Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  He stepped close enough to feel her heat wrap about him. "A woman of discerning taste," he said huskily.

  Caught off guard, she took a hasty step backward, her nose wrinkling as she studied the various wounds marring his chest.

  "Well, I must admit that my taste does run to a bit less bloody."

  Styx cursed himself as he hastily wiped the blood away with the towel. He so rarely spent time among humans that he tended to forget their squeamish nature. No doubt being mortal had something to do with it.

  "They will heal," he reassured her, tossing the towel aside.

  She raised her gaze to regard him with a hint of confusion. "But doesn't it hurt?"

  He blinked at the odd question. "Of course."

  "Then why do you do it?"

  "I must stay in practice." He paused before giving a small shrug and continuing, "And, in truth, I enjoy sparring. It makes me feel... alive."

  Her lips twisted. "Rather ironic."

  "That a vampire can feel alive?"

  "No, that flirting with death would make you feel alive."

  Styx stepped close once again, pleased when Darcy did not back away. A rueful smile touched his lips.

  It seemed that the true irony was that a vampire who relied upon his ruthless reputation to keep the demons around the world under his control panicked at the mere thought that this tiny woman might fear him.

  "What is life without a bit of danger?" he murmured, unable to resist reaching out to outline those tempting lips with the tip of his finger.

  "Safe?" she retorted.

  Her skin was sheer silk beneath his touch, stirring his muscles to a painful hardness.

  "Dull," he managed to mutter.

  "Comfortable."

  "Tedious."

  "Prudent."

  "Dreary."

  She abruptly nipped at his roaming finger, sending a jolt of pure lust to his toes.

  "Maybe we should just agree to disagree," she said, her green eyes smoldering with a dangerous fire. "I prefer my life far more peaceful, with as little danger and violence involved as possible."

  Styx cupped her cheek. He couldn't deny that a part of him was strongly attracted to her gentle soul. It was an irresistible solace after centuries of endless brutality. But he was nothing if not a realist.

  Alone in the world this woman was a victim waiting to happen.

  Actually, it was amazing she had survived relatively unscathed for so many years.

  "It is a beautiful life, angel, but there are very few who possess your tender heart," he said softly. "You need someone to keep you safe."

  The green eyes slowly narrowed. Styx wasn't at all certain that was a good sign.

  "You think I can't protect myself?'" Darcy demanded.

  He suddenly felt as if he had fallen into a hole he didn't even recall digging.

  "I think you would sacrifice yourself before harming another," he warily admitted.

  "I don't need a sword, or dagger, or gun to defeat a vampire." Without warning, she stepped closer and placed her hands flat against Styx's chest. He hissed sharply as she boldly began to explore his clenched muscles. "There are all sorts of weapons that are far more fearsome."

  "Angel . . ." His voice choked off as she leaned forward to flick her tongue over his hardened nipple.

  "Yes?"

  By the gods. His arms whipped around her and he pressed her fully against his aroused body.

  She had made her point. He was well and truly defeated by this tiny slip of a woman.

  "Dangerous weapons, indeed." His arms tightened. "But I had better be the only vampire you are using them upon."

  She chuckled at his fierce tone. "Since the other vampires look at me as if I'm something they found stuck to the bottom of their shoes, I think I can safely make that promise."

  Styx was shocked by the unexpected, dark emotion that clenched his heart. Possession. There was no other word for it.

  "Perhaps I should make clear that I mean all demons, humans, fairies, and creatures in this world, or any other."

  She tilted her head to regard him with a searching gaze. "That's very ... inclusive."

  "Completely and totally inclusive."

  Her lips twitched, as if she found something amusing in his unnerving reaction. But before he could protest, her head had once again lowered and her lips were skimming over his healed chest.

  "So you don't want me doing this . . ." Her fingers trailed tantalizingly down his stomach to the waistband of his pants. "Or this ..." With a tug she had the button opened and then pulled his zipper down. Styx gave a strangled groan as her fingers softly curved around his hard cock. "To any other man?" She stroked him from bottom to top.

  Styx buried his face in the sweet curve of her neck. "By the gods, you are lethal," he rasped, silently adding that he would kill any man she touched in such an intimate way.

  There didn't seem to be any need to trouble her pacifist soul with that thought.

  "I did warn you," she breathed.

  She had. But her warning hadn't included her lips brushing his nipples, his sternum, the small depression running between his abs, and then shockingly she was on her knees and her mouth closed over the tip of his erection.

  His fingers threaded through her soft curls as she impatiently tugged down his pants and her hands cupped him with a knee-buckling touch.

  "Bloody hell, angel."

  Ignoring his strangled words, thank the gods. Darcy pulled him deeper into her mouth. His eyes closed and his fangs fully extended at the feel of her tongue tracing over the head of his cock.

  Nothing had ever been meant to feel so good.

  So damnably good he was certain he could die in that moment with a smile on his lips.

  Groaning as she squeezed and licked him with an enthusiasm that threatened to bring a swift end to his shocking pleasure, Styx struggled to keep the climax at bay.

  He had claimed that danger made him feel truly alive.

  It was nothing—nothing—compared to this.

  And he wanted it to last more than a handful of blissful strokes.

  "Angel . . . enough," he groaned, lowering himself until he was on his knees before her.

  She smiled with smug pleasure at the sight of his extended fangs and darkened eyes.

  "You don't like?" she teased.

  "I like too much," he breathed, his hands running down the curve of her back until he could grasp the bottom of her sweatshirt. With one smooth motion he ranked it over her head. "Now, it's your turn."

  He could hear her breath catch as he tugged free her bra and at last cupped the soft mounds of her breasts. Thank the gods he didn't have to worry to breathe, he acknowledged as heat burst through his body. How could a man remember such tedious things when confronted with such beauty?

  With tender care his thumbs brushed over the tight peaks of her nipples, his fingers savoring the curve of her breasts. He had touched countless humans before, but never had he been so intrigued by the texture of mere skin.

  Just like warm silk, he realized in fascination. Warm silk with a faint tingle of pulsing life that made his every instinct roar with need.

  Perhaps sensing his odd bemusement, Darcy slid her hands up his bare arms to his shoulders.

  "Styx?" she questioned softly. "Is something wrong?"

  He leaned his head down to press his forehead to hers. "Each moment you are near, I forget everything but you," he confessed in a husky tone. "If I could lock the doors and keep out the world for the rest of eternity 1 would, just so we could be alone."

  Her fingers slid over his shoulders and down his back. "And that troubles you?"

  He groaned, his lips skimming down her slender nose and brushing over her mouth.

  "Not nearly as much as it should."

  Unwilling to brood on his strange obsession with this woman, Styx claimed her mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips. In this moment he was ready and willing to forget about the world, and the responsib
ilities awaiting him outside the door.

  His duty would find him sooner or later.

  He wanted it to be later.

  Much, much later.

  Cradling Darcy in his arms he propelled her backward, laying her on the matted floor before covering her with his body. Her nails dug into his back as he kissed his way down the curve of her neck and lingered on the line of her collarbone.

  "You taste of spring," he murmured as he trailed his tongue down to the tip of her nipple.

  Darcy moaned as she arched her back in silent invitation. "What does spring taste like?" she demanded.

  His fangs pierced her skin to taste of her sweetness.

  "Honey," he whispered, his tongue continuing to tease the hard nub, "and nectar, and sunshine."

  Her eyes squeezed shut at his insistent caresses. "Cripes."

  "I've only started, angel," he promised, his hands following the slender lines of her waist.

  With a minimum of fuss he had her pants undone. Pulling them downward, he tugged them off, along with her shoes. Then, as long as he was down there, he nibbled the tender arch of her foot and sucked her toes into his mouth.

  She gave a soft cry as he slowly meandered up her calf, pausing to tease the back of her knee. He hadn't lied. She did taste of nectar. Sweet enough to cloud the mind of any vampire.

  Dragging his tongue up the tempting vein of her inner thigh, Styx shuddered with longing. This time was for Darcy, but soon he intended to return to this precise spot and taste her as only a vampire could.

  Giving her the lightest of nips, he worked his way upward, spreading her legs to seek out her most sensitive flesh.

  "Styx." Her fingers clenched in his hair as he stroked his tongue through the moist heat. "Oh ..."

  He smiled as she nearly pulled his hair out by its roots. The pain was a small price to pay for her husky moans of desire.

  Dipping his tongue deep into her, Styx pleasured her with a steady rhythm. Her hips writhed as her moans became breathless pants. She was close. He could taste it on his lips.

  With a last, loving stroke Styx pressed himself upward, claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he lifted his hips and with one smooth thrust buried himself deep inside her.

  They clutched at one another as the pleasure rolled over them in searing waves.

  "You must truly be an angel," he breathed as he slowly pulled out of her to thrust back with a roll of his hips. "Because you have shown me heaven."

  She gave a soft laugh that was choked off with a groan as her back arched in building excitement.

  Spreading kisses over her beautiful face, he pumped himself into her heat. This was heaven. And she was his angel. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. Continuing his relentless pace, he waited for her to tense beneath him.

  It was when she gave a soft cry of release that he allowed his fangs to slip into her skin and he sucked in the very essence of her. With one last thrust he buried himself as deeply as he could reach and allowed his climax to slam into her with electric force.

  Bloody hell.

  It was a good thing he was an immortal.

  Surely such pleasure would put a mere man in his grave.

  Chapter Ten

  "This way."

  Salvatore allowed Hess to lead him to the dank basement of their current lair. His mood was almost as foul as the thick air that cloaked around them.

  Sophia would arrive in Chicago in less than a week and he still did not have Darcy in his clutches.

  Now Hess was moaning about some sly intruder who supposedly had slipped into the building through the sewers and was now set to ...

  Well, Hess hadn't been entirely clear on what he suspected the intruder intended to do. Of course, Hess rarely bothered to use the lumpy gray mass that was stuck in his skull.

  Why bother thinking when you could flounder around with raw instinct?

  Thankfully unaware of Salvatore's less than complimentary thoughts, Hess came to a sudden halt and peered into the inky blackness.

  "There, I warned you," the cur hissed, his finger pointing toward a distant corner. "An intruder."

  A jolt of surprise raced through Salvatore as he studied the tiny demon who was currently grumbling beneath his breath as he attempted to clean his delicate wings.

  He sniffed deeply, unable to believe this stroke of fortune.

  "The gargoyle. The same one I smelled at Styx's lair," he whispered. "How intriguing."

  Hess stiffened, the air prickling about him as he struggled not to shift into wolf. "He belongs to the vampire?"

  "So it would seem."

  "Not much of a gargoyle. I will swallow him in one bite."

  The larger man stepped forward only to come to a sharp halt as Salvatore reached out to grasp his arm.

  "No."

  "But..."

  "He's obviously here as a spy for the vampires." Salvatore's gaze remained upon the gargoyle, who was shaking his tail and still muttering. "It is only polite to ensure that he has something to take back to his master."

  Hess quivered with outrage. "Have you lost your mind? We should kill him."

  "Really, Hess." Salvatore sighed. Curs. "You're always so eager to solve your problems with violence when diplomacy would serve you so much better."

  "When you kill your enemies, you don't need diplomacy."

  "And what good does a corpse do you?" Salvatore demanded.

  Hess growled deep in his throat. "They lie on the ground and don't cause trouble."

  "A lesson, my friend," Salvatore drawled. "A wise man can use everyone. Even his enemies."

  A strained beat passed as Hess struggled to make his brain function. "The gargoyle?"

  "And through him his master," Salvatore murmured, a smile touching his lips.

  "You were quick enough to fire an arrow at the vampire," the cur groused.

  Salvatore shrugged. He couldn't deny that he had taken great pleasure in putting the arrogant bastard on the ground. The only pity was that he hadn't managed to kill him.

  "Well, he did make such an irresistible target," he drawled. "Tonight, however, I intend to use another sort of arrow to shoot at the Anasso."

  "What will you do?"

  "Let me worry about the gargoyle," Salvatore commanded. "I want you to make sure your curs don't stumble over him. We want the tiny demon to believe that he managed to slip in and out undetected."

  Hess hesitated before giving a shrug and slipping through the darkness. The cur might prefer a more bloodthirsty response to the intruder, but he possessed enough intelligence to do as he was told.

  Dismissing his servant from his mind, Salvatore returned his attention to the gargoyle, who was carefully making his way across the damp floor.

  A smile touched his dark face.

  On this occasion the mountain was about to come to Mohammed.

  Darcy breathed a deep sigh of contentment. She hadn't intended to seduce Styx when she had come in search of him. Or at least not consciously. But what woman could have watched such male perfection flowing about the small arena and not have her passions stirred?

  Especially a woman who had gone so many years denying herself the least hint of intimacy.

  Moreover, she couldn't make herself feel guilty.

  Her life was too often filled with loneliness and disappointment. Why not enjoy the unexpected flashes of happiness that came her way? She would live in the moment and damn the consequences.

  Lying on the soft mat still wrapped in Styx's arms, it was easy to live in the moment.

  Feeling utterly content, she touched the strange amulet that he wore around his neck before lifting her head to meet his smoldering gaze.

  "Are you suitably vanquished?" she murmured softly.

  A slow smile curved his lips. "I claim defeat, although I must admit that I feel far more like the victor."

  Heat tingled to her very toes. "Strange, so do I."

  "Why did you leave my bed th
is evening?" His finger lightly traced her lips. "I missed you when I awoke."

  "You were injured and you needed your sleep. Besides, I'm not much of a lying in bed kind of girl."

  "Something I intend to change," he murmured.

  "And how do you intend to do that?"

  His arms tightened about her. "If you want me to demonstrate we could return to my rooms."

  She chuckled. "I think any demonstrations should wait until later. Unlike you, I'm human enough to need some time to recuperate."

  "You are far more than merely human."

  She stiffened. She couldn't help it. The mystery of what and who she was would haunt her until she discovered the truth.

  "Perhaps more, but what? That is the question. Not even Shay could tell me."

  It was Styx's turn to stiffen, his expression becoming guarded. "So you met Shay?"

  "As if you didn't know. You no doubt smelled her the minute she arrived on the doorstep." Darcy gave a shake of her head. "That's really starting to freak me out."

  "Shay on our doorstep?"

  "No, the whole smelling thing. It isn't really polite, you know."

  He shrugged, sending a ripple of muscle beneath her hand. Nice.

  "Most demons use their sense of smell for survival. Did you ... enjoy her visit?"

  "Very much." Darcy smiled as she thought of the beautiful half demon. "I like her."

  "I suppose she can be charming when she chooses," he grudgingly conceded.

  She shifted onto her elbow so she could peer down at his tight expression. Her heart gave a small jerk at the sheer beauty of his dark, lean features.

  It wouldn't matter if she stayed with this vampire for an eternity, she would never get used to his fierce splendor.

  "I already got the idea that the two of you have issues," she said, her tone husky.

  "Issues." His nose wrinkled. "Yes, you could say that. She no doubt warned you that I'm a heartless bastard."

  "She did."

  He shifted his hand to cup her cheek, his gaze searching. "And yet you sought me out."

  "It would appear that I did."

  A frown touched his brow. "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "I cannot imagine another woman who would not hate and fear me." His hand tightened on her cheek. "Not only am I a vampire, but I have taken you captive and hold you here against your will."