"Go to hell," the wizard croaked.
"Eventually, no doubt." Viper heaved a sigh. "I did hope to do this without undue violence. This is, after aft, my favorite jacket, and getting brain tissue out of velvet is a bitch. Still, the pleasure of killing will be worth the effort."
The once-proud man cringed in fear. "You're a vampire. Why do you care what happens to the witches?"
"Oh, I have no love for the hags. They can rot in hell for all I care. My only interest is for the welfare of my clansman. You seriously miscalculated when you attacked Dante."
"He is a pawn of the she-devils."
"Wrong answer." Faster than the mortal eye could folow, Viper slashed a deep cut in the man's cheek.
The wizard cried out, his eyes wide with terror. "If you kill me, then you will die."
"You beleve your god will avenge the death of a pathetic sycophant like you?" Viper curled his lips into a sneer. "He's more likely to send me a fruit basket."
The man held up a hand of surrender. "You must listen. It's the witches."
"What about them?"
'They intend to murder you."
Viper narrowed his gaze. He had no trust for the human. Such a man would sell his soul if he still owned it to save his hide. But Viper could smell the sour desperation that oozed from his sweat. The wizard truly believed the witches were a danger.
"The witches intend to murder me? Why?"
"They want us dead. All of us."
Slowly crouching down, Viper reached out to grasp the man by his throat. At the first hint of a lie, he would put an end to the miserable worm.
'Tell me."
Dante smoldered with violence as he grudgingly followed the witch leading them through the shadowed house. They had barely crossed the threshold when the familiar scent of brewing spells, drying herbs, and darker, less palatable odors clenched at his stomach.
It was a stench he knew all too well.
The witches were preparing a sacrifice.
He intended to ensure that the sacrifice didn't include Abby or himself.
No matter who or what he had to kill.
Staying close behind Abby, his senses swept the shadows. If you knew you were walking into a trap, was it still a trap?
Something to consider.
The rooms were large and empty with vaulted ceilings that gave the impression of space. The air, however, was close and thick with a cloaking heat that pressed uncomfortably on Dante. In his mind, it reeked of dusty cellars and prison walls.
Reaching what once must have been the formal drawing room, the witch paused at the doorway.
"Mistress, I have brought the Chalice," she said in reverent tones.
There was a rustle in the darkness and a low chant before the softness of candlelight chased away the gloom.
With stiff movements, a small, almost frail woman lifted herself from a chair. At a glance she might have been a sweet old grandmother with her fluff of gray hair and lined face. It was only when one noticed the hard brown eyes that the cold, relentless power became obvious.
Managing a tight-lipped smile, the old witch halted before Abby. "My lady. And the guardian." The hard gaze flicked over Dante before the woman waved a hand toward the cavernous room. "Come in and be welcome."
Dante felt Abby's hesitation before she was cautiously moving to take a seat on a leather chair beside the empty fireplace. Dante stood behind her, his body tense and ready to strike.
Just for a moment the unrelenting gaze of Edra weighed his protective stance, as if judging whether or not he would prove to be a hindrance to her plans.
Whatever she decided was not visible on the ancient face. But since he was still standing, he presumed she had concluded he was no threat.
For the moment.
In the blink of an eye, her attention returned to Abby's pale face.
"We have not yet been introduced, although I feel as if we are intimately acquainted. I am Edra." Her gaze narrowed. "And you are?"
"Abby Barlow."
"Ah, the servant," she murmured. "I should have realized you would be the only one near enough to have taken the Phoenix."
"I didn't mean to," Abby assured the woman dryly. "If I had realized what was going to happen, I would have run screaming in the opposite direction."
"Quite understandable." Something that was no doubt supposed to be sympathy touched the lined face. 'You look exhausted, my dear. May I get you some wine?"
Abby nervously cleared her throat. "No, thank you."
'Very well." There was a short, thick silence. "Ybu are well? You have had no difficulty in carrying the Phoenix?"
"Beyond being chased by every demon and dark wizard in Chicago?"
A gnarled hand waved in an imperious motion. "I mean physically. There is no pain? No sickness?"
"My eyes have turned blue, and I have a tendency to light people on fire, but besides that I feel all right"
"That is a relief. Still…" The woman moved close to bend over the chair, ignoring Dante's low growl as she reached out to touch Abby's cheek. "Perhaps you will not mind if I take a moment to ensure the Phoenix is unharmed by… recent events?"
Abby shuddered beneath the woman's touch but didn't pull away. "If you must."
Edra closed her eyes as she murmured beneath her breath. Dante couldn't feel the magic, but he knew it was being woven. His hands clenched at his side. Bloody hell, he hated this.
"It is well, thank the blessed Goddess," the woman breathed. Then, without warning, she gave a sharp gasp and stumbled backward, her hand pressed to her heart. "Oh…"
Abby clutched the arms of the chair. "What?"
With an effort, the witch wrestled control of her composure. Her hand, however, remained an angry red.
The Phoenix had struck out at her.
What the hell did that mean?
"You possess a great deal of power. More than Selena." She narrowed her gaze before she gave a faint nod. 'You shall do well."
Never stupid, Abby regarded the witch with tense suspicion. "Do well?"
"As the Chalice, of course."
The words were smooth, but Dante didn't believe them for a moment. His hand dropped to Abby's shoulder as he regarded the witch with a cold threat.
"We are here for you to remove the spirit."
The candles abruptly flared. A not-so-subtle warning of her sheathed power.
"Impossible," Edra snapped. "The Phoenix has already taken possession of her body."
"Then bloody well find another body," he growled.
Her gnarled hand lifted. "Careful, beast."
Violence hung in the air, and with a nervous motion, Abby was out of the chair.
"Look, I understand your concern, but there's no way I can be your… Chalice," she muttered in an obvious attempt to halt bloodshed. "I didn't ask for this, I was never trained, and quite frankly I'm sick of scary things trying to kill me."
Edra sent her a fleeting gaze, her attention remaining on Dante. 'You're with us now. We will see to your training as well as keep you safe."
"As you did Selena?" Dante mocked.
"Selena brought on her own demise."
"How?"
"It is not your place to question what occurs among the coven," Edra snapped.
"But it's mine," Abby intruded again. "And I want to know what happened to Selena."
"We shall discuss Selena later."
Dante hid a smile at the imperious command in the witch's voice. It was custom-designed to set Abby's teeth on edge.
He was not disappointed as his mate narrowed her gaze and mentally dug in her heels.
"No. I want to know how she died."
Edra stiffened. The old witch was accustomed to commanding her underlings with an iron fist. Even Selena had grudgingly conceded to her authority.
Surprisingly, however, something that might have been wariness flickered over the lined face as the witch studied the younger woman.
"She attempted a spell well beyond her capabilities," she abruptly confessed.
"What sort of spell?" Abby pressed. "What did it do?"
"It… protected her from demons."
She was lying.
The knowledge hung thick in the air.
"I thought the Phoenix could protect itself," Abby challenged.
"Against most enemies."
"Did she fear being attacked?"
"It is always a fear." The lined face hardened with hatred. 'The darkness hovers and awaits the opportunity to regain what it has lost. There are evil forces in the world that will halt at nothing to destroy us."
"Yeah, I've been introduced to a few of them," Abby muttered. "Which is why I want this… this thing out of me and into someone who knows what they're doing."
There was a tense pause before the witch reached out to pat Abby's arm in an awkward motion.
"We will consider what is best to be done, but first you will desire a short rest I can sense your weariness."
The woman turned and headed for the door before Abby could argue. Dante moved faster.
