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."
"%u'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 tacked 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 Ms 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 awhile."
"An hour?"
The woman gave a snort of ugly amusement. "Well, not long enough to consider your tiny c**k 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.