When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1)(78)

Even in the shadows it was easy to spot the peeling paint and sagging porch. If Norman Bates needed a vacation home, she had just found if for him. Abby gave a shake of her head. Holy freaking cow. The only surprise would be if there wasn't a dead mother hidden in the bedroom and a homicidal maniac prowling the grounds.

"Yow," she breathed. "That's… spooky."

Dante was in full predator mode. With uncanny ease, he melted into the shadows and held himself motionless. There was none of her fidgeting, no muttered complaints of the hedge poking into his back. Hell, there wasn't even any tedious breathing to stir the air.

If she wasn't vibrantly aware of the tension coiled within him, she might have thought he had been turned to stone.

Shifting slightly, she closely studied the alabaster features that were almost unrecognizable. This was not the tender lover or roguish pirate. This was the warrior vampire who still sent a tingle of unease down her spine.

Feeling her gaze, he turned to stab her with his silver gaze.

"Do you sense anything?"

'Yes." She absently rubbed her arms. The prickles racing over her skin had started the moment she had stepped onto the grounds of the house. "I just don't know what it is."

'Tell me." His voice was a whisper of velvet.

"It's like I can almost hear whispers in the back of my mind. I can't make out the words, but I know they're there."

'The witches?"

"That would be my guess." Her breath caught as the white fangs ran out and his hands curled to claws. The demon was in full force. "What was that?"

"What?"

"Did you just growl?"

"I don't like this." His gaze returned to the house, his tone flat. "It's too quiet."

"Hardly surprising they might want to keep a low profile after being attacked by the wizard. They're not likely to be having a party."

"And yet they have no spells to guard the house."

"WhatoftheShalott?"

He sniffed the air. "It must be within. Or dead."

Abby shivered. Or dead…

Those weren't exactly words to bolster a girl's confidence.

She licked her dry lips.

"Then I suppose there's nothing to stop us, right?"

He slowly turned back to her, his expression grim. 'There is one thing."

Her head dropped into her hands as she heaved out a rasping sigh. "I knew it. I just knew it. What is this thing?"

"This is a private home."

"And?"

"And I can't enter without an invitation."

She jerked her head up. 'You're kidding me?"

"No."

'You don't live in a crypt and you can't turn into a bat, but you have to have an invitation to enter a house?" Abby hissed.

A reluctant amusement softened the flat eyes. 'You wanted me to be vampirish."

"Not when it's inconvenient."

"Sorry."

She wrinkled her nose, realizing just how ridiculous she was being. "No, this is for the best," she forced herself to say. "Until we know what's going to happen, I would rather you stay away from the witches."

He didn't so much as flick an eyelash, but Abby sensed his flare of anger. Great, just great She had managed to rub against his vampire pride. A certain means to ensure he would bull his way headfirst into the nearest danger.

Sometimes her stupidity amazed even herself.

'You want me to hide in the bushes?"

"Dante, it only makes sense to split up," she attempted to undue her unwitting damage. "I need you to be able to rescue me if I need help."

"I'm not letting you go in there alone."

She reached out to touch his arm. It was as cold and unyielding as granite.

"We don't have much choice."

His fangs flashed in the moonlight. Not the most reassuring of sights.

"The witches know you're here. They'll eventually come out to find you."

That wasn't reassuring either.

Especially if Dante was forced to retreat before the witches decided to make an appearance. She would rather go in now and know she had backup.

"We don't have that long. Dawn will be coming soon."

'Then we'll come back tomorrow night."

"Dante. I think—"

With a blurring speed, Dante had pinned her to his chest, the air shimmering and snapping about him.

"Dammit, Abby, I can't let you go in there," he rasped.

If she had a lick of sense, she would have been terrified. Mate or not, this man could crush her without effort. Or worse, rip out her throat.

But it was annoyance that stiffened her spine and brought a frown to her brow.

"I promise I won't take any risks. I will meet with the witches and—"

"No."

"Listen, Mr. Macho, I make my own decisions."

The arrogant nose flared. "Not on this."

Her teeth snapped together. "This argument is starting to get old, Dante. I'm not a child. To be honest, I don't think I was ever a child. I won't be dictated to, not by you or anyone else."

He studied her flushed features with a steady gaze. "If you die, I die," he said simply.