“If I wanted my tires rotated I would call a mechanic,” Styx informed him without apology. “I expect my clan chiefs to perform miracles.”
“No shit,” Roke muttered.
Styx waved an impatient hand. He could feel the relentless ticking of the clock beating against him. “Well?”
Roke stood with a quiet confidence that went deeper than his position as vampire or clan chief. He was a lethal predator to the very bones. “We can’t force her out of her lair.”
Viper pulled away from Styx’s grip, his expression mocking. “Genius.”
Roke curled his lips to expose his fangs. “At least one of us has brains.”
Styx muttered a foul curse, giving another wave of his hand. “Continue.”
Roke returned his attention to Styx, although he looked like he would rather continue bantering with his fellow clan chief.
Not a good sign.
“So we have to offer her a temptation too great to resist,” Roke said.
There was an empty silence as Styx waited for more, swiftly followed by Viper’s sound of disgust.
“That’s it?”
“Viper,” Styx growled, more to prevent yet another headache-inducing squabble than to protest his skepticism. He wasn’t too enthused about the vague solution either.
“Fine,” Viper snapped, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. “What temptation would lure the psycho bastard . . . wait, the psycho bitch, from her bat cave?”
“The person who locked her in her bat cave in the first place,” Roke smoothly retorted.
Viper frowned. “The Phoenix?”
“No.” Styx’s voice filled the air with a frigid power that shattered the overhead chandelier and coated the marble figurines with ice. “No way.”
Roke stood unflinching, his raven hair blowing around his lean face as the power rushed over him. “You asked for a suggestion, I gave you one.”
Styx clutched his hands. The Phoenix was too vital to the future of the world to risk her in such a dangerous gamble.
“Not one that’s feasible,” he rasped. “Return to Cezar and—”
“Wait, Styx,” Viper interrupted, his expression grim.
“What?”
“As much as I hate to agree with Roke on anything, I have to admit his suggestion has merit. We should at least discuss the idea.”
Styx hissed in shock. Was Viper suggesting that they offer up Abby like a sacrificial lamb?
“Before or after Dante chops off your head?” he snarled.
Viper glanced toward the vampire standing silently near the door.
“Roke, will you give us a minute?” Viper’s words were more a command than a request.
The clan chief paused, then with a glance toward Styx’s dangerously composed expression, he gave a sharp nod. “I’ll be in the library.”
Viper waited until Roke was out of the room and headed down the hallway before he stepped toward Styx.
“No,” Styx growled, holding up a warning hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
The younger vampire planted his hands on his hips, his expression warning it was going to take violence to halt him from sharing his opinion. “Styx, you are without a doubt the finest Anasso to ever lead the vampires.”
“You think you can sway me with flattery?”
“I’m not done.”
Styx snorted. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“I was about to say that what makes you such a great leader is also your greatest weakness.”
“And what’s that?”
“Loyalty.”
Styx froze, catapulted back in time to when he was the trusted servant of the previous Anasso. He’d been a savage until the master had recruited him to become his soldier in the fight to pull the vampires out of the dark ages.
It hadn’t been pretty. Nefri had led her clan beyond the Veil to create peace among her people; Styx’s master, on the other hand, had used brute force and intimidation.
But it had worked. At least marginally. They were, after all, feral creatures.
Unfortunately, at some point the ancient vampire had become infected by the blood of human drug addicts. Styx had tried his best to save his master from his own weakness, even to the point of hiding the Anasso’s growing madness from others, but in the end there had been no choice but to put him out of his misery.
“This isn’t the same.”
“Isn’t it?” Viper demanded. The Chicago clan chief had been witness to Styx’s conflicted battle between allegiance and duty. “Your heart was convinced that protecting your mentor was what was best for the vampires even though your head understood what had to be done.”
Styx narrowed his gaze. Nothing was ever black-and-white. A good leader understood that he had to make decisions among the various shades of gray.
“And if we were speaking of using Shay as bait,” he bit out.
Viper’s midnight eyes flared with an instinctive fury, but with an obvious effort, he refused to be swayed. “I would try to kill you,” he admitted in cold tones. “But your duty isn’t just to me. Or Shay. Or Abby.”
Spinning on his heel, Styx stomped across the room, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. “Damn you.”
“Trust me, I don’t like this any better than you,” Viper continued to press. “Dante has been a brother to me for a very long time and Abby has become as dear to me as a sister. The thought of putting her in danger makes me want to ram my head through a wall. But can we destroy the world because we don’t like the choices we’re given?”
Styx wanted to block out the compelling words. An Anasso was supposed to protect his people, not put innocents in the direct line of fire.
A damned shame that Viper had a point.
Could he truly put the future of the world in jeopardy if there was the slightest chance to alter fate?
Feeling every one of his numerous years weighing down on him, Styx forced himself to turn back to his companion. “Even if I do agree to this madness and we manage to keep Dante from disappearing with his mate, we have no guarantee that the Dark Lord will give a shit about Abby,” he pointed out. “The creature has to know the Phoenix is in the world, but she hasn’t shown any interest in her before now.”
Viper nodded. “True, but the Dark Lord has always been a victim of his”—he made a sound of annoyance—“I mean her bloated pride. If she caught a scent of the Phoenix near the rift, her desire for revenge might overcome her need for caution.”