Darkness Everlasting (Guardians of Eternity #3)(11)

Gripes, it was probably best he was no longer on the bed with her.

It was hard to have boyfriends when you were continually worrying about accidentally hurting them. Or at the very least revealing you weren't entirely normal.

Usually it didn't bother her. She kept her life full enough that she didn't need someone else to bring her a sense of meaning. But there were times when she was close to a man, and the scent and touch of him sharply reminded her of what she was missing.

"Why did you kidnap me?' she demanded.

Styx gave a lift of his shoulder. "1 must know what the Weres want with you."

"Why?"

A beat passed and Darcy thought he might refuse to answer her question. A real problem since she didn't imagine for a moment that she could force him. He might claim she had demon blood, but it wasn't demonic enough to take on a vampire.

That much she did know.

At last he heaved a sigh and met her searching gaze. "They have been creating difficulties for me."

Hmmm. That seemed . . . suicidal.

"You are in charge of the Weres?"

His expression was cold, aloof. Giving nothing away.

"They must answer to me."

"Are they your employees?"

"Employees?" The word sounded awkward on his tongue. "No. They owe me their fealty."

"Fealty. You mean like serfs?" Darcy gave a short laugh. "Isn't that a little medieval?"

A hint of impatience touched his beautiful features. "The Weres are beneath the laws of the vampires, and as the leader of the vampires they must obey me."

She blinked. If he was crazy, he at least made sure he was the head lunatic. A madman with ambition.

"So you're what? King of the vampires?"

"I am the master, the Anasso," he retorted with a smooth pride.

Darcy felt her lips quiver. She couldn't help it. There was something about such sheer, unmitigated arrogance that always struck her as funny.

Of course, most things in life struck her as funny.

She had discovered long ago that if she didn't laugh at the world and all its follies, then she would drown in bitterness.

"Wow." She widened her eyes. "Mr. Big Shot."

His expression remained unreadable, but the dark eyes seemed to flash with . . . something.

"Mr. Big Shot? That is a human term for leader?"

Darcy frowned. "You don't get out in the world much, do you?"

Styx shrugged. "More than I wish to."

"Actually, it doesn't really matter." She gave a faint shake of her head. She was glad that she wasn't the hysterical sort, but then again it was probably not the smartest thing to sit here chitchatting with the king of vampires. Or crazed lunatic. Whichever the case may be. "I've told you that I know nothing of this Salvatore. I certainly don't know anything about werewolves. I don't even believe in them. Now if you don't mind, I really need to get home."

"I fear I cannot allow that."

Her breath caught at the stark denial. "What do you mean?"

"Salvatore has gone to a great effort to track you down."

"I've told you, I can't help. I don't have any idea why he would be following me."

"Perhaps not, but your presence will still prove to be a benefit."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His gaze remained steady. "I believe that Salvatore wants you badly enough to negotiate for your release."

Stupidly it took a moment for Darcy to understand what he intended. Perhaps because she hadn't seen it coming. Or, more likely, because she just didn't want to believe he would really be that coldhearted.

She preferred to think the best of people. Even if they did happen to be blood-sucking monsters.

Go figure.

"You . . ." She licked her lips, not missing the way his gaze watched the movement with a dark intensity.

Unfortunately, she wasn't sure if he was thinking of sex or dinner. "You intend to hold me against my will and then negotiate to hand me over to the Weres?"

"Yes."

Painfully blunt.

"Even though you don't know what he wants from me?" she charged, with a frown. "He might want to sacrifice me for some horrible ritual. Or he might have decided I would make a tasty meal."

Styx turned to pace toward the window, then pulled aside the heavy shutters to reveal that night had already fallen. Of course—it was December in Illinois. The sun barely rose before it was headed down again.

Still, how long had she been asleep?

"Salvatore would not need to go to such effort for a mere sacrifice, or even a meal," he at last said in a low tone. "I believe he wants you alive."

"You believe?" Darcy made a rude noise. Karma or not she wasn't going to meekly allow herself to be handed over to a werewolf (if he really was a werewolf) without an argument. "I can't tell you how comforting that is. My tiny life might not be important to you, but I assure you that it's very important to me." She grabbed a pillow and tossed it at his back. With impossible speed he turned and snatched the pillow before it could touch him. Her throat went dry. Oh yeah, he was something other than human. "Please," she whispered, "I want to go home."