Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)

Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6) Page 35

“I am.”

“Is my sister lurking nearby?”

“She is downstairs, anxiously waiting for an opportunity to speak with you.” With unnerving speed he was standing directly in front of her, his nose flaring as if he were testing her scent. “I asked if I could have a few minutes alone with you first.”

Harley stepped back, her hackles stirring at his sudden intrusion into her personal space.

“Watch it, vampire. You might be some sort of relation in our twisted family tree, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass.”

He folded his arms over his massive chest, not particularly terrified by her threat.

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“What questions?”

He grimaced, looking oddly uncomfortable. “There is no delicate means of approaching this.”

“You’ve already had me drugged and kidnapped,” she dryly pointed out. “There’s no need to pretend good manners at this late stage.”

“Very well. Why do you carry Salvatore’s scent?”

She choked at the blunt question. Surely there had to be some etiquette against random sniffing?

“I can’t imagine how that’s any of your business.”

“I’m not trying to intrude into your privacy, Harley.”

“No?” Her humorless laugh echoed through the cavernous room that had grown cold with the vampire’s pulsing power. “God only knows what you would ask if you were trying to intrude. What does it matter to you what I smell like?”

“Because it has been countless centuries since a werewolf has mated.” He towered over her; big, dark, and deadly. “You’ll have to forgive me if I wonder if this is a miracle or a hoax.”

Her brows snapped together. “Why would I try to hoax you?”

“Not you,” he gently corrected. “My suspicion is that someone or something is attempting to deceive Salvatore.”

She froze, an unpleasant fear settling in the pit of her stomach.

When Salvatore had alleged she was his mate, she had been shocked out of her mind. After all, great sex was one thing, but an eternal commitment was a little more than she wanted hanging over her head.

So why did the thought that Salvatore’s bond might be no more than a scam on the King of Weres make her blood run cold?

Gritting her teeth, Harley pretended that an empty ache hadn’t bloomed in the center of her heart, and concentrated on the only thing that was important.

Saving Salvatore from his own stupidity.

“Briggs,” she muttered.

Styx nodded. “Santiago mentioned the Were. Tell me what you know of him.”

Harley ignored her instinctive bristling at his sharp command and revealed the bits and scraps she’d picked up of the perverted pureblood.

Styx listened in silence, his expression settling into grim lines that oddly reminded her of Salvatore.

Or perhaps not so oddly.

They were both leaders who carried the weight of their people on their shoulders.

The heavy sense of responsibility left its mark.

“Only a demon lord should have the power to resurrect a dead Were.”

“Demon lord?” She grimaced. “I’m afraid to ask.”

Without warning, the ancient vampire turned to pace across the marble floor, his movements surprisingly fluid for such a large beast.

“They are disciples of the dark prince, although few have shown an interest in this world since humans began to crawl from their caves.” His lips curled with disdain. Obviously the vampire wasn’t a big fan of demon lords. “And the few who continued to dabble among us lesser creatures were blocked entirely when the Phoenix was called into the Chalice.”

“Phoenix? Chalice?” She shook her head. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“The Phoenix is the essence of a goddess who was brought into this world over three hundred years ago by a coven of witches.” His eyes flashed with a terrifying emotion. “Her presence blocks the dark prince and his minions from entering this dimension.”

Harley took a wary step to the side as his pacing brought him within striking distance.

“That seems like a good thing. What am I missing?”

“The essence is held in a human female who becomes the Chalice of the goddess.”

“A human?” She blinked in confusion. “Aren’t they a little fragile for such a task?”

“The human is protected by the goddess.” His humorless smile revealed a set of kickass fangs. “Although the same coven who conjured the goddess weren’t content. They decided they needed a guardian who would never fail the Chalice, so they bound a vampire to her soul.”

“Ah.” She grimaced. “I assume the vampire didn’t jump to the head of the line to volunteer?”

“Not at the time, although he’s become reconciled to his position now that Abby is the new Chalice.” Styx’s expression eased. “They’ve recently mated.”

Harley didn’t fully understand the whole goddess and Chalice thing, but she did grasp the most pertinent fact.

“If Abby’s carrying this Goddess, then Briggs can’t be hooked up with a demon lord, right?”

“I never underestimate a determined demon lord. They have the means to use others to accomplish their goals, and are always swift to take advantage of any weakness.” Styx came to an abrupt halt, the cool brush of his power making her shiver. “I need to speak with Abby.”

“You think she’s falling down on the job?”

He laughed with genuine amusement. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to point it out. Abby has the power to toast demons.”

“Literally toast them?”

“Literally.”

Harley made a mental note to avoid the woman.

“Why do you want to speak with her?”

“I hope she can convince me that my fears are a figment of my imagination.”

Harley’s heart plummeted and her mouth went dry at the dark edge of concern in his voice. What the hell would scare the King of Vampires?

“Are demon lords so dangerous?”

“There are many who believe they are our ultimate creators. Which means they could also be our ultimate destroyers.”

Without thought, Harley was charging to the door. Crap. Crap. Crap. This was so much worse than a demented Were who refused to stay dead.

“I have to warn Salvatore.”

She heard the tiny tinkle of the bronzed medallions threaded through Styx’s braid, but she couldn’t track his movement until he was standing directly in front of her, blocking her path to the door.

“Hold on, Harley.” He grabbed her arms as she attempted to dart around him. “This is nothing more than idle speculation. Jumping to conclusions is worse than doing nothing.”

She struggled to free herself from his grasp, her temper exploding.

“You wouldn’t be waffling if it was one of your precious vampires in danger,” she gritted. “You would be charging to the rescue.”

A raven brow flicked upward. “I am not a vampire who waffles. I am attempting to discover who or what is threatening Salvatore, and if it poses a danger to other demons.”

“Fine. You do whatever it is you have to do and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Where do you intend to go?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.” He flashed a hint of fang. More out of annoyance than intimidation. Or at least, Harley hoped so. “Salvatore demanded my promise that I would keep you safe. I intend to honor my vow.”

“It’s not his call. Or yours.” She jutted her chin. She’d allowed fear to keep her prisoner for thirty years. She was done hiding from the world. Even if that world was terrifyingly dangerous. “No man’s going to tell me what I can or can’t do. Not anymore.”

His expression tightened, but before he could say anything truly stupid, the door to the bedroom was thrown open and a slender replica of herself walked in.

No, not a precise replica, Harley realized, her gaze skimming over the blond hair that was cut short and spiky and the delicate face that was just a trace more heart-shaped, with eyes that were more green than hazel.

Still, the resemblance was stunning.

Harley watched her sister approach, her stomach twisting with an odd combination of emotions.

What the hell was she supposed to feel?

Joy? Disbelief? Regret?

A raging identity crisis?

With a shake of her head, she decided that she would figure out what to feel later. For now all that mattered was getting out of the marble mausoleum and finding Salvatore.

Clearly unafraid of the towering predator who could easily rip out her throat or simply squash her with one of his massive fists, Darcy crossed to stab her mate with a stern gaze.

“Styx, I wish to speak with my sister.”

He dipped his head in instant agreement. “Very well, my love.”

“Alone.”

The vampire’s starkly beautiful features tightened, but astonishingly, he headed obediently toward the door.