Stewart paused, as if having second thoughts. Then, with a growl loud enough to resonate through the parking lot, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out something that looked like a necklace. He handed it to Roban, who immediately turned back toward the motel.
“I need to give this to Maryam before I leave.”
“That leech has your balls in a vice grip.” Stewart climbed into the vehicle. “It’s pathetic.”
“Just wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Shit. Brigette closed the door and straightened. At the same time, Xi was stepping out of the bathroom.
“They’re leaving,” she told him in a clipped voice. She didn’t have time to argue. “I have to follow.”
His brows snapped together, his features hard with a combination of fear and frustration.
“Brigette.”
“I know.” She sent him a rueful smile. “You keep an eye on Maryam.”
He held out his hand. “Wait.”
“I can’t. They’re in a car. I’ll have to find one to keep up with them,” she told him, not bothering to mention she’d only driven on a handful of occasions.
“Don’t…” His words faltered, as if he couldn’t force them past his lips.
“I have no plans to die,” she assured him. “Not yet.”
His dark eyes smoldered with a thunderous emotion as he forced himself to take a step back, shrouded in the shadows.
“I hate this.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Come back to me,” he whispered as she opened the door and cautiously slid out of the room.
Chapter 19
Styx knew he was a control freak. His mate, Darcy, told him that he was obsessively anal and borderline OCD. Viper called him an overbearing dickhead with trust issues. He didn’t mind. Being the Anasso meant that he had to be prepared to take command of any situation.
Tonight, however, he willingly allowed Viper to drive as they headed south at a speed that would have them thrown in jail if a human cop happened to catch sight of them. An unlikely event, considering they were on roads that hadn’t seen anything faster than a tractor in decades.
He wanted to concentrate on his upcoming encounter with Ian. If he was right and his former brother was in his old lair, then he needed to be prepared.
They were driving along a high bluff overlooking the Mississippi River when Viper asked the question that had, no doubt, been on his lips since they’d retreated to their separate rooms to rest for the day.
“What makes you think that Ian is headed to the caves?”
“When we first encountered Ian, he was a feral beast who’d been rampaging his way across Siberia,” Styx said, grimacing at the memory. The male had been as large as a bear, with shaggy gray hair and pale eyes that had glowed with a frenzied insanity. “I wanted to have him destroyed. It was obvious that he possessed a vicious temper and an addiction to causing pain.”
Viper kept his hands lightly on the wheel. Despite the fast speed and rough roads, the Jaguar skimmed along as if it was gliding on air. The benefit of state-of-the-art suspension.
“I assume the old Anasso didn’t agree?”
Styx absently stroked his fingers over the hilt of his sword, which was angled between his spread legs. The Jag was smooth, but it wasn’t the roomiest vehicle. And since he was double the size of most men, it meant a tight squeeze.
“He claimed that every vampire could be salvaged, no matter how violent they might be. At the time, I admired his loyalty to his people. Now…” Styx shook his head.
“What?”
Over the past few years, Styx had learned more and more about his former master. Most of it awful. It made him wonder how he could have been so blind for so long.
“Now I wonder if he kept him because he knew that Ian was utterly devoted to him and would do anything he commanded. No matter how heinous.”
Viper nodded. “Like having a rabid dog chained in the front yard?”
“Exactly.”
They slowed as the road narrowed to a dirt path. They were getting close. “Even if he is feral, he should know you can’t resurrect a vampire,” Viper pointed out. “Unless he thinks you can glue a bunch of ashes back together.”
Styx shuddered. He devoted a lot of energy to suppressing the memory of his master’s death.
“Yeah, I’ve never heard of a vampire resurrection, but then again, I never heard of a spirit who could drain the power from Weres or an evil beast who could corrupt magic,” Styx said in dry tones. The past few years had been filled with one shock after another. Resurrection didn’t seem so crazy on the scale of utter insanity he’d been battling.
“Magic doesn’t work on vampires,” Viper insisted.
Styx shrugged. “As I said, Ian was never stable.”
Viper turned onto the short drive that led to the top of the bluff. “What does a delusional resurrection have to do with the rebellion?”
Styx tensed as the white farmhouse came into view. He’d been back here a hundred times. It’s where most of his Ravens lived. Hell, he’d lived here himself before mating Darcy. But he’d never allowed himself to think about his former master. Or the fact that the caves were more or less his mausoleum.
“I don’t know. It’s possible that he wanted me dead before our master returned,” he said in absent tones. “I am, after all, sitting on his throne.”
Viper sent him a mocking glance. “Yeah, there’s nothing more annoying than returning from the dead, only to find someone sitting on your throne.”
“Or, worse, trapped in the caves with my Ravens.” Styx snapped his fangs together, his fingers tightening on the hilt of his sword. “Of course,” he growled. “I’ve been so blind.”
Viper stopped the car next to the house. He turned to eye Styx in confusion.
“I’m still blind. What are you talking about?”
“You destroyed the Anasso in his private cavern,” he said, as if the younger vampire might have forgotten.
Not many creatures realized that it had been Viper, not Styx, who’d lopped off the previous Anasso’s head. At the time, they’d decided that it would be easier for the vampires to accept Styx as the next king if they believed he’d killed his successor. It wasn’t unusual in the demon-world for the role of leader to be decided in a battle to the death. Plus, Viper had been newly mated. The last thing the male had wanted was to be hounded by those vampires who wanted revenge for the death of the previous king. Or, worse, a challenge to take the throne.