Darkness Everlasting

Avoid bloodshed? Not damn likely.



"He offered an insult that cannot be ignored."



Viper shrugged. "As long as you keep Darcy well guarded what does it matter if the man plots to steal her? Besides, would it not be best to avoid any direct confrontations until you have them back on their hunting grounds?"



Styx swallowed an angry curse. His old friend was treading on dangerous ground. What he did or did not do with Darcy was no one's concern but his own.



"There will be no ... negotiations until I have discovered what he wants of her," he rasped.



There was a startled pause before Viper tilted back his head to chuckle with seeming delight.



"I see."



"What?" Styx moved back up the alley to stab the chortling vampire with an impatient glare. "What is so amusing?"



"You."



"Me?" Styx clenched his hands with an impotent annoyance. He was many things. Arrogant, commanding, fiercely lethal. But he had never, ever been amusing. At the point of reminding his companion that it was a dangerous habit to laugh at his leader, Styx was suddenly distracted by an unexpected scent. "Hold on, Viper, something approaches."



Viper thrust aside his lingering amusement at his friend's obvious befuddlement. He would have plenty of time later to enjoy watching Styx brought firmly to his knees. For now, he was far more interested in the unmistakable stench of approaching curs.



"They're trying to surround us," he muttered, pulling out the two small daggers he had tucked into his jacket before leaving his club.



Weapons—never leave home without them.



A motto that had kept him alive for a long time.



Styx tilted back his head to sniff the air. "Three from the south and two from the north."



Viper grinned in anticipation. His mate, Shay, took a very dim view of him engaging in recreational battles. Like many women, she simply didn't have a taste for violence and there was always a lecture waiting him when he happened to come home with a few bloody gashes.



But tonight she couldn't possibly expect him to stand aside and allow his master to become a midnight snack for curs.



"Good." He twirled the daggers in his hands. "You take the north, I'll take the south."



Styx lifted an eyebrow. "They're after me. I'll take the south."



"Flip you for it?"



"Just take the north," Styx commanded, turning his back to Viper so they each faced one end of the alley.



"Aren't you supposed to be a little more democratic? You are, after all, an American now," Viper demanded, his gaze restlessly searching the thick shadows.



"I'm a vampire, and until someone takes my place, my word is law."



Well, it was hard to argue the arrogant claim.



His word was law.



And since it had been Viper who had killed the old leader to put Styx on the throne, he couldn't really complain now.



"Fine, have it your way."



"I always do," Styx smoothly claimed.



Viper couldn't argue that either.



The chilled breeze swirled through the alley and Viper tightened his grip on his daggers. The curs were near. Very near.



There was the faintest sound of claws scraping against the pavement, and then with a howl the curs charged into the alley at full force.



They had already shifted, but even in wolf form they were as large as ponies and possessed inhuman strength. They were also as vicious as hell.



With red eyes glowing in the dark they lunged toward Viper, indifferent to the knowledge that they were severely outmatched. It would take more than five curs to best two vampires. Especially when both of those vampires happened to be clan chiefs.



Spreading his feet, Viper crouched low. A cur would always go for the throat first. It was as predictable as the sun rising.



Hair-raising howls split the air as the curs rushed to their death. Viper waited until he could feel the hot breath on his face before thrusting out his arms and burying the daggers deep into the wide chests.



One dagger struck true, sinking into the heart of the charging cur, making him crumble at Viper's feet. The other dagger merely nicked the heart, and with a snarl the beast opened his maw to close about Viper's throat.



"Bloody hell, you stink," Viper rasped as he pulled back his arm to backhand the cur.



There was a startled squeal as the creature sailed through the air and hit the brick building with a sickening thud. There was a brief pause before the animal was on his feet and lumbering forward once again. In his wolf form the man seemed unaware that he was heavily bleeding from the dagger still lodged in his chest.



Viper again waited until the cur was nearly upon him before he struck out with his foot. There was a crunch as the bone and cartilage of the cur's muzzle was smashed at the blow, but maddened by the instinct to kill and the scent of his own blood, the cur continued to struggle forward.



Teeth as sharp as razors snapped toward Viper's leg and he was forced to dance backward. He bumped into Styx, but neither turned as they both concentrated on their own battles.



Where was animal control when you needed them? he ruefully wondered, dodging the claws that swiped toward his throat.



The large paw made another swipe at Viper, and bending low he dodged toward the cur and grasped the hilt of tile dagger. Yanking it from the thick fur, he was startled to feel claws dig into his back. Shit. He had expected the beast to go for his throat. A stupid mistake.



The wounds were not deep and would soon heal, but not before Shay had a chance to rake him over the coals for being injured.



Annoyed that he had allowed the Were to mark him, Viper gripped the handle of the dagger and plunged it back into the broad chest.



This time his aim was true and the silver blade sank deep into the cur's heart.



The cur howled in pain as he belatedly tried to back away.



Viper straightened as he watched the Were crawl behind a nearby Dumpster. He didn't bother to follow. The cur could not survive, and he was not so vicious as to need to watch him die.



Besides, he wanted to make sure that Styx had finished off his share.



Turning to see if his companion needed some assistance, Viper was distracted by the faint sound of footsteps above them.



He glanced toward the roof of the decaying hotel beside them, expecting to see a cur hoping to catch them unaware. What he saw instead chilled his dead heart



"Styx!" he shouted the warning as he watched the shadowed form above straighten and point a crossbow directly at his friend's heart.



Viper reached to push Styx to the side as the silver arrow streaked through the night. He was fast, but although he managed to move Styx far enough to prevent a lethal blow, the arrow still managed to pierce his chest with a ghastly thud.



The tall vampire glanced down at the wound, his expression tight with pain. Then, with a shuddering groan he fell forward, nearly reaching the ground before Viper scooped him into his arms and started running from the alley.



Bloody freaking hell.



* * *



Darcy had unpacked her bags, cleaned the kitchen, paced her room and was settling her plants in the beautiful solarium as she absently listened to Levet's chatter when she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway.



It shouldn't have caught her attention considering the house was literally filled with people. She had counted at least a half dozen different guards in the short time she had been held captive.



But they were vampires.



If she had learned nothing else, it was that there could be a hundred of them lurking in the shadows and never make so much as a squeak. Not the most comforting of thoughts.



Leaving Levet to finish watering the wilted plants, Darcy cautiously entered the hallway and moved toward an open door that had been disguised by the dark walnut paneling.



She peered into the darkness, not surprised to discover a narrow staircase that led deep into the ground. It seemed only natural that creatures who feared the sun would have a love for places that it couldn't reach.



There was another soft scuffle coming from below and, sucking in a deep breath, she was moving down the steps before she could consider the thousands of reasons it was a bad idea.



The scent of rich, black earth surrounded her as she reached the wide tunnel. It was a soothing scent despite the heavy darkness, and she paused to get her bearings.



Several smaller tunnels ran from the main passageway. She assumed that they led to hidden lairs, or perhaps they were for quick escapes.



Escape.



Something to keep in mind, she silently acknowledged.



But not tonight.



Not with the cloaked guard watching her as he stood before the entrance to what seemed to be a small room. And not before she discovered what had happened to create the unmistakable tension filling the air.



Crossing the short distance, she came to a halt directly before the motionless vampire.



"What is it?" she demanded. "What has happened?"



With a motion too swift for a mere mortal to follow, the guard had pushed back his cowl, and Darcy took a swift step backward. The dark eyes held a strange glow and there was no mistaking the fangs that were fully extended.



Oh yeah, something was wrong.



"The master has been injured," he said, his voice harsh.



"Injured?" A sharp pain clutched at her heart, and the urge that had plagued her for the past two hours to see Styx became a fierce necessity. "Is it bad?"