When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1)

When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1) Page 48
  • Prev Chapter
  • Background
    Font family
    Font size
    Line hieght
    Full frame
    No line breaks
  • Next Chapter

When Darkness Comes (Guardians of Eternity #1) Page 48

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."

"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."

Slowly he turned his attention back to the silent girl in the chair.

'Tell me your name," he demanded. His tone was low and flowing. A golden voice that seemed to shimmer in the air.

The girl leaned forward with an eager need to please the man holding her so easily captive.

"Kristy."

"Kristy, how long have you been with the coven?"

"Not long." Her brow wrinkled as if she feared she might disappoint the vampire. "Just a few weeks."

Dante's gaze remained firmly locked with the witch. "You know of the Phoenix?"

"Of course. It is the reason the coven exists. It is the salvation of us all."

Dante arched a brow. "Salvation?"

A fervent glow touched the young face. "With the beloved Goddess, we will bring an end to the darkness. The light will shine for an eternity."

Abby crept closer. She didn't understand what the girl was babbling about. Eternal light, banish the darkness, yaddayadda.

But she did sense Dante's sudden tension. And that was enough to send up the proverbial red flag.

Ignoring Abby's approach, Dante leaned until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the witch.

"How will you bring an end to the darkness?"

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter