One arrogant king was obviously just like another.
Whether they were vamp or Were.
Abby shrugged, her expression troubled. “It’s not out of the ordinary, but I do sense something I can only describe as…evil. I’ve felt it ever since I became the Chalice, so to be honest, I’ve learned to ignore it.”
“Do you sense which direction it comes from?”
“I can do better than that. I can tell you exactly where it comes from.”
“Where?”
“The caves where we fought the dark prince.”
Harley took an instinctive step backwards as the two vamps stiffened in shock. She didn’t know anything about the caves or dark prince, but it clearly struck a nerve.
“Bloody hell,” Dante muttered.
Abby shivered, nestling closer to her mate. “That’s why I’ve always dismissed the creepy sensations. I assumed it was some sort of residual nastiness from the mages.”
Styx narrowed his eyes. “The mages.”
“They’re dead,” Dante said, his voice flat and cold.
Definitely a story there.
“Unless they had a backup team,” Abby pointed out.
The suggestion was enough to make Dante’s fangs lengthen and his silver eyes flash with an eagerness to kill.
“You think someone else is trying to open the portal between dimensions?” he demanded of his king.
“It’s possible, although I think it more likely that a demon lord managed to discover an anchor in this world before the portal was closed,” Styx said grimly.
A chill shot down Harley’s spine. Holy crap. That couldn’t be good.
“What’s an anchor?” Harley asked.
“A lesser creature who accepts a portion of the demon lord’s power. If the bond is strong enough it would allow the demon to continue to touch this world even after the goddess was summoned, although not directly.”
“The King of Weres,” Harley breathed.
Darcy regarded her in startled disbelief. “Salvatore?”
“No, the one before him. Mackenzie.” Wrapping her arms around her waist, Harley returned to her pacing, attempting to remember precisely what Salvatore had said about the previous king. “Salvatore suspected that something was wrong with him before he died. But why would a demon lord give a Were power? What’s in it for him?”
“The demon lord is capable of controlling his anchor and forcing him to do his bidding, but more importantly, he can siphon the life force of his victim,” Styx answered.
Harley came to an abrupt halt. “Life force?”
Styx shrugged. “Chi…soul…whatever you want to call it.”
“And it gives him power?”
“Yes.”
Darcy moved to grab her hand, her eyes dark with concern. “What are you thinking, Harley?”
An awful, horrible dread curled through the pit of her belly. She met Styx’s searching gaze.
“Caine always said that Salvatore’s strength came from his position as king. Is that true?”
“Salvatore is the strongest of the Weres or he would never have been able to claim the throne, but he is able to call on his pack when necessary.”
“So, he’s connected to them?”
“Of course…” Styx bit off his words, his features bleak. “Damn. The bastard has been draining the Weres. That’s why they’ve lost their ancient magic.”
Dante nodded. “It would explain a great deal.”
“But the previous king is dead, and I can’t believe Salvatore is willing to deal with a demon lord,” Darcy pointed out.
“He would never put his people at risk,” Harley snapped, unconsciously rushing to Salvatore’s defense. “It’s Briggs who has the black magic.”
Darcy gave her fingers a squeeze, but surprisingly it was Styx who offered reassurance.
“No one would suspect Salvatore of sharing power with a demon lord.” His lips twisted in a humorless smile. “Hell, he’s far too arrogant to share power with anyone.”
“Which must make him a pain in the ass if there’s a demon lord lurking out there,” Dante said. “Not only does his position as king prevent the bastard from drawing energy from the Were packs, but he has enough innate strength to threaten to bring back the ancient powers.”
“It would certainly be a reason for someone to want Salvatore dead,” Styx agreed.
Dante snorted. “Just one of many.”
Harley sent him a warning glare. “Hey.”
The vampire lifted his hands in a gesture of peace, his earrings glinting in the light of the Venetian chandeliers. “Sorry.”
“No one gets to kill him but me,” she informed her companions, pulling away from Darcy as she was struck by the sudden, vicious sensation that Salvatore was in trouble. God. It might be ridiculous, but she could physically feel his pain. “As soon as I track him down. So if you’ll excuse me. I really have to go.”
She was headed toward the door when Styx moved to stand directly in her path.
“Wait, Harley.”
With no choice, she came to a halt. She might like to think of herself as a badass, but she wasn’t suicidal enough to try to wrestle her way past the most dangerous demon in all the world.
“Please, I’ve wasted too much time already,” she whispered. The need to get to Salvatore was becoming downright unbearable.
“When I spoke with Salvatore, he said that the Were pursuing the two of you was a projection.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s any less dangerous.”
“No, but it does mean that his physical body has to be somewhere. My bet would be that he’s remaining close to the protection of his master.”
She frowned, attempting to follow his logic. “The caves?”
“Yes.”
“It’s strange,” Abby muttered. “Why would this demon lord choose the same place to hide as the dark prince?”
“I suppose it’s possible that a portion of the dark magic lingers and attracts evil. Or maybe the mages chose the location because the barrier between dimensions is thinner there. We shall soon discover.” Styx grasped her shoulders. “Will you join us, Harley?”
Chapter Seventeen
Salvatore had to force himself to enter the labyrinth beneath the abandoned graveyard.
Dio, he was sick to freaking death of dark, dank tunnels. Once he killed Briggs he intended to spend the next century running beneath open skies.