Embrace the Darkness (16 page)

Ever so softly his fingers brushed her skin, as if fascinated by the odd mark.

“Were you alone when you were in the cave?”

Shay shivered. She had no true memory of the cave. Only bits and flashes that would enter her dreams and make her wake with a flare of panic.

“No, but it was too dark for me to see who else was there.”

“The symbols are familiar,” he murmured.

With a jolt of shock, she turned to regard him with wide eyes. “You recognize them?”

He shrugged, his expression brooding. “I can't read them, but they are witch runes.”

“I have seen witch runes. Edra's coven didn't use anything like this.”

“Edra was not an elemental witch. She used blood sacrifice for her power, not the earth.”

Shay gave a shake of her head. His words made no sense. “Why would a witch curse me?”

“That's the question, isn't it? I think first we should find someone who can tell us precisely what is involved in this particular curse. That might give us a clue as to who cast it.”

“Witches.” She wrapped her arms about her waist. “Damn.”

He smiled wryly. “I'm not overly fond of witches either, but I do know they are not all like Edra.”

Shay grimaced. She had spent far too many years in the clutches of the crones not to be a little prejudiced. They had treated her like a feral animal to be leashed and punished upon their whim.

As far as she was concerned the only thing worse than witches was vampires.

“So you think we should seek out a coven?” she grudgingly demanded.

“First I wish to speak with someone I know. She may be able to give me the information I need.”

“
You
will speak with her?” Shay narrowed her gaze. “While I'm cowering in some hole? I've told you that I will not be treated like a helpless idiot.”

His lips twitched with the amusement he couldn't entirely hide. “Yes, yes, you are a warrior.”

He was about to discover just how dangerous a warrior.

A poke in the eye, a fist to the nose, a knee to the groin.

Not necessarily in that order.

“Don't you dare patronize me,” she hissed.

As if sensing he was nearing a painful blow, Viper reached out to lightly grasp her shoulders, his expression somber.

“Shay, for the moment we don't know who is after you, or who they might have called upon to assist them. I'm not about to take you into a coven where they could trap us both with one spell. This is not about running from the battle, but using our assets to our best advantage.”

It sounded annoyingly sensible.

Shay didn't want sensible. She wanted to charge in and find out the truth. Preferably with force. She most certainly didn't want to hide away and wait for someone else to solve her troubles.

Yuck.

“And if you are trapped?” she demanded.

“Then you can come and rescue me,” he promised with a slow smile.

“You're so certain that I would?”

“If I am killed, you will be forced to return to Evor and whoever is holding him.”

She hid the sudden chill that inched down her spine. “The Lu said that Evor was alive and well.”

“Alive and well, but for how long?” he demanded.

This time she couldn't hide her horror. “Don't.”

Without warning his arms were about her and she found herself hauled tightly to his chest. She should have protested, but it just felt so damned good to be held.

Even if it was Viper's arms around her.

“Shay…I will protect you,” he whispered close to her ear. “That I promise.”

Leaning back she was about to say something.

Something that was quite thoroughly forgotten as he leaned forward to cover her lips in a kiss that melted her to her very toes.

 

The house in the elegant neighborhood north of Chicago was a testament to conspicuous consumption. Large enough to house a good size army, it was stuffed from basement to attic with rare works of art and priceless treasures.

Still, Shay was rather startled to discover that for all the echoing grandeur and lovely artifacts it managed to possess a sense of warmth.

Well, perhaps not so surprising, she acknowledged as she glanced at the woman walking at her side. There was something very down to earth and comforting about Abby. It was more than her casual jeans and T-shirt, or her ready smile. There was a natural ease about her that managed to thaw even Shay's tension. Not at all what she would have suspected from the Phoenix, a bane of demons everywhere.

Thankfully oblivious to Shay's simmering amazement, Abby pushed open the door to the library and motioned Shay within.

“You should find something here that will tempt you,” she murmured.

Shay stepped over the threshold and came to a stunned halt. When Abby had requested to know how she spent her time Shay had casually mentioned her love for books. Of course, Abby had instantly been on her feet to lead Shay to their library. She seemed oddly anxious to please her guest. Especially considering that Viper had so high-handedly dumped her onto the doorstep like a bit of unwanted trash.

“My God, it's beautiful,” she breathed.

And it was.

The ceiling towered three stories above with a vast chandelier that cast a muted light on the hundreds and hundreds of leather-bound books. On each floor was a walkway to frame the endless shelves, and in the main room was a heavy walnut desk and matching leather wing chairs set beside a fireplace.

Abby chuckled at her unmistakable awe.

“Believe me, if Dante had his way the entire house would be overrun with books. It's only with grim determination that I keep most of them confined to this room.”

Shay moved forward to better appreciate the scent of aged leather. Ah. It was a little bit of heaven.

“He must have been collecting these a very long time,” she murmured.

“Over four hundred years.” Abby stepped forward to open a small cabinet set into the shelves. “If you would prefer a magazine you can find them here.”

Shay instinctively stepped from her companion. Almost as if she expected a blow. She had spent years being a slave. She didn't know how the hell to be a guest.

“Thank you.”

Straightening Abby sent her a curious gaze. “Are you afraid of me because I'm the Phoenix? I promise you I won't hurt you.”

Shay twisted her hands together, embarrassed that her discomfort was so obvious.

“I…Viper should not have forced me upon you.”

“Forced you on me?” Stepping forward Abby took Shay's hands in her own. Her skin was warmer than a normal human's, as if the spirit she carried within her spilled out with a gentle aura. It was the only indication that Abby was not quite normal, unless one counted the startling blue eyes that were the true mark of the Phoenix. With a smile, Abby gave her hands a small squeeze. “Surely Viper told you that I particularly sent Dante over to invite you to visit me? I have been longing to have you here.”

Shay ducked her head in confusion. “Why?”

Thankfully, Abby seemed to understand. “As much as I adore Dante, I miss the companionship of another woman.”

“You must have friends.”

Abby heaved a faint sigh. “No, not really.”

Shay abruptly lifted her head, realizing her words had been utterly thoughtless.

“Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't think about you being the Chalice…”

“It's not that, although it doesn't help to be considered a goddess by some.” Abby smiled wryly. “To be brutally honest, I've never really had any friends.”

“All humans have friends.”

“Not all.” Abby grimaced, as if recalling bad memories. Then, with an obvious effort the smile returned to her lips. “So, no more of this nonsense about being forced on me. I'm delighted to have you here.”

The last of Shay's anxiety melted beneath her kindness. It was simply impossible to be self-conscious and awkward with this woman.

“Thank you,” she said as a wide, genuine smile curved her lips.

Abby gave a startled blink, stepping back to regard Shay with an oddly bemused expression.

“Good God, no wonder Viper looks as if he has been struck by lightning,” she breathed.

“What?”

“You're gorgeous, but then you already know that.”

Shay blinked. “You're being ridiculous.”

“Have you looked in a mirror? If I weren't already mated, I would be jealous as hell.”

Wondering if Abby was teasing her, or if she were simply attempting to be kind, Shay gave a restless shake of her head.

“I'm half demon.”

“And Viper and Dante are full demon. Are you going to tell me you don't think they're beautiful?”

Well, hell. That was a loaded question.

Not only would a female have to be deranged not to think the two vampires were all sorts of yummy goodness, but this woman was married to one of them.

Shay had never had many friends, but she did know that it was bad form to imply that there was something less than perfect in their mate.

“Dante is very handsome,” she conceded.

Abby gave a lift of her brows. “And Viper?”

“He's a pain in the ass.”

“At times,” Abby readily agreed. Her head tilted to the side. “You know I was furious when I discovered that he had bought you from that horrid slave trader. I couldn't believe that he would do such a thing after you had saved his life.”

Well, thank freaking God.

At least someone understood her outrage.

“Trust me, neither could I.”

“But now, I must admit, I begin to wonder if his intentions were entirely selfish.”

“Well, he most certainly didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart,” Shay felt compelled to point out.

“Perhaps not entirely. He is after all a vampire.” She gave a chuckle. “But, I do think that you intrigued him enough that he felt compelled to seek you out.”

Shay gave an unconscious shiver. She agreed that she had intrigued Viper. Just not for the reasons a woman wanted to intrigue a man.

“I'm the last Shalott. Vampires have been hunting us since the beginning of time.”

“That might be true, but you don't look like you've been too harshly abused.”

Shay could have lied and pointed out that as a demon she healed with remarkable speed, but it would have been grossly unfair.

Viper had treated her with a tenderness that was as unnerving as it was unexpected. And even if she couldn't entirely trust that he wouldn't abruptly become the monster she dreaded, she had no reason for complaints.

“He has made…certain promises,” she admitted.

“Ah.”

What the
ah
meant Shay was never destined to discover as the door to the library was pushed open and a tall, raven-haired vampire entered the room.

“Sorry to intrude, my love, but Viper has returned,” Dante murmured with an apologetic smile.

Shay stiffened, her stomach clenching with dread. To have returned so swiftly could only mean he couldn't dig up any information of value.

“Already?”

Dante glanced toward his wife. “He has brought with him a witch.”

It was Abby's turn to stiffen. “He brought a witch to this house?”

Dante lifted his hands in a helpless motion. “He swears she is here to help Shay find the truth of her curse.”

There was a tense moment before Abby turned to regard Shay with a searching gaze.

“Do you wish to meet with her?”

Shay licked her dry lips. She better than anyone understood Abby's distaste for witches. Nothing like a near-death experience to bring people together.

Still, she had to trust that Viper knew what he was doing.

Dammit.

“I suppose I should.”

As if sensing the effort the words had taken, Abby gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

“Don't worry. We'll be with you.”

Styx was waiting in the lower caverns when Damocles strolled in through the darkness and moved toward the scrying pool.

As always Styx felt a surge of disgust for the flamboyant imp. Despite the bare rock and muddy floor the fool was attired in a rich, velvet robe that was heavily embroidered with golden thread. Even his hair was carefully arranged and threaded with those ridiculous leaves that filled the air with an annoying sound of bells. But it was more than his frivolous clothes and mocking manner that made Styx grit his teeth. The demon had brought nothing but misery and grief in his wake.

Had he been wise he would have turned the imp away the moment he had appeared. How could they possibly trust a demon who had once been a faithful servant to a vampire the Ravens had been forced to kill?

Unfortunately he had been blind to the danger until too late. Now he was forced to clean up the unfortunate mess as best he was able.

Waiting until the imp was nearly upon him Styx slid silently from the shadows to block his path.

“So you have failed again, imp,” he said in cold tones. “We do not have the Shalott, and even the pathetic troll eluded your grasp.”

Coming to a halt the imp performed an elaborate bow before rising to regard Styx with a lift of his brows.

“Failed? Such a harsh word. Especially for a poor man who has just lost his most treasured pet.” His hands swept down the black velvet of his gown. “Can you not see that I am in mourning?”

Styx bared his fangs. He had been furious when he had learned that Damocles had wakened the Lu and sent him rampaging through Chicago. They might as well have sent an engraved invitation to every one of their enemies.

“All I can see is a treacherous imp who feathers his own nest while serving poison to his master.”

Damocles pressed a hand to his chest, his expression one of mocking innocence. “Poison? Whatever do you mean?”

“Do not think that I am unaware of those goblets that you sneak to the master's bedchambers each night.”

“It is true that I send a mixture of rare potions to help ease our master's pain.” The imp shrugged. “Would you rather watch him suffer, or perhaps waste away entirely?”

“It was your foul concoctions that have brought him so low.”

Something flashed in the pale green eyes. Something that was dark and dangerous. Instinctively, Styx slid his hand beneath his robe to touch the hilt of his dagger.

“An evil charge? Can you offer proof?”

“I know that the master was improving greatly after…” In spite of himself Styx discovered that he was reluctant to continue.

“After you captured the Shalott's father and offered him up as a sacrificial lamb?” Damocles finished with a smile that made Styx struggle to maintain his icy calm.

By the saints he hated to be reminded of that necessary evil. Even after all these years it possessed the power to strike deep at his conscience.

Strange considering he could drown in the blood he had shed.

“Yes,” he gritted.

“I heard that he managed to kill three of your Ravens before you were able to beat him senseless and drag him to this cave.”

The desire to sink his teeth deep into the imp's slender throat and drain him dry was nearly overwhelming. Only the commands of his master kept him from being rid of the nasty pest.

“Regardless, the blood of the Shalott had cleansed him of his illness until you arrived with your…potions,” he accused, his hand still on his dagger.

The imp gave a toss of his golden curls. “I have only done what was commanded of me by my master. Do you question his decisions?”

“I should have sliced off your head the moment you appeared.”

“Ah, you would lay the sins of the master at the feet of the servant? Is that your notion of justice, Sir-Holier-Than-Thou?”

Styx gave a low hiss. “If there were any true justice, you would have died alongside your previous master.”

“As you would have done?”

“If necessary.”

Damocles merely smiled. “We shall see.”

“Enough.” Styx cursed the realization he allowed himself to become so easily provoked. The past was done. Only the future mattered. “I did not come to bandy empty words with the likes of you. I have convinced the master to allow me to retrieve the Shalott. Once you have revealed to me the location of the demon, you're…services will no longer be required.”

Predictably Damocles appeared exquisitely indifferent to the threat hanging in the air. With languid movements he circled past Styx to halt beside the scrying pool.

“I must say that I am surprised that you would take on such a task yourself,” the imp drawled.

Styx watched the demon with a fierce gaze. “Why?”

“Surely the master must have told you who is holding the Shalott?”

“If you have something to say, imp, then say it.”

“It simply seems odd that after all of your tiresome bleating about preserving vampire blood that you would be so eager to spill it now.” Damocles waved a slender hand over the scrying pool and motioned Styx closer. “Come.”

A cold sense of dread inched down his spine as Styx moved to peer into the murky water.

At first glance he could see only the delicate bronzed face of the Shalott. A face that looked hauntingly like her father's. He was swift to steel himself against any sense of regret at her fate. Her blood was all that stood between peace and chaos.

The water shifted and his attention turned to the man at her side. The dread spread through his body as he caught sight of the familiar silver hair and arrogant features.

“Viper,” he rasped in shock.

“A friend of yours?”

“Where are they?”

With a taunting smile Damocles gave another wave of his hand and the image pulled back to reveal an elegant mansion that Styx recognized at once.

Every vampire knew the address of Dante and Abby.

No demon wanted to accidentally stumble across the goddess.

“I will say the Shalott knows how to pick her companions.” The imp slid him a pointed glance. “Two vampires, a stunted gargoyle, and the Phoenix.”

Styx abruptly straightened. “What of the troll Evor?”

“I fear my meager attempts to discover his whereabouts have gone for naught.” Damocles gave a low chuckle. “Perhaps he has disappeared in the proverbial puff of smoke.”

“You find this amusing?”

“I find this deliciously ironic.”

Styx narrowed his gaze. “Be careful you do not choke on such irony.”

“Oh, I shall do my best.”

Styx had endured enough. He knew where to locate the Shalott. He had no further need of the aggravating imp.

“Have your bags packed while I am gone, Damocles. When I return I intend to see that you are escorted from the estate.”

“As you wish.”

Styx ignored the flamboyant bow the imp offered as he turned on his heel and left the chamber. Soon enough Damocles would be thrown from the estate or killed by his own hands. Either way he would no longer be able to spread his poison.

For now, nothing mattered but confronting Viper and somehow convincing him to give up his slave.

 

Waiting until he was certain that the vampire had left the cavern Damocles gave a soft laugh and moved toward the deep shadows behind the pool. With a wave of his hand the rock abruptly shimmered to reveal a hidden opening.

Damocles slid inside and carefully navigated the narrow stairs that had been chiseled into the ground. His nose wrinkled at the foul smells that filled the air. The smells of unwashed flesh and excrement.

Holding a prisoner was always a messy business.

Still, it did have its rewards.

Coming to a halt at the bottom step he regarded the pudgy troll who hunkered in the corner and glared at him with hatred in his beady red eyes.

“Well, Evor, I see that your imprisonment has not impaired your appetite,” Damocles murmured as he pointedly glanced toward the numerous bones that had been stripped clean and tossed over the ground.

The filthy troll gave a rattle of the heavy chains that held him to the wall.

“What else is there to do in this pigsty?”

Damocles gave a low laugh. “Is that any way to speak of your lovely chambers?”

“Bugger off.”

“Tsk, tsk. Such language.”

The red eyes narrowed with a low cunning. “What do you want of me? Money? Slaves?”

“Nothing so valuable.” With a lift of his hand Damocles patted his golden curls. “All I need from you, dear Evor, is your life.”