Darcy let out a squeak of alarm, but with Levet clamped onto her legs, she was unable to rush forward.
Styx stumbled, but with alarming grace he was spinning about, the sword slicing through Salvatore's side before the Were could leap back.
They continued circling one another, but even in the darkness Darcy could smell the unmistakable odor of blood. Both vampire and Were.
"Levet," she rasped, "do something."
His short fingers dug into her thighs. "I cannot, cherie. It will be over soon."
"When Styx is dead?" she hissed.
"He will not fail, Darcy," the gargoyle promised. "You must have faith."
"Faith."
She pressed her hands to her lips as Salvatore made another charge, the force of his movement sending both combatants onto the floor. The wooden planks groaned in protest as they rolled over and over, their fangs sinking deep into one another as they both sought to strike the killing blow. Or in this case, the killing bite.
Darcy's stomach clenched as the smell of blood became strong enough to choke her. They were both taking injuries. Some of them ghastly enough to threaten their very existence.
A howl split the air as Salvatore gave a mighty shove and managed to roll on top of Styx and pin him to the floor. In the shadows she could make out the muscles bulging beneath the thick fur that covered Salvatore's body and the white flash of his long teeth.
Even worse she could swear that the black eyes were smoldering with a very human hatred.
He wanted Styx dead. And it went way beyond his need for her.
Unaware that tears were dampening her cheeks, Darcy bit her lip and shifted her attention to Styx. There were streaks of blood on his bronzed skin and a tightness to his features that revealed he wasn't impervious to his wounds. But his expression was more one of grim determination than fear.
Silently she willed her strength to him. A futile task, no doubt, but at the moment she could do little else.
Sensing he held the advantage, Salvatore opened his jaws wide preparing to strike at Styx's vulnerable throat Darcy gasped, horrified by the length of the Were's teeth. They could surely cause more harm than Styx could possibly heal.
Her scream was lodged in her throat when Salvatore darted his head downward. In that precise moment Styx wrested his arm free and plunged his sword through the back of the Were.
Terror turned to horror as Darcy watched the silver blade slide through Salvatore's body and protrude from his chest.
Oh, cripes.
A howl echoed through the room as Salvatore tumbled backward off of Styx and curled onto his side. The blood gushed from his wound even as a shimmer surrounded his body.
Darcy knew what was about to occur before his body ever began its shift back to human form. It prickled through her blood as if calling to her.
It was a slow and painful transformation, and Darcy's tender heart was breaking as Styx rose to his feet and casually moved to pull his sword free of the Were's body.
No matter what Salvatore had done to her, or even the fact that he had so recently been attempting to kill Styx, she couldn't make herself feel anything but pity-as he shuddered in agony.
Her hands lowered to grip Levet's shoulders as Styx stood over his vanquished opponent, his sword held in a formal position in front of his body and his expression coldly aloof. It was impossible to know what was passing through his mind as he stared down at the now naked man King at his feet.
As if aware of Styx's looming form, Salvatore gave a choked cough and forced open his eyes.
"End it, vampire," he muttered.
Offering a faint bow, Styx began to raise his sword.
"Styx . . . no!" Darcy cried, relieved when Levet grudgingly released his imprisoning hold so she could move forward. With stumbling steps, she reached Styx's side and grasped his arm. "Please, don't kill him."
For a heartbeat Darcy thought that Styx intended to ignore her plea. Standing so close to him, she couldn't foil to sense the taut fury that radiated from his stiff body.
After a tension-fraught moment, the dark head slowly turned and pinned her with a smoldering gaze.
"He will remain a threat to you as long as he lives," he growled.
A wise woman would have immediately fled from the sight of Styx's fully extended fangs and blood-splattered face. There was a savagery in the cast of his features that would terrify the stoutest heart.
She didn't so much as flinch, however, as she pressed her fingers into the granite hardness of his arm.
She would never fear this man.
Not even when he was in full vampire mode.
"He can't hurt me as long as I have you to protect me," she pointed out softly. "Please."
He glared down at her pleading expression before he gave a low hiss of annoyance.
"Bloody hell." Lowering his sword, he shifted his glare to the wounded Salvatore. "Remember this, wolf, if you so much as cross paths with Darcy I will not hesitate. You will be dead before you can take a breath."
With a low groan the Were managed to push himself to a half-seated position. Since he was completely nude it was easy to see that his wound was beginning to knit together, although he was far from healed.
His head hung down, his black hair covering his narrow face.
"Save your threats. I have failed. Soon enough the Weres will be extinct and the vampires can rejoice in our passing."
Styx narrowed his gaze, his jaw tightening at the bitter charge. "I have no desire to see the end of the Weres."
Salvatore gave a short laugh that ended in a painful cough. Darcy winced in sympathy. "Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe. You have imprisoned us to the point that we are incapable of producing children."
"You blame us for your lack of offspring?" Styx demanded.
"The doctors have confirmed my theory." Salvatore slowly lifted his head, his face pale but his golden eyes flashing with anger. "The wolves were meant to roam free. By keeping us caged you have slowly stolen our traditional powers. The most important of which is our females' ability to control their shifts during pregnancy."
Styx fell silent as he considered the ominous words. Then his expression hardened as he realized what Salvatore's words revealed.
"That's why you desired Darcy?"
Salvatore shrugged, clearly past caring who knew his plans. "Yes. She was . . . altered so that her werewolf traits were suppressed."
Levet made a disgusted sound. "That's why I couldn't tell what she was."
Styx's gaze never left the Were crouched on the floor.
Instinctively Darcy grasped his arm tighter, sensing his desire to finish what he had begun.