"How long has she been gone?"
"Less than two hours."
"Two hours?"
"The fire was started shortly after midnight, but we didn't notice Lady Darcy missing until a few moments ago."
A cold fear sliced through his heart. Two hours? It was too long. "Damn. She could be anywhere by now."
"Will you go in search of her?"
Styx briefly wondered if his second in command had lost his mind. Not even all the demons in hell could stop him from tracking down Darcy Smith.
Of course, you will have to lake care, a warning voice whispered in the back of his mind.
He didn't doubt for a minute the estate was being constantly watched by the Weres. But if Darcy had managed to leave without them seeing her, he certainly didn't want to alert them to the truth.
With any luck at all he might be able to track down the aggravating woman and have her back before she could discover a means to contact Salvatore.
Luck.
He squashed the urge to howl in frustration.
He was a vampire who depended on cool logic and perfectly executed plans. He did not trust his fate to fickle luck.
Not until tonight.
May the gods have mercy on him.
The taxi dropped Darcy off at a run-down warehouse in a run-down industrial park.
It wasn't the nicest neighborhood. Actually, it was dark, dirty, and unnervingly isolated. But with the meter ticking away she didn't have a lot of options. Her small amount of cash wasn't going to take her far.
Still, the warehouse south of Marengo wasn't a bad place to wait for CIA to arrive with her belongings.
It was hardly the first spot anyone would look for her, and since it had been nearly gutted by a fire about three months before, she had a vague hope that the herd of vampires who were no doubt on her trail would fail to catch her scent among the lingering odor.
Not the best of plans, but it wasn't as if she had a dozen better ones to choose from.
She had known she would have one chance, and one chance alone, to escape from Styx. There had been no time for complicated schemes and failproof plots. She had set the fire, said a prayer, and taken off through the tunnels as fast as she could.
The mere fact that she had managed to flag down a taxi and travel this far was nothing short of amazing.
Wrapping her arms about her waist to ward off the sharp chill, Darcy stomped her feet and peered into the thick darkness.
After what seemed an eternity she heard the unmistakable sound of Gina's piece of junk car and she hurried to the side door where she had told her friend to meet her.
Within moments CIA was hurrying toward the door, excitement crackling about her with a near tangible force.
"Darcy? Holy guacamole, it's you."
Darcy gave a nervous glance around the empty lot before pulling CIA into the warehouse. "Of course it's me. Who did you think it would be?"
CIA shrugged. "I thought you were dead."
Darcy blinked in astonishment. "Why on earth did you think I was dead?"
The slender woman dropped the heavy bag she was carrying onto the floor.
"Well, duh. You disappeared from work without a trace, you didn't answer your cell, you weren't at your apartment, and the pizza joint you deliver for said you hadn't shown up for any of your shifts. What was I supposed to think?"
"Oh." Darcy had never actually considered the thought that anyone would think she had died. Cripes. What about her jobs? Her apartment? If she found herself on the streets again she really was going to stake that damn vampire. "Did you call the police?"
CIA appeared startled by the question. "No."
"Even though you thought I was dead?"
"Dead is dead." CIA shrugged. "It's not as though the police can bring you back or anything."
"I suppose you have a point," Darcy ruefully acknowledged. She couldn't really blame her friend. CIA did many things to make ends meet, not all of them legal. "Did you manage to get the money for me?"
"Yeah, it was hidden in your locker just like you said." CIA kneeled by the leather bag and opened the zipper. "You know, I would never have thought to hide it in a tampon box."
Darcy chuckled as CIA handed her the fifty-dollar bill she always kept hidden in one spot or another.
"Even the most determined thief seems allergic to feminine hygiene products." She slipped the money into her pocket. "What about the coat?"
"I brought it, although I can't imagine you wearing the nasty thing." CIA pulled out the frayed army jacket that belonged to one of the bouncers. She grimaced as she handed it to Darcy. "It smells just like Bart. Ugh."
"It's definitely a distinctive aroma," Darcy agreed as she reluctantly forced herself to pull on the heavy coat. It reeked of cigarette smoke, beer, and things she didn't want to think about. A perfect means to disguise her own scent. And smelly or not, it was warm.
"I also brought you some food." CIA dug through the bag to reveal a box of granola bars.
"Thanks."
"Oh ... I almost forgot. You remember that gorgeous mobster who came in the night you disappeared?"
Darcy grimaced. Did she remember? It was etched into her brain with full Technicolor detail.
"He's pretty tough to forget."
"No doubt." CIA heaved a deep sigh. "What a yummy bit of eye candy."
"What about him?"
"He came back a night or two ago and left this for you," CIA said as she straightened and pressed the small object into her hand.
"He left a cell phone?"
"Yeah, he said that if you came back that you might want to give him a call on it." A hint of envy entered Gina's gaze. "Pretty romantic, if you ask me."
Darcy's stomach clenched. Despite the fact that she had left Styx with every intention of seeking out the werewolf, she hadn't forgotten Salvatore's strange, possessive manner or the numerous pictures that Levet had discovered in his lair.
What sort of man went around snapping photographs of strange women?
Weirdos, that's who.
"Only if you're interested in the psychotic stalker sort of guy," she muttered.
"Hey, if you don't want him I'll gladly take him off your hands," CIA groused.
"Trust me, CIA, you don't want any part of this man."
"Of course not." The woman rolled her eyes. "What would I do with a drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man who, for a miracle, isn't g*y?"
Damn. The last thing Darcy wanted was for her one friend to become entangled with the ruthless demons who now invaded her life. Unfortunately, there was no way to truly warn her of the dangers. Not without CIA assuming that she was completely nuts.