"No doubt a wise choice." She walked across the floor, not seeming to mind the bare shelves and only partially Finished fountain. She gently touched her hand to a frosted pane. "Levet told me of Viper and his wife. Is she a vampire as well?"
He silently moved to stand behind her. "Actually, she is like you. A mixture of human and demon."
Her body tensed at his words. "We don't know if I do have demon blood. Not yet."
Styx studied her reflection in the glass. "You are something more than human."
"Maybe."
Sensing her reluctance to consider the possibility of demon blood, he easily turned the conversation.
"If you would like, I can ask Shay to visit so you can speak with her."
She turned with a curious expression. "According to Levet, she is not very happy with you."
He grimaced. "We have a... difficult past. And she's angry that I have taken you as my guest."
"Guest?"
"Prisoner, if you prefer."
"I like her already."
Styx abruptly wished he had not suggested that Shay visit. Darcy was already determined to hold him at a damnable distance. Once Shay revealed his past this woman would consider him nothing less than a monster.
"Perhaps we should wait for her visit until..." Styx's words came to a halt as he leaned close to the curve of her neck.
The scent was faint, but unmistakable.
Werewolf.
Disbelief was followed closely by a cold stab of anger.
In the past hour Darcy had been in the company of Salvatore. The bastard had actually possessed the sheer balls to invade his home and somehow corner Darcy while she was alone.
Even worse, this woman had deliberately concealed the encounter.
No wonder she had seemed distracted.
Had Salvatore threatened her if she revealed his outrageous trespassing? Or had the Were managed to convince her that he was harmless?
Were they even now plotting her escape?
"Styx?"
Realizing that Darcy was staring at him with a growing suspicion, Styx eased his tension and even managed a faint smile. He had only known this woman a short time, but it was enough to convince him that he could never force her to confess her secrets.
Not without resorting to vampire tricks.
Something he was oddly reluctant to do unless all else failed, of course.
"Is something the matter?" she demanded.
"What could possibly be the matter?"
She frowned at his tight tone, but any response she might have made was interrupted when the door to the conservatory was rudely thrown open and a grumbling Levet stomped into the room.
"Sacre bleu, do you think you could have possibly chosen a more miserable night to send me plodding around the city as if I am a packhorse?" He gave a shake of his wings, sending snow flying through the room. "Perhaps tomorrow night you would like me to build you a snowman and dance around it na**d."