Guardians of Eternity 03 - Darkness Everlasting

by Alexandra Ivy

  Now it appeared there was about zero chance of any soft touches.

  Not when he was forced to have to convince his headstrong captive there wasn't a chance in hell of her going anywhere near Salvatore.

  "So instead you return with pictures that were bound to send Darcy rushing straight into the arms of her enemies," he growled.

  Level narrowed his gaze. "I would say she is already in the arms of her enemies."

  "Have a care, gargoyle."

  "Can you deny my charge?" The small demon moved from behind the chair, his tail twitching. "You are the one who kidnapped her. You are the one who is holding her prisoner. You are the one who is using her to further your own goals."

  Styx curled his hands into tight fists. It was that or choking the gargoyle into the netherworld.

  He needed no reminders that he was a villain in this absurd farce. At the moment he was far more concerned with the more dangerous villains.

  "Salvatore is the one to worry about, you fool. He has invested a great deal in getting his hands on Darcy."

  "You still have no proof that he intends to harm her."

  "And no proof that he does not." Flushed with the need to hit or bite or kill something, Styx paced across the large kitchen. It was ridiculous. He never paced. It was a sign of a disordered mind. Forcing himself to come to a halt, he regarded the annoying demon with a cold glare. "Do you wish to put your trust in a werewolf who has already proven he has no regard for the laws that bind him?"

  "I have no wish to put my trust in vampires or werewolves," Levet muttered. "They are notoriously clever at turning any situation to their own advantage."

  "If Darcy is harmed I will hold you personally responsible," Styx warned. "You should never have shown her that picture."

  "You would have kept it from her?"

  "Of course." His gut twisted as he recalled the fragile hope that simmered in the beautiful green eyes. He couldn't bear to have that bastard Salvatore use her vulnerability to harm her. "There was no point in disturbing her."

  Levet studied him with open suspicion. "Even though you know that it may offer her what she desires more than anything else in this world?"

  Styx dismissed the gargoyle's words with a ruthless efficiency.

  Salvatore was a clever foe who would stoop to any level to lure Darcy from this secure lair. This was no doubt just another means to capture the woman he so desperately wanted.

  And if it wasn't...

  A dark sense of dread filled his heart.

  If it wasn't, then he still could not allow Darcy to escape him.

  For the moment she was his only leverage to force the pack back to their hunting grounds without open bloodshed.

  "We know nothing yet," he at last said stiffly.

  "If this woman is her mother—" Levet began, only to come to a halt as Styx stabbed him with a lethal glare.

  "Enough. We will discuss this later. For now I must try to convince Darcy not to charge into Salvatore's damnable trap."

  Darcy was startled to discover her hands shaking as she pulled on a clean pair of jeans and soft green sweater. She glanced down at them in wonderment. Gripes. Over the years she had endured being labeled a freak, been tossed out of a dozen foster homes, and lived on the street until she could at last make enough money to find an apartment.

  In the past week she had been stalked by a werewolf and kidnapped by a vampire.

  It was all enough to give even the most cool, calm, and collected woman a nervous breakdown.

  But nothing—nothing—had shaken her as much as that simple picture.

  Pressing a hand to her quivering stomach, Darcy forced herself to take several deep breaths.

  It would be so easy to leap to conclusions. No, not leap. Jump, bound, and soar to conclusions, she acknowledged wryly.

  But first things first.

  She had to track down Salvatore and discover the identity of the woman.

  He held the key to the questions that had haunted her for far too long.

  She had just Finished pulling on her leather boots when the door to her room was thrust open and Styx flowed toward her with that aloof expression that warned trouble was brewing.

  Planting her hands on her hips she refused to flinch as he came to a halt only inches from her stiff body. He towered over her with enough fluid strength to crush her with one hand. And then there were those pesky fangs that could drain her dry.

  Perhaps foolishly, Darcy wasn't frightened.

  Not even when he reached out to grasp her arm. "Darcy, we must speak," he commanded in a low tone.

  "No." She met his dark gaze squarely. "I will not argue about this, Styx. I have to know the truth."

  "And you do not trust me to discover the truth for you?"

  "I trust that you will always do what is best for your people," she cautiously hedged. Vampire or not, Styx possessed all the pride of any other man. Hell, he possessed the pride of several men all rolled into one. It didn't seem the best time to be trampling all over it. "And you have to admit that what is best for your people might not always be best for me. This is something I need to do on my own."

  He stiffened as if she had slapped his face. "On your own?"

  "Styx, this is important to me," she said in a tone that quivered with the desperate need that clenched at her heart. "I have spent all my life wondering and searching. If there is someone out there who has answers, then I have to find them. Surely you can understand that?"

  His raised hand dropped as he turned to walk toward the darkened window. She frowned at the rigid set of his shoulders and unmistakable tension that swirled through the air.

  "You seem to have forgotten a pertinent feet, angel," he said, his voice oddly thick.

  Darcy shuddered at the dark premonition that hovered about her.

  "And what is that?"

  "For the moment you are my prisoner."

  Prisoner.

  Her heart threatened to halt as she clenched her hands at her sides.

  "You will keep me from speaking with Salvatore?"

  "I will keep you safe."

  "And what about the woman?" she rasped. "What if she disappears before I can speak with her? What if Salvatore harms her?"

  He slowly turned, his beautiful face unreadable. "I understand you are upset."

  Darcy struggled to breathe. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Not when she was so close.

  Not even a vampire could be so coldhearted.

  "Of course I'm upset. I have spent my whole life waiting for this moment. I can't let it slip past me." Her chin abruptly tilted. "I won't let it slip past."

  "And I won't allow you to rush into danger while you're obviously overwrought," he gritted. "Salvatore is a dangerous pureblood, not a pathetic human you can manipulate with a bat of your lashes and a winsome smile. He could kill you without a second thought."

  She stomped forward, far too angry to care that his eyes were smoldering with a dangerous fire.

  "Don't you dare patronize me," she gritted.

  For a moment the prickles in the air became almost painful. Darcy instinctively rubbed her hands over her arms as his power flared around her, and then without warning, a chilling coldness settled on his bronzed features.

  "My decision is made, Darcy. I will do whatever possible to discover who this woman might be and you will remain here. Is that clear?"

  She took a deliberate step backward, her expression as chilled and unrelenting as his.

  "Crystal clear." she retorted. "May I please have some privacy?"

  Something that might have been regret darkened his eyes as he lifted his hand to lightly touch her cheek.

  "Angel, I don't want to upset you, but you must understand that I can't risk Salvatore getting his hands on you."

  She shook off his hand, refusing to be swayed by his soft, beguiling voice. As much as she respected Styx for his dedication to his people, in this moment he was her captor, not her lover.

  He stood between
her and the truth she so desperately desired.

  "You've made it very clear that you won't risk your... bargaining chip, Styx." She glanced pointedly toward the door. "Now, will you leave, or have I lost the right to have a few minutes alone?"

  A stark silence descended, and Darcy feared that Styx might actually refuse to leave. She could feel him fiercely gazing on her averted profile, as if he was attempting to read her dark thoughts.

  An unnerving sensation, she had to admit.

  She had learned over the years to hide her secrets. Tonight it was more important than ever.

  After what seemed an eternity, Styx at last heaved a faint sigh.

  "Perhaps it would be better to speak of this after you've rested," he grudgingly replied. Moving toward the door, he paused to regard her with a faint frown. "I'm not your enemy, Darcy. If only you would trust me I would prove it to you."

  With that he disappeared from the room, leaving behind a whiff of his exotic, male scent.

  Once alone Darcy briefly closed her eyes.

  If only you would trust me. . .

  Dammit, she did trust him. Which, no doubt, only confirmed most people's opinion that she was a complete whack job. What woman with any sense would ever trust a lethal predator of the night?

  But with that trust came the unshakable knowledge that he was far too honorable to forget his duties.

  He would do whatever he had to do.

  And so would she.

  Ignoring the strange ache in the region of her heart, Darcy moved to the connected bathroom and closed the door. When Levet had been kind enough to collect her clothes, he had included her cell phone and a small wad of cash she kept hidden in her sock drawer.

  When she had discovered the bounty she had wisely hidden both the phone and cash among the towels beneath the sink. She had known there might come a time when she would need to escape from her luxurious prison. And that Styx would not make it easy.

  She clutched the phone to her chest as she considered who could help her.

  Not the police. They would have her slapped in a straightjacket if she tried to convince them that she had been kidnapped by a vampire, assuming Styx and the Ravens wouldn't do something horrible to them when they tried to enter the estate.

  The same was true for her handful of friends.

  She couldn't possibly endanger them by dragging them into her troubles.

  And, of course, she had no family to impose upon.

  So that left... freaking no one.

  She clenched her teeth against the defeatist thoughts and paced across the tiled floor.

  There was someone who could help her. There had to be.

  She came to an abrupt halt as inspiration struck without warning.

  Shay.

  The beautiful demon had made it clear that she was ready and prepared to help Darcy with anything she might need. And more importantly, she didn't fear Styx or his Ravens.

  She was perfect.

  Now, if she could just figure out how to get her telephone number...

  "Darcy."

  The phone dropped from her hands as Darcy realized that Styx had silently entered the bathroom and stood directly before her.

  "Shit." she breathed, her heart lodged painfully in her throat. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you ..."

  Her panicked words were cut off as he placed a slender finger against her lips. "Shh. Don't worry, angel, everything is fine," he murmured softly.

  She frowned as his fingers shifted to cup her chin and he lowered his head to peer deep into her wide eyes.

  "Styx?" she breathed as the strangest sense of peace began to flow through her. She could see nothing but his black eyes, hear nothing but his soft, persuasive voice.

  "You are very tired, Darcy," he soothed. "You must forget the troubles of this night. Forget Levet returning from Salvatore's. Forget the pictures."

  Her lashes were fluttering downward even as she battled against the dark compulsion. "But..."

  "Forget, Darcy," he breathed. "Now sleep."

  She did.

  Viper gave a shake of his head as he studied the small picture.

  "The resemblance is remarkable," he agreed, lifting his head to watch Styx as he paced the small office of Viper's downtown club. "And Darcy knows nothing of the woman?"

  "Nothing." Styx forced himself to halt next to the elegantly scrolled Louis XIV desk that perfectly matched the rest of the delicate French furnishings. By the gods, he had paced more in the past week than he had in a millennium. And it was all because of Darcy Smith. "She was . . . disturbed by the pictures. Especially after Levet was foolish enough to admit he had discovered them in Salvatore's safe."

  Perhaps sensing something in Styx's voice, Viper slowly rose to his feet and studied him with searching curiosity.

  "Disturbed? What do you mean?"

  Styx gritted his teeth as the image of Darcy lying deeply asleep in her bed stabbed through him.

  He hadn't harmed her. In fact, he had quite certainly saved her from her own stupidity. Dammit, she had been hell-bent on plunging into Salvatore's devious plot.

  All he had done was make sure that she would awaken this evening and remember nothing of the past twenty-four hours. She would be safe in his care, where she belonged.

  So why did he feel as if he had somehow betrayed the one woman who brought more to his life than dull duty and endless responsibility?

  Viper gave a lift of his brows. "Styx?"

  Styx gave a restless shrug, his fingers absently tugging at the amulet about his neck.

  "Like all humans, she has a tendency to leap to conclusions without the least amount of evidence. She is quite convinced this woman is a blood relation to her. Perhaps even her mother."

  Viper shrugged. "It is a rather logical conclusion. The resemblance is uncanny. It cannot be a coincidence."

  By the gods, was he the only one with any sense left?

  "We know nothing yet. This may simply be a clever ploy by Salvatore to lure Darcy into his lair."

  "Hardly clever," Viper said.

  Styx stilled. "What do you mean?"

  "You said that Levet discovered the pictures hidden in a safe?"

  "Yes."

  "Surely if the Were intended to use the pictures to lure Darcy into his lair he would have brought them with him when he first approached her in the bar." Viper pointed out softly. "Or at the very least when he managed to slip past your defenses to meet with her. He can hardly do much luring with them locked in a safe."

  Styx wasn't stupid. He had considered the strange notion that Salvatore hadn't tried to use the photos before now.

  He had at last concluded that the reasons changed nothing.

  At least not as far as Darcy was concerned.

  "Who can say what is in the mind of a dog?" he rasped.

  True enough, I suppose," Viper agreed, his eyes narrowing. "How is Darcy?"

  Styx sharply turned to regard the pastel watercolor that graced the wall.

  "She is well."

  There was a short pause and Styx dared to hope his icy tone would put an end to the unwelcome probing.

  Stupid, of course.

  Nothing short of a wooden stake would put off Viper once he had his fangs sunk in.

  "You said that she was disturbed by the pictures," he pressed.

  He flinched as he remembered the vulnerable hope that had shimmered in her eyes.

  "More than disturbed. She was determined to rush to the werewolves lair and demand explanations," he rasped.

  "Hardly surprising. Shay has taught me that humans possess a great need for family. It seems to bring them a sense of comfort and security."

  Family?

  What did Darcy need with a family? Especially one that could not be bothered to care for her when she most needed them.

  Besides, she now had him and his Ravens to provide her comfort and security.

  "It also seems to steal whatever common sense they might claim. She would endanger ev
erything, even herself, over a foolish picture."

  "It's not so foolish to her."

  Styx turned his head to stab his friend with a fierce glare. "I won't allow her to play into Salvatore's hands. There's too much at risk."

  "You're speaking of the treaty between the Weres and vampires?"

  "That, and, of course, Darcy's own safety."

  "Ah." Viper grimaced. "Of course."

  "What?"

  "I don't suppose Darcy is very happy with you at the moment?"

  It was Styx's turn to grimace. "She was less than pleased."

  "You had better keep a close eye on her, old companion," Viper warned. "I sense that beneath her sweet smile lies a will of iron. If she decides to sneak away it will not be easy to stop her."

  Styx closed his eyes as a surge of regret twisted his stomach.

  "There is no fear of that."

  "You're very certain of your charm."

  "It is not my charm I'm certain of. I have taken measures to ensure she will do nothing rash." His cold tone revealed none of the unfamiliar emotions that were plaguing him.

  "What sort of measures?" Viper gave a low hiss. "Styx? Did you alter her memories?"

  Hell, he needn't sound so shocked. It was what vampires had been doing from the beginning of time.

  "It was the only reasonable solution."

  "Devil's balls." Viper gave a slow shake of his head. "You play a dangerous game."

  "It is no game."

  "No, it is not. It is one thing to enthrall a passing stranger; it is quite another to use your powers over a woman you have taken to your bed."

  With stiff movements Styx gathered his cloak and slipped it over his shoulders. He needed no reminders that he had blatantly used Darcy's trust against her. Or that while she would have no memories of the previous evening, it would haunt him for an eternity.

  "I have only done what was necessary."

  He had reached the door when Viper's soft words reached him.

  "Perhaps, but if Darcy discovers the truth there will be hell to pay."

  Chapter Twelve

  It was nearly midnight when Darcy awakened feeling oddly disoriented.