There were four boxes of her various plants and a small suitcase that carried her clothes.


She was staring at them with an unconscious frown when Levet joined her at the table.


"I did get them all, did I not?"


"Yes, this is all."


He gave a small sniff. "1 cannot imagine why you would wish a bunch of weeds stuck in ugly pots. They seem a great deal of trouble when you can step out the door and dig up any number of weeds just like them."


"They are not weeds; they are my companions," she corrected.


"Well, I suppose as roommates they are at least quiet."


She smiled ruefully as she reached out to touch one of her lacy ferns. "No one really understands."


There was a short beat before Levet cleared his throat. "Actually, I would guess that at least one vampire understands."


"Yes," she murmured softly, that strange tingle returning.


Styx.


He did understand. Or if he didn't understand, he was at least willing to accept the importance to her. And he had sent Levet out in the snow so that she wouldn't be fretting over her things.


It was ...


Cripes, it was sweet. And thoughtful. And not at all in keeping with a coldhearted monster who intended her harm.


And for some stupid reason it touched her far more than was reasonable.


Well, perhaps not stupid, she silently conceded. After all, when a person was alone in the world the slightest offer of kindness tended to take on greater meaning than for other people.


Even if that kindness came from a bloodthirsty vampire holding her captive.


"Excuse me," she muttered to Levet as she left the kitchen and went in search of the elusive Styx.


She needed to see the beautiful demon.


She wanted him to know she wasn't indifferent to his concern for her happiness.


As she moved through the empty living room and equally empty study, Darcy paused as a coldness prickled over her skin. It was a coldness like the one that surrounded Styx but without the added surge of excitement his always stirred.


With a swift motion she turned, not at all surprised to discover the silent vampire standing in the doorway.


"Oh." She shifted uneasily. "Hello."


The vampire was motionless as he stared at her from the depths of his heavy cowl.


"Is there some requirement that I can fulfill?" he demanded.


She resisted the urge to shiver. He looked like a mannequin. A very scary mannequin.


"I was looking for Styx. Do you know where I can find him?"


"He has left the estate."


"Do you know when he will return?"


"No."


"I see."


Darcy couldn't deny a flare of disappointment. Which was nearly as scary as the vampire standing before her. Even a woman who tried to think the best of everyone shouldn't be pining for the man holding her prisoner.


That was crazy. Just... crazy.


Chapter Seven


The trail from Darcy's bedroom to the dilapidated hotel wasn't particularly difficult to follow. That didn't, however, do anything to ease Styx's smoldering temper.


Salvatore had invaded his lands and put his filthy hands on Darcy.


Styx wanted blood.


Werewolf blood.


That was the only thing on his mind.


Or it was until he caught the unmistakable scent of vampire.


Hastily clearing his mind, Styx slipped into the shadows of a nearby alley, his dagger in his hand.


As the ruler of vampires, he was above petty duels and the occasional clan wars that still erupted. That didn't mean, however, that a rogue vampire might not decide his leadership skills could be improved by a stake through the heart. He ruled with an iron hand, and there were more than a few of his subjects who were not always pleased with his laws.


Ah, the pleasures of being king.


Styx was braced to strike when the vamp came close enough for him to recognize the familiar scent. With a muttered curse, he slipped the dagger back into his boot and stepped from the shadows to confront his aggravating friend.


"Viper." He planted his hands on his hips. "What a less than pleasant surprise."


Coming to a halt, the silver-haired vampire offered a deep bow. He should have looked ridiculous in the gold satin jacket that fell to his knees and black velvet pants, but, as always, the demon managed to appear utterly elegant.


"Good evening, ancient one."


"Don't call me that," Styx growled. "What are you doing here?"


"Would you believe that I just happened to be in the neighborhood?"


"Not for a minute."


"Fine." Viper stepped forward, his expression smoothing to somber lines. "I'm here because of you."


"How did you know I would be here?"


There was a beat before Viper gave a small shrug. "DeAngelo was concerned."


"He contacted you?" Styx gave a sharp shake of his head. He had turned each of the Ravens himself. Their loyalty was above question. "No. He would not dare."


"What choice did he have?" Viper demanded. "You left the estate in an obvious temper without taking one of your guards with you."


In a temper? Styx stiffened at the insinuation. He never lost his temper. And if he did, no one would be capable of detecting his mood. He would never lower himself to stomping about in some sort of childish snit.


He suddenly grimaced as he realized that that was exactly what he had been doing. Right down to the stomping.


Damn.


This was all Darcy Smith's fault. She alone had managed to rattle the icy control he had honed over hundreds and hundreds of years.


"I do not need a babysitter, Viper," he retorted.


"No." Viper regarded him steadily. "What you need is protection."


"From a pack of curs?" His nose flared with wounded pride. "You think so little of me?"


"This has nothing to do with the Weres." Stepping forward, Viper placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are no longer just another vampire, Styx. You are our leader, and DeAngelo is your second in command. He wouldn't be worthy of being a Raven if he had not taken measures to see to your safety."


Styx wanted to argue. On this night he was not thinking as the master of all vampires. He was thinking as a man. A man who wanted to beat the holy shit out of another man.


A night for testosterone, not politics.


Unfortunately, DeAngelo had been within his rights. He could not have known that Styx planned nothing more dangerous than a small squabble with a pack of dogs.


"Very well," he grudgingly conceded. "You can stay here and watch the mold grow if you want."


He shook off his friend's hand and took a step forward only to be halted as Viper smoothly stepped into his path.


"You intend to begin negotiations with Salvatore?" the younger vampire demanded.


"Do I now have to offer you my itinerary as well?" Styx snapped.


"It is a simple question." Viper narrowed his gaze. "Are you here to bargain with the Weres?"


Styx hissed softly. He answered to no one. Not even to a powerful clansman who also happened to be his friend.


"I'm here to make sure that Salvatore understands that the next time he attempts to invade my territory it will be his last."


"He was at the estate?" Viper demanded in surprise.


He should be surprised. Only the very brave, or very stupid, would dare to enter a vampire's lair.


"He slipped into Darcy's room while I was downstairs."


"Did he harm her?"


"No."


"I assume he tried to take her against her will?"


Styx glared with a cold warning. He wasn't about to confess that he had no idea what the Were's devious plot had been. Or that Darcy had deliberately concealed her meeting with Salvatore. Not when the mere thought was enough to make his blood run hot and his fangs ache to sink into warm flesh.


Viper would no doubt lock him in a cellar until his senses could return.


"What does it matter? Isn't it enough that he dared to approach her at all?"


"But isn't that what you wanted, old friend?"


Styx stepped back with a frown. "What did you say?"


Viper gave a lift of his hands. "She can hardly be a suitable bargaining chip if Salvatore is not anxious to get his hands upon her. The fact that he dared certain death to try to retrieve her means that he will concede to any demand that you make of him."


Styx turned on his heel to pace down the alley. He didn't want Viper to see his expression. Not when it was bound to reveal his sharp flare of fury at the mere notion of handing over Darcy to the pureblood.


That was something he would consider later.


Much, much later.


"More likely he is simply arrogant enough to believe he is capable of stealing her away without conceding anything. He needs to be reminded of the dangers of crossing my will."


"So this is all a matter of teaching the Were a lesson?"


Styx turned back at the unmistakable disbelief in Viper's tone. "Is there something wrong with that?"


"I thought you desired to avoid bloodshed? Is that not why you took the woman in the first place?"