Embrace the Darkness (25 page)

Not for the first time he questioned his decision to remain. He had made a vow. And his word was his honor. But these days his honor was feeling decidedly tarnished.

“Styx?”

The soft rasping voice filled the air and unconsciously squaring his shoulders, Styx forced his feet to carry him into the room dominated by the vast four-poster bed.

The heat from the roaring fire was enough to make his skin prickle and the stench of rotting flesh nearly overwhelming, but Styx never allowed his steps to falter as he moved to the bed and gazed down at the vampire he had sworn as his master. He didn't look like a master.

Not anymore.

Once a large, towering figure he was now so shrunken and shriveled that he appeared more like a mummy than the most powerful vampire to walk the earth. Even his hair was falling out to reveal the growing lesions that marred his flesh. He had the look and smell of death, but only a fool would believe that he was weak. The glittering black eyes revealed the cunning and dangerous power that still smoldered within him.

Halting beside the bed Styx offered a deep bow. “My lord, you wished to see me?”

A faint smile touched the gaunt, hollow face. “Ah Styx, I hear you have brought me Viper, and that soon he will call my Shalott.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I would prefer to have the demon in my grasp, but you have done well. Of course, you always do.”

“Unfortunately my best does not seem to always be enough.” He knew his voice was stiff, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“Such modesty. And something else in your voice.” Those dark eyes regarded him with a piercing intelligence. “Surely it is not regret?”

“I do not like harming a friend.”

“I presume you are referring to Viper?” he asked softly.

Styx clenched his hands at his side. When he had been commanded to capture Viper along with the Shalott he had argued long and hard against it. Surely they had battled to bring an end to precisely this sort of treachery among vampires?

“Yes. He is an honorable man. He does not deserve to be treated in such a manner.”

The Anasso heaved a faint sigh. “My old friend, you know that I would gladly welcome him as a brother if he will use the amulet to bring us his slave. Has he done so?”

“No.” Styx grimaced. “He…possesses feelings for the Shalott.”

“A pity.” The elder vampire stroked the crimson velvet of his robe as if in deep thought, but Styx didn't miss the dark gaze that carefully measured his expression. “Like you I have no taste for causing injury to my brethren. Unfortunately we cannot afford to waver now. The Shalott is almost in our grasp. He must use the amulet.”

“And if he won't?”

“I possess full faith that the Ravens will convince him.”

“You have given commands to have him tortured?”

“It was your decision, not mine, Styx,” the Anasso reminded him gently. “I preferred a far less…messy solution.”

Styx stiffened, his face hardening with distaste. “To have Viper murdered and the demon taken by force?”

Something flashed through the dark eyes before the vampire was deliberately smoothing his features to an expression of weary patience.

“A harsh accusation, my son.”

“What would you call it?”

A thin, gnarled hand lifted in a helpless motion. “An unfortunate sacrifice for the greater cause.”

Styx gave a shake of his head. “Pretty words do not make it any less despicable.”

“Do you think I have no regrets, my son? That I would not alter the past if possible? I hold myself entirely to blame for the circumstances we find ourselves in.”

As well he should, Styx acknowledged. It had been his weakness that had led to this moment. His lust for the forbidden that might very well kill a noble vampire.

“I am aware of that, my lord.”

Easily hearing the distaste in his tone the Anasso offered a faint frown.

“Perhaps you believe I should allow Viper and the Shalott to walk away? Without her I am certain to die.”

“There must be some other means.”

“I have sought every means possible, even taking those vile concoctions that the imp is forever thrusting upon me.” The elder vampire sharply interrupted. “There is nothing to halt the disease but the blood of the Shalott.”

“Shay,” Styx said softly.

“What?”

“The Shalott's name is Shay.”

“Yes, of course.” There was a long pause as the elder vampire studied him in thoughtful silence. “Styx?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“If you have changed your mind, I understand. I have put you in an untenable position and for that I am deeply sorry.” He weakly reached up to touch Styx's arm. “You must know that your faith and loyalty mean more to me than life itself.”

A tightness clutched at Styx's chest. “You are very kind, my lord.”

“Not kind.” A faint smile touched the decaying lips. “Do you recall when we first met?”

“I was battling a pack of werewolves, as I recall.”

A soft chuckle disturbed the thick air. “You informed me that I would have to wait for my turn to be killed.”

Styx grimaced. “I was still young and brash.”

“Do you remember what I said?”

Styx slowly turned to watch the blazing flames in the marble fireplace. He was not entirely stupid. He realized that the Anasso was deliberately reminding him of the day he had offered his pledge. And perhaps, just as importantly, reminding him of the cause that had bound them together.

A cause that went beyond either of them.

“You said that you intended to stop the flow of blood,” he said in an empty voice. “To write the destiny of the vampire race in the stars. To band us together and meld greatness out of chaos. And then you asked me to walk at your side.”

“At my side, Styx. Never behind.” There was a strategic pause. “I want this to be your decision, my son. If you believe it is best to release Viper and allow the Shalott to roam free then that is what we will do.”

“No, my lord.” Turning Styx regarded the frail man with a sharp pang of horror. “I cannot—”

The vampire lifted his hand to halt his refusal. “Think upon it, Styx, but think quickly. We do not have much time left.”

Dawn was hovering just over the horizon as Levet scoured the sharply carved bluffs. Below them the charming farmhouse was nestled in a shadowed slumber while the mighty Mississippi River slid by in silent grandeur.

Hardly the setting for a band of dark vampires intent on murder, mayhem, and good old-fashioned bloodletting. Of course, it might have been a little difficult to hide a gothic castle complete with bats and creepy servants in the middle of the heartland. That was the sort of thing people tended to notice.

Leaning against a tree as the gargoyle pulled aside bushes and fallen rocks Shay absently rubbed the muscles of her legs. She had run full out for over six hours as she had tracked the limo through the back roads of Illinois. There had been no means of keeping pace with the automobile, but the scent of so many vampires had been enough for her and Levet to follow.

And follow, and follow, and follow…

Her stamina was well beyond a human's but that didn't keep her muscles from cramping into knots the size of Mount Rushmore. Or her feet from feeling as if they had been put through a meat grinder more than once.

At least the pang in her side had stopped throbbing and her breathing was almost back to normal. And even more importantly she had managed to make a short detour to a nearby farmhouse so she could borrow a thick flannel shirt that protected her from the crisp night air. Borrowing sounded so much nicer than stealing.

Glancing toward the sky she cleared her throat. “Levet, the clock is ticking.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered, pulling and tugging at a pile of thick brush. “It is here. I smell it.” There were a few more grunts and then the gargoyle was abruptly straightening.
“Voila.”

“
Voila?
What the heck is that supposed to mean?” she demanded as she moved forward to study the narrow crack in the rock.

Levet gave a sniff as he squeezed through the opening. “It is a crime against nature that not all people are French. Are you coming?”

She sucked in a deep breath as her palms began to sweat. Saint's blood. Another dark and dank hole. She had sworn that once she was free of the witch's coven she would never enter another one.

You won't ever be alone in the dark again.

Viper's voice seemed to whisper through the back of her mind, easing the flare of fear that had threatened to overwhelm her. She was not alone. She had Levet at her side, and Viper waiting for her to rescue him.

“I'm coming,” she said in firm tones, pushing herself through the opening and into the wide tunnel beyond. Wide but not tall she discovered as she banged her head on the low hanging ceiling. “Ouch. Dammit, Levet. You could have warned me.”

“You should not be so tall,” Levet muttered from the dark. “We need light.”

“No.” Shay reached out blindly, desperate to halt her friend from creating disaster. Amazingly, however, there were no explosions, no sudden ash in the air. Just a small ball of light hovering over Levet's grinning face. She breathed out a shaky sigh as she rubbed her throbbing head. “Shit, Levet, you could have blown us both to tiny bits.”

Levet stuck out his tongue. “Bah.”

Returning her attention to more important matters Shay glanced about the tunnel, sniffing the musty air that held no trace of humans or demons.

“No one has passed through this tunnel for years,” she murmured.

Levet pointed toward the large crack that ran along the wall. “It's unsteady.”

A chill inched down her spine. “How unsteady?”

The gargoyle gave a small shrug. “It is sound enough for the moment, although I would suggest that you avoid setting off a stick of dynamite.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Smiling gently at her forced attempt at humor Levet moved to take her hand in his own. “The sun comes and I would have your promise before I am forced to slumber.”

She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “What promise is that?”

“I can't stop you from going in search of Viper, but I want your word that you won't do anything stupid.”

Shay rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Why do people keep saying that to me?”

“Because you are rash, and impulsive, and you let your heart lead your path. Just be careful.”

“I will, I promise.”

She bent down to give his cheek a kiss just as the cave was lit with the first glow of dawn. By the time she had straightened, or had straightened as much as she could without smacking her head, the gargoyle had turned to stone.

With a last pat on Levet's head she turned and walked deeper into the tunnel.

 

Although immortality had a number of benefits, there were a handful of downsides to living forever.

The endless tedium of the Dark Ages.

The ghastly fashions of the sixties.

The annoyance of learning new technology.

And, worst of all, surviving even the most brutal torture.

And surviving, and surviving, and surviving.

Viper had long since lost track of how much time had passed since he had been hauled down to the dank cavern. Somehow hanging from the ceiling by silver chains and having his flesh sliced open by whips was proving a helluva distraction.

He did know that it was long enough that far too much of his blood had pooled onto the rough stone floor. And that it was increasingly difficult to hold up his head.

With a brutal rhythm the whips cracked through the air, never pausing, never quickening, never altering. A slow, steady rhythm that was ruthlessly shredding his back and legs. The end came without warning. One moment the whip was biting deep into his back and the next the silent Ravens were filing from the shadowed cavern.

He might have groaned his relief if he hadn't sensed Styx step into the room and cross to stand directly before him. He would chug holy water before he would allow his captor to witness any hint of weakness.

Easily able to read his dark thoughts the tall vampire made an impatient sound even as his hand reached out to gently touch one of the gashes that ribboned Viper's back.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Viper? It serves you nothing. All you need do is call the Shalott and you will be released and healed.”

Ignoring the agony of even the smallest movement Viper lifted his head to glare at his one time friend.

“The moment you release me I will kill you.”

The bronzed face might have been carved from granite. “I am not your enemy.”

“So this is how you treat your friends?” Viper spit at his feet. “Then I can only say that your hospitality sucks.”

“You know I would never see you harmed. I would never wish harm upon any of my brothers.” Styx lifted his hand from Viper's back and frowned at the blood that stained his fingers. “I seek to save us all from chaos and ruin.”

“No,” Viper hissed. “You seek to sacrifice a young, innocent woman to save a vampire who brought about his own ruin. Or do you deny the weakness of the Anasso?”

Styx clenched his hands at his sides. His loyalty to his master was without question, but not even he could entirely hide his dislike for the illness that had ravaged the once powerful vampire.

It was a closely held secret that vampires could be affected by taking the blood of those who were addicted to drugs. And an even more closely held secret that vampires themselves could be chained to the addiction. The tainted blood would slowly, but ruthlessly destroy any vampire.

Even the Anasso.

“That is all in the past,” Styx retorted in frigid tones.

“You mean after he was cured by Shay's father?”

“Yes.”

Viper gritted his teeth as a fresh wave of pain shot down his arms. Vampires were not meant to hang from ceilings by silver shackles. Of course, they were not intended to be kidnapped by companions they had once called friend, or whipped like a savage dog.

“If it is in the past why is he ill once again?” he demanded.

To his surprise Styx turned to pace across the damp floor, his flowing black robe unable to hide the tightness that clenched at his shoulders. Slowly he bent his head, almost as if he were in prayer.

“Does it matter?”

Viper's pain was forgotten as a violent fury surged through him.

“Considering you intend to murder the woman I love, then yes, it matters a great deal.”

Styx visibly flinched, as if Viper had actually reached out to strike him.

“I…regret the necessity. You cannot know how much, Viper, but you must think what will occur if the Anasso dies.” Slowly turning the vampire regarded Viper with a haunted expression. “Vampire will rise up against vampire. Some to claim dominion over us, and others simply to return to the days before peace. The blood of the clans will drown us all while the jackals wait to return to their place of glory.”

“Jackals?” Viper frowned. “You mean the weres?”

“They are banded together beneath a new king. A young and fierce werewolf who dreams of the day when they rule the night,” Styx retorted, his voice dark with concern. “It is only fear of the Anasso that keeps them from howling at our doorstep.”

Viper gave a slow shake of his head. By the blood of the saints. Was Styx truly so blind? Had he been rattling around these dark caves for so long that he had no idea what was going on in the world?

“You are a fool, Styx,” he growled.

The dark eyes narrowed. “No doubt many would agree with you, but never to my face.”

As if a handful of insults would make a spit's worth of difference, Viper thought with a humorless smile. He was already being tortured. What the hell else could they do to him?

“Open your eyes, old companion,” he rasped. “It is not the Anasso who keeps the vampires from ripping one another apart. Or even who holds the werewolves at bay.”

Styx managed to look as if Viper had just muttered blasphemy. And perhaps it was to him. He had devoted his existence to the Anasso. He could obviously not see beyond that.

“Of course it is,” Styx insisted. “He is the one who led us all to glory.”

“Perhaps he did lead us, but no one has actually seen or spoken with the Anasso in centuries. He is little more than a vague shadow remembered for past deeds.”

“They fear him. They fear the power he wields.”

“No, they fear you, Styx. You and your Ravens. You are the ones who rule the vampires whether you will it or not.”

Styx stiffened, his features tight with shock. “That is treason.”

“It is the simple truth.” Viper grimaced, barely capable of keeping his head lifted. His strength was draining away with his blood. “Leave this place and walk among the clans if you desire the truth, Styx. Your loyalty has blinded you.”

Styx gave a low hiss. “I came here in the hope you could be made to see sense. Obviously your madness runs deeper than I had feared.” His slender hand reached to touch the medallion at his neck. “When you are prepared to call for the Shalott I will return.”

Turning on his heel the vampire left Viper to the pain and darkness.

Not that Viper truly minded. As the silver chains bit into his flesh and his muscles clenched in fiery agony, he could swear that he could smell the sweet scent of Shay.

 

The tunnels that honeycombed the bluff proved to be a bewildering maze that more often than not led to dead ends, or worse, circled back to the precise spot she started from. Within a half hour of fruitless searching she was lost and muttering a string of French curses. She didn't know what half of them meant, but they seemed somehow perfect as she stumbled and squeezed her way through the thick darkness.

She muttered them again as she smacked her head on a half dozen occasions and once nearly fell into a gaping hole in the floor. The place was obviously a deathtrap. A moldy, damp, and smelly deathtrap, which no doubt harbored any number of nasty, creepy spiders. Inching ever deeper beneath the bluffs she at last caught the unmistakable scent of vampires.

Oh, thank freaking heaven.

She would rather battle a herd of ravaging vampires than spend another moment trapped alone in the moldy tunnels.

Smelling vampires, however, and actually finding them proved to be two different things.

There didn't seem to be one tunnel that actually went in a straight line. Damn tunnels. And she was forced to circle through half of Illinois before she at last began to discover torches set in the walls, and occasional rugs and tapestries that revealed she was nearing the hidden lairs.

Coming to a fork she paused to take a deep breath. The vampires were most definitely to the right. At least seven of them. But to the left there was the smell of humans. A whole flock of humans who smelled of fear and sickness. There was also more. A faint odor of imp and…troll?

Her heart gave a brief leap. Could it be Evor? Was he close enough for her to capture once she rescued Viper? It had to be worth a try.