But it wasn’t the whole Blade-vibe that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her innate powers stir in warning.
It was the grim, bronzed face that hinted of Aztec ancestors and the dark eyes that held an ancient knowledge. There was a cruelty etched in his handsome features that warned this vampire hadn’t earned his position as Anasso because of some stupid popularity contest.
He was the biggest, baddest, most ruthless demon going.
Period.
Strolling to stand directly in front of her, Styx turned his head toward Tane, a raven brow flicking upward as the younger vampire placed a protective arm around her shoulders.
“He was not the one to inform me of your imminent arrival, nor did he warn me that he intended to journey to Victor’s territory with a creature he was commanded to capture,” the Anasso drawled. “Something we’ll discuss in full detail at a more appropriate moment.”
Laylah stiffened. Dammit. It was moronic to be offended, but she was freaking sick of being treated as if she didn’t have feelings. Or pride.
“Creature?”
Tane’s arm tightened around her. “Laylah, maybe you should let me handle this.”
Styx’s power thickened until Laylah felt as if it might flay the skin from her body.
“You seek to challenge me, Charon?” he asked, oh so softly.
To his credit, Tane didn’t flinch. His manner, however, was one of wary respect. Smart vampire.
“I request the opportunity for an audience.”
Styx shot a brief glance toward Laylah. “Intriguing.” He paused before returning his attention to Tane. “And impressive. Not many vampires are suicidal enough to dangle a forbidden half-breed beneath the noses of the Oracles.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
Laylah parted her lips to inform the offensive duo that it was rude to talk about her as if she weren’t there, but before she could descend into complete madness, Levet charged forward, his wings flapping.
“Hey, where’s the Starbucks? A gargoyle cannot be expected to be civilized before his vanilla dolce latte.” He planted his fists on his hip. “And what about my Cinnabon? Where are the Cinnabons?”
Styx snapped humongous fangs at the gargoyle, but without warning the biting power eased and something that might have been resigned amusement flashed in the Anasso’s dark eyes.
“You really do enjoy living on the edge,” he told Tane in dry tones.
Tane snorted. “Victor threatened an international incident if I left him in London.”
Styx shook his head. “Why me?”
There was the unmistakable scent of Were before a tiny woman with short blonde hair and green eyes that dominated her heart-shaped face entered the hangar and crossed to stand at Styx’s side.
“Because you love me,” she said with a dimpled smile.
The towering vampire scowled, but not even the dimmest demon could fail to notice the warm adoration that softened his expression.
“I do, but I thought I asked you to wait in the car?”
“You didn’t ask, you commanded. And we both know how well I obey orders,” she said pertly, turning to grab Laylah’s hand. “Hi, you must be Laylah.”
Laylah struggled to find her voice. Although she knew that she’d never met the pretty Were, for a moment she’d been convinced that it was Harley walking toward her.
Up close she could see the subtle differences between this woman and the female Were that Caine kept as a heavily protected guest at his home, but the resemblance was still stunning.
“You’re …”
“Darcy,” the woman supplied, her smile filled with a friendliness that put Laylah on instant guard. She had ample experience at being feared, loathed, and kicked when she was down. But kindness? Not so much. “Harley’s twin sister.”
“Where is she?” she asked. Harley had been left behind when Caine and Laylah had headed to Hannibal, but since the cur had been stupid enough to try and kidnap the King of Weres, Laylah was fairly certain everything had gone to hell. “Is she okay?”
“She’s in Chicago.” Darcy chuckled. “And I suppose she’s okay considering she’s just accepted the position as the Queen of Weres.”
Laylah’s mouth fell open.
Now that was a shocker.
Caine had always been careful to keep Laylah isolated from his pack, but she’d heard the rumors that the King of Weres had murdered Harley’s family and intended to include Harley in his path of destruction once he found her.
Obviously the rumors were wrong, or Harley was a thrill-seeker on a massive scale. “She mated with Salvatore?”
Darcy nodded. “Crazy, isn’t it? But, she’s convinced she loves the arrogant pureblood.”
“I’m very happy for her,” Laylah murmured, telling herself the pang in the center of her heart wasn’t envy.
Didn’t she just do an inventory of her pile of problems?
Having a mate would only be the cherry on the top.
“She’s been worried about you.”
Laylah blinked. She and Harley had an odd, distant connection. But they hadn’t been BFFs.
“Really?”
“She made me promise that I would make sure that you weren’t being bullied by a bunch of overzealous vampires.”
“I have done my best to protect her,” Levet announced, waddling to lean against Laylah’s leg in a strangely touching gesture. “But you know how impossible vampires can be.”
Darcy glanced toward her mate. “Intimately.”
Styx reached to brush a tender hand down Darcy’s cheek. “My dear, perhaps we can finish this conversation in a more secure location?”
Laylah took an impulsive step backward, her momentary pleasure in knowing there were actually those who cared about her in the world forgotten in a tidal wave of fear.
“No.”
Tane tugged her back to his side, his body tightly coiled as if preparing to strike.
“Where do you intend to take her?” he growled.
“Easy, Tane.” Styx lifted a hand, the motion making the medallion that hung around his neck glow in the overhead lights. “For now I merely have a few questions for Laylah. She will be safe in my lair.”
Tane wasn’t satisfied. “Have you contacted the Oracles?”
Styx narrowed his gaze, ready and willing for a pissing match.
“Don’t press your luck, Charon.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, come with me Laylah.” Muttering under her breath at the stunning lack of intelligence among the male gender, Darcy hooked her arm through Laylah’s and tugged her toward the nearest door. “We’ll let the men huff and puff in privacy.”