Embrace The Darkness

A cold chill clutched at Viper. "Life? Life for who?"



"Enough, Viper." At last Styx turned back, his expression grim. "I have said all that I intend to."



There was no mistaking the finality in his tone and Viper bit back his frustration. At the moment he was in no position to make demands or enforce his will.



He had every confidence that would change. And when it did... well, he would have his pound of flesh. Quite literally.



Forced to change his tactics he turned his attention to the brief flare of weakness he had noticed earlier.



"I never did understand why you would pledge yourself to the Anasso," he said in offhand tones, as if he were merely passing the time. "You were always so fiercely independent."



Styx gave a shrug. "I discovered as the years and then centuries passed that I needed more than a mere existence to satisfy me."



"It was hardly a mere existence," Viper pointed out. "Not only were you a feared warrior but you were once the chief of the largest clan of vampires ever gathered. A feat envied by many."



The dark eyes abruptly flashed with anger.



Ridiculously, Viper discovered himself pleased by the rare display of emotion. It proved that something of the Styx he had known and loved still existed.



"Oh, yes, envied so much that every fool with dreams of glory arrived upon my doorstep to lay down a challenge," he said with an edge of bitterness. "There was rarely a year that passed that I was not forced into battle."



"The cost of leadership," Viper retorted. "It was never meant to be easy."



"I do not mind a difficult path, indeed, I welcome it. But I no longer desire a bloody one. I grew weary of killing brethren."



Viper felt a grudging flare of sympathy. He better than anyone understood the regret of having blood on his hands. A helluva lot of blood. Still, Styx had once been an outsider like himself. A vampire without clan and open prey until he had grown strong enough to defend himself. How could he put himself back at the mercy of another?



"As do I. But that still does not explain why you have chosen to bind yourself to another."



"We all serve the Anasso, He is the master of all."



Viper gave a shake of his head. "Not as his personal guard. You have sold your soul."



"No." The word was barely a whisper. "I am attempting to reclaim it."



"Your soul?" Viper demanded with a frown,



"Call it what you will." Styx gave an impatient wave of his hand. "A meaning to life. A sense of purpose."



Viper regarded his friend for a long moment. The last thing he had expected was a debate on philosophy while he was being held prisoner. Of course, it shouldn't have been. This was Styx, after all.



"You sound remarkably human." he at last drawled. "Aren't they the ones always scrambling to discover a fate beyond themselves?"



"Are they wrong?" Styx countered. "Should we not all strive to create a legacy that will enrich our brethren?"



Viper gave a pointed glance toward the silver shackles that were burning ever deeper into his flesh.



"And you believe that is what you are doing? Enriching our brethren?"



The older vampire possessed the decency to grimace although his voice remained smooth.



"You seem to forget that it was the Anasso who led the battle to civilize our clans. It was his strength that allowed us to defeat those who wished to maintain the ancient ways. And his presence that keeps anarchy from returning. I would think you, Viper, of all people, would hold that a worthy goal."



Viper hadn't forgotten the past. Or the brutal, bloody battled, that had been waged. Or even the fact that it had been the Anasso who had led the charge. No doubt without his effort they would still be living as savages. He had also not forgotten that those wars had killed those ancients who had stood above the Anasso, leaving him the eldest and the most powerful of all.



"And so the end justifies any means, eh Styx?"



"Do you mock me, Viper?"



A wry smile touched Viper's lips. "No, in fact I understand. I have found satisfaction as a chief, but as you say, there is more to life than power. It is only now that I have found the purpose in my life that you seek."



Styx regarded him curiously. "And what is that?"



"Shay," he retorted simply. "And no matter what your dire predictions I will do whatever I must to keep her safe." He leaned forward to bare his fangs. "I will condemn the entire race of vampires to hell if I have to."



Styx clenched his hand around the tiny medallion. "You had better hope you come to your senses and call for the Shalott, Viper, or you might just have accomplished that."



Not surprisingly, that brought a short end to the conversation.



The inner caves looked more like the chambers of a medieval castle than damp holes in the ground. The walls and even the ceilings were hidden behind rich tapestries, the floors covered by thick fur carpets, and the darkness driven back by tall, bronze candelabras mat each held dozens of flickering candles.



There was also the sort of heavy, ornately carved furnishings that made Styx long for a match and a canister of gasoline. Whatever his vows he was a warrior through and through, and he understood the danger of cluttering his lair with such foolish things. It would be impossible to defend these chambers against attack. A warrior was as likely to trip over an ottoman and break his neck as to stab his opponent.



Still, the Anasso had never asked his opinion when it came to his choice in decorating his chambers, and Styx was wise enough not to mention his concerns. Over the past hundred years his master had become increasingly unpredictable in his moods. More than one servant had met an unpleasant demise when speaking out of turn.



Styx found his steps slowing as he reached the large bedroom. So much had changed over the past hundred years. Too much.



The dark illness that plagued his master. Damocles, who filled the caves with his filthy presence. The ever deepening deceptions that he was forced to endure for the sake of all.



Not for the first time he questioned his decision to remain. He had made a vow. And his word was his honor. But these days his honor was feeling decidedly tarnished.



"Styx?"



The soft rasping voice filled the air and unconsciously squaring his shoulders, Styx forced his feet to carry him into the room dominated by the vast four-poster bed.



The heat from the roaring fire was enough to make his skin prickle and the stench of rotting flesh nearly overwhelming, but Styx never allowed his steps to falter as he moved to the bed and gazed down at the vampire he had sworn as his master. He didn't look like a master.



Not anymore.



Once a large, towering figure he was now so shrunken and shriveled that he appeared more like a mummy than the most powerful vampire to walk the earth. Even his hair was falling out to reveal the growing lesions that marred his flesh. He had the look and smell of death, but only a fool would believe that he was weak. The glittering black eyes revealed the cunning and dangerous power that still smoldered within him.



Halting beside the bed Styx offered a deep bow. "My lord, you wished to see me?"



A faint smile touched the gaunt, hollow face. "Ah Styx, I hear you have brought me Viper, and that soon he will call my Shalott."



"Yes, my lord."



"I would prefer to have the demon in my grasp, but you have done well. Of course, you always do."



"Unfortunately my best does not seem to always be enough."



He knew his voice was stiff, but there was nothing to be done about it.



"Such modesty. And something else in your voice." Those dark eyes regarded him with a piercing intelligence. "Surely it is not regret?"



"I do not like harming a friend."



"I presume you are referring to Viper?" he asked softly.



Styx clenched his hands at his side. When he had been commanded to capture Viper along with the Shalott he had argued long and hard against it. Surely they had battled to bring an end to precisely this sort of treachery among vampires?



"Yes. He is an honorable man. He does not deserve to be treated in such a manner."



The Anasso heaved a faint sigh. "My old friend, you know that I would gladly welcome him as a brother if he will use the amulet to bring us his slave. Has he done so?"



"No." Styx grimaced. "He ... possesses feelings for the Shalott."



"A pity." The elder vampire stroked the crimson velvet of his robe as if in deep thought, but Styx didn't miss the dark gaze that carefully measured his expression. "Like you I have no taste for causing injury to my brethren. Unfortunately we cannot afford to waver now. The Shalott is almost in our grasp. He must use the amulet."



"And if he won't?"



"I possess full faith that the Ravens will convince him."



"You have given commands to have him tortured?"



"It was your decision, not mine, Styx," the Anasso reminded him gently. "I preferred a far less... messy solution."



Styx stiffened, his face hardening with distaste. "To have Viper murdered and the demon taken by force?"



Something flashed through the dark eyes before the vampire was deliberately smoothing his features to an expression of weary patience.