When Darkness Comes

"Yow," she breathed. "That's… spooky."



Dante was in full predator mode. With uncanny ease, he melted into the shadows and held himself motionless. There was none of her fidgeting, no muttered complaints of the hedge poking into his back. Hell, there wasn't even any tedious breathing to stir the air.



If she wasn't vibrantly aware of the tension coiled within him, she might have thought he had been turned to stone.



Shifting slightly, she closely studied the alabaster features that were almost unrecognizable. This was not the tender lover or roguish pirate. This was the warrior vampire who still sent a tingle of unease down her spine.



Feeling her gaze, he turned to stab her with his silver gaze.



"Do you sense anything?"



'Yes." She absently rubbed her arms. The prickles racing over her skin had started the moment she had stepped onto the grounds of the house. "I just don't know what it is."



'Tell me." His voice was a whisper of velvet.



"It's like I can almost hear whispers in the back of my mind. I can't make out the words, but I know they're there."



'The witches?"



"That would be my guess." Her breath caught as the white fangs ran out and his hands curled to claws. The demon was in full force. "What was that?"



"What?"



"Did you just growl?"



"I don't like this." His gaze returned to the house, his tone flat. "It's too quiet."



"Hardly surprising they might want to keep a low profile after being attacked by the wizard. They're not likely to be having a party."



"And yet they have no spells to guard the house."



"WhatoftheShalott?"



He sniffed the air. "It must be within. Or dead."



Abby shivered. Or dead…



Those weren't exactly words to bolster a girl's confidence.



She licked her dry lips.



"Then I suppose there's nothing to stop us, right?"



He slowly turned back to her, his expression grim. 'There is one thing."



Her head dropped into her hands as she heaved out a rasping sigh. "I knew it. I just knew it. What is this thing?"



"This is a private home."



"And?"



"And I can't enter without an invitation."



She jerked her head up. 'You're kidding me?"



"No."



'You don't live in a crypt and you can't turn into a bat, but you have to have an invitation to enter a house?" Abby hissed.



A reluctant amusement softened the flat eyes. 'You wanted me to be vampirish."



"Not when it's inconvenient."



"Sorry."



She wrinkled her nose, realizing just how ridiculous she was being. "No, this is for the best," she forced herself to say. "Until we know what's going to happen, I would rather you stay away from the witches."



He didn't so much as flick an eyelash, but Abby sensed his flare of anger. Great, just great She had managed to rub against his vampire pride. A certain means to ensure he would bull his way headfirst into the nearest danger.



Sometimes her stupidity amazed even herself.



'You want me to hide in the bushes?"



"Dante, it only makes sense to split up," she attempted to undue her unwitting damage. "I need you to be able to rescue me if I need help."



"I'm not letting you go in there alone."



She reached out to touch his arm. It was as cold and unyielding as granite.



"We don't have much choice."



His fangs flashed in the moonlight. Not the most reassuring of sights.



"The witches know you're here. They'll eventually come out to find you."



That wasn't reassuring either.



Especially if Dante was forced to retreat before the witches decided to make an appearance. She would rather go in now and know she had backup.



"We don't have that long. Dawn will be coming soon."



'Then we'll come back tomorrow night."



"Dante. I think—"



With a blurring speed, Dante had pinned her to his chest, the air shimmering and snapping about him.



"Dammit, Abby, I can't let you go in there," he rasped.



If she had a lick of sense, she would have been terrified. Mate or not, this man could crush her without effort. Or worse, rip out her throat.



But it was annoyance that stiffened her spine and brought a frown to her brow.



"I promise I won't take any risks. I will meet with the witches and—"



"No."



"Listen, Mr. Macho, I make my own decisions."



The arrogant nose flared. "Not on this."



Her teeth snapped together. "This argument is starting to get old, Dante. I'm not a child. To be honest, I don't think I was ever a child. I won't be dictated to, not by you or anyone else."



He studied her flushed features with a steady gaze. "If you die, I die," he said simply.



The wind was sucked efficiently from her sails.



She searched his hard features. "You will die because I'm your mate?"



"Because you're the reason I exist."



"Oh." Abby set back on her heels, stunned by the stark beauty of his words.



It was hard to remain all prickly and independent when he was making her heart melt.



Damn him.



"Dante—"



His finger touched her lips to halt her stumbling words, his head turning toward the unkempt yard that surrounded the house.



"Someone is approaching," he whispered directly in her ear.



Her fingers tightened on his arm as a sharp fear pierced her heart. This was why she was here, of course, but that didn't ease the chill that clutched at her stomach.



These women were not the local garden club. They weren't going to invite her in for crumpets and tea.



They were powerful witches who could chain a vampire with their spell and control an ancient spirit that kept the world safe from demons.



She would be a fool to underestimate them.



Ignoring the weakness in her knees, Abby forced herself upright. If nothing else, she would face whatever was coming on her feet. She didn't hear Dante move, but she knew he was standing directly behind her.



Within moments, a thin, narrow-faced woman appeared from the shadows. Halting before Abby, she astonishingly bent in a deep bow.



"My lady, you have arrived at last," she stated the obvious in somber tones.



Abby glanced at Dante over her shoulder. "My lady?"



"Selena never got over being a noblewoman. Obviously you inherited her title."



"I wish that was all I inherited," she muttered.



The witch cleared her throat, blatantly ignoring the vampire who stood only a handful of steps away.



"If you will you come with me, my lady? The mistress is waiting for you."



My lady? Mistress?



The woman must have spent her summers working at the local Renaissance Fair.



Abby squared her shoulders. "Only if Dante is invited as well."



The thin face briefly hardened with distaste. "Of course. The protector must accompany the Chalice. This way."



Turning, the woman headed back toward the dark house. So this was it. Abby pressed a hand to her quivering stomach.



Without a sound, Dante was standing directly before her. 'You're ready?" he demanded.



For a moment she allowed her gaze to rest upon his impossibly beautiful features. Surely nothing horrible could happen as long as he was near?



"As ready as I can be," she retorted with a grimace.



"Don't let down your guard," he warned. "And stay close tome."



"I think I'm going to throw up."



He took a deliberate step backward. Then that staying-close thing was more of a metaphor."



Grudgingly her lips twitched at his teasing. She knew he was attempting to ease the terrible tension that clutched at her.



"Love is supposed to be for better or worse."



He lifted his brows. "Love only goes so far."



"Thanks."



His hands framed her face with gentle care. "You can do this, lover."



Sucking in a deep breath, Abby gave a slow nod of her head. "Yes."



The silver eyes flared. "Then let's go make you human again."



Viper carefully adjusted his lace cuffs before returning his attention to the wizard huddled in the corner. The smell of blood was thick in the air. The wizard might be ancient, but he bled like any human when his head connected with the stone wall.



Unfortunately, despite the delicious scent, he felt no urge to drain the pathetic creature. The wizard's worship of the dark lord made his blood as tainted as his black soul.



Viper gave a flick of his hand as the wizard attempted a feeble ensnaring spell. The man had already been weak from his encounter with Dante. And oddly his few attempts to call upon his darker powers had been unsuccessful. Viper could only presume the Prince was not pleased with his disciple.



He had been no match for an ancient vampire.



"I think what we have here is a failure to communicate," Viper mocked as he regarded the pasty features.