How in the hell that sweet, innocent child upstairs had ever possibly come from this woman’s womb would forever be a mystery.

  “My balls are not the problem. She believes she’s in love with the vampire.”

  “So? She’ll forget him in time.” Sophia reached out to draw a manicured nail down Salvatore’s cheek. “Love is nothing more than a false elusion that men use to trap women into perpetual bondage.”

  Salvatore grimaced. “Charming.”

  “Surely you don’t believe in love?”

  Salvatore kept his expression impassive. Love among the Weres was now no more than a myth. The pursuit of children had become the consuming goal, and nothing so mundane as emotions, even passion, was allowed to interfere.

  It would be seen as nothing less than a fatal weakness if he were to admit that in the depths of the night he longed to discover that one woman who could be his true mate.

  Realizing that Sophia was studying him with a growing curiosity, Salvatore forced himself to give a noncha lant shrug.

  “It doesn’t matter if I do or not. As long as Darcy…”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, just go upstairs and get it over with,” Sophia growled with annoyance. “Once you have her pregnant you can hand her over to someone who doesn’t possess your refined sensibilities. What about Huntley? He has a taste for forcing himself on reluctant women.”

  Salvatore stiffened. He couldn’t believe even Sophia would be callous enough to hand her daughter over to such a savage animal.

  “You really are a bitch.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Reaching up his hand, Salvatore was on the point of physically removing the annoying woman from his study when he came to an abrupt halt.

  His senses sharpened to full alert as he tilted back his head and sniffed the air.

  “Something comes.”

  Sophia gave a sharp hiss. “Damn, it’s the vampires.”

  “Good.” A cold smile touched Salvatore’s lips. All thoughts of Darcy and his unpleasant duty were forgotten as a flare of anticipation raced through him. This was what he wanted. The opportunity to rid himself of the bane of his existence once and for all. Rightly or wrongly he held the vampires entirely to blame for the decline of the Weres. And more especially, Styx. They would pay for the wrongs done to his race. “Once Styx enters my lair I will be free to kill him. Not even the Commission could condemn a Were for protecting his territory.”

  Sophia paced the room with obvious agitation. “You think he will be so foolish?”

  “Don’t you pay attention to anything?”

  She sent him a sharp glare. “If you have something to say, just spit it out.”

  “He’s mated her.”

  “Mated?” She stumbled to a halt.

  “I could smell him all over her. Nothing will halt him from trying to get to her.”

  “Are you insane?” Sophia was pale as her hand raised to her heart. “A mated vampire? He’ll kill us all.”

  “I’m not without skill in battle, Sophia,” Salvatore snapped, his pride stung. “I already have the curs in place and a number of nasty surprises prepared. They will not find us the easy prey that they expect.”

  Sophia gave a humorless laugh as she headed toward the door.

  “You are a fool, Salvatore, and I for one do not intend to remain to be slaughtered by the bloodsuckers.”

  “Fine, run away, Sophia. I am done bowing and scraping to the arrogant bastards. I intend to stay and fight.”

  She paused to glance over her shoulder. “I’ll return and bury what’s left of your carcass.”

  Salvatore watched as the door closed behind her retreating form before turning his head and spitting on the ground.

  “Coward.”

  —

  Despite his undoubted skill and the fluid grace of his movements, Styx found himself struggling to keep pace with the tiny gargoyle.

  Not surprising considering that Levet’s small stature made him a perfect fit for the cramped drainpipe, whereas Styx’s far larger body was bent nearly double.

  Even worse, the stench that filled the stale air was enough to repulse the most determined demon.

  Kicking aside a rat large enough to swallow a small car, Styx bumped his head on a steel bolt that jutted from above.

  “By the gods, gargoyle, slow your pace,” he hissed as his fingers rose to stem the sudden flow of blood.

  Levet glanced over his shoulder with a twitch of his wings. “I thought you were eager to reach Darcy?”

  Styx growled low in his throat. The need to be with his mate had him nearly crazed. Only the realization that cool, concise logic was what was necessary to reach Darcy kept his howling ache at bay.

  “In the event you haven’t noticed, I am considerably larger than you.”

  Levet narrowed his gaze. “Oh sure, throw your size in my face.”

  Styx maintained his patience with an effort. If he didn’t know that the gargoyle adored Darcy nearly as much as he did, he would already have choked the annoying twit.

  “My point is that I find it much more difficult to sneak through sewers. How much farther must we go?”

  As if sensing Styx’s fragile control, the gargoyle became unnaturally somber.

  “There is an opening just a few yards ahead.”

  Well, thank the gods for that. “And it opens into the underground parking lot?”

  “Yes. There are stairs we can take to the upper floors.”

  “They will no doubt be guarded,” Styx muttered, frustrated by his inability to sense through the heavy iron that surrounded him. He didn’t doubt for a moment that Viper and his clansmen were already surrounding the decrepit hotel. And that the wolves were fully distracted by the horde of vampires. But he wasn’t about to underestimate Salvatore. He wouldn’t leave Darcy completely unprotected. “We must strike before any alarm can be raised.”

  “Do not concern yourself, vampire. I have the perfect spell…”

  “No. No spells,” Styx commanded in a fierce tone. “I will deal with any curs we might encounter.”

  Levet gave an offended grunt. “Ungrateful sod.”

  “I’ve seen your magic, Levet. I won’t risk Darcy to your mishaps.”

  The gargoyle flashed a sly smile over his shoulder. “You have it bad, ancient one.”

  If he hoped to bait Styx, he was wasting his time. Styx had reconciled himself to the knowledge that his world now revolved around one tiny female. And astonishingly, it had been almost painless. Almost. “She is my mate.”

  Levet fell mercifully silent as they tromped through the guck of the drain pipe. Not that Styx expected it would last. The sky was more likely to fall than this gargoyle keep his lips from flapping.

  The miracle lasted
less than a minute. Clearing his throat, Levet kept his face turned forward.

  “You know it is possible that she will prefer to remain with her family?” he said.

  Styx flinched. Damn the gargoyle. The bleak thought was a distraction he did not need at this moment.

  Pushing himself ever forward through the damp, filthy drain, Styx clenched his teeth against the flare of pain.

  “I have considered that possibility.”

  “And?” Levet prodded.

  The demon was either stupid, or incredibly naive. No one with the least amount of sense poked at a vampire’s wound.

  “And I will not take her against her will,” he gritted.

  “Really?” Levet gave a startled chuckle. “That’s very… unvampire-like.”

  It was, of course.

  And it went against his every instinct.

  But he had learned the hard way that he couldn’t force Darcy to remain at his side.

  His features settled into grim lines. “I didn’t say I won’t devote the rest of eternity trying to change her mind.”

  There was a short pause before the gargoyle heaved a faint sigh. “She will have you, Styx. For all her good sense, she seems to have the deplorable ill taste to have tumbled into love with you.”

  Styx found his heart leaping at the demon’s words. Just as if he were a weak, emotional human rather than the master and commander of all vampires.

  Pathetic.

  Truly pathetic.

  But, what was a demon caught in the throes of love to do?

  “She confessed this to you?” he demanded.

  “She didn’t have to. I am French.” Levet gave an airy wave of his hand. “I know love when I see it.”

  Styx didn’t even notice when his head smacked into another low-hanging bolt.

  He knew that Darcy felt a connection to him. And that her emotions were deeply entangled.

  He even dared hope that in time she would be willing to offer herself and complete their bonding.

  What he didn’t know was if was enough to overcome her deep yearning for a family.

  —

  Gritting her teeth, Darcy continued to tug at the iron shackles. Her wrists were already swollen and weeping blood from her struggles, but she refused to admit defeat.

  Dang it, the sun had already fallen and there wasn’t a doubt in the world that Styx was even now intent on his heroic rescue.