Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(33)

Roke shrugged. “I prefer my pleasures be enjoyed with less water and fewer spectators.”

Cyn gave a sharp laugh. “Fair enough.” Rising to his feet he gestured to bimbo one and bimbo two. “Take a break, lassies.” Waiting for the females to reluctantly straighten, he laid a smacking kiss on Fiona’s pouting lips. “Don’t go far.”

With shrill giggles the nymphs hurried from the room, not bothering with clothes.

Roke grimaced. “How do you stand the noise?”

Cyn reached for a heated towel, wiping the water from his massive body.

“Didn’t you see those titties? Who the hell cares about giggles when you can have those as your personal plush toys?”

Roke was briefly assaulted by the memory of Sally’s slender body and breasts that fit in his hands with delicate perfection. Who wanted plush toys when you could have masterpieces?

He shivered, trying to ignore the hunger stirring deep inside.

“You never change,” he muttered.

Cyn narrowed his gaze, his amusement fading. “You have.”

Yeah. No shit.

“Get dressed and I’ll take you to the box.”

“What’s the point in putting on clothes?” Cyn shrugged. “I doubt I’ll shock anyone in this place and I intend to return to finish what I began with the nymphs once we’re done.”

Roke stiffened, the ground giving a tiny quake. “The point is you’re not getting anywhere close to Sally until you’re fully clothed.”

“She hasn’t seen a naked vampire?” Cyn unwittingly took his life in his hands as he stepped toward the door. “Maybe I should . . .” Roke was moving before he was even aware of what he was doing, pinning the massive vampire to the wall with one hand clenched around his throat. “Bloody hell,” Cyn rasped.

“I’m not entirely stable right now,” Roke confessed, his bloodlust simmering just below boil. “Don’t push me.”

Cyn scowled, his own power sending warning sparks of pain through Roke’s fingers and down his arm.

“So it’s true,” he growled. “That witch forced you into a mating.”

“It’s . . .” Roke dropped his hand, suddenly feeling weary. “Complicated.”

Styx’s lair in Chicago

Styx hadn’t been pleased when his mate had insisted that he leave behind the caves that had been his former lair. Darcy was convinced that he had a duty to his position as Anasso and had swiftly moved them into this house that looked like something Tony Montana in Scarface would own.

The marble, the gilt, and the priceless antiques were bad enough, but it was big enough and comfortable enough to encourage unwelcome visitors to linger far past their use-by date.

The current unwelcome visitors were Darcy’s mother, Sophia, and her new mate, Luc.

Styx had yet to forgive his mother-in-law for her participation in trying to force Darcy into the arms of the King of Weres, but for the sake of marital harmony (which was necessary to make sure he wasn’t kicked out of his bed) he’d agreed to grin and bear Sophia’s presence.

He hadn’t, however, agreed to watching the two painting one another’s toenails while they gorged on chocolate-covered strawberries.

Instead he retreated to his library hoping to find some peace and quiet, only to discover Viper waiting for him.

The current clan chief of Chicago wasn’t as large as Styx, but there was an unmistakable ripple of hard muscles beneath the ruffled white silk shirt and black satin slacks. His pale silver hair was worn long and his eyes were as dark as the night sky.

At the moment his hauntingly beautiful face was distracted as he stood beside the window overlooking the rose garden.

“I didn’t expect you,” Styx murmured, moving to stand beside his friend. “Is there trouble?”

Viper shook his head, his voice pitched so it wouldn’t carry to the various demons who strolled through the vast house.

“Not trouble, but I thought you would want to know that I was contacted by Bliss to tell me that she had an unexpected visitor at Pandora’s Box.”

Styx frowned. The name was vaguely familiar.

“Is that one of your clubs?”

“The one in Canada.”

Styx smiled with wry humor. He’d been to the club once.

Roman baths and half-dressed nymphs weren’t really his thing.

He was more a find-an-enemy-and-stab-it-with-his big-ass-sword kind of guy.

“Only you could take a frozen piece of rock and turn it into a fortune,” he said.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Viper smugly agreed.

“So who was this unexpected guest?”

“Cyn.”

“Not that unusual,” Styx pointed out. He’d only run across the path of the clan chief of Ireland on a handful of occasions, but each time Cyn had been draped in naked women. “The bastard has always enjoyed the sort of entertainment you provide.”

“Well, who wouldn’t?”

Styx snorted. “Do you have a point?”

“He said he was meeting Roke there.”

“Why?”

“Something about fey glyphs.”

Styx frowned. Fey glyphs? What did they have to do with locating Sally’s father?

“Did he say—”