It was nothing short of a sin to claim the crumbling pile of bricks and sagging roof was a rooming house. Although there had been a few pathetic attempts to slap paint on the walls and cover the threadbare carpets with throw rugs, the only thing that could improve the place was a bulldozer.
But, despite the fact that the squalid room could boast nothing more than a narrow bed and a broken TV, it was marginally warmer than sleeping on the street, and for the moment, it was demon free.
Huddled next to the radiator, which spit out a grudging warmth, Darcy nibbled on the salad she had discovered in the bag that Salvatore had tossed into her lap and attempted to put her scattered thoughts in order.
Yeah right. How did you straighten out thoughts that were a muddy, tumbled, confused mess?
All she had wanted was to discover the truth of her past.
Simple and straightforward.
Ha.
If Salvatore was to be trusted, which was a stretch she wasn't yet willing to take, then the truth of her past was that her mother was a werewolf with a number of lovers, and she had given birth to a litter of four babies. Babies who had promptly been stolen and sold on the black market.
It was a plot that only Hollywood could inspire.
Jeez. After the past few hours, she was terrified to even consider the thought of who (or what) her father might be.
Or, how she had been supposedly sold on the black market only to end up in an endless series of foster homes.
It was enough to make any poor woman's head ache.
And throb.
And .. . buzz?
Darcy dropped her salad, then pressed her hands to her forehead, battling the sudden sense that a black hole was forming in the middle of her brain.
"Darcy." Darcy gave a small shriek as the insistent voice echoed through her head. "Sacre bleu, I know you can hear me," the voice growled.
"Levet?" she breathed.
'Out.'
"Cripes, I'm losing my mind," she said, her voice unnaturally loud in the empty room.
'Won, your mind is not lost," the gargoyle assured her. "I am speaking to you with a portal."
Ridiculous, of course. She gave a shake of her head. The tiny demon wasn't actually inside her skull.
Or at least she hoped not.
At this point she was willing to believe anything.
"A what?"
"A portal," he said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "And while my magic is quite formidable, and the fear of demons far and wide, there have been a tiny few occasions when it hasn't gone exactly as planned, most notably when I opened a portal and managed to release the most annoying sprite. Of course, she was beautiful, and attired in the most revealing... never mind. My point is that we need to do this quickly."
"So this is ..." She struggled to think what this actually was. "Magic?"
"Of course." There was a brief pause. "Where are you, ma cherie? "
Despite the shock of having a real (at least she hoped it was real) voice speaking in her head, Darcy wasn't feeling particularly stupid.
"Oh no. I don't want Styx tracking me down," she said. "Not yet."
"Styx is still safely tucked in his coffin. It is Shay who asked me to contact you."
His words caught her off guard. "Why?"
"She is concerned."
"She is also the mate of Viper," Darcy pointed out dryly.
"Mate, oui, but she possesses a mind of her own and she is very worried about you."
Darcy felt her heart warm. She wasn't used to having anyone worry over her.
Still, she would never want to cause a rift between Shay and her mate.
"Tell her thanks, but there is no need. I've been taking care of myself for a long time."
"Bah. You haven't been up against a pack of werewolves and determined vampires. You need somewhere safe to stay." There was a short pause. "And Shay wishes to remind you that nothing would please her more than annoying the oh-so-arrogant Styx."
Darcy couldn't help but laugh. She didn't doubt for a moment that Shay enjoyed taking occasional jabs at the master vampire.
And in truth, it might help to talk with someone else.
At the moment she wasn't certain she would ever be able to sort through her tangled thoughts on her own.
She needed a friend. A heater that actually worked. And a large dose of chocolate.
In that order.
"Okay. Tell me where to meet you."
Styx was pacing the floor well before sunset and on the hunt for Darcy before it was barely dark enough to travel in safety. He might even have gone sooner if Viper hadn't remained at the estate to rest during the day and threatened to have him shackled to the wall if he tried anything stupid.
The silver-haired vampire had proven to be a valuable friend over the past few days, but there were times when his determination to be logical was wearing on Styx's nerves.
After commanding his Ravens to remain at the estate in case Darcy returned, Styx and Viper returned to the warehouse and followed the faint trail through Chicago to a small, secluded park, where they halted to inspect the trampled snow.
"She was here," Viper announced the obvious. "And not alone."
"No." Styx clenched his hands as the sweet scent of Darcy wrapped about him. It might have been hours since she had stood in the park, but the very essence of her remained. Along with a far less delightful odor. "Salvatore and a damn cur were here as well."
There doesn't seem to be any sign of a struggle and no scent of blood," Viper soothed. The encounter was obviously peaceful, and just as obviously they left in separate directions."
"That doesn't mean they aren't together now," Styx growled, pacing over the snow as he studied the tracks. Salvatore had stood close to Darcy. Close enough to touch her. Damn the dog. "What the hell does he want with her?"
"A good question." Viper moved to his side. "Unfortunately, for the first time in centuries, I'm at a loss for an answer. Amazing, is it not?"
"Amazing," Styx agreed dryly.
"For now, I think we should concentrate on tracking down Darcy."
Viper was right, dammit all.
Just as he had been right about Darcy's reaction to his attempt to alter her memories.
His arrogance had led directly to this current disaster.
"By the gods, this is my fault. If I hadn't..." Styx shook his head in self-disgust. "I have driven her out here. Now she is alone and at the mercy of Salvatore and his Weres."
Viper clapped him on the shoulder. "I doubt she is completely helpless, old companion. You said yourself that you suspected she was more than human, and she did manage to kick at least one werewolf's furry ass."
"The Were was a mere cur and barely old enough to be let off the leash." His gaze shifted to the darkness that cloaked about them. He could feel the pulse and energy1 of the night swirl around him. It was a power, and a danger, that Darcy had yet to comprehend. "Darcy would be no match for a pureblood."
"Take it easy, Styx." The hand on Styx's shoulder became more a vise than a source of comfort, as if Viper sensed Styx's barely restrained need to rush into the night and tear the city apart in his search for his angel. "So far it seems that Salvatore has no intention of harming the young woman. In fact, I would say that he is as anxious to protect her as you are yourself."
"Ah yes, and I have done such a brilliant job of protecting her," Styx said in a biting tone. "I might as well have tossed her into Salvatore's waiting arms."
"Very dramatic, but hardly accurate. You simply did what you thought was best."
"The best for me."
"And what you thought best for all vampires?" Viper demanded.
Styx gave an impatient wave of his hand. "Yes, of course."
"Then what do you have to feel guilty over?"
"Damn you, Viper—" Styx began, only to come to a halt as he caught the unmistakable scent of vampire. "Someone is near."
Viper sniffed the air before a smile touched his face. "Ah, Santiago."
"What is he doing here?"
"He happens to be the finest tracker I have ever known," Viper explained, with a sudden smile. "Santiago can find Darcy, no matter how far or fast she has run."
The neighborhood on the outskirts of Chicago couldn't have been more different from the narrow, dingy streets Darcy had just left behind.
It was amazing what a few miles and several million dollars could do.
Here the streets were wide and decorously hushed with vast homes hidden behind high gates and ancient trees.
There wasn't even a stray leaf to mar the perfection.
Yow.
Still, Darcy was on guard as she parked the sports car on the corner and made her way to the large tree where Levet had directed her to await Shay.
Despite the horror flicks, she had discovered that any number of demons preferred luxurious surroundings rather than dark, narrow alleys.
She wasn't going to be caught off guard.
Reaching the tree, she wrapped her arms about herself as the cold seemed to seep into her very bones.