Let Sleeping Demons Lie: Godhunter: Book 25

by Amy Sumida

  Chapter Thirty

  I woke up to murmuring voices. It was like a bad dream; pieces of the day before were returning, but I couldn't believe those horrors had actually happened to me, or that I had reacted in such a weak, imbecilic way. Who was that person? Not I; not the Godhunter.

  I growled as I made my way out of the cocoon of blankets and rolled out of Fenrir's bed. Had I really come here like an insane person and asked Fenrir to hurt me? Did he really hold me all night like a child? I groaned and covered my face with my hands. I thought I'd come so far; that I was strong enough to face anything. I held the nine-pointed star in my chest and had stopped the end of the world—a couple times. I was a powerful warrior, and no man could lay me low like that; with lies and kisses. Not anymore.

  Right after that horrible thing with Katila happened—I couldn't label it yet—I knew I was going to be the one to hold it together. It was just sex; just my body. Katila could never touch me; never have the part of me I gave the men I loved. This was nothing; just another hit that I would roll with. I told myself I would lead Trevor through the healing, and I knew that the wolf inside me would guide me in it. She always told me what Trevor needed. I was going to be his rock and bring him back as I had Kirill.

  But then Trevor had snarled at me and everything went to shit. Yes; it was time for some real cursing. It went to shit. I broke under that harsh glare; beneath a beloved stare turned cruel. I know now that it was Trevor's reaction to my dragon half-form, but, at the time, it had seemed so damning. So final.

  I hated that I'd been weak when Trevor needed me. That instead of talking him down, I'd encouraged him to break. I welcomed his claws instead of showing him that he was hurting me. I demanded blood, but from the wrong source. I should have focused our anger out toward Katila, but I brought it inward instead. I took Trevor over the edge with me. Like a drowning woman; I panicked and dragged him into the abyss.

  I cried out in fear and anger. Would we be able to get past this? In desperation, I reached down our link again; looking for Trevor... and I felt something.

  I stumbled in shock. I reached again. Trevor was there! He was back. But there was something different about him. His energy was off; he felt more... savage. He was...

  “He's still a wolf,” Fenrir said as he came into the bedroom. “I've found Trevor, but he's not in control yet.”

  “Okay,” I said calmly.

  I could deal with this. Today I would be the woman that I should have been the day before. I'd do whatever had to be done to get my wolf back.

  “Tell me where he is; I'll go and talk him back into his human form,” I said.

  “You don't understand,” Fenrir said grimly. “He is in his human form; he's even talking and acting like a man. But he isn't a man, Little Frami; he's a wolf. And not just any wolf; he's the heir to mine. I recognized his sharp intellect and his savage logic; it was like having a conversation with my own alter self. Trevor's wolf has been watching and waiting for centuries; learning how to speak and move like a human. He'll trick you and corner you. He'll say things that will be true, but only in the most basic way. He will hurt you without meaning to. The wolf doesn't understand that truth has nuances and the way you present it can twist it into a lie. You can't go near him right now, Vervain.”

  “The hell I can't,” I growled. “I know our truths; he can't twist them. He can't twist us.”

  “He is a part of Trevor, but he doesn't see things as Trevor does,” Fenrir tried again. “He will not listen to you, Daughter. You will not be able to reason with him as you do with Trevor. Please, trust me on this; I've seen it before.”

  “The Eclipse,” I whispered.

  “Yes; the Eclipse,” Fenrir said gently. “Normally, it hits a man whose mate has died. When the love is so great that the pain is unbearable, the wolf will take over for the man and end things quickly.”

  “Are you saying that Trevor is going to commit suicide?” I nearly shrieked.

  “No.” Fenrir held up a staying hand. “This isn't that type of Eclipse. Trevor experienced something that hurt him so deeply that he didn't want to feel it; he couldn't bear to feel it. As I said, our wolves have a different perspective than us; they are more practical in a way. A wolf doesn't wallow in pain; he licks his wounds and fights on. They are a great comfort when we face a trauma of this magnitude. But the Eclipse is supposed to be a temporary thing; ending in death. This wolf has no end to face; he's been given free rein without a time limit, and he's basking in it. I will have to pull him back slowly.”

  “Where is he?” I asked simply.

  “No, Vervain,” Fenrir growled.

  “Where is he?!” I shouted, and my wolf came out with it; adding her fury to my voice.

  “He's at the club,” Fenrir whispered with wide eyes. “Sweet moonbeams, maybe you can bring him back.”

  “Of course, I can,” I growled. “I've gone to the Void to bring my men back. Do you think I'd do any less for Trevor?”

  “There's my girl.” Fenrir began to smile and then looked down pointedly. “Perhaps you should change first.”

  I took a look at my bedraggled self and the stained coat I wore. I think it was Azrael's. Then I sighed deeply and rushed forward to hug Fenrir.

  “Thank you, Father,” I whispered. “You brought me back. Now, let me bring him back.”

  “Ah, Little Frami,” Fenrir said as he held me. “You will always find shelter here. You don't have to thank me for it.”

  I eased away—my smile a shaky, fragile thing—and I headed for the door.

  “Your other husbands are in the dining hall,” Fenrir said. “Don't you dare leave them here and force me to deal with them. They're like a flock of squawking chickens; I'm about ready to snap some necks.”

  I laughed. “I won't leave them.”

  “And, Little Frami,” he called out.

  I turned around.

  “Wait until dark to approach him,” Fenrir suggested. “He will feel safer—stronger—and that will make him more receptive to you. A wolf doesn't engage unless he believes he'll win.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Never forget that it's the animal you deal with, not the man,” Fenrir warned one last time. “He is Trevor, but he isn't. He will be cunning and cruel, but he will love you fiercely too. Exploit that if you have to. The beast will not know how to battle his own heart.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I was finally able to wrestle out a smile for him. “Don't worry; I won't let him go this time.”

  Fenrir chuckled. “I think it might be the other way around.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I did as Fenrir advised and took my men home, cleaned up, and waited for dark. I forced myself to eat and spend some time with Lesya—storing up my physical and emotional strength—before I got ready to confront my husband.

  I decided to wear something a little more wild; a black leather dress, knee-high boots, and black, silk underwear. My hair was loose and tousled—a rampant mass of waves down my back—and my makeup was dark; black eyeshadow and red, kiss-proof lipstick. I felt as if I were going to battle.

  My husbands and boyfriends would be staying home, though it galled them to do so. I didn't want Trevor to see them and getting spooked. They understood and even agreed, but it's hard to let someone you love head into battle alone. Every one of them was grim-faced and tense.

  I kissed them goodbye and stepped into the tracing room with a shiver in my belly. I determinedly pushed away my anxiety; this was Trevor. I knew him as well as I knew myself. And I knew his wolf too. How many times had I seen the savage glint in Trevor's eyes and known that it wasn't just a man holding me? Innumerable. I could do this.

  I stepped out of the Aether and into Moonshine's basement. I was in a cement corridor with doors on both the left and right of me and a flight of steel stairs directly ahead. There were rooms down here that we rented out to vampires who accidentally stayed out past dawn, but they were all currently empty. The night was still stron
g; daylight hours far away. Hopefully, Trevor would feel strong too.

  I climbed the stairs and strode out into the club on the VIP balcony; my footsteps muffled by fake grass. I gave the balcony a quick glance, saw that it was empty—odd but not unheard of—and moved to the railing with confident steps. Stepping into Moonshine had hardened my resolve and squashed my anxiety. I wouldn't fail because I couldn't; it would destroy me. Whatever it took; I would see it done and bring my wolf prince home.

  I searched the club carefully. Moonshine was decorated to resemble a forest; with fake hills, stones, and grass covering the warehouse floor, and realistic trees “planted” everywhere. A river rushed by on my right before plummeting over the edge to be collected in a rock basin below. Soft lights glinted in the tree branches below, but up on the balcony, they were turned off. That was stranger than the lack of VIP patrons. I had a feeling that Trevor's wolf was hunting, and he preferred to do it in the dark.

  Was he even now watching me? Did he stand somewhere below me; waiting for the perfect moment to pounce? I slowed down and scanned the faces below me, but I didn't see Trevor among the throngs of thrashing bodies on the dance floor, or in the trees around the edges, or even behind the bar with our employees. There were only two places left where he could be; his office or the Wild Room.

  I was just about to head downstairs when I felt the heat of a body behind me and caught a whiff of wolf musk on the air-conditioned breeze.

  “Trevor,” I whispered.

  A low, rumbling growl was my answer, but it wasn't a sound of warning; it was arousal. Blatant need. I closed my eyes, breathed in the pheromones rolling off him, and shivered. I could feel him getting closer. Four inches away. Two. Trevor leaned into me—his hands going to the railing on either side of me—and pressed his body against mine. His face settled into the curve of my neck, and he inhaled slowly. Deeply. I was pushed forward as Trevor's chest expanded into my back and his erection ground into my ass. I leaned back and lifted my face to look at him.

  Trevor's eyes were glowing; bathing his face in golden light and making the hollows and dips seem more sinister. I wasn't too surprised by their appearance, but the ancient creature who peered out of them startled me. Had I said that I knew Trevor's wolf? I didn't know shit. This beast was primitive. Primal. Fucking potent. He was a step away from the giant wolves who'd once roamed the cold lands of the North. A step backward. I could see flickers of emotions in those eyes, but they were all basic; hunger, thirst, lust, and power. No, not power; domination. The beast was finally king, and he wasn't about to give up his crown.

  “I knew you'd come,” the Wolf said. “I felt it here.” He lifted my hand and rubbed it over his sternum. “You want him back.”

  “You are him,” I said as I turned around fully. “I want you back.”

  The Wolf instantly pressed forward; crouching his body to fit his sex to mine. That feral growl came again as his eyes closed in sensual delight. He bent his head and rubbed his stubbled cheek against my face. Dear Gods, the pure sex that rolled off him was intoxicating. My head swam with it; I swayed. His scent was more wolf than man; the musk thicker than usual. It was invading my senses along with the rest of him. I couldn't get a breath that wasn't full of him, and I didn't want to. I closed my eyes and nestled against his chest. The pound of his heartbeat became another seduction. The tempo quickening just for me. But then, suddenly, he pushed away from me and melted back into the shadows; leaving me reeling from the loss of those addicting sensations.

  Deeper and darker the Wolf went until I could barely see him; only his glowing eyes.

  “You betrayed us,” he whispered.

  I flinched. My heart plummeted and doubts rose to threaten my sanity again. But I was prepared for this. He'd thrown me off balance with his sensuality, but my resolve brought me quickly back to center. I shook off my doubts and stepped forward.

  “No; I was tricked, as you were,” I said firmly. “We were both attacked.”

  “I don't mean the demon-killer,” the Wolf rumbled. “I mean your other mates. You made promises that you broke. You hurt us.”

  “Trevor,” I whispered. “I love you. You know that. You can feel it through our bond; feel our love. Remember it. I would never hurt you. What promises did I break?”

  The Wolf leapt forward furiously, grabbed my hand, and yanked me back into the darkness with him. But as soon as I stood within the shadows, he let go as if I'd burned him. I stumbled but caught myself. With a lithe, lupine stride, the Wolf prowled around me; peering at me as if trying to sense every nuance of my soul. I stood still and let him look; hoping he was looking with more than his eyes.

  “What is it that you want, Mate?” The Wolf asked finally. “Why are you here?”

  “Why am I here?” I asked in shock. “You know why I'm here; you said it yourself. I want you back.”

  “No; I said that you want him back,” he corrected me. “And you do, don't you? You want me to slink back into my cage and give you the weaker part of me.” He gripped my hair and pulled hard; wrenching my head back so he could snarl in my ear, “I will not let you unman us.”

  “Trevor's not weak or unmanned. That's rich; coming from a wolf,” I snapped. “And you have never been in a cage. Don't think that I haven't noticed you there; lurking beneath the surface. Watching me through him. Just as he watches me now through you.”

  I yanked free of the Wolf, spun about, and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. As his eyes widened infinitesimally in surprise, I pushed him down on a nearby hill and straddled his lap. He was straining at me through his pants, and I rubbed myself against him, as he had done to me.

  “I accepted you with him.” I lowered my face to his. “Or have you forgotten the Binding?”

  “I haven't forgotten,” his voice dropped to a purr. “But you made him weak even then. He came in his pants like a boy, instead of taking you as a man. As a wolf!”

  The Wolf rolled so that he was on top. He held me pressed to the hill with his body but didn't move to restrain me in any other way. His eyes roamed my face and then moved downward.

  “Little girl, you have no idea who you've been spreading your legs for; who really holds you and fills you and makes you scream,” he said in the most sensual, deep, and somehow melodious voice. “You think you have me tamed, but I've merely been waiting; watching for your weakness. Waiting for you to stumble. To break away from the herd. I'm the most patient of hunters, and you”—he bent his head and nipped my pulse—“have finally fallen to my teeth.”

  “I fell a long time ago,” I said as I laid my hand to his head and pulled him harder against me. “You want to bite me? Taste my blood? Do it, Wolf. I've bled for you before. If that's what you need, I'll bleed again.”

  I angled my head to the side and bared my neck to him. Submission doesn't sit well with me, but I'd been learning lately that it had its own kind of power. This was about giving, not taking, and I would say how much of me he could have.

  The Wolf went still above me, and I turned back to face him.

  “My throat is bared; I'm offering it to you,” I said softly. “Why do you hesitate?”

  “I don't want you like that,” he growled. “When I slide my teeth into your throat, I'll also be sliding my cock into your sex.”

  “What's the difference?” I asked softly.

  “The difference is between mate and meat.” He pushed away from me. Loomed over me. “I draw your blood to prove its mine; I don't drink it to sustain me.”

  “Why did you come here; to Moonshine?” I asked him. “Is this where you feel strongest?”

  “It's mine,” the Wolf said simply as he stood. “As you are. Or you will be.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked angrily. “I've already told you that I'm yours. Here I am. What more do you want?”

  “You're not mine!” The Wolf snarled; his body tight with fury. “Your theirs. The lion, the gods, the faerie. You can never truly be mine while you give yourself to others.
”

  “I see,” I whispered as I stood. “And you want me to deny them all before you release Trevor?”

  The Wolf laughed cruelly. “You think that I'm suppressing him? He gave me control. He wants me to do what he could not; take back our mate.”

  The Wolf grabbed me so suddenly that I wasn't prepared for it. He tore my rings from my fingers—both my wedding ring and my Ring of Remembrance—and dropped them on the grass. Then he tossed me over his shoulder, sped down to the basement, and traced us away.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “You didn't have to do that,” I said calmly. “I would have gone with you willingly.”

  “Would you have left your rings behind?” His voice tickled my ear, his body pressed tight to mine, and his arms were like a vise around me. “Would you have come with me behind my father's wards and agreed to cut yourself off from all of them?”

  I shivered. “What do you mean; your father's wards? Fenrir is helping you?”

  “Of course, he's helping me. He even opened a tracing port here for us.” The Wolf laughed. “He's the source of my magic; he understands that I need my mate.”

  “You have me,” I hissed with frustration.

  “No; I don't.” He released me suddenly and stepped back.

  We were in a cabin, but it was luxurious. The Wolf had carried me out of a tracing chamber like a caveman and set me on my feet in the main room; an open space that surged up two stories. A picture window took up the wall on our left. It was so large that it had to be divided into three separate panes; the largest square at the bottom with two triangular ones on top to form a peak. The view from that window was magnificent; a mirrored lake with a backdrop of sharp-edged mountains behind it. There were a million stars reflected on that glassy surface and a full moon among them.

  Before us, there was a cold fireplace made from slabs of slate and crowned with a polished, wood mantle. A pile of wood waited there to be lit. Around the hearth gathered heavy, wooden furniture with overstuffed cushions, set over thick Persian rugs. A kitchen full of modern appliances was to the left of that—across from the window—with polished wood cabinets, baskets and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and a butcher block island. It had large windows that somehow managed to have a partial view of the lake.