Darkness Everlasting Page 26


Still, she had to know. She simply had to.


"What is it?" she rasped.


With an awkward motion the gargoyle shoved the envelope into her hand. "Here."


Swallowing the lump in her throat, she settled in one of the wooden chairs that were set around the table. It seemed a wise precaution, since her knees already felt weak.


After opening the envelope, she pulled out a stack of photos and spread them on the table.


"Gripes," she breathed, her gaze narrowing as she regarded the numerous pictures. They were all of her, and all taken over the past two weeks. Her in the grocery store. Her in the park. Her in her small apartment (thank God in the kitchen, not the bathroom). A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. "They have been spying on me. That's just. . . creepy."


"There is more," Levet said softy.


Darcy glanced up in surprise as Levet handed her another photo that he had kept hidden.


Taking the picture, Darcy felt her heart give a violent leap as she studied the woman with long, pale blond hair and green eyes.


If she hadn't been obviously older with longer hair, she might have passed as Darcy's identical twin.


"My God. She looks like me," she breathed.


"Yes."


"She has to be a relative." Darcy licked her suddenly dry lips as she glanced up to meet Levet's guarded gaze. "Perhaps even ... my mother."


Feeling as if her entire world had tilted to a strange angle, Darcy didn't even notice the tall, silent form who entered the room and regarded her with a searching gaze.


Not until a cool hand touched her shoulder. "Darcy, what is it?"


With a tiny jump she tilted her head back to discover that Styx was standing directly behind her chair.


Her hand trembled as she held out the shocking photo. "Look."


Unexpectedly, his lean features hardened with a dangerous anger. "Where did this come from?"


Levet stepped forward, his expression stubborn. "Salvatore's lair. You did tell me to search it."


The vampire gave a soft hiss of annoyance. "And to bring whatever you discovered to me, not Darcy. What the hell were you thinking?"


Darcy blinked in bewilderment even as the gargoyle gave a nervous flutter of his wings.


"Why should she not see? The pictures do, after all, concern her."


"Of course they concern me," she said, rising to her feet. She didn't understand Styx's odd reaction, and at the moment she was too overwhelmed to give it much thought. Nothing mattered but the picture. "This is ... I don't know. I must speak with Salvatore."


"Out of the question."


Darcy stiffened as she glared at the vampire looming over her. For the first time she noticed the elegant robe that was draped over his shoulders. No doubt a symbol of his authority.


A symbol that had obviously gone to his head if he thought he could order her around as if she were one of his vampire flunkies.


"It most certainly is not out of the question." She waved the picture beneath his arrogant nose. "Do you understand what this means? I have ... family. And the werewolf knows who and where she is."


With a blur of motion he had snatched the picture from her fingers and was glaring at her with smoldering black eyes.


"And what if it is nothing more than a trick?"


She took an instinctive step back from the prickling power that shimmered in the air around him.


"What do you mean?"


"Salvatore is desperate to get his hands on you. Do you think he wouldn't stoop to any means to lure you into his clutches?"


Something very close to disappointment clenched her heart. Perhaps it was understandable that Styx would treat anything that had been in the hands of the Weres with suspicion, but he could at least try to understand her excitement.


For goodness sake, she had waited for this moment for thirty years.


"That is no trick." She pointed at the picture in his hand. "Whoever that woman is she looks like me. Enough like me to be my mother."


"Darcy..."


He reached out as if he would stroke her cheek, but Darcy quickly darted away. She wouldn't be distracted by his tender caress.


This was too important.


"No. I have to know."


Impatience rippled over his beautiful features before he managed to regain that cool control that was so much a part of him.


"Then we will discover the truth," he said with dark authority.


"How?"


He gave a lift of his shoulder. "I will approach Salvatore myself."


Darcy rolled her eyes. "Right, because it worked out so well for you last time."


A hint of fang flashed at her deliberate jab. He didn't like to be reminded that Salvatore had ever gotten the best of him.


"I was caught off guard. I assure you, that will not happen again."


Darcy believed him. He would kill the pureblood before he would allow himself to be humiliated again.


Which did nothing for her confidence in his ability to discover the truth that she needed.


She couldn't get answers from a dead wolf.


"Maybe not, but Salvatore's not very likely to answer any questions to his sworn enemy, is he?"


"He will if he knows what is good for him."


"Oh, for God's sake, you can't beat the truth out of him," she snapped, her usually sunny temperament pressed beyond all reason. "It makes far more sense for me to question him. This might be the reason he is seeking me. Maybe this woman has paid him to find me."


"Or else she is already in his clutches," he said darkly.


"Oh." She pressed a hand to her heart. The thought of the unknown woman being held by the Weres was enough to send her into a panic. "Dear God. We must do something."


"I have already promised I would deal with this, Darcy. Leave it in my hands."


She sucked in a deep breath. He had to be the most stubborn vampire ever created.


"If you insist on being involved that's fine, but I'm going to be the one to confront Salvatore."


The dark eyes flashed with warning. That is not your decision to make."


"I'm making it my decision. I won't have you endangering this woman because you want to punish the werewolves."


Darcy had argued all she intended to. She had made up her mind and that was the end of it. With firm steps she headed to the door.


"Where are you going?" Styx growled from behind her.


"To change."


Styx watched with impotent anger as Darcy swept from the room.


Well, he had managed to screw that up with stunning success.


Of course, it wasn't entirely his fault.


Whirling around, he pointed a finger directly at the tiny demon attempting to hide behind one of the wooden chairs.


"You," he breathed in a lethal tone. "You did this."


With an effort the gargoyle tilted his chin to a stubborn angle. "Hey, don't blame the messenger. After all, you're the one who sent me to that damn lair. I could have been killed."


A pity he hadn't been, Styx savagely told himself. He had come in search of Darcy in the hopes of spending the last of the fading night in her arms. He was in need of her soft touch after hours spent dealing with two demanding vampires who expected him to magically solve their troubles.


Now it appeared there was about zero chance of any soft touches.


Not when he was forced to have to convince his headstrong captive there wasn't a chance in hell of her going anywhere near Salvatore.


"So instead you return with pictures that were bound to send Darcy rushing straight into the arms of her enemies," he growled.


Level narrowed his gaze. "I would say she is already in the arms of her enemies."


"Have a care, gargoyle."


"Can you deny my charge?" The small demon moved from behind the chair, his tail twitching. "You are the one who kidnapped her. You are the one who is holding her prisoner. You are the one who is using her to further your own goals."


Styx curled his hands into tight fists. It was that or choking the gargoyle into the netherworld.


He needed no reminders that he was a villain in this absurd farce. At the moment he was far more concerned with the more dangerous villains.


"Salvatore is the one to worry about, you fool. He has invested a great deal in getting his hands on Darcy."


"You still have no proof that he intends to harm her."


"And no proof that he does not." Flushed with the need to hit or bite or kill something, Styx paced across the large kitchen. It was ridiculous. He never paced. It was a sign of a disordered mind. Forcing himself to come to a halt, he regarded the annoying demon with a cold glare. "Do you wish to put your trust in a werewolf who has already proven he has no regard for the laws that bind him?"


"I have no wish to put my trust in vampires or werewolves," Levet muttered. "They are notoriously clever at turning any situation to their own advantage."


"If Darcy is harmed I will hold you personally responsible," Styx warned. "You should never have shown her that picture."


"You would have kept it from her?"