"I have only done what was necessary."
He had reached the door when Viper's soft words reached him.
"Perhaps, but if Darcy discovers the truth there will be hell to pay."
Chapter Twelve
It was nearly midnight when Darcy awakened feeling oddly disoriented.
No, it was more than disoriented, she acknowledged as she showered and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
There was a fuzzy thickness in her head, as if someone had packed it full of cotton.
Strange considering she couldn't be hungover. She didn't drink (rather ironic considering she was a bartender). And she didn't feel as if she was coming down with a nasty bug.
Could it be that the blood she had been donating to Styx was beginning to take its toll?
Troubled by the faint headache and niggling sense that all was not well, Darcy made her way downstairs.
No doubt a good meal and a breath of fresh air were all she needed.
And perhaps a vampire kiss or two.
The thought was enough to warm her blood and bring a weak smile to her lips as a familiar silent form slid from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.
"Good evening, DeAngelo."
The demon performed a small bow that always managed to catch Darcy off guard. Even though vampires seemed to adapt to the vast changes they must endure over the centuries, they still retained a hint of old-world manners that were rarely displayed in this day and age.
"Lady Darcy."
Lady. She ran a rueful hand through her short, spiky hair. Not freaking likely.
"Have you seen Levet or Styx?"
Straightening, the demon regarded her from the depths of his cowl. "I believe they have traveled to Viper's."
A stab of disappointment raced through her before she could ruthlessly squelch it.
Jeez.
She really had tumbled into the realms of la-la land.
"Okay." She managed another weak smile. "Is dinner ready?"
"It is prepared and waiting for you in the kitchen."
"Great."
There was another elegant bow. "If there is anything else you need, you have only to tell me."
Darcy skirted the vampire and made her way to the kitchen.
The Ravens didn't frighten her, but they did occasionally make her feel a bit squirrelly. She wasn't used to having so many people around her, human or demon. At times she felt like a peculiar experiment being closely monitored by a herd of scientists.
Even when she couldn't see them, she could feel their gazes following her.
Of course, there were some benefits, she acknowledged as she entered the kitchen to discover a vegetable casserole waiting for her in the oven and a large bowl of fresh fruit already set on the table.
After filling her plate, she took her place at the table and prepared to enjoy the delicious dinner.
She had barely settled in her chair, however, when a wave of dizziness swept through her and she nearly tumbled to the floor.
What the heck?
Her hands lifted to press against her temple. Along with the dizziness there was the strangest sense of deja vu that was stabbing through her brain.
It made no sense. It was as if there was a memory trying to surface, but someone else's memory, not her own.
Trying not to panic at the uncomfortable sensations, Darcy sucked in a deep breath and battled to make some sense of the images.
There was something ... Levet, yes. The gargoyle was standing in the kitchen holding an envelope in his hands. And she was reaching for it...
What was in the envelope?
Pictures.
Pictures of herself. And someone else.
Her head throbbed, and then, with a sharp motion she was on her feet.
"That son of a bitch," she hissed with trembling fury.
Styx knew something was wrong the moment he approached the secluded estate.
He could feel the vibrating tension of his Ravens as he drove through the high, iron gate.
After pulling the Jag to a squealing halt before the door of the mansion, Styx shot out of the car and charged into the house.
The first thing that hit him was the unmistakable stench of smoke.
Holy freaking hell.
There had been a fire. And very recently. Perhaps not a shocking scent in most Chicago homes in winter. Humans quite often burned logs to ward off the northern chill. But a vampire would rarely allow an open blaze anywhere near. Especially not within his lair.
Without slowing his charge, Styx passed through the darkened foyer and into the living room, where he discovered DeAngelo and two other Ravens speaking in low voices.
At his entrance they turned to regard him with troubled expressions. His heart squeezed with sudden unease.
For a vampire to look troubled meant that there was something terribly, horribly wrong.
"What has happened?"
"Master." DeAngelo offered a deep bow. "I fear we have failed you."
The unease became an unbearable howling fear. "Darcy? Has she been harmed?"
"No, my lord, but she has . . . escaped," the vampire revealed with obvious self-disgust.
For a blinding moment Styx could feel nothing but overwhelming relief. Darcy wasn't hurt.
He could bear anything but that.
Styx ignored the Ravens, who studied him with stoic apology. It was taking a staggering amount of effort to compose his normally cool and logical mind.
At last he managed to latch onto a few coherent thoughts.
The first being the unpleasant realization that there had been some urgent need for Darcy to have escaped.
He didn't believe for a moment that she had simply awakened and decided to escape his "evil" clutches. After all, she had been with him for days and had never made an effort to flee.
His effort to wipe her memories had clearly been unsuccessful.
The thought twisted his stomach with dread.
Dammit, he should have taken into consideration that she wasn't entirely human. After all, there were any number of demons capable of withstanding the enthrallment of a vampire.
If she had managed to remember, then she not only was missing, but more than likely was already searching out Salvatore.
Bloody, bloody hell.
"How?" he abruptly demanded, his sharp tone making the waiting vampires flinch.
"She started a fire in the kitchen, and while we were distracted she used the tunnels to make her way out of the house," DeAngelo confessed.
So that explained the smoke.
"Clever of her," he grudgingly admitted. "She managed to comprehend the one certain means of distracting a house filled with vampires."
DeAngelo flashed his fangs in annoyance. "It was not so clever that we should have been fooled. I have no excuse."
Styx waved aside the dark words. His only thought was following Darcy and bringing her back where she belonged.