Darkness Unleashed

by McKenzie Hunter

  “I guess I will,” I said in the stern voice.

  She grinned, a devilish look, and took out her phone and handed it to me. “Fine, I’ll wait. Go ahead. Call him and tell him you want to go into the vampire’s lair with no backup a few days after you killed his Mistress. In your self-righteous indignation, tell him you want to meet with a man who took a chunk out of your neck with just the security of a knife hidden in your pants. This might be the most entertaining thing I’ll see all week.” She rested back in her leather seat, firmly wrapped in smug derision.

  Humility had a chalky aftertaste.

  I ignored the phone and fixed her with a hard glare. “Fine. You stay out here. Don’t you dare go in there unless you’re absolutely sure I’m being attacked,” I commanded.

  “Ethan instructed me to give you ten minutes, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Whatever you need to do, you need to do it fast.”

  “And I am instructing you to give me time. Ten minutes isn’t enough. Unless you hear something break, like glass shattering, don’t come in. I’ll be fine.” I saw the conflict on her face. As Ethan’s mate, I held his status, but he’d commanded her first. My life with Ethan was just a myriad of complications, rules, and acts of propriety, and it wasn’t getting any easier. I glanced inside her car again and made a face. “Who carries a flamethrower, you freak?”

  “It’s called being prepared. The foundation of being prepared is not hanging out with vampires, and it’s definitely not going into their homes in the middle of the night. That’s just asking for trouble. But you march to your own drummer—he’s tone-deaf and possibly on drugs. Go in there. Try to save the world and hope Demetrius finds it as annoying as everyone else does.” She grabbed the large blade next to her and ran her finger along its edge.

  I opened my mouth to defend myself but decided against it. Nothing I said would justify this in her book. She was like many other were-animals when it came to vampires; they thought the only time to talk to a vampire was to explain why they were staking or beheading them.

  I stood planted in front of her.

  She shooed me away. “Go prattle on about whatever you plan to do and hope he has the poor sense to actually touch you. A touch is all he has to do for me to kick his ass.”

  I didn’t point out that the last time she and Demetrius had fought, when I’d first met the pack, he’d kicked her ass. She didn’t need the reminder—something like that would likely leave her with a grudge, which explained the cache of weapons she had with her. Eventually, Demetrius would pay.

  I backed away from her, dismissing her statement with a flick of my eyes. When I was two feet from Demetrius’s front door, I heard a rumble; glowing eyes peeked out from the woods that surrounded his home. As moonlight hit the shimmering black coat, the stately animal moved forward to make his presence known.

  “Hi, Kitty. I guess you’re here to rip somebody apart, too.”

  Baring his teeth, he made a low roaring sound. He wasn’t nearly as happy to be on my security detail and possibly a vampire slayer as Winter did. The two of them were the pack members who could get to Demetrius the fastest. I should have known I’d have guards. Ethan had been too passive about me going to meet with Demetrius. No wonder he hadn’t been waiting for me at my car as I’d expected. I’d been prepared to tell him that if he showed up, Demetrius wouldn’t be as helpful and would probably be a total jerk just to piss Ethan off.

  I hadn’t attempted to be quiet as I made my way to Demetrius’s door, and he must have heard me because the door was slightly ajar, and he was watching me as I approached. Arrogance shrouded Demetrius’s expectant appearance and he smiled as he opened his front door wider, giving me room to enter. His smirk didn’t falter as he took several steps back. “To what do I owe this late-night visit?” he asked, his tone low and sultry. My eye roll came automatically. He could make the word butterfly sound salacious and dirty. “I hope it is to inform me of the day on which you plan to return Chris to me.”

  “Quell is back,” I blurted, ignoring his question about Chris.

  “I’m aware,” he offered nonchalantly.

  A cold, hard silence overtook the room as he fixed me with a look of indifference. He broke it by saying, “Elisabeth,” with a gentle, satiny rhythm as if he were reciting an ode.

  Moments later, a slender woman with hair as dark as coal and dewy, honey-colored skin approached him. She was definitely human and walked with the grace of a trained dancer. Rose and currant wafted through the air upon her arrival. Describing her as beautiful wasn’t adequate. She was striking and exquisite. Her light brown eyes weren’t hollow, however, but soft and delicate. Trying to understand vampires was an exercise in futility, but I’d pegged them as overindulgent children only interested in things they perceived as beautiful. They were self-professed collectors of beauty.

  As I looked around his home at the exquisite art that decorated the walls, tables, and stands, I wondered what they found so unpleasant about life that they needed to always surround themselves with eye candy. Case in point: Elisabeth. Once she was within reach, Demetrius curled his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. His fingers caressed the satin dress draped over her frame. She wore nothing under it—the thin material left nothing to the imagination. Without Demetrius asking, she tilted her head, exposing her long, slender neck to him.

  He smiled, baring his fangs before his tongue slowly slid over her neck. Then he sank his fangs into her. His long, languid fingers roved over her body intimately as he fed on her. I wasn’t sure which was more disgusting, her purrs of pleasure or the lascivious way he was touching her. Demetrius was putting on a show to make me feel uncomfortable. He kept his eyes on me as he took long draws from her. I refused to give him the satisfaction of my discomfort. I watched. After several minutes that felt like hours, he pulled away. He didn’t bother laving the bite to cover it. Elisabeth’s eyes were hazy, and her face was relaxed in a euphoric, erotic state.

  “Would you like to join me?” he asked, offering her to me. He licked her neck leisurely as his hands moved over her, cupping her breast and touching her suggestively with his fingers.

  “Not even a little.”

  “Your eyes show otherwise; are you sure?”

  I assumed my terait was showing. “My eyes are deceiving. I’m so sure it can be written on my tombstone. There will never be a time in my life when I will eat anything you’ve had, licked, or even looked at too long. I don’t want blood or anything else you’re offering.”

  His brows rose, his tongue moving languidly over his lips without removing the trail of blood that ran along the side of his mouth.

  “Elisabeth, you can leave.” She looked dejected, as if my rejection of Demetrius’s offering were a slight. Turning to face him, she licked the rivulet of blood with her tongue before covering his mouth with hers. Another uncomfortable moment that stretched far too long as they locked lips in a sensual kiss. He released her, and as requested, like a submissive servant, she left us. I could no longer hide my disgust.

  “I see you’re still mourning Michaela’s death,” I said.

  His dark chuckle filled the large room. “I don’t think I need to go over the fact that we don’t recognize the emotional standards and limits you all put on pleasure and joy. I am indeed still mourning Michaela. I just don’t mourn based on your beliefs. I’ve lost before. When you’ve lived as long as I have, experiencing great loss is inevitable.” He closed the distance between us.

  The deep rumble of his voice held a hint of warning. “Unless you are ready to give me Chris, there is no reason for you to be here.”

  “Quell isn’t well.”

  “So? That is of little interest to me. He was Michaela’s pet, not mine.” He moved to the window, where he had to see Winter and Gavin. “You left your home in the middle of the night, leaving Ethan, to do what? Ask me to help Quell?” He chortled, a loud, jovial sound that seemed too light for the Master of Darkness and Death.

 
; In a flash of movement, he returned to his position in front of me. Close—too close. His breath was cool against my cheek as he spoke. “You left your mate to beg me to assist another man.” Before I could push him away, he laughed again and moved back several feet. “Ethan can’t be enjoying this. Delectable. This is absolutely delectable. My vampire has that type of hold over you. A hold not even Ethan has. How did he look when you told him you were going into the lion’s den to ask for help for another? I do believe I’d pay a handsome fee to see the look on his face when you told him.”

  I swallowed hard, searching for a defense and something as scathing as his words. He was right. I’d given little thought to how Ethan felt about me leaving in the middle of the night to speak with Demetrius to help Quell. My mouth dried, and my stomach curled at the thought of being so selfish and inconsiderate, but I refused to let Demetrius get the upper hand.

  “Ethan’s confident in our relationship and understands that Quell and I have is a friendship.”

  He chuckled again. “Friendship,” he spat with disgust. His gaze remained on me, evaluating me with a peculiar interest.

  “Yes, and if you knew how to have a real one with Chris, perhaps she wouldn’t have left you.”

  He dismissed my comment with a quick jerk of his wrist. “Chris is having a little fit and making a statement.”

  “Yes, and the statement is she hates you. And it’s loud and clear. She’s never been one for subtlety.”

  He flinched and looked as if he’d been slapped. For a brief moment, the arrogance, confidence, and hubris faltered. He appeared wounded. He was a man who had a distorted view of love, relationships, and friendships. He’d never been denied and couldn’t deal with rejection. I forced myself to remember his arrogance and cruelty. The indomitable vampire who felt the world and the people in it existed only to please him didn’t deserve any emotions that were anything close to sympathy. Then I focused on Elisabeth, whose life he’d probably turned upside down. She probably hoped he would turn her one day, but instead, she existed only to feed him and satisfy his other cravings. I couldn’t be cruel and revel in his moment of unhappiness, but I wouldn’t give him any form of compassion, either.

  “She hates you, and it isn’t without reason. Have you ever considered treating her as anything other than ‘a wild one you’d like to break’ or a possession?” I said, tossing back the very things he’d said about her in the past.

  “I created her. She is mine to do with as I please.”

  Welcome back, jackass.

  “Which is the very reason she isn’t here. She isn’t your property, and you don’t get to do with her as you please. You saved her life because it meant something to you. Don’t twist it into something it isn’t and make it seem as though she owes you blind loyalty.” From his fixed look of entitlement, it was clear I wasn’t getting through to him. I backed up toward the door. “You’re cruel without cause and unnecessarily selfish. You don’t think of anyone but yourself. You rule by fear and totalitarianism, but eventually, that won’t be enough. Maybe you can descend from your fucking high horse and show you are capable of selflessness and actual acts of kindness. Then people might follow you for more reasons than obligation and the obscure bond that exists because you created them. As you can see with what happened with Chris, that bond eventually won’t be enough.”

  The hard lines of his lips stayed stiff. “She doesn’t hate me,” he whispered.

  “Who are you trying to convince, me or you?”

  I backed out the door, watching his eyes go blank and the expression slip from his face. I didn’t know if he was considering what I’d said or working on another way to get Chris back.

  “She doesn’t hate me,” he repeated, even lower.

  “You haven’t given her reason to do anything but. You said you enjoyed breaking the wild ones—I think she does, too. Right now, you seem to be the broken one.” I gave him another long, assessing look. He wasn’t broken, but distraught. Was it from genuine loss and emptiness over Chris’s absence or a blow to his inflated and fragile ego? He was so used to doing as he pleased with impunity. With Chris, his actions had consequences.

  I left Demetrius’s not totally convinced that Chris hated him. Their relationship, much like his relationship with Michaela, was something I would never understand. Maybe he was right and she was making a point. Nevertheless, she’d left him. Part of me knew that if she truly hated him, she would’ve killed him when she’d held a knife to his throat. She’d let him live. Perhaps there was some truth to the bond between creator and created, sired and master. I didn’t understand it, and it would probably take me a lifetime to ever do so.

  Ethan was up when I returned home, sitting in the living room with his laptop open. When I opened the door, his eyes lifted from the screen in my direction. His voice was just as emotionless as his face when he spoke. “Did you resolve your issue?”

  I shook my head, moving over to the sofa and sitting next to him. He rested his hand on my leg and squeezed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “About what, Sky?” His tone betrayed no emotions; there might have been some legitimacy to what Demetrius had said. My life was a combination of odd relationships I couldn’t quite understand, and my relationship with Quell was the epitome of them.

  “Quell. I don’t know why I care so much about him and feel connected to him. But I am, and I feel like I should do whatever I can to help him. Part of me feels like it’s wrong to care about him the way I do. Explaining it is impossible.”

  He closed his laptop, put in on the table, and turned to face me. After a long moment of deliberation, he frowned, and looked away. Eventually, he returned his attention to me. “I don’t understand you and Quell,” he admitted. “You would move heaven and earth for him. For him. And do questionable and even dangerous things for him. You even built that greenhouse for him, knowing it made you the target of Michaela’s wrath. You have a connection with him, different from those you have with Josh and Steven. It may be platonic for you, but it’s not for him. There’s something else to it. It’s like I’m sharing you, because no matter what happens, if Quell shows up, there’s a wedge between us.”

  Words moved around in my head and I tried so hard to find the right ones to defend my actions, to say the justifiable thing, the appropriate thing to fix this, but I doubted there was anything I could say that could explain it or disprove that he was sharing me. “You aren’t sharing me with anyone,” I murmured.

  He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. It lacked his typical passion and sensuality. It was pensive and disconnected, similar to his voice moments earlier. He kept his lips pressed against mine. It was as if he couldn’t detach himself from me. “I won’t share you, Sky.”

  Pressing my hand flat against his cheek, I kissed him. It was warm, gentle, and emotional. “I broke him and forced him into a life he didn’t want,” I whispered. “That’s the only thing I can say. I’m not sure if you can understand it. He was content to die—ready for it.”

  Ethan’s eyes shone with interest and a desire to understand. I wasn’t sure if it was for me or because he couldn’t function in the unknown. He had to know, even if the reason was twisted or incongruous with the norms of behavior. All facets of a situation needed to be revealed to him. It was his personality, who he was, and it supported his role in the pack. He needed to know and understand, but there wasn’t anything more ambiguous than my relationship with Quell. Patiently, he waited for me to gather my words.

  “He was ready to die, and I made him feed on me. I made him taste blood, my blood. A bond was formed. It was my blood and my decision to save his life that left a disconnect between his old life and his new one. He’s seen so much. Functioning in this new life is hard for him. I think he sees himself as a monster—”

  “He is a monster,” Ethan interjected.

  I shook my head. “No, he’s a person who was forced to do things he found reprehensible to save other people. H
e’s the furthest thing from a monster, and the fact he still mourns the deaths he caused is a testament to it. He’s more than a monster, more than human. He can’t forgive himself, but he deserves to.” I sighed. “I just want him to stay around until he can do it, so he can at least live a life where he’s not burdened by it.”

  “And if that day never comes?”

  “Then, I will let him go.”

  Ethan nodded, his thumb gently stroking my cheek in silence. I didn’t see the understanding I wanted in his eyes. There was still intrigue, concern, and a regretful acceptance, and I wasn’t sure exactly what to make of them.

  He rose to his feet and started for the bedroom. “He asked you to take his life—I think he’s asking you to let go. You’re not willing to.” And with that, he disappeared into the bedroom.

  I showered because I didn’t like Demetrius’s scent on me any more than Ethan did.

  Easing into the bed, I reflected on Ethan’s words. Quell was asking for it. I just couldn’t. I wished I could. I tried to attribute the disdain I held for most vampires to him, but I couldn’t do it because he wasn’t just some vampire.

  CHAPTER 4

  Ethan left early that morning to post bail for Steven. As I waited for him to return, I finally understood what Sebastian was talking about. I was a tightly wound ball of emotions, and everything felt overwhelming. I checked my e-mail, but no one had responded to the number of job applications I’d completed over the week. The pack stipend paid my bills, but once I could no longer pay my membership fees, that money would dwindle. That was just another thing added to my mountain of worries. I tried to focus on Steven, but the situation with Quell constantly entered my mind. Would he give up on me and find someone else to take his life, or would he do it himself?

  For several hours, I busied myself working on resumes and sending them out. When Steven stepped into the house behind Ethan, I felt palpable relief. It had only been two days, but it felt much longer. The fact that Steven seemed undisturbed lifted the heavy weight I’d been carrying. I wasn’t sure if he was playing it cool for my benefit or if, in fact, it wasn’t a big deal.