Darkness Everlasting

Page 30


"I also brought you some food." CIA dug through the bag to reveal a box of granola bars.


"Thanks."


"Oh ... I almost forgot. You remember that gorgeous mobster who came in the night you disappeared?"


Darcy grimaced. Did she remember? It was etched into her brain with full Technicolor detail.


"He's pretty tough to forget."


"No doubt." CIA heaved a deep sigh. "What a yummy bit of eye candy."


"What about him?"


"He came back a night or two ago and left this for you," CIA said as she straightened and pressed the small object into her hand.


"He left a cell phone?"


"Yeah, he said that if you came back that you might want to give him a call on it." A hint of envy entered Gina's gaze. "Pretty romantic, if you ask me."


Darcy's stomach clenched. Despite the fact that she had left Styx with every intention of seeking out the werewolf, she hadn't forgotten Salvatore's strange, possessive manner or the numerous pictures that Levet had discovered in his lair.


What sort of man went around snapping photographs of strange women?


Weirdos, that's who.


"Only if you're interested in the psychotic stalker sort of guy," she muttered.


"Hey, if you don't want him I'll gladly take him off your hands," CIA groused.


"Trust me, CIA, you don't want any part of this man."


"Of course not." The woman rolled her eyes. "What would I do with a drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man who, for a miracle, isn't gay?"


Damn. The last thing Darcy wanted was for her one friend to become entangled with the ruthless demons who now invaded her life. Unfortunately, there was no way to truly warn her of the dangers. Not without CIA assuming that she was completely nuts.


"Would you believe he's a wolf in an Armani suit?" she hedged.


CIA frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"


"Just stay away from him. He's . . . dangerous."


"Oh my God." CIA raised a hand to her mouth. "He's a drug lord, isn't he?"


Well, it was as good a lie as any, Darcy decided. "Something like that."


Typical." CIA made a disgusted noise. "It's just like my grandmother always says."


"What does she say?"


"If something seems too good to be true . . ."


Darcy gave a humorless laugh. "You're preaching to the choir, sister," she muttered, her thoughts painfully turning to Styx and his ruthless manipulation of her memories. Her fingers curled tightly around the phone in her hand. "I have to go."


"Where are you going?" CIA demanded.


"I'm not really sure." She managed a stiff smile. "Thank you, CIA, and please promise me you'll be careful."


"Me?" The woman deliberately glanced around the disaster of a building. "I'm not the one playing hide-and-seek in a nasty warehouse."


"Just promise me, please," Darcy insisted. She would never forgive herself if CIA was harmed.


"Sure, whatever. I'll be careful."


With a shrug the woman turned and walked out the door. Within moments Darcy could hear the sound of a car starting and roaring out of the parking lot.


Alone, she sucked in a deep breath and stared at the phone with a large lump of fear lodged in the pit of her stomach.


This was it.


Flipping open the phone, she studied the one number that was listed under contacts.


She had the means she needed to contact Salvatore.


Now all she needed was the nerve to do it.


Salvatore was in his office studying the large stack of reports that had recently arrived from Italy.


It would no doubt shock the entire demon world to learn that Salvatore possessed a staff of the most talented scientists and doctors in the world. They liked to dismiss Weres as savage dogs without intelligence or sophistication. How else could they justify keeping the werewolves imprisoned and oppressed?


Salvatore was quite happy to keep them in the dark. Eventually they would learn just how wrong their assumptions were, but not until the last of his plans fell into place.


And for that he needed Darcy Smith.


The image of her fragile features had barely formed in his mind when, with a haunting sense of destiny, his cell phone broke the thick silence.


Frowning at the interruption, Salvatore automatically checked to see who would be bothering him at such an hour. His heart came to a halt as he recognized the number of his second cell phone.


The one he had left for Darcy.


After flipping the phone open, he pressed it to his ear even as he was hurrying from the room and motioning for Hess, who had been standing guard at the door.


"Cara?" he said in a soothing tone. There was silence at the other end although his enhanced hearing could easily pick up Darcy's ragged breath. "I can feel you there. Speak to me, Darcy."


"I... want to meet," she at last rasped.


Salvatore leaped down the stairs and then another set as his entire body hummed with electric excitement. He could sense the worried wariness in Darcy's voice, but there was something else there as well. A hint of defiance.


Whatever her fear, she was determined to confront him.


Which could only mean the gargoyle had revealed the picture that Salvatore had planted for him to find.


"It is what I want as well, cara, although you will have to forgive me if I prefer our encounter to take place somewhere other than a vampire lair." Salvatore took the last of the stairs and moved across the crumbling lobby. "You are welcome to join me at my own humble home. It may not be as elegant, but I can promise that you will be a most honored guest."


"No. I want to meet somewhere public. Somewhere that I'll feel safe."


He wasn't bothered by her sharp tone. She was an intelligent woman. It was only natural for her to be suspicious.


After leaving the building, Salvatore smoothly crossed to the waiting Humvee and slid into the passenger seat. Hess was just as quick as he took his place behind the wheel and turned over the engine.


"How many times must I assure you that I would never hurt you, cara?" Salvatore demanded, flicking on the GPS system. A smile touched his lips as the tracking system that he had installed in Darcy's cell phone flicked to life. She was a good distance away in an abandoned warehouse west of the city, but she was well away from the protection of the vampires. "You are the most important thing in this world to me."


He sensed her disbelief. And the fragile fear that clutched her. She felt vulnerable, and the least hint of threat would send her running.


"Will you meet me someplace public or not?" she demanded.


"I will meet you anywhere you desire," he assured her softly.


"And I want your promise that you'll come alone."


Salvatore was slammed against the passenger door as Hess raced through the empty streets at a hair-raising speed.


"Now, cara, you must be reasonable. For all I know this is a trap being set by your vampire. I'm not entirely stupid."


"Neither am I. There's no way I'm going to let myself be surrounded by a pack of werewolves."


"Then we must find a compromise. I am willing to do whatever is necessary—"


Without warning his soothing words were interrupted as she gave a low growl.


"You son of a bitch."


Salvatore frowned. "As a matter of fact I am, but what has you so angry?"


"You're already here, aren't you? You were tracking me."


His blood ran cold. Which was saying something for a werewolf.


His blood was usually just short of an inferno.


"Someone is there?"


"You followed me into town, or you've put something into the phone. Dammit, Styx was right. You can't be trusted."


"Darcy, you must listen to me." His voice was thick with urgency. "Whoever is in the warehouse with you, it's not me, or any of my pack."


"Oh yeah? Then how did you know I'm in a warehouse, Salvatore?" she demanded. "Admit it, you've tracked me."


Salvatore gave a low snarl. For the first time in his existence he struggled not to shift against his will.


If anything happened to Darcy ...


"Cazzo. Si, the phone is being monitored by my pack, but we are still blocks away," he confessed, silently attempting to judge how long it would take to reach the warehouse. "I do not know who is in the building with you, but you are in danger."


"Why should I believe you?" She sucked in a gasp as a distant howl echoed in the background. "Shit."


Salvatore's every instinct shivered in warning. He recognized that howl.


It could only belong to a werewolf.


"Listen to me, cara. You must get out of there. Get out of there now."


Her breath rasped over the phone. "This is starting to feel like a really bad slash-and-trash movie."


Salvatore motioned Hess to even greater speed. "What?"


"You know, when the police call to tell the babysitter that the threatening calls are coming from inside the house?"

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