Tall, Dark, and Deadly: Seven Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance

by Laura Kaye

  “Lovely, isn’t it?”

  It was. Mesmerizing, in fact. She took several steps toward it before Mammon snatched it up. “Not so fast, my dear.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to tell me how to work the resurrection spell. I thought I made that clear during our dreamscaping.”

  “Dreamscaping?”

  “The term I use for our telepathic communication. It is one of my best discoveries, and one I have kept secret from those fools at the Council.”

  Brynn shook her head. “I won’t do it.”

  Mammon’s amusement disappeared. The evil glint in his eye made her gulp and take a step back. “Oh, but you will. Or the demon you love will die.”

  “You swore you wouldn’t harm him.” Fear weakened her knees. Had Mammon not kept his word?

  “I swore I would let him leave unharmed. But I didn’t swear that I wouldn’t have my men hunt him down once he’d gone or that I wouldn’t kill him if he came back.”

  Anxiety and fury gnawed at her stomach. “You can’t do that.”

  “Oh, but I can.” Mammon laughed as he looked at the book and stroked it, his eyes glazing over for a moment. He refocused on her. “I can have them hurt you, too, darling. That’s the problem with blood oaths. You are only bound to your literal words.”

  Brynn swallowed back her curses. “If you want me to perform the spell, you’ll have to give me the book.”

  “I don’t think so. I will open it for you, and you can read the spell.”

  “What makes you think I’ll even be able to read it? It isn’t written in English, is it?”

  “You are the heir. It is meant for you to read.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged. “Or I might have to examine it closely to figure out how to use it.”

  Mammon frowned at the book, but he must have decided she had a point because he approached her. Brynn resisted the urge to back away, clenching her fists tightly. Every instinct in her body told her to flee, which was difficult to ignore.

  He stopped in front of her and held up the book. There were only two thick metal plates, held together by gold hinges and a clasp. “What do you see?”

  Brynn stared at it for a moment. “Nothing. Maybe if you open it?”

  “Damnation.” He turned it back toward him and clumsily worked the clasp, opening it before he flipped it back to face her.

  Brynn examined the hieroglyphs engraved on the metal, trying to get a reading off them. But it was just a bunch of pictures she couldn’t read. “Sorry. It’s all Greek to me.”

  A low snarl rose from his chest. “If you are lying to me, I swear—”

  “I’m not.”

  He lowered the book with a muttered curse. Brynn took an involuntary step back at the rage in his eyes. For a moment, she feared he would strike her. But instead, he whirled to pace about the tent, grumbling things she couldn’t understand. At last, he turned to face her again, training his features into a calm mask.

  “Hold it. Tell me what happens then.” He held it out to her but kept a tight grasp on it.

  She gasped as the cool metal made contact with her fingers. Its immediate pull urged her to use her senses to read its memories. She didn’t dare think about resisting. She had to know…she had to.

  Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the book. She saw a man—Iyri—chanting in a language that was foreign yet familiar, while he etched the images into the metal. He uttered a spell of protection, making it indestructible. A gorgeous woman stood by his side, her belly softly rounded with child. He felt equal measures of love and despair for her. He must protect her at all costs. Not only her but his child. His bloodline.

  “Use this gift, children of my loins. Ultimate protection. If needs be, ultimate power. Call it forth as you will, and use it wisely.”

  Iyri performed the spell, and the bodies of the resurrected rose from the earth around him. But he was caught before he could finish it; a dagger plunged into his heart. The bodies fell to the ground and crumbled to dust.

  The memories stopped abruptly, flinging Brynn back to the present. She choked on her breath, phantom pain shooting in her chest at the spot where the dagger had struck Iyri.

  Mammon’s hands trembled. “What? What is it?”

  So that was it.

  It appeared Iyri had kept a little secret all of his own, something no one could determine by simply reading the incantations. No, only someone who read memories would know what the spell did.

  Wouldn’t Mammon be surprised when he learned the truth?

  Steeling her gaze, Brynn glanced up at Mammon. “I can read the words now.”

  He breathed, an unholy light glimmering in his eyes. “Go on. Do it.”

  Fighting back the shadow of a smile that threatened to creep onto her face, she started to chant.

  “From the bowels of earth I call to thee, to protect and shadow over me. Until the need for guard is waived, and you are called back to your grave.”

  She recognized the meaning behind the words even though they weren’t in any language she’d ever heard before. Immediately, the earth around her rumbled but she continued on, ignoring it.

  Mammon tore his gaze away from the book, his attention drawn outside to the rumbling of what felt like a mini-earthquake. “Is it done?”

  Oh, it was done. “Yes.”

  His lips curled back to reveal his teeth, and he yanked the book out of her hands, striding toward the exit. Curious, Brynn followed. She stepped outside the tent and gasped.

  Knowing what was about to happen was very different from actually seeing it.

  Bodies, no more than skeletons, dug themselves out of the earth. The ground not more than ten feet in front of them crumbled upward as dozens of mummified corpses rose from it. The scene was beyond terrifying, like the worst horror movie come to life.

  “Oh, sweet heavens.” Covering her mouth, Brynn inched backward.

  Mammon’s minions screamed and scattered at the sight of the zombies. One unlucky demon didn’t move fast enough and was torn apart, the zombies feasting on his limbs. As they ate, flesh modeled itself over bare bones.

  Beside her, Mammon watched in fascination, the book held tightly in his grasp. “Is it like this all over your world?”

  “No, just in the vicinity of where the book is.”

  His lips curled into a grin. “And they all answer to me.”

  Well…

  Several pig-like demons ran toward them, shadowed by a small group of zombies. Brynn instinctively jumped backward and moved to hide behind Mammon. He grabbed one of the demons by the neck.

  “Kill her,” he ordered, propelling the demon toward her.

  He moved to obey, drawing a dagger out of its sheath. But that was as far as he got before three zombies leapt on him.

  “Oh, shit!” Brynn screamed. She edged away, unable to avert her eyes as the zombies devoured the demon less than five feet away from her. Lord, they stank like ten-day-old road kill.

  “What?” Mammon stared at the zombies in confusion. His attention darted back to Brynn and, pointing to her, he said, “Kill the girl.”

  They stopped eating momentarily, turning their gazes toward him while their bodies continued to regenerate. Then, as one, they returned to their demonic feast.

  Mammon lobbed an accusing glare at Brynn. “What is this?”

  “Oh, forgot to tell you. The book doesn’t actually control the army,” Brynn said, gracing him with an airy smile. “The heir does.”

  Mammon glared at her for a long moment, rage building behind his evil eyes. “What?”

  “The army is meant to protect the priest’s bloodline.”

  “No.” He gripped the book so tightly his knuckles turned white. “No, how dare you lie to me?”

  “I can’t help that what you believed was wrong.”

  His chest heaved as he absorbed her words. Then, he moved in front of her and grabbed her neck, choking off her circulation.

 
The zombies lurched toward them. But Mammon must have heard them, because he shifted around to her back, keeping his hand on her neck, and used her as a shield. She screamed as the zombies got within inches of her, close enough that their stench burned her nostrils and their gore dripped onto her clothes. Recognizing the danger to her, they stopped.

  “Stay back,” Mammon ordered them, desperation thick in his voice.

  They obeyed, edging anxiously, as if searching for his weak spot.

  “Tell them to back away,” he whispered in her ear.

  She opened her mouth to respond…when the sky burst into flames.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  An involuntary screech tore from Brynn’s throat as streams of fiery red sprayed the air, creating thick plumes of smoke. A winged figure flew toward the camp.

  Keegan.

  With Taeg on his back.

  Fire blanketed one corner of the camp, setting demons and zombies ablaze. But then, just like that, Keegan appeared to run out of fuel. The fire dissipated, though the carnage remained.

  Through the thick smoke, Brynn barely made out the figures of Keegan and Taeg dropping to the ground. They pulled swords from their backs and fought her new army. They attacked, and the zombies mindlessly lurched forward to defend themselves.

  She opened her mouth to scream at Keegan, but before she could say a word Mammon dropped the book and clapped his free hand over her mouth.

  “Isn’t that funny? Turns out they’re fighting their own side.”

  Brynn kicked her heel against Mammon’s shin and tried to elbow him in the stomach. He muffled a curse and dodged her elbow, using the zombies’ preoccupation with Keegan and his brothers to his advantage as he edged her backward into the tent. Once inside, he twirled her around and shoved her into the great room. She landed in a crumbled heap on the ground.

  Mammon loomed over her, cruelty slashing across his face. “Are you going to cooperate now, my dear?”

  She rose to her feet and circled the inside of the tent, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t command the army. Give it up.”

  Mammon scoffed at that. “I haven’t lost. I merely have to reevaluate. I may not be able to command the army, but you can. And I control you.”

  Control her? He wished.

  “Fuck you,” she snarled. She made a run for the exit, but he caught her by the arm and his fist clipped her on the chin, dropping her to the ground. Agony erupted at the point of impact. The pain that spread across her face was so intense she feared her jaw might be broken.

  “Fuck,” he screamed, grabbing his face. A purple bruise had formed there.

  Disoriented, Brynn peered up at him, noticing a thin row of bruises darkening on his neck. What on Earth? “The blood oath.”

  “Yes.” He gripped her arm and dragged her toward his bedroom. “I’ve sworn not to harm you, so whatever harm I do to you will come back to me threefold.”

  “Let go.” She tried to get to her feet, but Mammon hoisted her over his shoulder, not stopping until he reached the side of his bed and dumped her.

  Hell no.

  Brynn’s fist flew out and connected with the side of Mammon’s face, in the same spot as his new bruise. He flinched and drew away. She used that moment to reach inside her sweater and slide the dagger from its sheath. Then she lunged at him, swinging it toward his neck in a long arc.

  The blade came within an inch of slicing him, but Mammon moved aside at the last second. Instead of cutting his neck, it grazed the top of his shoulder, leaving a shallow cut.

  “Bitch. You’ll pay for that.” He snatched her wrist and squeezed.

  She held the dagger for as long as she could, but intense pain spiderwebbed through her wrist, eliciting a ragged scream from her. The bastard had broken her wrist. The dagger fell to the ground with a dull clang.

  Still holding her firmly in his grip, Mammon punched her, hitting her square on the jaw. Stars erupted in her vision. She must have blacked out, because when she came to, he straddled her and was fitting her wrists into a pair of manacles chained to the top of the metal-framed bed.

  Her jaw and wrist were on fire, and the unpleasant tang of blood coated her throat.

  “A warning,” he said, his voice smooth and full of control. “I don’t mind pain the way you so obviously do, and I heal a damn sight faster. So anything short of killing you is fair game.”

  Panic and desperation overwhelmed her.

  “No. No, please.” She stifled a scream as he jarred her injured wrist. It hurt so freaking badly.

  “Hush.” Mammon sat back, smiling down at her. “Don’t like to be tied up, do you? I’ll have to remember that. For later.”

  His words elicited deep-seeded horror. Although she tried, she couldn’t hide it. All at once, she was that little girl again, whimpering in the trunk of the strange man’s car, wondering what he would do to her.

  No. She couldn’t relive that scene. She couldn’t be helpless again.

  She bucked upward. “Stop!”

  Ignoring her, Mammon tore a heavy strip off his sheet and gagged her with it. “Don’t want you spilling our little secret, do we?”

  He rose off the bed and walked to a small table in the corner. Lifting a large, heavy-looking sword, he turned back to her. Brynn struggled against her binds, biting on the gag to ease the pain of her shattered wrist.

  Mammon looked on with an evil smile. “Perhaps if you had behaved, things would have worked out differently. Your lover is still my son, after all. But now, I’m going to kill him.”

  Keegan must still be weak from blood loss, and on top of that he was fighting demons and zombies. He’d be no match for his father.

  No.

  “Don’t worry, dear.” Chuckling, Mammon walked back to her and patted her face. “I’m going to let you watch.”

  …

  Keegan fought as if his life depended on it. As if Brynn’s life depended on it. Because it probably did. He’d been too late to stop the army, but he could still save her life. Damn the Council. Damn Earth. All that mattered now was Brynn.

  A zombie lunged at him, snapping its teeth as if it were dying for a taste.

  He reared back, then swung his sword in a loose arc. It caught the zombie across the neck, slicing off its head. The head and body fell inches from each other, but even then, the headless body rose and crawled toward its skull, trying to reassemble itself. Keegan kicked the head and it flew across the field like a soccer ball.

  They wouldn’t die, these fuckers. No matter how many times he hacked at them, the damned things kept putting themselves back together. And if the gory demon bits strewn about the camp were any indication, the zombies were hungry.

  “You okay?” Taeg grunted beside him as he hacked away at a small group of zombies. Nearby, Ronin and Dagan, who’d flown in together, did the same.

  “Yeah,” Keegan replied. Still weak as hell, his arm ached so badly he wanted to cry, but at least he was alive. All that mattered now was getting to Brynn.

  “At least we don’t have to worry about the demons anymore,” Dagan called beside him.

  That was true. The few demons who hadn’t hightailed it out of there were either currently fighting off zombies or being snacked on by them.

  “Do you see Brynn anywhere?” Ronin yelled.

  “No.” Not that he could see much. The zombies appeared in waves, and residual plumes of smoke clouded his vision.

  “Let’s try to flank him so he can fly out of here,” Taeg shouted.

  Damn. He didn’t want to leave them but he had to find Brynn. Devil only knew what Mammon was doing to her.

  After much slicing and hacking, his brothers managed to get him enough room to safely fly out. “I’ll be back.”

  “Just go get her,” Taeg yelled as a zombie took a chunk of flesh out of his arm. He viciously hacked it in half. “Take that, you piece of shit.”

  Keegan sure as hell didn’t want to leave his brothers in this position. But he took flight nonetheles
s. Brynn was here somewhere. He dropped in front of Mammon’s tent, betting this would be the first place he’d take her. As he stepped inside, Mammon’s gritty laugh drifted from the rear of the tent.

  Mammon, you fuck.

  He ran to the back…and stopped, his blood turning to ice.

  Mammon stood in front of Brynn, a sword in his hand. He’d chained her to the bed and gagged her, and she watched him with utter terror.

  “No,” Keegan roared.

  Mammon whirled, and Keegan focused all of his rage on his father. The bastard had tied her up. Made her afraid.

  He was going to die.

  “Keegan,” Mammon said. “I’ve been waiting for you, son. Here I was, telling your delicious little morsel that it wouldn’t be long until you came.” He looked back at Brynn and deliberately licked his lips. “And I’ll admit, she is delightful. Imagine all the fun we’ll have once you’re dead.”

  Keegan charged him, sword swinging. Mammon jumped back and lifted his weapon in time to block the swing. Their swords connected with a loud clang and vibrations rattled Keegan’s arm, sending a jolt of agony spiraling upward.

  “Why bother?” Mammon laughed. “You know you can’t win.”

  Brynn struggled against her binds and mumbled something he couldn’t hear. Keegan ignored her, circling Mammon, who jabbed his sword toward Keegan’s throat. He blocked the thrust, staggering backward as Mammon advanced. Hitting the end table, Keegan kicked his foot up to shove Mammon away.

  Mammon stumbled but caught himself before he hit the ground. Keegan rushed him, but his father swung his sword the opposite direction than he’d expected. He sidestepped it, but not quickly enough. A gash opened on his cheek, and it immediately and painfully healed.

  “Ha.” Mammon chuckled. “How does it feel to always be second best to your father?”

  “You’re nothing compared to me,” Keegan growled. Again he attacked, but Mammon parried his thrust.

  “So say you. You are merely a cheap imitation of my greatness.” He bared his teeth. “I daresay your little heir will even think me a better lover.”

  Keegan tried his best to ignore his father’s attempts to goad him into recklessness. Problem was, it was working. He advanced, swinging his sword in a high arc. Staggering back, Mammon blocked it. Keegan used the opportunity to move closer. He lifted his other fist and punched him, connecting solidly with his jaw.