“I witnessed him coming through the rift with the Dark Lord, but how the hell did he survive the battle?”
“Actually, he only survived in part.”
Santiago struggled against the sensation he was standing on quicksand. “What the hell does that mean?”
“This Sally said that Gaius was acting strange.”
“He’s been acting strange for centuries,” Santiago muttered. “The treacherous bastard.”
“She said that he looked filthy and confused,” Styx continued, his watchful gaze never wavering from Santiago’s bitter expression. “And she was certain he didn’t recognize her.”
Santiago frowned, more baffled by the claim that Gaius had been filthy than his supposed confusion. His sire had always been meticulous. And Santiago’s brief glimpse of Gaius’s lair beyond the Veil had only emphasized the elder vampire’s OCD.
“Was he injured?”
“According to the witch, he looked like he was under a compulsion.”
“Impossible. Gaius is far too powerful to have his mind controlled.”
“It depends on who is doing the controlling,” Styx pointed out. “Sally also said that he was obviously trying to protect something or someone he had hidden in the house.”
With a low curse Santiago shifted his gaze to make sure the door was closed. No need to cause a panic.
“The Dark Lord?”
“No.” Styx gave a firm shake of his head. “The Oracles are certain the Dark Lord is well and truly dead.”
Santiago’s stab of relief was offset by Styx’s grim expression. The Dark Lord might be dead, but Styx clearly was afraid something was controlling Gaius.
“You’ve spoken to the Oracles?”
Styx grimaced. “Unfortunately. Since my first thought was like yours, that he’d managed to salvage some small part of the Dark Lord, I naturally went to the Commission with my fears.”
“And?”
The room suddenly filled with a power that made the lights flicker and the computer monitors shut down.
“And they politely told me to mind my own business.”
He gave a sharp laugh. How many times had Styx been told to mind his own business? Santiago was going with the number zero.
“How many did you kill?”
“None.” Styx’s crushing power continued to throb through the room. “My temper is . . .”
“Cataclysmic?” Santiago helpfully offered.
“Healthy,” Styx corrected. “But, I’m not suicidal.”
That was true enough. The King of Vampires might approach diplomacy like a bull in a china shop, but he was too shrewd to confront the Commission head-on.
No. He wouldn’t challenge the Oracles, but then again, Santiago didn’t believe for a second he was going to sit back and meekly obey their command.
Obey and Styx shouldn’t be used in the same sentence.
“If this is none of your business, why did you come to me?” he demanded.
“Because Gaius is one of mine, no matter what he’s done,” Styx said, his face as hard as granite. “And if he’s being controlled by something or someone, I want to know what the hell is going on.”
“What about the Oracles?”
“What they don’t know . . .” Styx tossed Santiago’s words back in his face.
Santiago narrowed his eyes. It was one thing to sneak a bottle of tequila from Viper’s cellars and another to piss off the Oracles.
“And you chose me because . . . ?”
“You’re the only one capable of tracking Gaius.”
Santiago shook his head. “The bastard did something to mask his scent along with our previous bonding. I don’t have any better chance of finding him than you do.”
Styx’s smile sent a chill down Santiago’s spine. “I have full faith you’ll find some way to hunt him down. And, of course, do it without drawing unnecessary attention.”
Great.
Not only was he being sent on a wild goose chase, but he was in danger of attracting the lethal anger of the Oracles.
Just what he didn’t need.
With his hands on his hips, Santiago glared at his companion. “So you’re not willing to risk the wrath of the Commission, but you’re willing to throw me under the bus?”
“Don’t be an ass.” Styx allowed his power to slam into Santiago, making him grunt in pain. “If you don’t want to do this, then don’t. I thought you would be eager for the opportunity to be reunited with your sire.”
Santiago held up a hand in apology. Mierda. He truly was on the edge of sanity to deliberately goad the King of Vampires.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said. And it was true. Styx was right. He’d waited centuries for the opportunity to confront his sire. Now he’d been given a second chance. Why wasn’t he leaping at the opportunity? “It’s—” He broke off with a shake of his head.
“Yes?”
“Nothing.” He pulled out his cell phone, concentrating on what needed to be accomplished before he could head out. “I need to contact Tonya to warn her she’ll be in charge of the club.”
“Of course.”
“Where’s the witch?”
“She’s at my lair in Chicago. Roke is keeping an eye on her in case this turns out to be a clever trick.”
Santiago sent his companion a startled glance. Roke, the clan chief from Nevada, was in an even fouler mood than Santiago since Styx had refused his return to his clan after Cassandra had revealed that she’d seen Roke in one of her visions.
“The poor witch,” he muttered. “That’s not a punishment I would wish on anyone.”
Styx shrugged. “He was the only one available.”
Santiago froze. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”
A strange expression tightened Styx’s lean features. Was it . . . embarrassment?
“Darcy insists that I devote my Ravens to trying to locate that damned gargoyle.”
Ah. Santiago struggled to hide his sudden smile. The Ravens were Styx’s private guards. The biggest, meanest vampires around. The fact he was being forced to use them to locate a three-foot gargoyle who’d been a pain in Styx’s ass for the past year must be driving him nuts.
“Levet is still missing?” he murmured. The tiny gargoyle had astonishingly played a major part in destroying the Dark Lord, but shortly after the battle he’d disappeared into thin air. Quite literally.