When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1)(43)

"I doubt he's that understanding."

"I'd say my chances of living through the night are considerably better than your own."

A shocked silence filled the chamber. It was obvious the fool had not even considered the cost of returning the dark power to the world. Typical. Most wizards were concerned only with the rewards, never the sacrifice that would be demanded.

And there was always a sacrifice.

"Now what are you babbling about?" he rasped.

Dante lazily lifted his head to regard him with a steady gaze.

'You do know that the Prince can't survive in this world without feeding?" he demanded. "He requires blood. A lot of blood. Thankfully, I'm fresh out."

A frown touched the young man's brow. "The woman holding the Phoenix will be the sacrifice."

"Abby? She's barely a snack, even for me."

"I…" His lips tightened. "There are servants."

Dante chuckled. "I hope for your sake there is a whole flock of servants. Otherwise you're about to find yourself laid over the altar with a knife carving out your heart."

Gripping the stake so tightly it threatened to snap in half, the mortal paced toward the narrow opening. Farther away from Dante but clearly unnerved by the thought of altars and knives and the ripping out of hearts.

"I suppose you think I should let you go so that you can help me overthrow the master?"

"Me?" Dante gave a sound of disgust. "Why the hell would I want to help you? It doesn't matter to me who kills the bitch. I'm free either way."

The decidedly nervous disciple whirled back. A tick in his left eye revealed his barely controlled emotions.

"I don't think you're nearly as unconcerned as you want me to believe. I think you have feelings for the woman."

Dante widened his eyes in mock disbelief even as he inwardly conceded that the man was not quite the idiot he had supposed. Something to remember when it came time to kill him.

"I'm a vampire, you twit. I don't have feelings for anyone or anything. Although…" He deliberately allowed his words to trail away.

"What?"

"She was a helluva lay," he drawled, hopefully cementing his seeming disregard for a mere mortal. The moment this fool was certain Dante would travel to the pits of hell to save Abby was the moment he lost all advantage. "The things she could do with her tongue could make a man explode like a volcano. Ill have to admit I wouldn't mind another couple of rounds before she's tossed to the Prince. You should try her."

A disdain marred the youthful features. "Not all of us are animals."

"Ah… a woman hater. You prefer men? Or is it something a little more exotic?" Dante gave a taunting smile. "I have a friend who could fix you right up."

His captor spit on floor. "Filth."

"I may be filth, but I'm not the one who's about to be fed to the Prince." Dante settled himself more comfortably. "Give him my regards, won't you?"

Pressed near to the breaking point, the man strode forward, his robes fluttering about Ms slender form.

"Shut up or I'll shut you up."

"Whatever you say."

When Abby had first awoken, she had been relieved to discover she was simply alive. There seemed to be few things worse than being eaten by ravaging zombies. None that came directly to mind anyway.

Then she opened her eyes.

It took only a moment to realize she had been moved from the woods to a dark cavern of some sort. And that she was tied to a post stuck near a brazier that was belching out a foul smoke.

And that she was not alone.

She might have screamed if a rough cloth had not been tied over her mouth.

A man was standing directly before her. Or at least he appeared to be a man. She was not about to be overly hasty in handing out species assignments after the past few days. And there was something very nonhumanlike about his pasty white skin and hairless head.

And of course there was his outfit.

What sort of man wore heavy robes and a medallion that looked as if it had been ripped off some sports car?

Even as the aimless thoughts floated through her mind the thing reached up to stroke a finger down her cheek. Abby gagged at the clammy feel of his touch, desperately wondering where Dante was.

He had to be near, she told herself. Perhaps even now plotting her rescue.

She didn't for a moment consider the fact he might be injured. Or, God forbid, dead.

That path only led to stark, raving madness.

Instead she glared at the man who was regarding her as though she were a bug pinned beneath a microscope. An apt description considering she was tied so tightly to the pole she could barely even blink.

"Such power," he purred in an oddly mesmeriz-

Ing tone. "She hums with it. It seems almost a pity to have her slain."

Slain? Abby groaned through the rag stuffed in her mouth. She didn't think she was tied up for a surprise birthday party, but slain?

Damn Selena and those witches. She was obviously here to be served up like a Thanksgiving turkey for the Prince.

Hurry, Dante, she silently willed. Please, God, hurry.

Another face suddenly popped into view. This one belonged to a woman not much older than Abby with a pale, pointed face and a dark cloud of hair. She might have been attractive if it hadn't been for the unnatural glitter in her brown eyes,