"Open this door."

"When night has fully fallen."

"Viper." His voice could have frozen the Sahara. "You will open this door or I will bring this entire house down upon our heads."

"Such talk is hardly likely to convince me that you should be released," Viper pointed out. "I did, after all, lock you in chains to keep you from killing yourself. You won't get out until I'm certain you've regained your senses."

Styx swallowed the fury that threatened to rise. Damn meddling friends.

"You have made your point. I don't intend to do anything stupid."

"I have your word you won't leave this room until night has fallen?"

"My word," he forced himself to choke out, stepping back as the door swung easily open. He waited until Viper was in the narrow room before reaching out to grasp his black silk shirt in a fierce grip. "What have you discovered?"

Viper grimaced but didn't try to pull away as he studied Styx's ravaged expression.

"Shay managed to follow Darcy's trail back to Salvatore's lair."

His teeth clamped together. It was what he expected, but that didn't make the pain any less.

"She's certain that Darcy is still there?"

"Yes."

"Is ..." Styx was forced to stop and clear his throat. "Is she harmed?"

Viper reached up to grasp his upper arm. "She is well. Styx, the Weres will not harm her. Not as long as they need her."

Styx growled deep in his throat. "Apparently, she was bleeding when she was taken from the grounds."

"Barely more than a scratch."

"And if it were Shay?"

The pale, elegant features hardened. "Then I would be the one locked in this room."

"Precisely."

"And you would be the one warning me that it would be beyond stupid to charge into Salvatore's lair without at least a plan." Viper gave a lift of his brows. "I think we've done enough blundering for one week, don't you?"

Styx abruptly loosened his grip on his friend and turned to pace across the dirt floor.

He couldn't deny that he had done more than his full share of blundering. An unheard-of weakness for the vampire who was renowned for his flawless logic.

And a weakness that he fully intended to put behind him.

There would be no blundering when it came to rescuing Darcy.

Sharply turning back around, Styx discovered his companion regarding him with a worried frown.

"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.




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