“Surely that should make you happy?” he asked cautiously. “You hate the visions.”
“My preference doesn’t matter.” She shivered at the cost of losing her visions when she needed them the most. “They might make the difference between our survival and the end of the world.”
He tensed at her blunt words, belatedly understanding why she was so distressed. “You’ve never been able to conjure them on command,” he tried to soothe. “They might simply . ..”
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Be on hiatus.” He clearly reached for the first excuse that came to mind. “It’s been a stressful few days, after all.”
She smiled wryly, appreciating his effort, even if she didn’t believe for a minute that it was a temporary glitch. “Trust me, I’ve had more than a few stressful days over the years,” she said dryly. “But there’s never been a time I haven’t had visions. And when the future is in chaos, like it is now, I have hundreds of them. It doesn’t make sense they would suddenly disappear.”
Caine went rigid above her, his face draining of color. “‘The Gemini will rise and chaos shall rule for all eternity,’” he quoted in his husky tones.
She gave a slow nod. “Exactly.”
Their gazes locked as the full implication of her words sank in, Caine’s eyes darkening with unease.
“You think . . . ?”
“Maybe I’m not having visions because the Gemini has already won.”
Chapter 23
Styx’s study
Although he’d managed time for a shower and a few blessed hours in the arms of his mate, Styx was still in a foul mood as he entered his study to find Viper waiting for him.
The Chicago clan chief had only minutes before returned from the rift, and as Styx watched him pace the floor, he wasn’t surprised to discover that the younger vampire looked as fatigued as Styx felt.
His silver-blond hair was hanging loose down his back and his usually immaculate velvet jacket and black slacks were wrinkled and coated with dust. Even the pale features were lined with a weariness he couldn’t disguise.
Crossing to lean against his desk, Styx folded his arms over his chest, which was covered by a black T-shirt that matched his black jeans.
“Well?”
Coming to a halt in the center of the room, Viper met his questioning gaze with a grimace. “Ariyal’s tribe has managed to block the rift, but it’s taking all of them to do it.” He shrugged a shoulder. “They’re only a temporary solution.”
Styx gave a nod. It was as much as he could hope for. “They’ve given us time.”
“True.” Viper’s lips twisted. “Now what the hell are we going to do with it?”
Styx snorted. That was a hell of a question. “I’m open to ideas.”
Without answers, Viper instead turned the conversation. “Has Jagr taken off?”
“Yes.” Styx had seen his Raven off less than an hour before. “He’s promised to report in with Regan.”
There was a sudden chime and Viper reached beneath his jacket to remove his cell phone. “Speaking of checking in,” the clan chief muttered, swiftly reading his message. “It’s Santiago.”
Styx lifted his brows in surprise. Not that the powerful warrior wouldn’t be a welcomed addition. “He’s here?”
“No, he’s still with Nefri. They’re traveling to the rift.”
“Why?”
“To see if her medallion can close it.”
Styx hissed in self-disgust. “Clever. I should have considered the possibility myself.”
“You can’t think of everything.”
“I have to if we’re going to survive.”
With a sharp movement, Viper crossed to the sidebar, pouring two shots of the finest whiskey in Chicago before returning to shove one of the balloon glasses into Styx’s hand.
“You aren’t fighting this battle alone,” Viper said.
“No.” With a wry smile, Styx took a sip of the whiskey, enjoying the expensive burn as it slid down his throat. His companion was right. The demon world was coming together as it never had before to face the evil confronting it. “Thank the gods.”
Viper emptied his drink with one swallow, setting the glass on a nearby shelf. “What about the prophet?”
“She’s still in her rooms, although that damned guard dog of hers finally let Darcy in to see her.”
“She hasn’t had a vision?”
Styx set aside his own glass, his brows lowering in an annoyed scowl as he recalled his earlier attempt to speak with Cassandra. “Not that I know of, but Caine won’t allow me close enough to ask.”
Viper rolled his eyes. “Newly mated Weres are a pain in the ass.”
“Yes.” Styx abruptly chuckled. “You on the other hand were the very essence of a civilized gentleman during your pursuit of Shay.”
The younger vampire’s lips twitched. They both knew that Viper had become an obsessed predator the moment he’d found Shay being held captive by a coven of witches.
Their courtship had been the stuff of legends.
“There might have been an occasional glimpse of my more primitive side,” he ruefully conceded.
“You were a raving lunatic.”
Viper sent him a speaking glance. “It takes one to know one.”
Styx thought back to his pursuit of Darcy with an unexpected pang of bittersweet longing. At the time, his battle had been with Salvatore. A tangible enemy with enough honor to understand the rules of warfare.
Now...
He shook his head. “It all seems like a very long time ago.”
“I feel you,” Viper muttered.
They shared a glance of mutual regret at the loss of simpler times before the moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
Styx glanced toward the open doorway, already sensing the identity of the approaching vampire. “Roke.”
Viper scowled. “Why is he still here?”
“We can use all the help we can get.” Styx pointed a finger at the younger vampire. “Behave yourself.”
Viper pressed a hand to his chest, his fallen-angel beauty emphasized by his overly innocent expression as he quoted back Styx’s own words. “I promise to be the very essence of a civilized gentleman.”
Styx snapped his fangs toward his companion. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“At least we can agree on one thing,” Roke drawled as he stepped into the room.
Viper stepped forward, but Styx grabbed his arm before they could come to blows. If the world managed to survive the looming apocalypse, he was going to lock the two clan chiefs into a room and not let them out until they could play nice.
“Have you completed your task?” he demanded of Roke.
“Task?” The Nevada clan chief narrowed his gaze, his strange silver eyes shimmering with a dangerous glow. “You make it sound like you asked me to rotate your tires, not find a way to tempt the ultimate evil into this world.”
“If I wanted my tires rotated I would call a mechanic,” Styx informed him without apology. “I expect my clan chiefs to perform miracles.”
“No shit,” Roke muttered.
Styx waved an impatient hand. He could feel the relentless ticking of the clock beating against him. “Well?”
Roke stood with a quiet confidence that went deeper than his position as vampire or clan chief. He was a lethal predator to the very bones. “We can’t force her out of her lair.”
Viper pulled away from Styx’s grip, his expression mocking. “Genius.”
Roke curled his lips to expose his fangs. “At least one of us has brains.”
Styx muttered a foul curse, giving another wave of his hand. “Continue.”
Roke returned his attention to Styx, although he looked like he would rather continue bantering with his fellow clan chief.
Not a good sign.
“So we have to offer her a temptation too great to resist,” Roke said.
There was an empty silence as Styx waited for more, swiftly followed by Viper’s sound of disgust.
“That’s it?”
“Viper,” Styx growled, more to prevent yet another headache-inducing squabble than to protest his skepticism. He wasn’t too enthused about the vague solution either.
“Fine,” Viper snapped, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. “What temptation would lure the psycho bastard . . . wait, the psycho bitch, from her bat cave?”
“The person who locked her in her bat cave in the first place,” Roke smoothly retorted.
Viper frowned. “The Phoenix?”
“No.” Styx’s voice filled the air with a frigid power that shattered the overhead chandelier and coated the marble figurines with ice. “No way.”
Roke stood unflinching, his raven hair blowing around his lean face as the power rushed over him. “You asked for a suggestion, I gave you one.”
Styx clutched his hands. The Phoenix was too vital to the future of the world to risk her in such a dangerous gamble.