Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)(85)

Like the rest of the house, the room was drenched with a profusion of ivory and gilt, with massive chandeliers that hung from a cavernous ceiling. But instead of delicate furnishings and expensive carpeting, the walls were lined with glass cases that held rows of weapons. Guns, swords, crossbows, maces, daggers…the only thing missing was a rocket launcher, and Salvatore wouldn’t have been surprised if there was one or two tucked inside the wooden cabinets at the back of the room.

The floor was an expensive parquet affair, patterned in a sunburst, but there were also a half dozen workout mats tossed across the glossy wood, with casual indifference to the beauty of the craftsmanship.

Salvatore had his own armory and Olympic-sized gym in his Roman lair. What demon didn’t? But the contrast between the frilly French décor and the brutal arsenal was absurd enough to bring a smile to his lips.

He took another step forward, his gaze catching sight of Styx in a far corner.

The ancient vampire was wearing nothing more than a loose pair of yoga pants, with his long hair pulled back in a braid as he whirled a massive sword through the air. His movements were fluid and perfectly measured, the mark of a true swordsman.

A predator.

Salvatore’s wolf stirred in instinctive response.

Weeks ago, he and Styx had pitted their strengths against each other.

Styx had won that battle, arrogant bloodsucker, but Salvatore knew that things would be different now. With the demon lord dead and the power of his mating with Harley pulsing through his blood, he would prove a far greater match for the ancient vampire.

As if sensing Salvatore’s thoughts, Styx turned to regard his guest with a piercing gaze, the sword held loosely in his hand. Then, with a faint smile, he reached to pluck a matching sword from the glass case on the wall and casually tossed it in Salvatore’s direction.

Snatching the ornately carved hilt, Salvatore strolled forward, a growl of anticipation rumbling in his chest.

“Preparing for an invasion, Styx?” he drawled, gesturing toward the vast array of weapons.

“A good king is always prepared.” A taunting smile curled his lips. “Besides, I never know when I might be challenged by an arrogant Were who doesn’t know his place.”

“My place?” Salvatore paused to strip off the elegant Gucci jacket and white silk shirt. Then, kicking off the shoes, he lifted the sword in a silent invitation. “Do I have to teach you my place?”

“You are welcomed to try.”

Sweeping his sword upward, Styx attacked.

Salvatore was prepared, and with a swift motion he met the brutal flurry of strikes. His true strength was in his wolf, but he possessed enough power and skill with the sword to hold his own, even managing to get in a few blows.

Easily sensing Salvatore’s increased ability since their last confrontation, Styx flashed his fangs in a lethal smile, slicing his sword through the air with a ferocious speed. Salvatore grunted as his muscles absorbed the merciless impact of the attack, flowing in a seamless dance from one side to another.

They sparred in silence, retreating and advancing to the sharp crash of colliding steel and a shower of sparks.

Astonishingly, Salvatore found himself enjoying the mock skirmish. As King of Weres, it was difficult to find a partner who could match his strength, let alone his expertise. It was stimulating to fight a worthy adversary.

Even if that adversary was a leech.

Shoving aside his fear at Harley’s refusal to acknowledge their mating bond and the nagging certainty that Briggs was still out there somewhere, Salvatore lost himself in the pure pleasure of pitting himself against the immense vampire.

A mixture of sweat and blood from shallow wounds coated their skin before both of them stepped apart in mutual agreement.

With a feral smile, Styx set aside his sword and moved through an open door at the back of the room. He disappeared for only a moment before he returned with two damp towels, tossing one in Salvatore’s direction.

Salvatore put the sword on a nearby stand to be cleaned and oiled. Then he gratefully scrubbed away the sweat and blood. Whatever Hollywood director had decided that werewolves were savage, uncivilized beasts had never actually met a pureblood. No creature with such an acute sense of smell could be anything but fastidious.

Of course, not all Weres were blessed with his exquisite taste in fashion.

Styx leaned casually against a glass case, the wounds marring his broad chest rapidly healing.

“The mating with Harley has increased your strength.”

“It has.” Salvatore smiled wryly, realizing that the vampire hadn’t just been casually sparring. He was the Anasso and he would make it his priority to know the precise amount of power the King of Weres could call on. No one, after all, could call him stupid. “Along with the death of the demon lord.”

Styx narrowed his eyes, his expression hard with frustration.

“How the bloody hell could he have remained hidden from us all these years?”

Salvatore understood the vampire’s anger. The demon lord had managed to deceive them all.

“Because he truly wasn’t in this world.” Salvatore shrugged. “Without Mackenzie and then Briggs, the bastard would never have been able to injure the Weres.”

Styx grimaced. “They willingly allowed themselves to be anchors?”

“Si. Worthless cowards.”

“Unfortunately, there are always those willing to sell their souls for power. You are certain the demon lord is dead?”