When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1)(82)



"No." He covered her hand with his own. His expression was grim. "Not until you're safe."

"She didn't sound like she's overly eager to rid me of the Phoenix."

"If you convince her that you won't be jerked around like a puppet on a string, she will be forced to find a new Chalice. The coven considers the Phoenix as their own, and they won't lose control. Even if it means endangering the spirit."

'You mean just be myself?"

The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. "Exactly."

"And what of you?"

His expression became shuttered. "I can take care of myself."

Abby swallowed a sigh. It was his me-Neanderthal-and-I'll-be-stupid-if-I-want expression.

Vampires.

"Not if they leash you to a new Chalice. You will be at their mercy."

His shoulder lifted. "I am already at their mercy. It won't change much."

Her brows snapped together. "I want you freed."

"One thing at a time, lover." His hand lifted to cup her cheek. "First we must make sure Edra understands you are serious about ridding yourself of the Phoenix. I had hoped she would have already chosen another Chalice and would be eager to assist us. As it is…"

"What?"

His fangs snapped together. "She may look old and fragile, but she wields magic like a gladiator wields a sword, and she doesn't care who gets hurt when she takes a swing. We must be careful to convince her to release you without making her fear you might be an enemy."

"So you want me to stand up to the witch but not stand up to the point that she wants my head in the stewpot."

"Something like that."

She wrinkled her nose. "You don't ask much."

His expression was somber. "This is important, lover."

"I know." With a sigh she leaned against his solid body and snuggled close as his arms wrapped about her.

In the distance she could feel the prickling tension of a brewing spell and could smell the herbs and nastier ingredients that lay thick in the air. The thick mess crawled over her skin.

But being held tightly in Dante's arms kept the hovering darkness at bay.

How was that for an oxymoron?

Abby didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually Dante was gently tugging her to the center of the room and turning to regard the woman who entered the doorway carrying a silver tray.

Abby blinked in shock as the stranger settled the tray on a low table and straightened with a flip of her blond hair.

Good Lord, she looked like she should be flunking algebra class and flirting with the football quarterback, not playing servant to a pack of witches.

Of course, age was not necessarily an indication of maturity, she reminded herself wryly. By the time she was eighteen, Abby had seen more of life than most women twice her age.

Pressing her hands together, the girl kept her gaze glued to Abby's face. It took a moment for Abby to realize that Dante was probably the first vampire the girl had ever encountered.

Or at least the first vampire she knew was a vampire.

"The mistress requested that I bring you refreshments," she at last managed to stammer.

In spite of herself, Abby felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. Whatever her reason for joining with the witches, it was clear she was not happy. It was etched in the tension of her too-thin body.

"Thank you," Abby said softly. "It was very kind of you."

Something that might have been surprise flickered through the dark eyes before she was offering a tentative smile and turning toward the door.

Before Abby even realized what was happening, Dante was suddenly standing before the girl. Abby's lips parted to protest. The last thing they needed was a newbie witch having hysterics in the drawing room.

Astonishingly, however, the woman didn't scream in horror. She didn't even squeak.

Instead her features became slack and her eyes glazed as if she had taken a blow to the head.

"Do you not want to stay?" Dante breathed so softly that Abby barely heard his words.

"I… there is much to be done… I must…" the girl began to stutter.

Dante pointed a hand at a nearby chair. "Sit."

With jerky motions, she sat.

Abby caught her breath and stepped forward. "Dante? What did you do?"

He crouched before the chair, his gaze never leaving the witch. "She is young and not yet trained to avoid being enthralled."

'What does that mean?"

"For the moment she is in my power."

Abby studied the woman, who was pleasantly lost in her catatonic state, as a cold chill inched down her spine.

"Holy crap."

"I did tell you that I could do this."

She swallowed heavily. "Knowing you can do it and actually seeing it done are two entirely different things."

"And now you are afraid?"

She took a long moment before giving a shake of her head. She could sense the truth written on his heart.

"No."

"Good." His lips curled into a wicked smile. "I would never enthrall you, lover. I don't want a mindless toy; I want you. No matter how stubborn or ill-tempered you can be at times."

She couldn't halt her own smile. "You always say the nicest things."

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