Crouching low, Briggs pulled his lips back to reveal his fangs that dripped with Salvatore’s blood. Then, remaining low to the ground, he charged, his jaws snapping open as he prepared to hamstring Salvatore.
Salvatore didn’t hesitate.
The sword flashed downward in a smooth arc, slicing deep into the werewolf’s shoulder. It wasn’t a killing blow, but the blade cut through muscle and tendons, crippling the Were. Briggs snarled, but he was too far gone to give a crap that he was badly wounded.
Sinking his fangs into the back of Salvatore’s leg, he tried to yank Salvatore to the ground, snarling in frustration as his wounded leg buckled, refusing to give him leverage.
Salvatore grimaced in pain, using the hilt of the sword to smash into Briggs’s muzzle, ripping his fangs from Salvatore’s thigh and breaking the pureblood’s jaw in the process.
“It appears that my reunion with Mackenzie will have to be postponed,” he taunted, his sword already swinging toward the Were’s throat. “But I’m sure he’ll be happy to welcome you back.”
With a belated attempt at self-preservation, Briggs scrambled backwards, the putrid scent of rotting flesh thick in the air. Gagging at the stench, Salvatore never allowed his stroke to falter, putting his full strength behind the blow.
Cristo. Enough was enough.
With deadly accuracy, the sword hit the Were directly on the neck, the impact jolting through Salvatore’s body even as the blade slid through the flesh and bone.
There was no sound as Briggs’s head toppled from his body, his crimson eyes still filled with his twisted loathing. Grimacing, Salvatore swiftly cut out the bastard’s heart and backed away as a sluggish trickle of blood oozed from the life-ending wounds.
Merda. Briggs’s carcass smelled even worse dead.
Salvatore would have bet good money that wasn’t possible.
And more disturbing, there was a nasty tingle of black magic that was beginning to swirl through the air.
Holding the sword as if it could keep back the unpleasant chill filling the cabin, Salvatore unconsciously shook his head in denial.
No. He couldn’t rise from the dead again.
Not without the powers of his demon lord.
Logically accepting that the nightmare was at an end, however, didn’t keep Salvatore from continuing to back away as he waited for Briggs’s body to return to its human form.
He’d been played and manipulated like a mindless putz for centuries.
He wasn’t taking anything for granted.
The sound of Salvatore’s breathing was the only sound to break the thick silence. Then, at last, a faint shimmer covered the mutilated corpse.
Expecting the transformation back to human form, Salvatore hissed in shock as the head and body began to darken and then disintegrate, as if it were turning to ash before his eyes.
Dio. The bastard was…dissolving.
Salvatore resisted the perfectly sensible urge to flee in horror. He could only assume that this was a consequence of the spell that had brought Briggs back to life. After all, he’d been nothing more than a pile of ash after Salvatore had been done with him the first time. It was, perhaps, only to be expected that he would return to his original form once he was no longer a puppet of the demon lord.
Salvatore had never been particularly squeamish, but he found his stomach heaving as the last of Briggs vanished into a pile on the floorboards.
It was a suitable end to the traitor, but still unnerving as hell.
At last accepting that there wasn’t going to be another Lazareth act, Salvatore tossed aside his sword and crossed the barren room to grab the candle set in the windowsill.
Then with a brief prayer, he tossed the candle to the center of the room and walked out the front door.
He’d barely reached the edge of the tree line when the cabin was consumed in flames.
The end of his past.
And the beginning of his future.
A smile of anticipation curved his lips.
Epilogue
It was approaching midnight when Harley wandered through the hallways of Styx’s Chicago mansion.
It had been over a week since she and Salvatore had escaped from the demon lord, but this was the first time she had ventured out of the massive guest rooms.
A smile of pure satisfaction curved her lips.
Actually, she’d barely been out of bed for the past week.
Why should she have?
She had everything she needed.
A gorgeous, totally edible mate who devoted himself utterly to keeping her satisfied. A hot tub to soak away the sore muscles after marathon bouts of sex. Fabulous food delivered to the door by a discreet vampire.
Nothing less than nirvana.
Tonight, however, was a full moon and Salvatore had taken off at sunset for a wild run through the surrounding countryside. He’d urged her to join him. Even if she didn’t shift, she could feel the tug of the moon and the desire to be out in the night, running free, but she had firmly declined.
As much as she’d enjoyed the past few days, she knew that they were stolen moments that were swiftly coming to an end.
Salvatore was the King of Weres, and while he’d spent a portion of each day speaking with various pack leaders on the phone or by computer, she understood that he couldn’t remain in virtual isolation.
And she had her own duties, she reminded herself with a faint grimace.
Somehow during her efforts to link her powers with the curs to help Salvatore defeat Briggs, she’d bonded the poor schmucks to her. A stroke of luck since the whole bonding thing managed to heal their broken spirits, but a bit unnerving since they had decided they were now her personal guards, and refused to leave the mansion without her.
At some point she had to decide what the heck to do with them.
First, however, she wanted to spend some time with her sister.
So, giving Salvatore a lingering kiss, she’d sent him on his furry way and pulled on a pair of jeans and tank top to go in search of Darcy.
A half hour later, she managed to stumble across her in a peach-and-ivory room that had been converted to a private theater, with a huge plasma TV and several over-stuffed couches. Darcy was curled on the center sofa, a tray beside her that held a large bowl of popcorn and a large thermos.
Sensing her arrival, Darcy pressed a button on the remote to pause the movie and gestured for Harley to join her.
Walking across the ivory carpet, Harley settled on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her in a mirror image of her sister.
“I’m not interrupting?”
“Good grief, no. I hoped you would join me tonight.” Darcy reached for the thermos. “Salvatore has been entirely too selfish with your time.”
Harley laughed, a delicious heat racing through her blood at the memory of Salvatore’s insatiable hunger.
“He’s not entirely to blame.”
Darcy flashed a wicked smile. “Good for you. Hot chocolate?”
“Sounds perfect.” Allowing her sister to press the large mug into her hand, Harley glanced toward the TV, her brows raising as she realized what her sister was watching. “Terminator? I would have guessed you were more a Singin’ in the Rain fan.”
“Are you kidding me?” Darcy waggled her brows. “A chance to see Arnold naked? Priceless.”
“True.” Harley held up her mug in a toast to man candy everywhere. “To a naked Arnold.”
Darcy touched her mug to Harley’s. “Here, here.”
Sipping the creamy chocolate, Harley settled into the soft cushions.
“I assumed Styx would be with you.”
Darcy grimaced. “He’s busy on his throne.”
Harley gave a choked laugh. “Excuse me?”
“He’s having an official powwow with Dante and Viper. I think even Cezar stopped by.”
“Trouble?”
Darcy’s smile faded, concern darkening her eyes. “Levet is still missing.”
“But…I thought he’d been captured by Caine.”
“Apparently not. Your curs said that they found no trace of him.”
“Damn.” Harley frowned in dismay. She’d only known the tiny creature a short time, but she’d become attached to him. “He helped to save me and Salvatore from Caine’s cell. I hope he’s okay.”
“So do I. He acts tough, but he’s not as indestructible as he wants others to believe.”
Harley reached to grab her sister’s hand, offering what comfort she could.
“I have to admit I’m surprised that Styx and the other vampires would be bothered by Levet’s disappearance. I had a fairly strong feeling they found him annoying.”
Darcy squeezed her fingers, her smile wry. “Styx knows how much Levet means to me, but the vampires are far more concerned with the disappearance of Tane.”
“Tane?”
“Yet another vampire.”
Harley had a vague memory of Salvatore mentioning the vampire, but nothing more.
“What does he have to do with Levet?”
“Levet said he was following Tane’s trail the last time we heard from him.”
Okay, that didn’t sound good.
Still, it wasn’t like a babe lost in the woods.
“There’s not many things that can hurt a vamp,” she pointed out.