When Darkness Comes Page 13

  Those sorts of thoughts should easily have distracted her. Unfortunately, her stomach continued to heave and rebel.

  She wrenched open her eyes, hoping that would help.

  Big mistake.

  A scream was wrenched from her throat as she saw the rotting corpses beginning to close in.

  With a large bound, Dante leaped over a fallen tree and with a motion that had her teeth crashing together, he had her back on her feet and shoved behind him.

  “Dead end,” he announced, his voice bleak, his hands clenched to strike.

  Abby struggled to swallow. Slinking through the trees were a dozen, perhaps more, of the zombies. She could only thank God that it was too dark to see more than vague outlines. It was horrible enough to be attacked by the living dead without knowing firsthand how they met their end.

  “Looks like we’ll have to go the stand-and-fight route,” she croaked.

  “Abby.” Dante turned to regard her with an anguished regret.

  She could actually feel his fury and the biting guilt that raged through him. He held himself responsible, she knew. In his mind, he had failed her.

  Lifting her hand, she gently laid it against his cheek.

  “Dante,” she whispered.

  There was the sound of a cracking branch behind her. Instinctively she whirled about. And just as instinctively she screamed as a large stick came whizzing through the dark directly at her head.

  Chapter 12

  Dante knew he was going to die in the woods.

  Vampire or not, he was no superhero. Hell, not even a superhero could battle off a dozen zombies and the dark wizard he could feel hiding among the trees.

  But while he might not be capable of taking them all out, he could hope that he would destroy enough that Abby could use her powers to battle her way to safety.

  It was a risky gamble.

  It was also the only one they possessed.

  He had managed to tear his way through the first wave of attackers and was desperately plowing a path toward the edge of the woods when the wizard had abruptly appeared before him. His hand lifted, and before Dante could dodge, he had struck him with a spell that sent him reeling into blackness.

  He awoke to discover himself chained to a cold, barren stone floor.

  He was alive, and he was not alone. He held himself utterly still, his mind already racing.

  He hadn’t died, but what of Abby?

  Concentrating, he searched for her presence. Nothing. Not even the familiar chaffing of the Phoenix could be detected. If he had possessed a heart, it would have stopped beating.

  Bloody hell.

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  With an effort, he collected his rising panic.

  He couldn’t allow himself to lose control. Not when he was not yet certain Abby was dead. If there was even the most remote chance she was still alive, he had to do whatever was necessary to rescue her.

  Only when he knew there was no hope left would he allow himself the pleasure of ravaging everything and everyone in his path.

  He hung grimly on to that thought as a soft, female hand ran an intimate path over his chest.

  Dante clenched his teeth.

  Once he might have found the lingering touch an invitation to full-blown debauchery.

  Hell, at one time a mere glance was enough to stir his passions. A vampire was rarely particular when it came to sex.

  Now, however, he barely hid his shudder of distaste.

  There was something clammy and possessive about the stroking fingers. And, more importantly, they didn’t belong to Abby.

  “He’s so beautiful,” a voice crooned next to his ear. Dante did not stir so much as a muscle.

  There was a rasping sound from farther away, but still too close for comfort.

  “Stop jerking around, Kayla.”

  So, at least two, he acknowledged.

  Two he could kill. Always presuming he could somehow free himself from the chains.

  “You’re the one who enjoys jerking around, Amil, or should I say jerking off?” the female drawled in mocking tones, obviously referring to the man’s sexual preferences. “Some of us would rather have pretty toys when we play.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, this toy likes to bite.”

  “Not if I keep him in chains.” The fingers toyed with the buttons on Dante’s pants. “Besides, the danger is half the fun.”

  “You’re sick; you know that, don’t you?”

  “We’re all sick, you moron, or we wouldn’t worship the Prince.” The woman gave a soft chuckle, seemingly proud of her evil connections. “I’m just honest about my perversions. And this one could make the most perverse woman scream in pleasure.”

  Dante had every intention of making the woman scream, he thought. Only, pleasure would have nothing to do with it.

  “The master said we are to leave him alone.”

  “What the master doesn’t know—”

  “Don’t be an idiot. The master knows everything.”

  Ah. Dante silently tucked away the tidbit of information. This master was clearly the power he could sense in the distance. And as unloved as he was feared. Information he could use to his advantage.

  “A pity. I suppose that bitch we captured has had her fill of vampire goodness.”

  “That bitch is about to be burned on the altar. I’m sure she’d change places with you if you want.”

  A tingle raced through Dante. They had to be speaking of Abby. She was alive. Freaking hell. He choked back a groan of painful relief.

  He was not too late. Nothing else mattered.

  This time he would not fail her.

  He barely noted the hand that grabbed his crotch. “Having this between my legs might almost make it worthwhile.”

  “Shit, Kayla, do you ever think about anything else?” the man demanded in disgust.

  “It’s been a while.”

  “An hour?”

  The woman gave a snort of ugly amusement. “Well, not long enough to consider your tiny cock as enticement.”

  “Like I’d risk my health with a whore who’s been with every beast and demon this side of the Mississippi. Why don’t you go do something useful and make sure the master has everything he needs for the ceremony?”

  The fingers clutched his thigh, her nails sinking into his skin. “You’re not going to do anything to him, are you? I don’t want to come back and find him a pile of ashes.”

  “The master wants him alive and intact.” There was no mistaking the edge in the man’s voice or the fact that he held his master in little regard. A man who considered himself better suited to be tyrant than servant, Dante told himself. “No doubt the Prince will have something to say about that once he’s returned.”

  “Maybe I can convince him to allow me some playtime before he has him toasted.”

  “And maybe he’ll do us all a favor and have you turned into a goat.”

  “Eunuch.”

  “Slut.”

  The childish exchange completed, Dante felt the woman’s fingers give a last longing sweep before she was lifting herself upright and walking away.

  He longed to scrub away the feel of her touch, but he was sensible enough to resist the urge. Instead he slowly counted to one hundred. He wanted to ensure that he was truly alone with the man before revealing he was awake and aware of his surroundings.

  At last, satisfied that the woman wasn’t going to pop back in for a quickie with the unconscious vampire, Dante slit his eyes just enough to take a swift glance about.

  There was not much to see.

  As he had suspected, he was in a barren room that appeared to have been chiseled deep beneath the ground. His chains were attached to the stony floor, and a lone torch was stuck near the opening that led to a dark corridor beyond.

  There were no chairs, no stray rocks, not even a stick that could be used to pry open the chains. Rather a pain in the ass since he would have to convince his guard to unlock him before he could
break his neck.

  His gaze shifted to the thin, startling young mortal attired in dark robes. He couldn’t determine his magical abilities, but there was no missing the dark thread of power he received from the dark lord. Wild and untutored, but nothing that Dante intended to underestimate. Neither did he intend to underestimate the very large stake he had clutched in his hand.

  He was desperate to get to Abby. But not so desperate as to get himself killed before he could save her.

  Faking a low groan, Dante allowed his eyes to fully open. Across the chamber, the man clutched the stake even tighter while attempting to appear smug.

  Dante resisted the urge to smile. There was a brittle arrogance about the man that would make his task all the easier.

  Nothing like overweening pride to make a man act a fool.

  “Ah, so the dead awakens.” The man held up his stake, as if Dante might somehow have overlooked the lethal weapon. “I suggest you don’t move. Not unless you have developed a liking for wood through the heart.”

  Dante curled his lips as he lifted himself enough to settle against the wall. His fangs he kept well hidden. No point in allowing the idiot to realize he was already dead.

  “I get a lot of that.”

  His captor narrowed his gaze, no doubt surprised by Dante’s casual indifference.

  “Just don’t make any hasty movements.”

  Dante flicked a brow upward. “Why would I make any hasty movements? I have nowhere to go.” He took a moment to glance about, his nose wrinkling at the barren surroundings. “At least not at the moment.”

  Confusion flashed through the pale eyes before the man was pulling his lips into a tight smile.

  “Nice try, but I was there when you tore apart six of my servants in an effort to save that woman.”

  Dante shrugged. Inwardly he was cursing himself. Six? Shit, he thought he had destroyed at least nine.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice. Those witches made sure of that.”

  “Just as they’ll make sure you try to save her from the master.”

  Dante pretended to consider the accusation for a moment.

  “Actually, I don’t think so.”

  The man took an unconscious step closer. Unfortunately not close enough for Dante to get his teeth upon him.

  “What do you mean?”

  The chains rattled as Dante waved his hand toward the thick walls. “I don’t know what it is about these caves, but the first time in three centuries that damn Phoenix doesn’t have its claws stuck in me. I obviously owe you one. And a vampire always pays his debts.” His smile widened. “Always.”

  A beat passed. Obviously his guardian was attempting to use what he loosely claimed as a brain.

  “You’re saying that you’re free of the curse?”

  “Who knows?” Dante leaned his head against the wall. “I’m just saying that I don’t feel the least urge to lift a finger for that bitch who trapped me.”

  Another beat passed. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Whatever.” Dante shrugged. “At least tell me, is she dead?”

  The man shot a revealing glance toward the darkened entrance.

  “Not yet.”

  So, she must be near. A flare of anticipation raced through him before a warning voice reminded him that she might as well be a world away unless he could get the chains removed.

  With an effort, he maintained his air of aloof curiosity. “Not yet? Why would you hesitate . . . ah. Of course. You’re going to offer her up to the Prince, aren’t you?”

  The human stiffened at the hint of mockery in his voice. “When the time is right.”

  Dante casually studied his host, allowing his amusement to show.

  “Let me give you a bit of advice, boy,” he drawled softly. “Don’t wait too long. There are all sorts of beasties out there who will kill you for the opportunity to be the one to give the Prince such a prize. The sooner you offer the sacrifice, the sooner you’ll have glory beyond belief.”

  The stiffness increased as a hint of color touched the cheeks still rounded with youth.

  “The glory belongs to my master.”

  “Master?” Dante gave a small snort of disbelief. “Are you telling me that you captured the Phoenix and handed her over for someone else to reap the rewards? Hell, don’t you have a brain? Oh, maybe it’s the balls you lack.”

  The color turned to purple as the man lifted the stake in a threatening motion.

  “Watch your mouth, vampire. I would love nothing more than to stick this through your heart.”

  Dante merely laughed. He had hit a direct nerve. The man’s frustrated ambition was nearly tangible in the air.

  “God, I thought I had been pussy-whipped by those witches.” He rubbed the salt a bit deeper into the open wound. “At least I never willingly allowed myself to be turned into a schmuck.”

  The pale eyes flashed with fury, but behind the anger was a cold hunger that he could not entirely conceal.

  “I will have my rewards.”

  “A few crumbs dropped by the great master? Pathetic.”

  “Shut up.”

  Dante folded his arms over his chest, inwardly cursing the rattling chains. He hated chains. They made him want to bite something. Hard. Instead he smiled with mocking humor.

  “You could have had it all. Power, glory, a place at the side of the Prince.” His smile widened. “But then, maybe you like being a flunky. I’ve noticed most humans prefer being sheep to wolves.”

  A loud breath hissed through clenched teeth. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.”

  Oh, it was working. The man was nearly drooling with the desire to snatch the power he felt being denied him.

  “Look, I couldn’t care less who manages to kill that bloody Phoenix, just as long as it’s good and dead.” Dante glanced down to inspect his fingernail. “I intend to walk out of this cave a free vampire.”

  The man gave a humorless laugh. “You think the Prince won’t want a taste of you?”

  “Why should he?”

  Another step closer, but still out of reach.

  “You protected the Chalice.”

  Dante didn’t even bother to glance up. That didn’t mean, however, he wasn’t fiercely aware of the exact distance that separated them.

  “I was compelled by the witches. It wasn’t as if I wanted to be chained like a dog.”

  “I doubt he’s that understanding.”

  “I’d say my chances of living through the night are considerably better than your own.”

  A shocked silence filled the chamber. It was obvious the fool had not even considered the cost of returning the dark power to the world. Typical. Most wizards were concerned only with the rewards, never the sacrifice that would be demanded.

  And there was always a sacrifice.

  “Now what are you babbling about?” he rasped.

  Dante lazily lifted his head to regard him with a steady gaze.

  “You do know that the Prince can’t survive in this world without feeding?” he demanded. “He requires blood. A lot of blood. Thankfully, I’m fresh out.”

  A frown touched the young man’s brow. “The woman holding the Phoenix will be the sacrifice.”

  “Abby? She’s barely a snack, even for me.”

  “I . . .” His lips tightened. “There are servants.”

  Dante chuckled. “I hope for your sake there is a whole flock of servants. Otherwise you’re about to find yourself laid over the altar with a knife carving out your heart.”

  Gripping the stake so tightly it threatened to snap in half, the mortal paced toward the narrow opening. Farther away from Dante but clearly unnerved by the thought of altars and knives and the ripping out of hearts.

  “I suppose you think I should let you go so that you can help me overthrow the master?”

  “Me?” Dante gave a sound of disgust. “Why the hell would I want to help you? It doesn’t matter to me who kills the bitch. I’m free either w
ay.”

  The decidedly nervous disciple whirled back. A tick in his left eye revealed his barely controlled emotions.

  “I don’t think you’re nearly as unconcerned as you want me to believe. I think you have feelings for the woman.”

  Dante widened his eyes in mock disbelief even as he inwardly conceded that the man was not quite the idiot he had supposed. Something to remember when it came time to kill him.

  “I’m a vampire, you twit. I don’t have feelings for anyone or anything. Although . . .” He deliberately allowed his words to trail away.

  “What?”

  “She was a helluva lay,” he drawled, hopefully cementing his seeming disregard for a mere mortal. The moment this fool was certain Dante would travel to the pits of hell to save Abby was the moment he lost all advantage. “The things she could do with her tongue could make a man explode like a volcano. I’ll have to admit I wouldn’t mind another couple of rounds before she’s tossed to the Prince. You should try her.”

  A disdain marred the youthful features. “Not all of us are animals.”

  “Ah . . . a woman hater. You prefer men? Or is it something a little more exotic?” Dante gave a taunting smile. “I have a friend who could fix you right up.”

  His captor spit on floor. “Filth.”

  “I may be filth, but I’m not the one who’s about to be fed to the Prince.” Dante settled himself more comfortably. “Give him my regards, won’t you?”

  Pressed near to the breaking point, the man strode forward, his robes fluttering about his slender form.

  “Shut up or I’ll shut you up.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  When Abby had first awoken, she had been relieved to discover she was simply alive. There seemed to be few things worse than being eaten by ravaging zombies. None that came directly to mind anyway.

  Then she opened her eyes.

  It took only a moment to realize she had been moved from the woods to a dark cavern of some sort. And that she was tied to a post stuck near a brazier that was belching out a foul smoke.