When Darkness Comes

Sinking his nails deep into the arms of the man, he allowed his fangs to lengthen. Before he had been chained to the Chalice, he would have drained the man. Now he would have to settle for ripping out his throat.

A pity.

His head lowered. Unfortunately the wizard was not about to be sacrificed without a fight With cold determination, the wizard battled back, his low chants filling the darkness even as he reached into his pocket to remove a smooth ebony stake.

A burst of light suddenly filled the hall, blinding Dante and forcing him to dodge backward. A stake was a stake, and he wasn't about to allow overconfidence to lead to his demise.

He carefully circled the man. Waiting for an opening.

The wizard glanced down at his bleeding arms. "You do know there is no need for us to be enemies? I could release you from your bondage. You give me the Chalice and I shall ensure you are set free."

Dante smoothly reached out to slash the man's face. 'You think I would trust you?^'

The wizard flinched but his composure never wavered. "Why not? There's no gain for me to kill you. For the moment, you stand in my way, but if you were to step aside, we could prove to be valuable allies."

"Tempting, but I don't think so."

"The witches have you that cowed?" he taunted, the stake held casually in his fingers as if he forgot he even held it. Dante was not stupid. The wizard hoped to rile his anger and give him the opportunity to strike. "Pathetic."

Dante shrugged. "It has nothing to do with the witches."

'Then…" The wizard gave a sudden laugh. "Ah, of course. You have come to care for the girl. You are worse than cowed; you're completely neutered."

"Actually, you have missed the most obvious reason I refuse to join forces with you."

The cold eyes narrowed. "And what would that be?"

"I don't like you."

At last realizing that Dante was not going to be bullied or coerced, the wizard grasped the medallion about his neck. He would have to risk the anger of his master if he were not to die in this hallway.

Dante crouched, preparing himself for the coming attack.

Despite the muggy night air, Abby was shivering.

It was more than the creepy trip through the spider-infested tunnel. Or the realization that by standing on the corner by herself she might as well be wearing a sign that said "Come Eat Me" to every demon in Chicago.

It was more the sense of Dante that coiled through the back of her mind.

She might not be able to read his thoughts, but his emotions were blatantly clear. He was not laying a false trail. Or even searching for the scent of the strange demon.

He was confronting the wizard.

She could feel his lethal intent as if it were her own.

Damn him to hell.

She was going to…

Her imagination failed her, but it was going to be really, really bad.

Stewing on potential repercussions, Abby froze as she heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps.

"I'm tired of this shit. I'm not a freaking bloodhound," a male voice muttered. "We've lost her."

"Shut up and keep searching. Unless you want to return to the master and confess you have failed him?" an icy voice demanded.

Silently Abby pressed herself into the bush beside the tree. Her pursuers seemed to be human, but she wasn't overly relieved.

Not after she had seen what the wizard did to the coven.

Ick.

"She could be anywhere by now."

"Listen to me, you moron." Peering through the leaves, Abby watched a short, squat man grab a pimply faced boy by the throat. "When I found Amil, he was splattered over the altar like a slaughtered pig. I have no intention of joining him in hell. At least not yet."

Another man who was built like a linebacker and possessed the expression of savage stupidity curled his hands into fists.

"Perhaps the vampire will do us all a favor and kill the bastard," he growled.

The short man whirled to face him. "Are you willing to risk your life on an impotent vampire?" He waited for either man to speak. They were obviously not as stupid as they looked since both dropped their heads to study their toes. "Fine. Fan out and search the block."

There was a brief, tense moment as if the two goons were debating sticking a knife in the head goon. No honor among thieves and all that. Then, seemingly coming to their senses, they turned and grudgingly trudged down the street.

Abby forced herself to remain utterly still as she waited for the remaining merry man to be on his way. There were all sorts of hidey-holes to be searched.

Most of them far more intelligent spots for hide-and-seek than her own sad, scraggly bush.

He didn't scurry away. He didn't even meander away. He remained as rooted to the spot as the ancient oak. It seemed her streak of piss-poor luck was remaining firmly intact.

With a grand gesture that would have made Abby laugh under normal circumstances, the annoying twit reached into the pocket of his heavy robe and pulled out a strange rock that was hanging upon a chain. Holding it upward, he began to chant beneath his breath.

Abby didn't know what the rock did, but she was certain it couldn't be good.

Not good at all, she acknowledged as the rock glowed with a purple hue and a smirk touched the round face.

"You are Bear, Chalice. I can sense you." He moved to search the nearby parked cars. He peered into the branches of the tree. And inevitably he spread the leaves of the bush. "Hello. What do we have here?"

Abby should have been terrified. Or at the very least slightly fearful.

Instead she was really and truly pissed off.

Dammit. She wasn't out looking for trouble. All she wanted was to find the witches and be done with the whole ridiculous business.

Why the hell couldn't they just leave her alone?

As her temper mounted, so did the tingle of heat that was filling her blood. The Phoenix within her was preparing to take measures to protect itself.

And there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.

Pressing herself into the prickly branches, she held out her hand. "Stay back."

"Or what? You'll scream?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

There was a beat before he gave an ugly laugh. 'You hurt me?"

'Yes."

'You haven't got the skill or the nerve. That's the trouble with you Goody Two-shoes." He glanced deliberately downward. "No balls."

The fire burned even hotter. Freaking hell. Why wouldn't the idiot shut up and walk away? She had warned him, hadn't she?

Of course he possessed testosterone. A woman offering him a warning was as good as waving a red flag in front of his face.

"I'm telling you that you're the one who won't have any balls if you don't leave me alone."

'You think your vampire is going to come rushing to your rescue? I can promise you he's already back in his grave where he belongs."

Abby shook her head. She didn't know much, but she did know that Dante wasn't in any grave. Not until she got her hands upon him.

"No, he's very much alive."

The man shrugged. "It doesn't matter. He'll soon be dead or turned to our side. The master has a special talent for recruiting." The round face hardened. "Even those who never wanted to worship the dark lord."

"It's not too late," she urged. 'You can walk away."

"Walk away? No one walks away. Not unless they have a death wish," he snarled. 'You've wasted enough of my time. Let's go."

"No."

"Shit." He lifted a threatening fist. "Do you think I won't hurt you? The master said you were to be alive, but he didn't say anything about roughing you up."

Abby didn't doubt his willingness to hurt her for a moment. She sensed that he took a great deal of pleasure in slapping around those weaker than him.

Just like her father.

But he was no demon or zombie or even powerful wizard.

She knew deep in her heart she could Mil him with horrible ease.

'Tine, I'll come, but you have to step back first," she retorted, hoping to gain some distance.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" The beady eyes narrowed as he reached out to grab a handful of her hair. "I've had enough, come on."

Abby's eyes watered as he gave a savage yank on her hair. She found herself tumbling forward, and out of sheer instinct, she reached up to grasp the man's arm. She had only intended to keep from planting her face in the ground, but the moment her hands touched his wrist, a burst of heat flared from her palms.

The man gave a keening cry as he snatched his hand free and cradled it to his chest.

"You… bitch. You stupid bitch," he gritted, a malevolent hatred glittering in his eyes. 'You'll pay for that."

A sickness tightened Abby's stomach. She recognized that expression. She should. She had seen it often enough.

With a flashback of horror, she watched as the man curled his fist and raised it to strike.

No.

She rose to her feet.

Not again. Not ever again. 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">