"I lush," Styx commanded as he pulled out the item he had been searching for and handed it to the demon.
Studying the small, laminated square, Levet gave a soft whistle. "Wow. She's a beauty, even in a driver's license picture. I wonder how she feels about interspecies dating? You know I'm a fine catch—"
"I want you to memorize the address," Styx interrupted. It was that or choking the annoying pest. If he so much as casted a lingering glance at Darcy, he would discover just what it meant to anger a master vampire.
"Why?"
"Darcy is concerned about her plants. I want you to go to her apartment and collect them."
There was a silent beat as Levet regarded him as if he had grown a second head.
"Her plants?"
"Yes."
"And you want me to bring them here?"
Styx gave an impatient hiss. It really wasn't that difficult a task.
"Of course bring them here."
"Okaaaay."
"Is something the matter?"
"No." An annoying smile crossed the creature's grotesque features. "I think it's lovely that you are concerned about her plants."
"I am not." Styx pointed toward the door. "Just go."
Levet gave a ridiculous bat of his lashes. "Anything else while I'm there? A stuffed toy? Or her favorite blanket?"
"You can bring her clothes," Styx abruptly decided. "Humans seem to have a preference for familiar items."
"Very thoughtful of you."
Styx slowly narrowed his gaze. "Do you have any other observations you wish to make?"
Entirely missing the lethal edge in Styx's soft voice, the gargoyle allowed his smile to widen as he regarded his host's black leather pants, high boots, sheer silk shirt, and delicate turquoise amulets threaded through his braid.
The smile became positively huge as Styx shifted in discomfort.
"Well, I was going to compliment you on your appearance. Such elegance for a vampire who was happy to grub about in caves. Such savoir faire—" The words broke off as Styx took a threatening step forward. "I... urn ... not at the moment. I'll just be on my way."
"You are smarter than you look, demon," Styx growled.
Waiting until the gargoyle had scuttled from the kitchen, Styx turned on his heel and headed through the distant door.
By the gods, he would not be mocked by a miniature gargoyle.
He was a grown man, and if he desired to take care with his appearance, it was no one's concern but his own.
It had nothing to do with his beautiful captive.
He gave a small grimace.
All right. Maybe it did have something to do with Darcy. Maybe it had everything to do with Darcy. But it was still not the concern of a busybody gargoyle.
Making his way through the dark house, he paused at one of the unused bedrooms to gather a thick brocade robe left behind by Viper before returning to the hall and opening the door to Darcy's room.