Level's chest swelled with obvious pride. "Precisement."
Moving to join them at the door, Styx muttered beneath his breath before tugging Darcy back to her feet.
"I thought you desired to ... shake a leg?" he demanded of Levet.
"Spoilsport." Levet stuck out his tongue before turning on his heel and leading them down the dark hallway.
Darcy followed behind his tiny form with Styx bringing up the rear. A glance over her shoulder revealed his cold, resolute expression as he prowled through the shadows. He was in full uber-Rambo alert. And God help anything that might stray across his path.
She sent up a silent prayer that they would manage to slip from the lair unnoticed.
Not only did she fear for Styx and Levet, but the thought of an all-out, bloody, death-to-the-end sort of battle made her stomach clench in dread.
She might be furious with Salvatore and her mother, but she didn't want them harmed.
Certainly not for her sake.
Careful not to trip over the warped planks of the floor, Darcy kept pace with Levet as he led them toward the back of the building. The heavy sense of decay only deepened as they headed down a narrow flight of stairs, and she found her gaze lifting more than once toward the low ceiling that was water stained and boasting spiders so large she half expected Frodo and Sam to appear and fight them off.
Sheesh. She just wanted to be out of this place.
They had made it down three flights of stairs and were creeping across the abandoned lobby when Styx flowed past them with startling speed.
"Wait."
He held his arms out as he turned to peer toward the distant doorway. As if on cue there was a rustle of movement, and the dark, slender form of Salvatore appeared. Darcy's heart sank as she watched a mocking smile touch the Were's lips. Salvatore had been deliberately waiting for them, and he intended trouble.
"Ah, Styx." The pureblood performed a sweeping bow. Even in the squalid surroundings he managed to appear more like a sophisticated businessman than a lethal demon. Which only went to prove that you shouldn't ever judge a book by its cover. "Welcome to my lair, master. I was beginning to fear you would never arrive."
Styx spread his feet and planted his hands on his hips. His expression never altered, but there was no mistaking the deepening chill in the air.
"Stand aside, Salvatore," he commanded in a tone that made Darcy shiver. "As much as I long to rip your heart from your chest, I have no desire to upset Darcy."
"In that we are in agreement." Salvatore sent a deliberately intimate glance in Darcy's direction before returning his attention to Styx. "Unfortunately, you have been a thorn in my side for too long. Tonight I intend to be rid of you once and for all."
"Brave words, wolf. I hope you have brought more than yourself to accomplish such a task," Styx hissed as he moved in front of Darcy. "Not even you can be stupid enough to believe you can kill me without a great deal of assistance."
"We shall see," Salvatore purred.
"As you wish."
"No ..." Darcy reached out to grasp the back of Styx's shirt. A worthless waste of effort. She captured nothing but air as he leaped toward the waiting Were.
Her breath was squeezed from her lungs as the two demons crashed together with a tremendous force. For a moment she was lost in horrified fascination as the two grappled together, their muscles rippling with an unnatural power.
They remained locked together as each tried to gain the upper hand. Styx had the advantage of size and strength, but Salvatore managed to use his speed to land a number of savage blows that would have killed a mortal.
Despite Salvatore's lightning-fast strikes, however, it appeared it would be a swift battle, with Styx the obvious victor. Then a strange shimmer surrounded the Were, and Darcy felt an echoing tingle race through her blood.
She instinctively stepped back as Salvatore gave a hair-raising howl and began to shift.
Lily . . . crap.
It didn't happen at once, as it had with Jade. Instead, his body seemed to fall in on itself, thickening to rip his expensive suit. Only then did his face begin to elongate and stretch as a thick fur rippled over his skin as if by magic.
And perhaps it was magic, she acknowledged with a shudder. Although it was a painful sort of magic if the popping and snapping of his bones was any indication.
There was perhaps a macabre beauty to the transformation, but Darcy couldn't deny a sudden, overwhelming relief that she had been genetically altered. The huge animal that now stood in the center of the room might possess a fierce strength and powers far beyond her own, but her puberty had been difficult enough without turning into a savage beast once a month.
Jeez. Talk about PMS.
Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, Darcy battled back her strange fascination. Already Salvatore was standing on his hind legs while his front paws darted deadly claws toward Styx.
She had to stop this.
She had to keep them from killing one another.
Stepping forward without the least idea of how she was going to accomplish the Herculean task, Darcy was nearly brought to her knees when Levet unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her legs and refused to let go.
"No, Darcy," he commanded.
She glanced down with an impatient frown. "Let me go, Levet. Someone's going to get hurt."
"Oui, and if you try to interfere it will be your beloved vampire," he rasped. "You will only distract him."
Her teeth snapped together as the truth of his words sank through her fog of fear.
Dang it, Levet was right.
The moment she placed herself in the least amount of danger Styx would shift his attention from attacking Salvatore to trying to protect her. He couldn't help himself.
It was like a whacky compulsion.
She pressed her hands to her racing heart as she was forced to watch the unfolding battle.
Styx had managed to loosen his large sword as Salvatore stalked a circle around him. Even against the pure-blooded Were, he appeared fierce and utterly invincible, but Darcy didn't miss his wariness as he waited for Salvatore to make his move.
No matter how formidable his skills, it was obvious he respected the danger that the Were posed.
Long claws scraped against the wooden floor as Salvatore feinted a charge and then leaped to the side as the sword slashed through the air. As he moved the Were snapped his teeth directly at Styx's neck.
Styx easily danced from the attack that would no doubt have torn out his throat, his sword altering course to strike directly at Salvatore's heart.
Smoothly the Were stepped out of the path of the sword, and with a movement too fast for the eye, he leaped over Styx and swiped his claws down the vampire's back.