The decision to give in to the Dark Lord’s promises of power in return for becoming his servant.
The decision to help the vampire Gaius and his idiot cur partners in their attempts to capture the prophet and her Were protector.
All bad.
But nothing topped her latest.
Why the hell had she ever thought it would be a good idea to approach the King of Vampires?
Only a month ago she would have laughed at anyone who suggested she would be seeking out the Anasso. She was, after all, determined to lay low now the Dark Lord was dead and forget she knew anything about demons or witches or evil deities. In a few years she could change her name and start over. Only this time she intended to stay strictly among humans.
With that in mind she’d washed the black dye from her shoulder-length hair to reveal the deep red tresses streaked with gold that nature had intended for her. Her pale, almost fragile features were no longer marred with piercings or the black, goth makeup she’d used to disguise herself. In fact, her big brown eyes and full lips were devoid of cosmetics. Even her love for short skirts and barely there tops had been replaced by jeans and sweatshirts.
Then she’d disappeared into Gaius’s home in the Louisiana swamps. Why not? There were few places more isolated, and it wasn’t as if the vampire would need the place. Not after he’d been killed in the battle with the Dark Lord.
Everything should have been perfect.
Only it wasn’t perfect.
A week ago she’d returned to the house after a quick visit to the nearest grocery store to find that not only was Gaius alive, but he’d become a mindless, feral animal who was obviously protecting something or someone in the house.
Terrified by the vampire’s strange behavior, not to mention wanting him out of the house she’d claimed for herself, she’d retreated into the swamps and prepared a repulsion spell that should have worked on even the most powerful vampire.
She might hate her mother, but the bitch had trained her to brew some wicked black magic.
But once the spell was prepared and she’d crept back to the house to cast it during the power of the full moon, she’d discovered the house was being protected by a force that went beyond anything she’d felt before.
And that was saying something for a witch who’d been in the employ of an evil god.
Realizing there was something seriously weird going on, she had impulsively driven to this lair and demanded an audience with Styx. It was worth a try.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been for the powerful, lethally beautiful vampire to invite her into his private study where another vampire with long, silver hair and the face of a fallen angel had been standing in the corner. She’d somehow assumed she would be handed off to a flunky to deal with her concerns. But instead the two powerful demons had listened to her claims with a convincing display of interest.
Styx had murmured all the right words and even offered her a cup of her favorite tea. And she’d fallen for his faux sincerity hook, line, and sinker.
“Come into the parlor, said the spider to the fly. . . .”
Sipping her tea, she’d been in the middle of telling him precisely why Gaius had to be captured when she’d felt her tongue go thick and her eyes drift shut.
Drugged.
The coldhearted, treacherous jackasses.
She’d woken only a few minutes ago, her tongue coated in fuzz and her magic muted by the hexes scrawled on the silver walls.
She did have her secret weapon, but it was a talent that only worked on humans, never demons. Or at least it hadn’t until a few weeks ago when she’d accidentally used it on a hellhound who had strayed too close to the house.
She didn’t know if her connection to the Dark Lord had muted her natural talents, or if she’d reached some critical age where it finally blossomed. More likely the hellhound had been weak and she’d been pumped up on adrenaline when it had suddenly appeared on her porch.
In any case, she’d have to be an idiot to try it on a vampire or even a pure-blooded Were.
If she failed and they realized what she’d tried to do . . . Well, being tossed in a cell would be the least of her worries.
Damn Styx and his leech squad. She hated this feeling of helplessness. She’d promised in the past that she would never again allow herself to be at the mercy of others.
Why else would she have agreed to worship the Dark Lord? Or partnered with Gaius?
Now she was back to the beginning.
Prey.