As he had told Darcy, he wasn't an animal.
Taking a woman against her will was utterly repugnant. Even it did mean gaining the precious children they so desperately needed.
So now what?
Salvatore stiffened as the scent of expensive perfume filled the air. Just for a moment he considered making a dodge for the nearby window. He could easily scamper up the side of the building and make his way to the roof.
His teeth snapped together as he realized the cowardly direction of his thoughts. He feared no man, and certainly no woman.
Not even Sophia.
Forcing himself to lean casually against the desk, he was calmly sipping his brandy when the door was pressed open and the beautiful pureblood strolled into the room.
A faint smile touched her lips as she halted before him and allowed her brazen gaze to roam over him.
"Poor Salvatore, you don't look particularly happy for a man about to bed his consort," she drawled.
He sighed with deliberate boredom. "Go away, Sophia."
The green eyes flashed with annoyance. She was a woman who expected every man in her vicinity to be panting with desire when she was near.
"How can I?" Her gaze dropped to his half-empty glass. "As a mother I must be concerned when I discover my daughter's mate drowning his sorrow in brandy."
"One shot is hardly drowning."
"Ah, then you're drinking because it's the only way you can force yourself to do your duty?" She gave a mocking click of her tongue. "How sad."
"Shut up, Sophia."
"You don't find her attractive?"
"I find her considerably more attractive than her mother."
"Brutal." She gave a short, brittle laugh. "Tell me what's bothering you."
Salvatore drained the last of his brandy and set the glass on his desk with a loud click.
"Your daughter has decided that she doesn't particularly care to have me as her consort."
"What does it matter?" Sophia gave an indifferent shrug. "She's here now and in your power."
"And unwilling." He abruptly straightened, resisting the urge to backhand the woman. Sophia liked her men rough. He wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. "I don't rape women."
Easily sensing his smoldering violence, Sophia offered a taunting smile.
"Surely you don't doubt your powers of persuasion? Really, Salvatore, I thought you had more balls than that."
He gave a low growl. How in the hell that sweet, innocent child upstairs had ever possibly come from this woman's womb would forever be a mystery.
"My balls are not the problem. She believes she's in love with the vampire."
"So? She'll forget him in time." Sophia reached out to draw a manicured nail down Salvatore's cheek. "Love is nothing more than a false elusion that men use to trap women into perpetual bondage."
Salvatore grimaced. "Charming."
"Surely you don't believe in love?"
Salvatore kept his expression impassive. Love among the Weres was now no more than a myth. The pursuit of children had become the consuming goal, and nothing so mundane as emotions, even passion, was allowed to interfere.
It would be seen as nothing less than a fatal weakness if he were to admit that in the depths of the night he longed to discover that one woman who could be his true mate.
Realizing that Sophia was studying him with a growing curiosity, Salvatore forced himself to give a nonchalant shrug.
"It doesn't matter if I do or not. As long as Darcy.. ."
"Oh, for God's sake, just go upstairs and get it over with," Sophia growled with annoyance. "Once you have her pregnant you can hand her over to someone who doesn't possess your refined sensibilities. What about Huntley? He has a taste for forcing himself on reluctant women."
Salvatore stiffened. He couldn't believe even Sophia would be callous enough to hand her daughter over to such a savage animal.
"You really are a bitch."
"Yes, I know."
Reaching up his hand, Salvatore was on the point of physically removing the annoying woman from his study when he came to an abrupt halt.
His senses sharpened to full alert as he tilted back his head and sniffed the air.
"Something comes."
Sophia gave a sharp hiss. "Damn, it's the vampires."
"Good." A cold smile touched Salvatore's lips. All thoughts of Darcy and his unpleasant duty were forgotten as a flare of anticipation raced through him. This was what he wanted. The opportunity to rid himself of the bane of his existence once and for all. Rightly or wrongly he held the vampires entirely to blame for the decline of the Weres. And more especially, Styx. They would pay for the wrongs done to his race. "Once Styx enters my lair I will be free to kill him. Not even the Commission could condemn a Were for protecting his territory."
Sophia paced the room with obvious agitation. "You think he will be so foolish?"
"Don't you pay attention to anything?"
She sent him a sharp glare. "If you have something to say, just spit it out."
"He's mated her."
"Mated?" She stumbled to a halt.
"I could smell him all over her. Nothing will halt him from trying to get to her."
"Are you insane?" Sophia was pale as her hand raised to her heart. "A mated vampire? He'll kill us all."
"I'm not without skill in battle, Sophia," Salvatore snapped, his pride stung. "I already have the curs in place and a number of nasty surprises prepared. They will not find us the easy prey that they expect."
Sophia gave a humorless laugh as she headed toward the door.
"You are a fool, Salvatore, and I for one do not intend to remain to be slaughtered by the bloodsuckers."
"Fine, run away, Sophia. I am done bowing and scraping to the arrogant bastards. I intend to stay and fight."
She paused to glance over her shoulder. "I'll return and bury what's left of your carcass."
Salvatore watched as the door closed behind her retreating form before turning his head and spitting on the ground.
"Coward."
Despite his undoubted skill and the fluid grace of his movements, Styx found himself struggling to keep pace with the tiny gargoyle.
Not surprising considering that Levet's small stature made him a perfect fit for the cramped drainpipe, whereas Styx's far larger body was bent nearly double.
Even worse, the stencil that filled the stale air was enough to repulse the most determined demon.
Kicking aside a rat large enough to swallow a small car, Styx bumped his head on a steel bolt that jutted from above.
"By the gods, gargoyle, slow your pace," he hissed as his fingers rose to stem the sudden flow of blood.
Levet glanced over his shoulder with a twitch of his wings. "I thought you were eager to reach Darcy?"
Styx growled low in his throat. The need to be with his mate had him nearly crazed. Only the realization that cool, concise logic was what was necessary to reach Darcy kept his howling ache at bay.
"In the event you haven't noticed, I am considerably larger than you."
Levet narrowed his gaze. "Oh sure, throw your size in my face."
Styx maintained his patience with an effort. If he didn't know that the gargoyle adored Darcy nearly as much as he did, he would already have choked the annoying twit.
"My point is that I find it much more difficult to sneak through sewers. How much farther must we go?"
As if sensing Styx's fragile control, the gargoyle became unnaturally somber.
"There is an opening just a few yards ahead."
Well, thank the gods for that. "And it opens into the underground parking lot?"
"Yes. There are stairs we can take to the upper floors."
"They will no doubt be guarded," Styx muttered, frustrated by his inability to sense through the heavy iron that surrounded him. He didn't doubt for a moment that Viper and his clansmen were already surrounding the decrepit hotel. And that the wolves were fully distracted by the horde of vampires. But he wasn't about to underestimate Salvatore. He wouldn't leave Darcy completely unprotected. "We must strike before any alarm can be raised."
"Do not concern yourself, vampire. I have the perfect spell..."
"No. No spells," Styx commanded in a fierce tone. "I will deal with any curs we might encounter."
Levet gave an offended grunt. "Ungrateful sod."
"I've seen your magic, Levet. I won't risk Darcy to your mishaps."
The gargoyle flashed a sly smile over his shoulder. "You have it bad, ancient one."
If he hoped to bait Styx, he was wasting his time. Styx had reconciled himself to the knowledge that his world now revolved around one tiny female. And astonishingly, it had been almost painless. Almost. "She is my mate."
Levet fell mercifully silent as they tromped through the guck of the drain pipe. Not that Styx expected it would last. The sky was more likely to fall than this gargoyle keep his lips from flapping.
The miracle lasted less than a minute. Clearing his throat, Levet kept his face turned forward.