“Dammit,” Roke hissed.


Styx straightened, his warrior features carved from granite. “You’re right, we do need to speak.”


Sally sucked in an unsteady breath as the two men turned, clearly preparing to leave the dungeons without her.


“Roke, if you abandon me here I swear I won’t help with the book.”


Styx halted, sending her a puzzled frown. “What book?” “Sally,” Roke growled.


She slammed her hands onto her hips. It was no doubt suicidal to challenge two of the most powerful vampires she’d ever met, but the mere thought of being locked away overcame any claim to sanity.


“I mean it,” she snapped.


The dark band around the pale, pale eyes narrowed, a sure sign of annoyance. “You aren’t the only witch.”


“Maybe not, but you’ll never find another who has my power, or my familiarity with black magic,” she reminded him. It wasn’t bragging. The gods knew she hated her connection to black magic. It was the simple truth. “You need me.”


For a second they glared at one another in silence, then realizing he was going to eventually need her help, he conceded defeat with all his usual grace.


“Shit,” he growled, turning to stomp his way toward the dungeon door. “She’s coming with us.”


Peaches.


Roke clenched his teeth as they entered Styx’s private study and the large vampire shut the door behind them.


He was furious with the female. Hell, furious didn’t even cover it. She’d bespelled him, forced him to act against his will, mated him, and now blackmailed him to get out of the dungeons. But, that didn’t keep him from placing a possessive hand on her shoulder as Styx moved past them to lean against a heavy desk that held a computer and several monitors.


And it didn’t halt that maddening scent of peaches from making his fangs ache with a desire to sink them deep into her flesh and taste if her blood were as sweet as that tantalizing perfume.


Folding his arms over his chest, Styx studied Roke’s tense expression before turning his attention to Sally.


“I should warn you, Ms. Grace, that this room has been hexed,” he said, his low voice edged with warning. “Your magic won’t work here.”


Roke snorted. “Actually, you shouldn’t be so certain, old friend.” His gaze slid to the tiny witch at his side. “Ms. Grace is full of surprises.”


“Yes, I suppose she is,” the Anasso murmured. “Are you going to tell me how you two ended up mated?”


Roke watched in fascination as a blush crept beneath Sally’s pale face and for the first time he considered the fact that despite her sharp tongue and foolish courage, she was extremely young.


Why did the thought make him feel like a letch? None of this catastrophe was his fault.


“Do you want the honors?” he growled.


Her blush deepened as she warily met Styx’s unwavering gaze. “I’m part demon.”


The ancient vampire hissed, obviously caught off guard by her confession. “What demon?”


Roke’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. Welcome to my world, bud.


“I don’t know.” She held up a silencing hand as Styx’s lips parted. “I truly don’t know. But to make a long story short, over the last few years I’ve discovered an ability to . . . coerce people to obey me for short periods of time.”


Roke made a sound of disgust. “Coerce?”


“Maybe it’s more of an enchantment,” she reluctantly conceded. “But I’ve only used it once or twice on humans. Until a few weeks ago it was never strong enough to influence demons, and then it was only a hellhound. I never dreamed it could affect a vampire. It was only because I was desperate I even tried.”


Styx’s gaze transferred to Roke. “And that’s when you mated?”


“I didn’t notice the bonding until the initial spell was broken.” Roke’s grip tightened on his companion’s slender shoulder. “Or at least, when Sally claims it was broken.”


With an impatient gesture, Sally lifted her arm, waving the crimson marking beneath his nose.


“You think that if there was a way to get rid of this I would hesitate for even a heartbeat?” she squawked. “The last thing I want is to be tied to a leech.”


Roke stiffened as her accusation sent a stab of anger through his heart. As if he were . . . what? Upset by her fierce rejection of their bonding? She was only saying what was exactly on his mind, wasn’t she?


Thankfully his ridiculous broodings were interrupted by Styx.


“You didn’t exchange blood?”


Roke shook his head, refusing to acknowledge the ruthless hunger that had plagued him since Sally had trapped him in her spell. “No.”


“Strange.” Styx pushed away from the desk, stepping toward Sally. “You have no idea what demon blood runs in your veins?”


“None.”


“Your magic interferes with my senses. Perhaps your blood . . .” Styx’s words were bitten off as Roke abruptly shoved Sally behind his rigid body, his lips peeled back to emphasize his fully exposed fangs. “Shit, Roke,” the ancient vampire muttered.


“You’re not tasting her blood,” he snarled.


Styx scowled, the icy throb of his power warning Roke who was in charge.


“Unless we discover what kind of demon she is, we won’t know how this happened.” He allowed a strategic pause. “Or if it can be reversed.”


Roke refused to back down. “No one takes her blood but me.”


“Hey,” Sally protested, kicking Roke on the back of his leg.


The two men ignored her.


“No way,” Styx snapped. “For now we can hope this is the result of her demon powers. If you take her blood—”


“No one’s taking my blood—are we clear on that?” Sally again intruded into their conversation, this time giving Roke a punch to the arm.


Styx arched a startled brow as he glanced toward the furious witch. “She’s feisty for such a little thing.”


“She’s a pain in the ass,” Roke muttered.


She growled. Not an animal growl. But an I’m-so-pissed-I-could-kill-you growl. “Someday I’m truly going to turn you into a newt,” she threatened Roke.


Without warning Styx tilted back his head to laugh with genuine amusement. “I’d go for a cave troll if I were you,” he informed the astonished Sally. “His vanity could use a few warts.”


Roke glared at his king. Traitor. “I’m glad you can find humor in this.”


Styx shrugged. “Imagine my reaction when I found myself mated to a pure-blooded Were.”


An emotion he refused to identify darted through Roke at the thought of this powerful vampire with Darcy. There was no mistaking the fact that the two adored one another and had no embarrassment in displaying their love whenever they were together.


Not that he wanted that sort of mating, he hastily reassured himself. His heart and loyalty belonged to his clan.


“It’s not the same,” he said roughly.


“No, I don’t suppose it is.” With a grimace Styx reached to grasp Roke’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, my brother, we’ll figure this out.”


Roke avoided glancing at the woman who had turned his life upside down. “We damned well better,” he muttered.


There was an awkward silence as Roke felt Sally take a deliberate step away, shaking off his clinging hand.


“Now tell me about this book,” Styx commanded.


Resisting the urge to wrap his arm around the female and tuck her back against his side, Roke rigidly concentrated on Styx’s abrupt change in conversation.


“It was hidden in a safe that was bricked over in an abandoned warehouse ten miles north of here.”


Styx nodded, not bothering to ask how Roke had managed to knock through the bricks to expose the safe. “And why do we need a witch?”


“Because it’s protected by black magic,” Sally answered. “Deadly to anyone foolish enough to touch it.”


Styx curled his lips in the typical vampire reaction to magic. “Can you get rid of it?”


Sally hesitated before giving a wary nod. “I think so, but the magic was more potent than any I’ve tried to deal with before. It will take time and specific ingredients to prepare a counterspell with enough punch to break through.”


Styx was speaking before Roke could protest. “Darcy will get what you need.”


“Fine, but I’m not returning to the dungeons,” she warned. “If you want my help, then you can’t treat me like a prisoner.”


The Anasso studied her with a narrowed gaze. “I have your word that you won’t try to escape?”


She blinked in surprise. “You trust the word of a witch?”


“Do I have your word?” Styx repeated, his voice as hard as granite.


Sally shrugged, lifting her arm to reveal the mating mark. “I swear I’m not leaving until you get rid of this. Good enough?”


Styx gave a rueful nod. “Good enough. You’ll find Darcy in the kitchen. Just tell her what you need.”