When Darkness Comes Read online

His lips curled into a smooth smile. “You needn’t regard me with such distrust. I never feed upon my guests. It is rather bad for business.”

  Well, that was a relief. She cleared her dry throat. “And what is your business?”

  “I am a procurer of pleasure,” he said simply.

  She choked, her eyes widening at the unexpected words. “You’re a pimp?”

  His soft laugh reminded her forcibly of Dante as he tilted his head to one side. “Nothing so mundane,” he purred in low tones. “I offer . . . ah no, Dante would not thank me for exposing you to such sordid tales. He is astonishingly protective of you.” Without warning, he reached up to lightly brush her cheek. “And it is little wonder.”

  She stiffened in unease. “What?”

  “Such purity.” His gaze drifted over her tense form before returning to linger upon her pale features. “A golden beacon to the dark.”

  First lovely and now pure? The poor, incredibly beautiful vampire really must be off his rocker.

  Not a very comforting thought.

  “I’m afraid you must have me confused with someone else,” she said in slow, easy-to-follow tones.

  His lips twitched as if realizing that she feared him mental. “I do not speak of chastity.” He gave an elegant wave of his hand. “Such a tedious mortal obsession. Or even of the spirit that you now carry within you. I speak of your soul, Abby. You have known tragedy and even despair, but you remain untainted.”

  She took a careful step back, desperately wishing that Dante would return. There was something very unnerving about this Viper.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Evil, lust, greed—the darker passions that so easily tempt mortals.”

  “Well, I suppose everyone is tempted.”

  “Yes, and so few resist.” He closed the small distance between them, his fingers once again tracing the line of her cheek. “Such innocence is bound to be an irresistible attraction for those who walk in the night. Wickedness always seeks redemption, even as the shadows seek the light.”

  Abby’s brain was beginning to ache in an attempt to follow the obscure revelations. Holy crap, she thought Dante spoke in riddles.

  “Ah . . . right,” she muttered, taking yet another step back in their peculiar dance. “Where is Dante?”

  Viper offered a shrug. “He did not give me his full itinerary, but I do know he has gone in search of breakfast.”

  Her stomach gave a sudden growl of relief. She couldn’t even remember her last meal. Which meant it was far too long ago.

  “Thank God, I’m starving. I hope he brings . . .” The delicious images of pancakes and eggs and bacon were suddenly tarnished by the thought of what Dante would be having for his predawn meal. “Ew.”

  Viper lifted a golden brow at her unmistakable shudder.

  “Do not worry, lovely Abby. He is not on the hunt.” Moving with mesmerizing grace, Viper flicked open a hidden panel in the wall to reveal a small refrigerator filled with dark bottles. “This is the home of a vampire. I always possess an ample supply of synthetic blood. The breakfast is for you.”

  Ridiculously relieved to know that Dante wasn’t out sucking the life from hapless pedestrians, she heaved a deep sigh.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  Closing the panel, the vampire smiled in a mysterious manner as he once again returned to stand before her.

  “You do not know, do you?”

  Her brows snapped together. “Know what?”

  “Since Dante was captured by the witches, he has been incapable of taking blood from a human. It is an element of the spell that binds him to the Phoenix.”

  “Oh, I . . . see.”

  “No, I don’t believe you see at all,” he murmured softly. “The suffering that Dante has endured for the past three hundred years has been immeasurable. He has been leashed and imprisoned by those who have no compassion, no ability to see him as anything more than a monster.”

  Abby stilled. Dear heavens. She had been so consumed with her own fears that she had never taken even a moment to consider what Dante must have endured all those endless years. He had been a prisoner, chained for eternity to Selena. God, it was a wonder he hadn’t dumped her whining butt in the nearest gutter and left her as demon food.

  “He’s not a monster,” she retorted in sharp tones.

  “You have no need to convince me, my dear.” He peered deep into her eyes. “I can only hope that you will understand his suffering and do what is possible to ease his burdens.”

  “Me?”

  “You now possess the power.”

  She blinked, giving a faint shake of her head. “And I thought Dante was cryptic. No offense, but vampires are strange creatures. Not as strange as that Halford or hellhounds, but definitely strange.”

  He gave a soft chuckle as he reached out to touch her curls. “We are ancient beings. We have seen the birth and fall of nations. Witnessed endless wars, famines, and natural disasters. Surely we are allowed a few eccentricities?”

  And what did she say to that?

  “Or at least a Purple Heart.”

  The midnight eyes momentarily filled with something that might have been amusement. “There are also visions of joy, pleasure, and unexpected beauty. Beauty such as yours.”

  “Exquisite taste as always, Viper,” a velvet voice drawled from the doorway.

  Startled by the interruption, Abby turned her head to regard Dante slowly strolling toward them. With a casual motion, he tossed the suitcase he held in his hand onto the sofa, never pausing in his approach.

  More relieved than she cared to admit at his return, Abby drank in the pale, wicked countenance. As ridiculous as it might be to accept, it was almost as if a part of herself had been missing during his absence. A part that now felt fulfilled.

  She was barely aware that Viper had moved to stand behind her, his hands resting lightly upon her shoulders.

  “So you return at last, Dante,” Viper murmured. “We were worried.”

  The silver gaze narrowed as Dante pointedly glanced toward the hands intimately grasping Abby’s shoulders.

  “Your concern is quite touching, Viper.” He slowly arched a brow. “And speaking of touching . . .”

  There was no mistaking the menacing edge in the satin voice, but Viper merely laughed.

  “You cannot blame a vampire for admiring such purity. It is quite . . . intoxicating.”

  “Then perhaps you should get a breath of fresh air to clear your mind,” Dante warned.

  “Always the warrior.” Viper reached to pull Abby’s fingers to his lips. “If you decide you prefer a poet, be sure to call for me.”

  “Viper,” Dante growled.

  With that mysterious smile, Viper offered his fellow vampire a faint bow before moving toward the door.

  “I shall leave the two of you to rest. Don’t worry that you’ll be bothered. I promise to keep the wolves, or in this case the demons, at bay.”

  Left on their own, Dante paused a moment before he moved to take the hand that Viper had so recently caressed.

  “You must forgive my friend,” he said with a wry smile. “He believes himself to be irresistible to women.”

  Smothering the urge to reach up and touch the sculpted face, she offered a distracted shrug. “He is rather fascinating,” she felt bound to admit. Surely not even a babbling idiot would believe she was utterly indifferent to the beautiful fallen angel?

  “You find him attractive?”

  “In an undead sort of way.”

  His expression hardened. “I see.”

  Abby shivered. “He also terrifies me. I think he would destroy anything or anyone in his path if it suited his purpose.”

  A smile touched his lips. “He will not harm you. Not as long as I am near.”

  “Where have you been?”

  He gave her fingers a slight squeeze before moving back to the suitcase he had left on the sofa and sweeping it open.

  “To Selena
’s to retrieve a few belongings I thought we might need.” He pulled out several pairs of jeans and casual cotton shirts that had once belonged to her employer. “They might not be a perfect fit, but they should do.”

  She heaved a sigh of sheer relief at the thought of clean clothes. A small slice of paradise.

  “Thank you.”

  He reached back into the suitcase to pull out a small plastic container. “I also brought you this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Something I believe you shall soon have need of.”

  Hoping against hope that it was a hot fudge sundae, she took the container and slowly pulled off the lid. Her nose wrinkled at the foul smell that wafted from the green goo that most certainly was not a hot fudge sundae.

  “Ugh. This is that vile stuff Selena used to drink.”

  “It will give you nourishment.”

  She hastily put the container onto a nearby table. “So will a cheeseburger and fries, and without any icky green aftertaste.”

  “Abby.” Oddly Dante turned to pace across the large room, his fingers running a restless path through his long raven hair. “There is something you need to know.”

  Her blood froze at his raw tone. She might not know jack about vampires, but she did know that tone. It meant trouble. It always meant trouble.

  “What?”

  Slowly he turned to study her with a somber expression. “When Selena was dying, she touched you.”

  Abby reluctantly recalled those horrible moments in Selena’s charred bedroom. It was something she had tried to put from her mind.

  She gave a nod of her head. “Yes, I remember. Her fingers were moving, and then she grabbed my arm. It hurt.”

  “That was because she transferred her powers to you.”

  “Her . . . powers?”

  “The spirit of the Phoenix,” he said. “It now resides within you.”

  She stumbled backward as she waited for the punch line to the sick joke. There had to be a punch line, didn’t there? Otherwise Dante would be serious. And that would mean she had some horrid creature setting up camp inside her.

  Abby clutched her throat with trembling hands. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  “No,” she at last managed to gasp. “You’re lying.”

  Easily detecting her distress, Dante moved forward, his hands held out. “Abby, I know this is difficult.”

  Abby loosed a hysterical laugh even as she bumped painfully into the paneled wall.

  She had thought there was nothing left to shock her. How could it? Nothing could be worse than demons and vampires.

  Or so she had thought.

  Now she gave a violent shake of her head. “What could you know? You’re not even human.”

  Chapter 5

  Dante suppressed the urge to growl in frustration.

  During his hurried excursion to Selena’s, he had prepared himself for this confrontation. He hadn’t pretended that Abby would do backflips of joy at being the Chalice for the Phoenix. Or thank him for offering the truth.

  He knew she would be upset, even hysterical.

  But that sudden fear in her eyes as she backed from him was enough to stir his most primal feelings.

  Bloody hell, why did he care if she had returned to thinking him a monster? He had endured over three hundred years chained to the Phoenix without giving a damn about Selena as a person. Unless one counted the delicious dreams of draining her dry.

  She had been no more than his captor. The tangible source of his smoldering fury.

  But Abby . . .

  It did matter, he grimly accepted. It mattered too damn much.

  Reluctantly he studied the fragile, too-pale features, knowing he would do whatever necessary to ease her distress.

  “Please listen to me, Abby,” he murmured.

  She gave another shake of her head. “No, just stay away from me.”

  Stay away? The irony brought a wry smile to his lips.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. We are now bound together. Neither of us can leave the other. It’s part of the spell.”

  Her eyes widened in horror before they abruptly narrowed. “Now I know that you’re lying. You did leave me.”

  “I did not go far, and it was with the knowledge that I would soon return to your side,” he said softly, subtly moving forward. “Had I deliberately intended to flee, the pain would have been unbearable. Trust me, I tried enough times over the centuries to be certain.”

  She licked her dry lips. “No.”

  “Abby, can you tell me honestly that you did not feel my absence? Deep within you?”

  The truth was etched upon her pale features even as she shook her head in denial. “This . . . can’t be. I would know if some creature was living inside me.”

  “Do you want proof?”

  She pressed even tighter to the paneling. “What do you mean?”

  Dante slowly held out his hand. “Come.”

  Abby paused, staring at his hand for long moments before at last placing her fingers on his own. Dante felt a rush of warmth at her unspoken display of trust. And another rush of warmth at the sensation of her soft skin brushing his own.

  Heady stuff for a vampire who had been cold for an eternity.

  With a gentle tug, he led her across the room to the large mirror hanging above the marble fireplace. Then, stepping behind her, he placed his hands upon her shoulders.

  “Tell me what you see,” he commanded in low tones.

  She gave an impatient sound. “I see . . . oh.” She leaned forward to peer into the mirror. “God, you have no reflection.”

  Dante rolled his eyes heavenward. “Of course not, I’m a vampire.”

  “It’s just so weird.”

  “Abby, look at yourself,” he rasped.

  “What?” Her brows drew together. “You want me to see I’m a wreck? News flash, I already knew that.”

  “Look at your eyes.”

  “My eyes? I—” Her words abruptly broke off as she reached with shaking fingers to touch her reflection. And no wonder. The soft brown eyes that had always fascinated him were now a brilliant, sapphire blue. The same blue that had marked Selena. A visible sign of the Phoenix that she could no longer deny. “No. No, no, no.”

  She stumbled backward, straight into his arms. Gently Dante turned her about and pressed her head to his chest as he brushed his hand over her curls.

  “Easy, love,” he murmured. “It’s going to be okay.”

  A violent shiver raced through her body before she pulled back her head to stab him with a tearful glare.

  “How? How is it going to be okay? I have some . . . creature inside me.” She gave a sudden gasp. “Oh God, that’s why the demons were trying to kill me, isn’t it?”

  His arms tightened about her. He could lie, of course. And for a few minutes she might actually be comforted. But in the end, he knew that she would have to know the truth.

  “Yes. They sensed the spirit within you as well as the fact you are vulnerable. They will halt at nothing to regain their Prince.”

  A stark terror darkened the brilliance of her newly blue eyes. “I’m going to die.”

  “No,” he swore in vicious denial. “I will not allow that to happen.”

  “And how long do you suppose we can fight off every demon on earth? Unless you intend for us to hide here for the next fifty billion years?”

  Shifting, he placed his fingers beneath her chin and forced her to meet his stern gaze.

  “It will not be necessary. With every passing hour, the Phoenix gathers its strength.”

  “The Phoenix is gathering strength?” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Inside me? Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

  A hint of tenderness eased his stark expression. “I only mean that it soon will be capable of masking itself so that the demons cannot sense its presence.”

  Far from comforted, Abby regarded him warily. “And what else will this thing be doing inside me?”

&
nbsp; “I can’t say for certain,” he reluctantly admitted. “Selena did not consider me her confidant. I was merely her chained beast.”

  Her head dropped back onto his chest. “My God, what am I going to do?”

  He laid his cheek upon the top of her head, readily surrounding himself in her sweet warmth. “I do have a suggestion.”

  “What?”

  “We must seek out the witches.”

  He felt her suck in a shocked gasp. “The witches? You mean the women who put this Phoenix into Selena?”

  His features hardened. Even after three centuries, he vividly recalled every moment he endured at the hands of the coven. The black dungeon. The chains that had burned his very flesh. The magic that had leashed him like a neutered dog.

  His searing hatred had not eased, but his concern for Abby was even greater. There was no one else who could help her.

  “Yes.”

  “But”—she pulled back to regard him with a frown—“surely they are dead by now?”

  “Their powers are linked to the Phoenix. As long as it lives, so do they.”

  “And you think they could help me?”

  “Perhaps,” he offered cautiously.

  “Then let’s go to them.” She reached up to clutch the lapels of his silk shirt. “Where are they?”

  “Actually, I’m not entirely certain.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As I said, Selena kept most of her secrets to herself, but I do know that she met the witches on occasion. They must have a coven close by.”

  “In Chicago?”

  He gave a faint shake of his head, having already considered the possible locations. “Not in the city. They will need a place that is well secluded.”

  “Why?”

  Dante hesitated. Although he had determined not to hide the truth from Abby, he conceded that there was no need for graphic details. Not when they were only bound to upset her further.

  “They perform . . . certain rites that they would not want others to witness.”

  Thankfully she was too distracted to consider the nature of the rites. Instead she chewed her bottom lip until Dante shivered with the need to soothe it with a soft kiss.

  “Then how can we possibly find them?”

  Now it was Dante who was distracted. The scent of her satin skin, the feel of her soft curves, the delicious heat that stirred his passions.