“Guest or prisoner?” she demanded.
“Never a prisoner, Harley. I promise.”
Unnerved to be staring into a face so remarkably similar to her own, Harley paced toward the tall arched windows. Night had recently fallen, bathing the rolling parkland that surrounded the mansion in velvet shadows, but in the distance Harley could see the Chicago skyline strikingly outlined in lights.
At any other time she might have appreciated the beautiful view. She rarely had had the opportunity to spend time in a large, vibrant city that offered endless entertainment. But not tonight.
There was a disturbing emptiness in the center of her being that was making her twitchy as hell. She needed to be out of the elegant mansion and on the hunt.
Now.
“Is our other sister here as well?” she demanded, as much to know how many others might try to stand in her path as in genuine curiosity.
Later she would appreciate the sisters she thought she’d lost.
“No, Regan left earlier today.” Darcy heaved a loud sigh. “Like you, she seemed to believe I was secretly plotting to hold her against her will. I really am a nice person. I only want to get to know my sisters.”
Harley turned with a frown. “I thought she was in love or mated to a vampire or something?”
“She’ll be mated once she stops running from fate. Poor Jagr.” The green eyes narrowed as Darcy studied her with unnerving intensity. “And speaking of matings…”
Harley shifted, feeling like a dork as a heat flooded her cheeks.
She hadn’t grown up with sisters or best friends. She hadn’t gone to sleepovers where she could giggle and talk about boys.
Her private feelings had always been that. Private.
She wasn’t ready to discuss whatever was happening between her and Salvatore.
“I’m not mated.”
“No, but Salvatore has marked you.” Darcy’s gaze never wavered. “You know how amazing this is, don’t you?”
“It’s not something I’ve given a lot of thought to. We’ve been a little busy,” Harley pointed out dryly.
“Yes.” Darcy flashed her sweet smile. “Levet did say you were escaping from the curs who were holding you captive.”
“Levet.” Harley happily latched onto the opportunity to deflect her sister’s attention. “Good God, I forgot about the poor thing. Is he here?”
“No, and to be honest I’m worried about him.” There was no mistaking Darcy’s genuine concern. “He contacted Shay when he first escaped the tunnels, but we haven’t heard from him since. It’s not like him to just disappear.”
Harley grimaced, a sudden stab of guilt piercing her heart. They should never have allowed the poor little gargoyle to go off alone.
“He might have been captured by Caine.”
“Would the curs hurt him?”
Despite his reputation, Caine wasn’t completely amoral. But nothing was allowed to threaten his precious dreams of immortality.
“Caine’s more likely to hold him captive if he thinks the gargoyle could bring him leverage against Salvatore or the vampires.”
They exchanged rueful glances, both knowing Salvatore or the vamps wouldn’t lift a finger to save the miniature demon.
“And if there is no leverage?” Darcy demanded.
“Then all bets are off.”
“Crap.” Darcy wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m not going to be happy if Levet is hurt.”
Oddly, Harley realized she, too, was worried about the gargoyle. He didn’t deserve to be caught in nasty Were politics.
“I’ll do what I can to discover what’s happened to him,” she promised.
Darcy bit her lower lip, looking far from reassured.
“Harley, I understand if you want revenge after being held prisoner by Caine for so long, but I can’t bear the thought of you putting yourself in danger. If you’ll wait, I’m certain we can figure out a suitable punishment together.”
Punishment? Harley’s brows snapped together. As if she’d waste a minute plotting revenge on the curs.
“Thanks, but I don’t give a crap about Caine.”
“Then why are you so anxious to leave?”
“Because Salvatore’s an idiot and the vampires are jackasses.”
“Okay,” Darcy said slowly. “I don’t disagree, but maybe you could be more specific. Why is Salvatore an idiot?”
Harley’s lips twisted in a humorless smile.
Oh, let her count the ways.
She chose the most pressing stupidity.
“He’s out there trying to stop some mutant freak who might or might not be a puppet of a demon lord.”
“And the vampires?”
“They won’t do a damned thing to stop his suicide mission.”
Darcy was smart enough not to pretend that Styx possessed any warm and fussy feelings for Salvatore. Or that the vamps would charge to the rescue.
“What do you intend to do?”
“Find Salvatore.”
“And then?”
“That’s as far as my plan goes.”
Darcy grasped Harley’s hands and regarded her with a somber expression.
“Harley, will you trust me?”
Harley stiffened. “I’ve heard those words before.”
“Will you?” Darcy squeezed her fingers. “Please?”
There was a short, uncomfortable silence before Harley heaved a noisy sigh.
“Dammit, I’m going to regret this.”
Chapter Sixteen
If Caine’s nerves hadn’t been scraped raw, he might have found humor in the journey through the dark, narrow tunnel that burrowed deep beneath the abandoned graveyard.
It was straight out of a B horror flick.
A brewing storm. Creepy caves. Monsters lurking in the dark.
All he needed was a half-dressed woman screaming at the top of her lungs and a stoner friend wandering off to get chopped in half.
As it was, he didn’t find anything remotely funny about leading the four furious curs through the echoing darkness, his skin crawling at the evil that pulsed through the labyrinth of caverns.
He suddenly realized he knew exactly how a condemned man felt walking to the execution chamber.
Clenching his jaw, he held the gun he’d loaded with silver bullets and glanced over his shoulder at the curs who grudgingly followed behind him.
It hadn’t been a difficult task to capture Salvatore’s faithful servants. Or even to keep them suitably leashed once his own curs had clamped heavy silver collars around their necks. For the moment they were so weak they could barely put one foot in front of another.