Darkness Everlasting (Guardians of Eternity #3)(28)

Styx glared with a cold warning. He wasn't about to confess that he had no idea what the Were's devious plot had been. Or that Darcy had deliberately concealed her meeting with Salvatore. Not when the mere thought was enough to make his blood run hot and his fangs ache to sink into warm flesh.

Viper would no doubt lock him in a cellar until his senses could return.

"What does it matter? Isn't it enough that he dared to approach her at all?"

"But isn't that what you wanted, old friend?"

Styx stepped back with a frown. "What did you say?"

Viper gave a lift of his hands. "She can hardly be a suitable bargaining chip if Salvatore is not anxious to get his hands upon her. The fact that he dared certain death to try to retrieve her means that he will concede to any demand that you make of him."

Styx turned on his heel to pace down the alley. He didn't want Viper to see his expression. Not when it was bound to reveal his sharp flare of fury at the mere notion of handing over Darcy to the pureblood.

That was something he would consider later.

Much, much later.

"More likely he is simply arrogant enough to believe he is capable of stealing her away without conceding anything. He needs to be reminded of the dangers of crossing my will."

"So this is all a matter of teaching the Were a lesson?"

Styx turned back at the unmistakable disbelief in Viper's tone. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"I thought you desired to avoid bloodshed? Is that not why you took the woman in the first place?"

Avoid bloodshed? Not damn likely.

"He offered an insult that cannot be ignored."

Viper shrugged. "As long as you keep Darcy well guarded what does it matter if the man plots to steal her? Besides, would it not be best to avoid any direct confrontations until you have them back on their hunting grounds?"

Styx swallowed an angry curse. His old friend was treading on dangerous ground. What he did or did not do with Darcy was no one's concern but his own.

"There will be no ... negotiations until I have discovered what he wants of her," he rasped.

There was a startled pause before Viper tilted back his head to chuckle with seeming delight.

"I see."

"What?" Styx moved back up the alley to stab the chortling vampire with an impatient glare. "What is so amusing?"

"You."

"Me?" Styx clenched his hands with an impotent annoyance. He was many things. Arrogant, commanding, fiercely lethal. But he had never, ever been amusing. At the point of reminding his companion that it was a dangerous habit to laugh at his leader, Styx was suddenly distracted by an unexpected scent. "Hold on, Viper, something approaches."

Viper thrust aside his lingering amusement at his friend's obvious befuddlement. He would have plenty of time later to enjoy watching Styx brought firmly to his knees. For now, he was far more interested in the unmistakable stench of approaching curs.

"They're trying to surround us," he muttered, pulling out the two small daggers he had tucked into his jacket before leaving his club.

Weapons—never leave home without them.

A motto that had kept him alive for a long time.

Styx tilted back his head to sniff the air. "Three from the south and two from the north."

Viper grinned in anticipation. His mate, Shay, took a very dim view of him engaging in recreational battles. Like many women, she simply didn't have a taste for violence and there was always a lecture waiting him when he happened to come home with a few bloody gashes.

But tonight she couldn't possibly expect him to stand aside and allow his master to become a midnight snack for curs.

"Good." He twirled the daggers in his hands. "You take the north, I'll take the south."

Styx lifted an eyebrow. "They're after me. I'll take the south."

"Flip you for it?"

"Just take the north," Styx commanded, turning his back to Viper so they each faced one end of the alley.

"Aren't you supposed to be a little more democratic? You are, after all, an American now," Viper demanded, his gaze restlessly searching the thick shadows.

"I'm a vampire, and until someone takes my place, my word is law."

Well, it was hard to argue the arrogant claim.

His word was law.

And since it had been Viper who had killed the old leader to put Styx on the throne, he couldn't really complain now.

"Fine, have it your way."

"I always do," Styx smoothly claimed.

Viper couldn't argue that either.

The chilled breeze swirled through the alley and Viper tightened his grip on his daggers. The curs were near. Very near.

There was the faintest sound of claws scraping against the pavement, and then with a howl the curs charged into the alley at full force.

They had already shifted, but even in wolf form they were as large as ponies and possessed inhuman strength. They were also as vicious as hell.

With red eyes glowing in the dark they lunged toward Viper, indifferent to the knowledge that they were severely outmatched. It would take more than five curs to best two vampires. Especially when both of those vampires happened to be clan chiefs.

Spreading his feet, Viper crouched low. A cur would always go for the throat first. It was as predictable as the sun rising.