When Darkness Comes

"I get a lot of that."

His captor narrowed his gaze, no doubt surprised by Dante's casual indifference.

'Just don't make any hasty movements."

Dante flicked a brow upward. "Why would I make any hasty movements? I have nowhere to go." He took a moment to glance about, his nose wrinkling at the barren surroundings. "At least not at the moment."

Confusion flashed through the pale eyes before the man was pulling his lips into a tight smile.

"Nice try, but I was there when you tore apart six of my servants in an effort to save that woman."

Dante shrugged. Inwardly he was cursing himself. Six? Shit, he thought he had destroyed at least nine.

"I didn't have much of a choice. Those witches made sure of that."

'Just as they'll make sure you try to save her from the master."

Dante pretended to consider the accusation for a moment.

"Actually, I don't think so."

The man took an unconscious step closer. Unfortunately not close enough for Dante to get his teeth upon him.

"What do you mean?"

The chains rattled as Dante waved his hand toward the thick walls. "I don't know what it is about these caves, but the first time in three centuries that damn Phoenix doesn't have its claws stuck in me. I obviously owe you one. And a vampire always pays his debts." His smile widened. "Always."

A beat passed. Obviously his guardian was attempting to use what he loosely claimed as a brain.

'You're saying that you're free of the curse?"

"Who knows?" Dante leaned his head against the wall. "I'm just saying that I don't feel the least urge to lift a finger for that bitch who trapped me."

Another beat passed. "I don't believe you."

"Whatever." Dante shrugged. "At least tell me, is she dead?"

The man shot a revealing glance toward the darkened entrance.

"Not yet."

So, she must be near. A flare of anticipation raced through him before a warning voice reminded him that she might as well be a world away unless he could get the chains removed.

With an effort, he maintained his air of aloof curiosity. "Not yet? Why would you hesitate… ah. Of course. You're going to offer her up to the Prince, aren't you?"

The human stiffened at the hint of mockery in his voice. "When the time is right."

Dante casually studied his host, allowing his amusement to show.

"Let me give you a bit of advice, boy," he drawled softly. "Don't wait too long. There are all sorts of beasties out there who will kill you for the opportunity to be the one to give the Prince such a prize. The sooner you offer the sacrifice, the sooner you'll have glory beyond belief."

The stiffness increased as a hint of color touched the cheeks still rounded with youth.

'The glory belongs to my master."

"Master?" Dante gave a small snort of disbelief. "Are you telling me that you captured the Phoenix and handed her over for someone else to reap the rewards? Hell, don't you have a brain? Oh, maybe it's the balls you lack."

The color turned to purple as the man lifted the stake in a threatening motion.

"Watch your mouth, vampire. I would love nothing more than to stick this through your heart."

Dante merely laughed. He had hit a direct nerve. The man's frustrated ambition was nearly tangible in the air.

"God, I thought I had been pussy-whipped by those witches." He rubbed the salt a bit deeper into the open wound. "At least I never willingly allowed myself to be turned into a schmuck."

The pale eyes flashed with fury, but behind the anger was a cold hunger that he could not entirely conceal.

"I will have my rewards."

"A few crumbs dropped by the great master? Pathetic."

"Shut up."

Dante folded his arms over his chest, inwardly cursing the rattling chains. He hated chains. They made him want to bite something. Hard. Instead he smiled with mocking humor.

'You could have had it all. Power, glory, a place at the side of the Prince." His smile widened. "But then, maybe you like being a flunky. I've noticed most humans prefer being sheep to wolves."

A loud breath hissed through clenched teeth. "I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work."

Oh, it was working. The man was nearly drooling with the desire to snatch the power he felt being denied him.

"Look, I couldn't care less who manages to kill that bloody Phoenix, just as long as it's good and dead." Dante glanced down to inspect his fingernail. "I intend to walk out of this cave a free vampire."

The man gave a humorless laugh. 'You think the Prince won't want a taste of you?"

"Why should he?"

Another step closer, but still out of reach.

'You protected the Chalice."

Dante didn't even bother to glance up. That didn't mean, however, he wasn't fiercely aware of the exact distance that separated them.

"I was compelled by the witches. It wasn't as if I wanted to be chained like a dog."

"I doubt he's that understanding."

"I'd say my chances of living through the night are considerably better than your own."

A shocked silence filled the chamber. It was obvious the fool had not even considered the cost of returning the dark power to the world. Typical. Most wizards were concerned only with the rewards, never the sacrifice that would be demanded.

And there was always a sacrifice.

"Now what are you babbling about?" he rasped.

Dante lazily lifted his head to regard him with a steady gaze.

'You do know that the Prince can't survive in this world without feeding?" he demanded. "He requires blood. A lot of blood. Thankfully, I'm fresh out."

A frown touched the young man's brow. "The woman holding the Phoenix will be the sacrifice."

"Abby? She's barely a snack, even for me."

"I…" His lips tightened. "There are servants."

Dante chuckled. "I hope for your sake there is a whole flock of servants. Otherwise you're about to find yourself laid over the altar with a knife carving out your heart."

Gripping the stake so tightly it threatened to snap in half, the mortal paced toward the narrow opening. Farther away from Dante but clearly unnerved by the thought of altars and knives and the ripping out of hearts.

"I suppose you think I should let you go so that you can help me overthrow the master?"

"Me?" Dante gave a sound of disgust. "Why the hell would I want to help you? It doesn't matter to me who kills the bitch. I'm free either way."

The decidedly nervous disciple whirled back. A tick in his left eye revealed his barely controlled emotions.

"I don't think you're nearly as unconcerned as you want me to believe. I think you have feelings for the woman."

Dante widened his eyes in mock disbelief even as he inwardly conceded that the man was not quite the idiot he had supposed. Something to remember when it came time to kill him.

"I'm a vampire, you twit. I don't have feelings for anyone or anything. Although…" He deliberately allowed his words to trail away.

"What?"

"She was a helluva lay," he drawled, hopefully cementing his seeming disregard for a mere mortal. The moment this fool was certain Dante would travel to the pits of hell to save Abby was the moment he lost all advantage. "The things she could do with her tongue could make a man explode like a volcano. Ill have to admit I wouldn't mind another couple of rounds before she's tossed to the Prince. You should try her."

A disdain marred the youthful features. "Not all of us are animals."

"Ah… a woman hater. You prefer men? Or is it something a little more exotic?" Dante gave a taunting smile. "I have a friend who could fix you right up."

His captor spit on floor. "Filth."

"I may be filth, but I'm not the one who's about to be fed to the Prince." Dante settled himself more comfortably. "Give him my regards, won't you?"

Pressed near to the breaking point, the man strode forward, his robes fluttering about Ms slender form.

"Shut up or I'll shut you up."

"Whatever you say."

When Abby had first awoken, she had been relieved to discover she was simply alive. There seemed to be few things worse than being eaten by ravaging zombies. None that came directly to mind anyway.

Then she opened her eyes.

It took only a moment to realize she had been moved from the woods to a dark cavern of some sort. And that she was tied to a post stuck near a brazier that was belching out a foul smoke.

And that she was not alone.

She might have screamed if a rough cloth had not been tied over her mouth.

A man was standing directly before her. Or at least he appeared to be a man. She was not about to be overly hasty in handing out species assignments after the past few days. And there was something very nonhumanlike about his pasty white skin and hairless head. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">