“Styx, be careful,” the younger male warned. “There’s someone—”
The words were still on his lips when a blast of ice shot down from the ceiling, aimed directly at Styx.
Shit.
Styx braced himself for the impact, but before the sheet of ice could slam into him, Viper was leaping in front of him. Styx cursed, watching helplessly as the ice slammed Viper against the wall and crawled over him like a living force. Within seconds, the male was completely encased in a layer of frost. Like a frozen cocoon.
An unwelcome sense of déjà vu clenched Styx’s stomach, forcing him back to that horrifying night when he’d been forced to destroy his old master.
He’d been in this cavern with Viper, finally forced to witness the spiraling madness that consumed the once proud King of the Vampires. And when his master had tried to strike a killing blow against Viper, it’d been Styx who’d stepped in front of his friend to take the blow, while Viper had used Styx’s massive sword to end the Anasso’s life.
Now the battle had been reversed. Viper had sacrificed himself so Styx could end the threat to the vampires.
Shaking off his fury at allowing Ian to catch them by surprise, Styx lifted his sword and glared at the male who dropped from the ceiling.
“Release him,” he snarled, warily studying the male, who stood in the center of the cavern.
Ian had changed. A shocking realization, considering that vampires didn’t age. His large frame had thinned to the point of emaciation. And his once-lustrous gray hair was now a lank curtain that framed his gaunt face. He was wearing a heavy leather coat that looked worn and frayed, along with slacks that were coated in dirt. As if he couldn’t be bothered with his appearance.
His eyes, however, still burned with the same frenetic fire.
“Did you hear me?” Styx snapped. “Release him.”
Ian smirked. “Poor idiot,” he taunted, glancing toward Viper, who was barely visible beneath the ice. “Yet another victim of your bloated ego.”
Styx cautiously moved forward. He couldn’t sense anyone else in the cavern, but he’d been caught off guard once; he wasn’t going to let it happen again.
“Ian—”
“Take another step, and I’ll destroy your companion,” Ian interrupted, lifting his hand toward Viper.
“Don’t,” Styx rasped, coming to an abrupt halt. He had no idea if Ian could actually kill Viper with his ice, but he wasn’t going to risk his friend’s life.
“That’s better.” Ian smiled with smug satisfaction. “I’ll admit that I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Styx lowered his sword. He was going to have to somehow distract Ian long enough to strike a killing blow. His lips twisted. Yeah. No problem.
“I didn’t expect to see you anywhere,” he said, stepping to the side so he was standing between Ian and the helpless Viper. “You were supposed to be dead.”
Ian shrugged. “I needed to disappear.”
“Why?”
The vampire reached beneath his coat to pull out a rolled sheet of parchment that was tied with a leather strap. He waved it toward Styx.
“I was searching for this.”
“What is it?”
“A scroll my master collected centuries ago.”
Styx frowned. He couldn’t detect magic, but he could smell the aged blood that clung to the parchment. In the olden days, witches often used sacrifices to create their spell.
“Magic,” he muttered.
“A very ancient magic.”
Styx glanced from Ian to the blackened stain on the stone floor, where his master had died.
“Do you really believe you can resurrect the Anasso?”
“Resurrect?” Ian looked momentarily baffled. As if Styx was speaking in a foreign language. Then his lips curled in disdain. “Ah. You’ve been talking to Locke.”
There was no point in denying his conversation with their fellow Raven. “He said you were planning a resurrection.”
Ian shook his head. “You can’t bring a vampire back from the dead.”
Styx blinked in confusion. Obviously, this male wasn’t the complete nutbar that he’d suspected, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t plotting something nefarious.
“Then what are you resurrecting?” he asked.
“The future.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?”
Ian gave another wave of the scroll. “This spell will take me to my master.”
Okay. He was right the first time. This male was a total nutbar. “He’s dead.”
Ian’s eyes smoldered with a pale fire, as if he was being consumed by some intense emotion burning deep inside him.
“I am well aware of that,” he growled.
“Then how can the magic take you to him?”
“It will return me to the last moments of his life.”
Styx tried to sort through the words. Was Ian saying he could use the magic to see what had happened just before the Anasso was killed? He’d heard that a few rare imps could try to peek into the past. But he sensed the male was hoping for more than a glimpse of his former master.
“Time travel?” he finally demanded.
“A brief visit.” Ian shrugged. “The witches created this as a way to say goodbye to a loved one. Or pass along important information.”
Styx resisted the urge to roll his eyes, covertly inching closer to the male. Any witch willing to use blood magic had no loved ones, dearly departed or not. It was, however, quite likely that witches used the magic to retrieve spells or incantations that might be lost by an unexpected death of a coven sister.
“You want to say goodbye?”
“No.” Ian snapped his fangs, like a rabid dog desperate to bite their enemy. “I want to be there so I can destroy you before you can strike the killing blow.”
Styx arched his brows. He thought trying to resurrect a vampire was crazy. But Ian’s belief that he could travel back to the moment when the old Anasso had died and somehow keep Viper from lopping off the male’s head was even more insane. There were strict limits on magic that prevented meddling in timelines.
“You can’t alter the past,” he said, as he took another step. And then another. He was still too far to risk an attack, but he was gaining ground. Right now that was enough.
“Watch me.” Ian removed the leather strap, tossing it away.