Ignoring the agony of even the smallest movement Viper lifted his head to glare at his one time friend.
"The moment you release me I will kill you."
The bronzed face might have been carved from granite. "I am not your enemy."
"So this is how you treat your friends?" Viper spit at his feet. "Then I can only say mat your hospitality sucks."
"You know I would never see you harmed. I would never wish harm upon any of my brothers." Styx lifted his hand from Viper's back and frowned at the blood that stained his fingers. "I seek to save us all from chaos and ruin."
"No," Viper hissed. "You seek to sacrifice a young, innocent woman to save a vampire who brought about his own ruin. Or do you deny the weakness of the Anasso?"
Styx clenched his hands at his sides. His loyalty to his master was without question, but not even he could entirely hide his dislike for the illness that had ravaged the once powerful vampire.
It was a closely held secret that vampires could be affected by taking the blood of those who were addicted to drugs. And an even more closely held secret that vampires themselves could be chained to the addiction. The tainted blood would slowly, but ruthlessly destroy any vampire.
Even the Anasso.
"That is all in the past," Styx retorted in frigid tones.
"You mean after he was cured by Shay's father?"
"Yes."
Viper gritted his teeth as a fresh wave of pain shot down his arms. Vampires were not meant to hang from ceilings by silver shackles. Of course, they were not intended to be kidnapped by companions they had once called friend, or whipped like a savage dog.
"If it is in the past why is he ill once again?" he demanded.
To his surprise Styx turned to pace across the damp floor, his flowing black robe unable to hide the tightness that clenched at his shoulders. Slowly he bent his head, almost as if he were in prayer.
"Does it matter?"
Viper's pain was forgotten as a violent fury surged through him.
"Considering you intend to murder the woman I love, then yes, it matters a great deal."
Styx visibly flinched, as if Viper had actually reached out to strike him.
"I... regret the necessity. You cannot know how much, Viper, but you must think what will occur if the Anasso dies." Slowly turning the vampire regarded Viper with a haunted expression. "Vampire will rise up against vampire. Some to claim dominion over us, and others simply to return to the days before peace. The blood of the clans will drown us all while the jackals wait to return to their place of glory."
"Jackals?" Viper frowned. "You mean the weres?"
'They are banded together beneath a new king. A young and fierce werewolf who dreams of the day when they rule the night," Styx retorted, his voice dark with concern. "It is only fear of the Anasso that keeps them from howling at our doorstep."
Viper gave a slow shake of his head. By the blood of the saints. Was Styx truly so blind? Had he been rattling around these dark caves for so long that he had no idea what was going on in the world?
"You are a fool, Styx," he growled.
The dark eyes narrowed. "No doubt many would agree with you, but never to my face."
As if a handful of insults would make a spit's worth of difference, Viper thought with a humorless smile. He was already being tortured. What the hell else could they do to him?
"Open your eyes, old companion," he rasped. "It is not the Anasso who keeps the vampires from ripping one another apart. Or even who holds the werewolves at bay."
Styx managed to look as if Viper had just muttered blasphemy. And perhaps it was to him. He had devoted his existence to the Anasso. He could obviously not see beyond that.
"Of course it is," Styx insisted. "He is the one who led us all to glory."
"Perhaps he did lead us, but no one has actually seen or spoken with the Anasso in centuries. He is little more than a vague shadow remembered for past deeds."
"They fear him. They fear the power he wields."
"No, they fear you, Styx. You and your Ravens. You are the ones who rule the vampires whether you will it or not."
Styx stiffened, his features tight with shock. "That is treason."
"It is the simple truth." Viper grimaced, barely capable of keeping his head lifted. His strength was draining away with his blood. "Leave this place and walk among the clans if you desire the truth, Styx. Your loyalty has blinded you."
Styx gave a low hiss. "I came here in the hope you could be made to see sense. Obviously your madness runs deeper than. I had feared." His slender hand reached to touch the medallion at his neck. "When you are prepared to call for the Shalott I will return."
Turning on his heel the vampire left Viper to the pain and darkness.
Not that Viper truly minded. As the silver chains bit into his flesh and his muscles clenched in fiery agony, he could swear that he could smell the sweet scent of Shay.
The tunnels that honeycombed the bluff proved to be a bewildering maze that more often than not led to dead ends, or worse, circled back to the precise spot she started from. Within a half hour of fruitless searching she was lost and muttering a string of French curses. She didn't know what half of them meant, but they seemed somehow perfect as she stumbled and squeezed her way through the thick darkness.
She muttered them again as she smacked her head on a half dozen occasions and once nearly fell into a gaping hole in the floor. The place was obviously a deathtrap. A moldy, damp, and smelly deathtrap, which no doubt harbored any number of nasty, creepy spiders. Inching ever deeper beneath the bluffs she at last caught the unmistakable scent of vampires.
Oh, thank freaking heaven.
She would rather battle a herd of ravaging vampires than spend another moment trapped alone in the moldy tunnels.
Smelling vampires, however, and actually finding them proved to be two different things.
There didn't seem to be one tunnel that actually went in a straight line. Damn tunnels. And she was forced to circle through half of Illinois before she at last began to discover torches set in the walls, and occasional rugs and tapestries that revealed she was nearing the hidden lairs.
Coming to a fork she paused to take a deep breath. The vampires were most definitely to the right. At least seven of them.
But to the left there was the smell of humans. A whole flock of humans who smelled of fear and sickness. There was also more. A faint odor of imp and... troll?
Her heart gave a brief leap. Could it be Evor? Was he close enough for her to capture once she rescued Viper? It had to be worth a try.
Shay turned firmly in the direction of the vampires and put all thoughts of Evor from her mind. All that mattered at the moment was finding Viper.
This tunnel was wider and obviously more often traveled, but oddly deserted. With her current string of ill luck she half expected to trip over vampires around every curve. Instead there was not a one to be found as she caught the distinctive scent of Viper.
"Viper?" she whispered softly. A frown touched her brow when there was no answer. No matter how soft her voice, he should hear it. Unless... no, no, no. She wouldn't even think it.
Swallowing the lump that remained valiantly lodged in her throat she paused long enough to grasp one of the burning torches from a bracket and forced her feet forward. Just ahead there was a narrow opening.
Viper.
He was there.
She could feel it in every beat of her heart.
Careful not to singe her hair, or any other significant part of her body, she squeezed through the narrow opening. Once in the small cavern she held the torch outward to battle the inky darkness. What she found made her heart clench with a sharp, wrenching pain.
Viper was there all right.
Strung by his wrists to the ceiling he had been whipped until his back and legs were sliced open to the bone in some places. Blood was everywhere, turning his silver hair a sickening shade of crimson, and marring the perfection of his ivory face.
"Viper... oh shit, what did they do to you?" she whimpered, freezing in horror. The torch dropped to the floor before she took command of her senses. Dammit, the last thing Viper needed was a hysterical fool flapping her hands and oh-my-mying. She claimed to be a warrior. It was damn well time she started acting like one.
She swallowed again and deliberately turned her trembling fear into a grim, determined fury. The vampires had chained, beaten, and tortured Viper as if he were no more than an animal. And for no better cause man to capture her.
She intended to see them in hell.
Just as soon as she managed to get Viper to safety.
It was a task that proved to be easier said than done as she moved to struggle with the heavy chain that held Viper swinging from the ceiling. At least it was silver and not iron, she acknowledged, although she doubted that Viper shared her relief.
She could smell the stench of the metal burning into his flesh, and she knew that it must be as painful as all the ghastly wounds put together.
Tugging, pulling, cussing, and wrenching she at last managed to free the chain from me clasp set in the wall of the cavern. Of course her success did come with a cost as Viper dropped heavily to the ground, the chain landing on top of him.
