When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1)(81)

"Impossible," Edra snapped. "The Phoenix has already taken possession of her body."

"Then bloody well find another body," he growled.

Her gnarled hand lifted. "Careful, beast."

Violence hung in the air, and with a nervous motion, Abby was out of the chair.

"Look, I understand your concern, but there's no way I can be your… Chalice," she muttered in an obvious attempt to halt bloodshed. "I didn't ask for this, I was never trained, and quite frankly I'm sick of scary things trying to kill me."

Edra sent her a fleeting gaze, her attention remaining on Dante. 'You're with us now. We will see to your training as well as keep you safe."

"As you did Selena?" Dante mocked.

"Selena brought on her own demise."

"How?"

"It is not your place to question what occurs among the coven," Edra snapped.

"But it's mine," Abby intruded again. "And I want to know what happened to Selena."

"We shall discuss Selena later."

Dante hid a smile at the imperious command in the witch's voice. It was custom-designed to set Abby's teeth on edge.

He was not disappointed as his mate narrowed her gaze and mentally dug in her heels.

"No. I want to know how she died."

Edra stiffened. The old witch was accustomed to commanding her underlings with an iron fist. Even Selena had grudgingly conceded to her authority.

Surprisingly, however, something that might have been wariness flickered over the lined face as the witch studied the younger woman.

"She attempted a spell well beyond her capabilities," she abruptly confessed.

"What sort of spell?" Abby pressed. "What did it do?"

"It… protected her from demons."

She was lying.

The knowledge hung thick in the air.

"I thought the Phoenix could protect itself," Abby challenged.

"Against most enemies."

"Did she fear being attacked?"

"It is always a fear." The lined face hardened with hatred. 'The darkness hovers and awaits the opportunity to regain what it has lost. There are evil forces in the world that will halt at nothing to destroy us."

"Yeah, I've been introduced to a few of them," Abby muttered. "Which is why I want this… this thing out of me and into someone who knows what they're doing."

There was a tense pause before the witch reached out to pat Abby's arm in an awkward motion.

"We will consider what is best to be done, but first you will desire a short rest I can sense your weariness."

The woman turned and headed for the door before Abby could argue. Dante moved faster.

In the blink of an eye, he was standing in the doorway, his fangs exposed.

"Abby will need her herbs."

Edra gave a blink of shock at his sudden appearance before an expression of regal disdain settled on her thin face.

"Of course."

"And I will need blood."

The disdain deepened. "It will be attended to."

Dante waited a long beat before stepping aside and allowing the witch to leave the room.

He hoped that she sensed just how fiercely he desired to kill her on the spot.

Chapter 23

Abby felt like a bottle of champagne that had been shaken until it threatened to burst.

She didn't know her nerves could be wound so tightly. Or that she could feel so cold in a room that was smothering.

Worse, she didn't know if it was being in the lair of the witches that was making her so unnerved or the sight of her lover standing in the doorway.

In the shadows, he might have been carved from the purest marble. There was no expression on the alabaster features. No flicker of life in the flat silver eyes. Not a muscle twitched in the tall, elegant body.

He might have been a beautiful mannequin if not for the fangs that glittered in the candlelight.

She at last cleared her throat. "Dante?"

There was not a flicker of an eyelash. "Vfes?"

'You're looking a bit fangy. Are you all right?"

There was a long moment before a ripple raced through him and he slowly turned to meet her gaze.

"I don't like being here."

"Neither do I," she muttered, wrapping her arms about her waist. "It's smothering in here but I'm freezing. It doesn't make any sense."

His brows lowered. "Magic?"

Abby considered. She was hardly an expert. Hell, she wasn't even an amateur. More like a bumbling buffoon.

Still, she could feel something in the air. A sense of foreboding that tingled over her skin and clutched at her stomach.

"More like magic waiting to happen," she attempted to explain the odd sensation. "It's like an approaching thunderstorm. You can feel the electricity in the air before it ever hits."

"So what are they brewing?"

She shivered as she moved to stand directly before Dante. She had hoped that meeting the witches would ease her vague fears. Instead the urge to flee was more overwhelming than ever.

There was something… foul in the air.

A hint of rotting disease just below the surface.

"I don't know." She laid her hand on his arm. "Maybe we should just go, Dante."