“They can speak with the dead.” Tane shuddered at the unexpected revelation. “Charming.”
“More than charming,” Styx said. “They can compel spirits into their service.”
“Are you saying they have ghost slaves?”
Styx held up a warning hand. “Don’t dismiss the danger, Tane. There are spirits who can cause damage even to a vampire. And the more powerful shades are capable of pulling souls into the underworld.”
Tane had heard of demons who possessed the talent of necromancy, but they could rarely do more than communicate with those who’d passed to the underworld.
To actually be able to take command of a shade …
He abruptly stiffened. “Damn.”
“What is it?”
“Jaelyn must be warned,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Styx soothed. “I’ve sent DeAngelo and Xander to track her.”
Tane shook his head. Jaelyn was a genuine pain in the ass, but she was a true born Hunter.
“They’ll never find her.”
Styx regarded him with a curious expression. “She’s that good?”
“The best I’ve ever encountered.”
“Excellent.” The Anasso smiled. “I have need of a Hunter. Perhaps I’ll invite her to join my Ravens.”
Tane snorted, trying to imagine the prickly female trying to make nice with the massive, overly arrogant vampires that made up Styx’s bodyguard.
Blood would most certainly flow.
“Better you than me.”
“Why?”
“She has the attitude of a rabid badger.”
Styx was unfazed. “I remember another vampire with impressive skills and a nasty attitude,” he murmured. “I had to kick his ass on a regular basis, but eventually I managed to tame him.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I just found the means to focus his feral nature.”
Tane grimaced. He rarely thought back to those days. After he was forced to kill Sung Li, he’d retreated from the world, living as little better than a rabid animal in the caves of northern Mongolia.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed when Styx made his first appearance, but he did know that he’d done his best to kill the massive Aztec. He didn’t know that Styx was a servant of the previous Anasso, and wouldn’t have given a shit if he did. He would have been happy if the unknown vampire had managed to put an end to his miserable existence.
But Styx didn’t strike the killing blow.
Instead he retreated, only to return the next night, sitting on a rock near Tane’s cave and eventually leaving behind a blanket. The next night he had settled a few feet closer and left behind a stack of books. The next night it had been clean clothing.
His patience had been remarkable, and slowly he’d earned enough of Tane’s trust to lead him back into civilization. And eventually he’d trained him to become his Charon.
At the time Tane hadn’t known why the vampire would make such an effort.
It was only in the past months that he’d discovered that two of them had committed the same fatal sin.
Styx had covered the madness of the previous Anasso until it was nearly too late.
They shared a sense of gnawing guilt and regret that no one else could truly understand.
“I have never …”
“Hell, no,” Styx cut in, his brows snapping together in a scowl of warning. “If you start with any touchy-feely crap I’m tossing your ass out of here.”
“I owe you my life,” Tane pressed. “It won’t be forgotten.”
“You have repaid any debt several times over.” Styx paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Of course, now I suppose I shall have to choose a new Charon.”
“Yes.” Tane smiled, realizing he no longer had the driving need to purge his guilt. Laylah had healed the wounds that plagued him for so long. “I intend to devote myself to my mate once we’re done with this mess.”
A mysterious smile touched Styx’s lips. “We’ll see.”
Tane froze. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I always have need of loyal vampires.”
“I don’t think Laylah would be any happier with me becoming one of your Ravens.”
An evil glint entered the ancient vampire’s eyes. “I was thinking more as a liaison to the Commission.”
Tane made a sound of choked disbelief. Styx wanted him to negotiate with a group of powerful demons who could turn him into a toad on a whim?
No. Way.
“I’d rather have my head chopped off,” he said, meaning every word. Styx shrugged. “We can discuss it later.”
“We can discuss it never,” he growled, heading for the door. Obviously the Anasso had lost his damned mind. “Now I’m going to join my mate before you suggest I become a translator for the hellhounds.”
Styx chuckled. “I’ll have dinner sent to your room at dusk.”
Tane glanced over his shoulder. “Make sure there’s German chocolate cake. Laylah loves cake.”
“I did not become the most powerful mage in the world to tromp through damp woods,” Sergei whined, looking decidedly worse for the wear with his hair hanging loosely around his thin face and his expensive clothing stained beyond repair. “My shoes are completely ruined.”
Marika was no happier when Sergei’s spell finally picked up Laylah’s trail only to discover it led her straight back to the lair of the Anasso.
The one place certain Marika couldn’t follow.
Aggravating little bitch.
But whatever her annoyance, she was too wise to reveal any lack of confidence in her ultimate glory in front of the Sylvermyst that she’d commanded to surround and keep watch on the Chicago estate.
It was bad enough that their leader, Ariyal, had disappeared during their battle with the wood sprites. The ridiculous fey had been convinced that it was a bad omen. She wasn’t going to have Sergei’s petulant behavior further undermine their belief in her leadership.
A pity she still had need of the idiot.
She would take great pleasure in offering him as a public sacrifice.
“Shut up, you moron,” she hissed, standing near the edge of the tree line, trusting that Sergei’s cloak of concealment would keep them hidden from the Anasso’s Ravens. “You have done nothing but complain since leaving London.”
His lips thinned with childish resentment. “I possess a fragile constitution.”
“You are an embarrassment to mages everywhere,” Marika mocked. “Even the fey consider you a spineless fool.”