Darkness Everlasting (Guardians of Eternity #3)(100)

No matter what Salvatore had done to her, or even the fact that he had so recently been attempting to kill Styx, she couldn't make herself feel anything but pity-as he shuddered in agony.

Her hands lowered to grip Levet's shoulders as Styx stood over his vanquished opponent, his sword held in a formal position in front of his body and his expression coldly aloof. It was impossible to know what was passing through his mind as he stared down at the now naked man King at his feet.

As if aware of Styx's looming form, Salvatore gave a choked cough and forced open his eyes.

"End it, vampire," he muttered.

Offering a faint bow, Styx began to raise his sword.

"Styx . . . no!" Darcy cried, relieved when Levet grudgingly released his imprisoning hold so she could move forward. With stumbling steps, she reached Styx's side and grasped his arm. "Please, don't kill him."

For a heartbeat Darcy thought that Styx intended to ignore her plea. Standing so close to him, she couldn't foil to sense the taut fury that radiated from his stiff body.

After a tension-fraught moment, the dark head slowly turned and pinned her with a smoldering gaze.

"He will remain a threat to you as long as he lives," he growled.

A wise woman would have immediately fled from the sight of Styx's fully extended fangs and blood-splattered face. There was a savagery in the cast of his features that would terrify the stoutest heart.

She didn't so much as flinch, however, as she pressed her fingers into the granite hardness of his arm.

She would never fear this man.

Not even when he was in full vampire mode.

"He can't hurt me as long as I have you to protect me," she pointed out softly. "Please."

He glared down at her pleading expression before he gave a low hiss of annoyance.

"Bloody hell." Lowering his sword, he shifted his glare to the wounded Salvatore. "Remember this, wolf, if you so much as cross paths with Darcy I will not hesitate. You will be dead before you can take a breath."

With a low groan the Were managed to push himself to a half-seated position. Since he was completely nude it was easy to see that his wound was beginning to knit together, although he was far from healed.

His head hung down, his black hair covering his narrow face.

"Save your threats. I have failed. Soon enough the Weres will be extinct and the vampires can rejoice in our passing."

Styx narrowed his gaze, his jaw tightening at the bitter charge. "I have no desire to see the end of the Weres."

Salvatore gave a short laugh that ended in a painful cough. Darcy winced in sympathy. "Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe. You have imprisoned us to the point that we are incapable of producing children."

"You blame us for your lack of offspring?" Styx demanded.

"The doctors have confirmed my theory." Salvatore slowly lifted his head, his face pale but his golden eyes flashing with anger. "The wolves were meant to roam free. By keeping us caged you have slowly stolen our traditional powers. The most important of which is our females' ability to control their shifts during pregnancy."

Styx fell silent as he considered the ominous words. Then his expression hardened as he realized what Salvatore's words revealed.

"That's why you desired Darcy?"

Salvatore shrugged, clearly past caring who knew his plans. "Yes. She was . . . altered so that her werewolf traits were suppressed."

Levet made a disgusted sound. "That's why I couldn't tell what she was."

Styx's gaze never left the Were crouched on the floor.

Instinctively Darcy grasped his arm tighter, sensing his desire to finish what he had begun.

"She will never be yours," he rasped.

"Styx," she said in a pleading tone.

His head jerked to the side, his eyes hard and glittering in the dim light.

"No, Darcy. Please do not ask this of me."

Darcy blinked before she realized that he thought she was pleading for the opportunity to have a litter of children for the Weres.

She instinctively shuddered.

She had never been a woman who was overwhelmed by the need to produce babies. And certainly she wasn't going to sleep with a string of strangers for the sole purpose of having children.

That was . . . just wrong.

"Never," she assured him, with a small smile. "I only wanted to suggest that the vampires and Weres try to discover some means to compromise. There has to be a way that the Weres can regain their strength."

Both men regarded her with a faint hint of surprise. As if the idea of actually sitting down and discussing their quarrel was some sort of foreign concept.

And maybe it was.

"We could put it before the Commission," Styx at last grudgingly conceded. "They have already gathered here in Chicago."

Darcy turned her attention to the wounded Were. "Salvatore, are you willing to negotiate?"

He gave a low snarl as he glared at the vampire looming over him. "What is the point? We are mere dogs who have no say in the world of demons."

"That is not true," Styx denied coldly. "The Commission is above all races. They will give you a fair hearing."

"You want me to go on my knees and beg?"

"God save me from men and their pride," Darcy muttered. "What if it does take a bit of begging? Surely that's a small price to pay for the salvation of your— our—people?"