“Not at the time, although he’s become reconciled to his position now that Abby is the new Chalice.” Styx’s expression eased. “They’ve recently mated.”
Harley didn’t fully understand the whole goddess and Chalice thing, but she did grasp the most pertinent fact.
“If Abby’s carrying this Goddess, then Briggs can’t be hooked up with a demon lord, right?”
“I never underestimate a determined demon lord. They have the means to use others to accomplish their goals, and are always swift to take advantage of any weakness.” Styx came to an abrupt halt, the cool brush of his power making her shiver. “I need to speak with Abby.”
“You think she’s falling down on the job?”
He laughed with genuine amusement. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to point it out. Abby has the power to toast demons.”
“Literally toast them?”
“Literally.”
Harley made a mental note to avoid the woman.
“Why do you want to speak with her?”
“I hope she can convince me that my fears are a figment of my imagination.”
Harley’s heart plummeted and her mouth went dry at the dark edge of concern in his voice. What the hell would scare the King of Vampires?
“Are demon lords so dangerous?”
“There are many who believe they are our ultimate creators. Which means they could also be our ultimate destroyers.”
Without thought, Harley was charging to the door. Crap. Crap. Crap. This was so much worse than a demented Were who refused to stay dead.
“I have to warn Salvatore.”
She heard the tiny tinkle of the bronzed medallions threaded through Styx’s braid, but she couldn’t track his movement until he was standing directly in front of her, blocking her path to the door.
“Hold on, Harley.” He grabbed her arms as she attempted to dart around him. “This is nothing more than idle speculation. Jumping to conclusions is worse than doing nothing.”
She struggled to free herself from his grasp, her temper exploding.
“You wouldn’t be waffling if it was one of your precious vampires in danger,” she gritted. “You would be charging to the rescue.”
A raven brow flicked upward. “I am not a vampire who waffles. I am attempting to discover who or what is threatening Salvatore, and if it poses a danger to other demons.”
“Fine. You do whatever it is you have to do and I’ll be on my merry way.”
“Where do you intend to go?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does.” He flashed a hint of fang. More out of annoyance than intimidation. Or at least, Harley hoped so. “Salvatore demanded my promise that I would keep you safe. I intend to honor my vow.”
“It’s not his call. Or yours.” She jutted her chin. She’d allowed fear to keep her prisoner for thirty years. She was done hiding from the world. Even if that world was terrifyingly dangerous. “No man’s going to tell me what I can or can’t do. Not anymore.”
His expression tightened, but before he could say anything truly stupid, the door to the bedroom was thrown open and a slender replica of herself walked in.
No, not a precise replica, Harley realized, her gaze skimming over the blond hair that was cut short and spiky and the delicate face that was just a trace more heart-shaped, with eyes that were more green than hazel.
Still, the resemblance was stunning.
Harley watched her sister approach, her stomach twisting with an odd combination of emotions.
What the hell was she supposed to feel?
Joy? Disbelief? Regret?
A raging identity crisis?
With a shake of her head, she decided that she would figure out what to feel later. For now all that mattered was getting out of the marble mausoleum and finding Salvatore.
Clearly unafraid of the towering predator who could easily rip out her throat or simply squash her with one of his massive fists, Darcy crossed to stab her mate with a stern gaze.
“Styx, I wish to speak with my sister.”
He dipped his head in instant agreement. “Very well, my love.”
“Alone.”
The vampire’s starkly beautiful features tightened, but astonishingly, he headed obediently toward the door.
“I’ll be downstairs. I need Dante to bring Abby here.”
Darcy’s brows lifted in surprise. “Abby?”
“I have a few questions for her.”
Harley’s sister pointed a finger at her mate. “Please remember to make it an invitation, not a royal command.”
A smile curved the vampire’s lips even as he assumed an arrogant expression.
“What is the benefit of being the Anasso if I can’t issue royal commands?”
Darcy chuckled. “I’ll remind you of a few benefits later.”
“You think you can use such a shameless ploy to control me?” he demanded, his fangs extending and his voice thickening with tangible desire.
“Yes.”
“You’re right.” Without the least embarrassment at acknowledging his mate’s power, Styx offered Harley a small dip of his head. “Sister-mate, welcome to our home.”
Waiting until the frightening vampire had stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind his retreating form, Darcy moved to take Harley’s hand in a light grasp, her smile apologetic.
“He promised he only wished to ask you a few questions. I should have known he’d try to bully you.” She rolled her eyes. “Vampires.”
Harley’s wariness eased at her sister’s teasing. Attired in a faded pair of jeans and casual white shirt, with her sweet smile, she didn’t look like the Queen of Vampires.
Actually she looked like a high school cheerleader who should be working on her algebra and dating the quarterback.
“Trust me, Weres aren’t any different,” Harley countered.
“You’re right. It’s men in general.”
“All that testosterone putrefies their brains.”
They shared the universal sigh of female resignation at the follies of men.
“I’m Darcy.” Her sister squeezed her fingers. “And you’re a most honored guest in my home, sister.”
Harley pulled her hand free, bothered by the strange sense of connection flowing through her blood at Darcy’s touch.
As delighted as she was to meet her sister, she wasn’t ready to lower her guard. Darcy was, after all, bound to the vampires. Her loyalty would be to her mate and his people.