She wouldn't get another cheap shot.
Holding up a hand, he regarded her with a frown. "Let me speak."
Her hands flexed in warning. "Stay back, vampire."
"This may be difficult to believe, but I've come to help you."
Her lips curled. "And all I have to do is allow you to have a few sips, right? Thanks, but no thanks."
Dante gritted his teeth. Had there ever been a woman born—human, demon, or other—that didn't have to argue?
"I have no desire for your blood, Shalott," he rasped. "But I will need your skills."
"Forget it." She gently swayed, like a cobra preparing to strike. "I'll see you dead first."
Realizing she thought he meant her hereditary skills of seducing vampires, he gave an impatient wave of his hand.
"I need your fighting skills." He allowed his gaze to shift to the savage cuts that marred her arms and upper torso. He would bet she possessed a matching set on her back. She had been whipped as if she were an animal. "I intend to put an end to the witches."
She stilled, her brows snapping together. "It's impossible. They're too strong."
"Not after they were nearly wiped out by the wizard. They can't stand against two vampires and a Shalott."
She sniffed the air as if seeking to determine if he spoke the truth.
"Why should I trust you?"
"I'm chained just as you are."
Her breath caught. "The beast."
'Yes."
Without warning, she straightened and Dante bared his fangs. Promise or not, if the woman attacked him again, he would rip out her throat.
Instead she glared at him with a hint of fear.
"The Phoenix is here?" she demanded. "You must get her out."
"That's exactly what I intend to do. With your help."
"If they perform the ritual—"
"Can you fight?" he interrupted.
'Yes. The spell can only force me to come to them when they call."
He smiled wryly. "I meant are you well enough to fight? You've been injured."
She appeared momentarily startled by his concern.
As if it was the last thing she expected. Then, as if embarrassed by her display of vulnerability, her chin tilted to a proud angle.
"I can fight."
'Then let's go."
There was a tense beat before she gave a jerky nod of her head and they moved out of the room side by side. Neither was comfortable with having the other at their back.
"The cellar," he muttered, and with a nod she was headed down the hall toward what he hoped was the entrance to the stairs.
As they neared the kitchen, however, she slowed her pace as she shot him a warning frown.
"There is magic being used ahead."
Dante gave a grim nod as he bent down to pull the daggers from his boots. He could have taken a gun from the guards he had captured, but the last thing he wanted was some nosy neighbor calling the cops.
He doubted Chicago's finest could be convinced that two vampires and a demon were the good guys.
Slipping into the kitchen, Dante's gaze flashed over the circle of witches who currently held Viper in a binding spell. Snarling with fury, the elder vampire was battling with all he was worth, but it was obvious for the moment he was trapped.
Thankfully his struggles ensured that the witches were unaware of Dante's approach. It was taking everything they possessed to keep Viper caged.
Forced to halt as he determined which of the women had held his leash, Dante was briefly startled as a blur streaked past him and the Shalott was launching herself at the nearest witch. There was a loud shriek swiftly followed by another as Dante threw his dagger into the back of a chanting witch.
Belatedly realizing their danger, the witches turned to face their latest threat and the spell faltered. Dante flowed forward even as Viper smiled with vicious anticipation.
In the end, the battle was short and brutal. The older witches were dead at the hands of Viper and the Shalott while Dante had used his powers of en-thrallment on the younger witches. They now sat huddled on the floor, nursing their injuries and obediently awaiting Dante's commands.
His hasty touch had been crushing as he had easily broken their spirit. They couldn't so much as stir from the floor without his permission.
Retrieving his dagger, he wiped the blood off before slipping it back into its sheath.
As he straightened, he watched Viper slowly stalk toward the female demon, the older vampire's eyes glittering with a dangerous fire.
"Ah, the Shalott," Viper murmured in silken tones. "Beautiful."
Moving until her back was to the wall, the demon held out a warning hand.
"Stay back."
Viper chuckled. "I won't harm you."
The Shalott tossed back her long mane of raven curls. Dante stifled a groan at the unconsciously provocative motion. With the bloodlust running hot in the air, the demon would be better served to play the role of a passive victim than to directly challenge Viper.
"Yeah, I've heard that a lot," she sneered. "Usually right before someone tries to harm me."
Not surprisingly, Viper slid forward and Dante hurriedly followed directly behind him.
Dammit, they didn't have time for this foolishness.
Debating how much force would be needed to halt the determined vampire, Dante found himself careening off Viper's wide back as he came to a sudden halt and sniffed the air.
"Human," he breathed.
The Shalott's eyes widened. "What?"
"You're a mongrel."
Without warning, the demon leaped on Viper and toppled him to the ground. She ended up seated on his chest.
"Don't push it, vamp," she growled.
Viper laughed as he twisted to send her to the floor with his larger body pinning her down.
"Don't take on more than you can chew, human."
Dante had endured enough. His entire body vibrated with the need to find Abby and carry her from this house.
"Are we going to fight the witches or each other?" he demanded sharply.
Viper gave a nod as he flowed to his feet and tugged the reluctant Shalott off the floor.
"We'll have to finish our game later, pet," he murmured as he moved directly to the door nearly hidden in the pantry. "Business first, I fear."
Chapter 25
It seemed a shame to leave the darkness.
The darkness was warm and soothing and didn't have one psychopathic witch or rampaging zombie.
And best of all, the darkness didn't have the throbbing pain that she could feel lurking in the back of her head.
Unfortunately, along with the throbbing in the back of her head was also the ever-present sense of Dante. Although they were separated, she could feel his cold fury as he battled to make his way to her side.