Demons and Lovers

by Cheyenne McCray

  Six council members turned their heads to look at us.

  I sucked in my breath. Now would have been a really good time to have employed a little stealth. Of course that was no thanks to the Dryad who had opened the doors to the chambers without giving us a chance to assess the situation. Dryads have no tact and no sense of battle strategy.

  From the corner of my eye I saw that Angel wasn’t there any longer. It was no surprise to see a blond squirrel’s bushy tail disappearing beneath the council’s draped semi-circular table.

  The strong odor of alyssum emanated from the room, which could only mean Metamorphs. How could the Dryads have missed it, even though they weren’t known for their keen scent of smell? Chief Counsel Leticia—the real Chief, not a Metamorph—must have the worst sense of smell in all the Otherworlds. Or maybe she had sinus trouble. Who knew?

  Light flickered from wall sconces throughout the room. The torchlight cast shadows across the dim room, giving an almost eerie feel to the place. It smelled faintly of smoke and crushed rose petals along with the newly mown hay smell.

  I gripped Angel’s dagger, and with a quick scan I saw two guards at the back of the room, and I also noted that the Metamorphs had done well in replacing five of the six council members. If I hadn’t known they were replacements, and couldn’t smell them, I wouldn’t have known the difference.

  Chief Counsel Leticia looked both perplexed and upset at first glance, as if something wasn’t going right.

  Leticia, a Doppelganger, perched on a throne at the center of the crescent-shaped table and she also represented all others of her race; the Drow and Light Elves had one delegate who served on the council for both of our races; a Siren had been voted in by the Fae to represent all fifteen-plus races of Fae; a Shifter was in attendance for all Shifters; a Werewolf was the envoy for all Weres; and a Vampire represented his kind.

  In the mere moment it took me to process all of this, I saw that at the side of the council table, in a chair near a witness stand, was a black-haired Witch dressed in a white sparkling beaded dress. The sophisticated-looking Witch had a pensive, almost confused expression. No doubt she was the real deal and had been appointed to represent all Witches in their appeal to be on the council…and this council meeting was not going according to normal standards.

  And on the witness stand—

  Smith.

  The head Metamorph flashed me a look of complete shock, blood draining from his face. So this was how the Metamorphs were planning to get Smith on the council. He represented his entire race to gain admittance while Metamorphs, with the exception of Leticia, had replaced all of the council members. He couldn’t lose.

  But I was going to shut him down.

  My rapid appraisal ended with my gaze meeting Chief Council Leticia’s.

  “Tracker.” Leticia frowned from her center perch. “Leave at once. This session is not public.”

  “These aren’t the real council members.” My voice rang through the hall as I spoke. “They’re all Metamorphs. They’ve kidnapped or killed the real members.”

  A prickle raced up my spine. I caught a flash of silver in the corner of my eye. I ducked into a crouch. A Dryad screamed from inside a wooden pillar as a dagger buried itself into her midsection. Damn. I had moved instinctively and hadn’t realized a Dryad was behind me.

  I turned to see two guards coming at me from the great hall. A low growl rolled from inside me along with my fury. The dangerous white light flashed in my eyes as the poor young Dryad sobbed and sap bled from her belly. I would kill the guards just for what they’d done to the Dryad.

  One of the guards had a bow, a gold-feathered shaft nocked in it. The arrowhead glinted in the light cast from the chambers as the guard let it loose. I reached up and caught the arrow then flung it back at the guard, my air element pushing it even faster than my own power.

  I pierced the guard through the heart all the way up to the golden feathers.

  “What in the name of—” Leticia shouted from her seat.

  Angel transformed from her squirrel form and appeared behind the Chief Council member. She yanked Leticia out of her seat and pushed her under the table. “Stay down!” Angel shouted at the Doppelganger. “These Metamorphs will kill you.”

  I was aware of everything, but it all happened so fast it was a blur.

  The guard who had thrown the dagger came charging forward, brandishing a sword. Through the stone hall floor I ordered my earth element to rock the place. A crack in the stone tripped the guard. With another command my air element twisted both the guard and the blade so that the guard landed on his own sword and severed his neck to his spine.

  Angel battled three of the five Metamorph imposters. Her side-kick sent one sprawling across the room. She grabbed the arm of a female Metamorph and flipped her onto her back. The third, Angel grabbed by the head and snapped his neck.

  At the same time I fought off the two guards and the other two fake council members who came at me from inside the chamber.

  One guard had a gun and I flattened myself to the floor. As he fired and missed, I rolled toward the other guard, tripped him and gutted him with Angel’s dagger.

  A Metamorph jumped on me but I flipped onto my back, grabbed him by the head, and rammed my knee into his face. He screamed and blood and tears flushed down his face as I broke his nose and his jaw.

  The fourth Metamorph had a gun, too, and he and the first guard began shooting at me.

  I wrapped myself in a cocoon of my air element and called to fire.

  Torch flames from inside the council chambers roared into fiery life. A dragon of fire swooped down and swallowed the guard and the Metamorph, burning them to ash as it carried them down the great hallway.

  Another guard came out of nowhere.

  Before I had a chance to do anything, a burst of green light came from the Witch. Plant tentacles wrapped themselves around the guard, taking away his ability to move.

  A green Witch. I glanced up at her intense face. Witches never killed, but they would fight to protect themselves or others using whatever power they commanded. Hers obviously came from nature.

  All thoughts and actions happened within moments.

  Seven down. I glanced in Angel’s direction. The three she’d been battling were down plus another.

  That left Smith.

  I cut my gaze to the witness stand.

  Smith was gone.

  Warning chills scrabbled up and down my body.

  Too late.

  Fiery lead pierced my abdomen and then my thigh before I could react. Pain seared me like my fire element had seared the two men. Blood flowed from my abdomen and down my leg from the bullet wounds.

  Smith had slipped out of the melee and around to my side.

  I gritted my teeth and forward flipped twice toward Smith.

  Shock was on Smith’s face as I knocked the gun from his hand, grabbed his head, and slammed my forehead against his.

  “Stop. Please.” His begging only made me angrier. “We’ll go away. You’ll never see us again.”

  I jerked his head down with my fists full of his hair. I rammed my knee up and into his face just before I snapped his neck.

  For a moment, silence filled the chamber and the hall. Dead bodies. Blood everywhere. Cracked floor. Destroyed furniture. Burnt clothes and bones. Stench of charred flesh. Odor of rotting, molding hay.

  It was over.

  As my gaze met Angel’s, I started to feel dizzy. I looked down and saw that blood was flowing freely from my abdomen.

  Two Dryads left their columns and caught me from behind as I slumped.

  Then passed out.

  Chapter 5

  “What happened to you?” Olivia eyed me up and down as I shoved open the door to our PI office, Fae bells jingling as the door slid shut. “Get sucked in through a jet engine this morning?”

  “Feel like it.” I’d taken a shower, dressed in fresh clothing, but I did feel like I’d at least gotten caught in a h
elicopter's rotors.

  I grinned when I saw Olivia’s T-shirt.

  Where are we going and why are we in this handbasket?

  The real Olivia.

  I wanted to hug her but I knew she’d get even by shooting me with one of her eraser-loaded rubber bands.

  Last night I’d made sure Olivia was okay by having a couple of other Trackers check in on her. After being shot, I couldn’t do anything until I shifted back into my human form. To say I was relieved when I was told she was all right—well, we’ll just keep it to “that’s an understatement.”

  “So tell me why you look like you got chewed up and spit out in little pieces,” Olivia said.

  “I’m fine. Just a rough night tracking.” I smiled my way through my aches and pains. It’s much easier to heal when shifting from human to Drow than it is shifting from Drow to human. I’d mostly healed from my wounds, but not totally—that wouldn’t happen until tonight when I became Drow again. What was more important than my being injured was that Olivia was here and well. “I am so glad you’re okay.”

  Olivia gave me one of her looks. “And why wouldn’t I be?”

  That made me feel even better. If she didn’t know, then nothing had happened to her at all. “Nothing.”

  Olivia frowned.

  I set my handbag on my Dryad-made wooden desk and a pang went through me at the thought of the young Dryad who’d been stabbed last night. The Healers weren’t sure she was going to survive.

  “What happened?” Olivia narrowed her gaze. When I shrugged she grabbed an eraser from the stash on her desk and loaded it into a rubber band. “Tell me now.”

  I held up my hands in mock-surrender. “Metamorphs. They went a little crazy last night.”

  “Metamorphs?” Olivia looked like she was going to laugh. “Since when did one of them grow a backbone?”

  “They chose last night to do it.” I drew my cell phone out of my handbag. “I need to call Rodán.”

  As I looked at my phone, an eraser pinged off my forehead. I looked up at Olivia. “Hey. What was that for?”

  “Stop stalling.” Olivia pulled on her reloaded rubber band. “And start talking.”

  “All right, all right.” I told her most of what had happened last night. No matter that she was one of the people I cared most about here or in Otherworld, I was sworn to secrecy about the Paranorm Center—humans were never to know about it.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Olivia asked when I finished massaging my story to the part about getting shot. She put her hand on her own handgun. “I don’t like it when you leave me out of things and you know it.”

  “It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to call you,” I said, looking at Olivia. “That’s the truth.” More or less.

  “What happened to the real council members?” she asked.

  “Two other Trackers—Ice and Joshua—located them,” I said. “They wiped out the Metamorphs who’d kidnapped the council members, and saved the hostages.”

  “Well now that you’ve had your fun, it’s time to get to work.” Olivia was good at playing things down even when she was truly worried. She set her rubber band and eraser on her desk and I watched her shove another file on top of the ones teetering on her desk. “We got a call first thing. Something about a Succubus. I stuck a note on your desk.”

  “Succubus…” I headed toward my desk that was covered in pink sticky notes. “Now this ought to be interesting.”

  Also by Cheyenne McCray

  “Riding Tall” Series

  Branded For You

  Roping Your Heart

  Fencing You In

  Tying You Down

  Playing With You

  Crazy For You

  Hot For You

  Made For You

  Held By You

  Belong To You

  “Rough and Ready” Series

  Silk and Spurs

  Lace and Lassos

  Champagne and Chaps

  Satin and Saddles

  Roses and Rodeo

  Lingerie and Lariats

  Lipstick and Leather

  “Altered States” Series

  Dark Seduction

  “Dark Enforcers” Series

  Night’s Captive

  Lexi Steele Novels

  The First Sin

  The Second Betrayal

  The Temptation

  ~Romantic Erotica~

  “Seraphine Chronicles” Series

  Forbidden

  Bewitched

  Spellbound

  (Spellbound includes bonus novella, Untamed)

  Possessed

  From St. Martin’s Press:

  “Night Tracker” Series

  Demons Not Included

  No Werewolves Allowed

  Vampires Not Invited

  Zombies Sold Separately

  Vampires Dead Ahead

  No Cursed Allowed—novella (in the Demons & Lovers collection)

  “Magic” Series

  Forbidden Magic

  Seduced by Magic

  Wicked Magic

  Shadow Magic

  Dark Magic

  Single Title

  Moving Target

  Chosen Prey

  Anthologies and Collections

  Demons and Lovers

  No Rest for the Witches

  Real Men Last All Night

  Legally Hot

  Cheyenne writing as Jaymie Holland

  “Tattoos and Leather” ménage

  Inked

  “Hearts in Chains” BDSM Series

  Wounded

  “The Auction” Series

  Sold

  Bought

  Claimed (with bonus novella Taken)

  “Taboo” Series

  Wicked Nights: three Lusty Tales

  Taboo Desires: three Tales of Lust and Passion

  Playing Rough: three Stories of Sensual Submission

  Paranormal Single Title

  The Touch

  Come to Me

  Excerpt… Forbidden

  “Seraphine Chronicles” series

  by Cheyenne McCray

  Candlelight flickered across Liana’s skin as the last of her clothing pooled at her feet. The scent of jensai blooms floated through the open window on an evening breeze, the balmy air easing over her body like a lover’s caress.

  Liana stood in the center of her bedchamber and closed her eyes, a vision of the dark stranger filling her senses. As she tilted her head back, her hair brushed her bare buttocks like a whisper of moonlight.

  Like she imagined the man’s touch would be upon her skin.

  Even as she moved her hands to her naked breasts, she was aware of the nordai’s passionate night calls outside her cottage. But the raven’s cries faded as the stranger’s image burned in Liana’s thoughts.

  Black eyes that had followed her as she had made her way through the tavern. Sensuality simmering beneath the surface of his stare. Ebony hair brushing his broad shoulders. A scruffy hint of a beard along his arrogant jaw. Muscles that flexed with every movement as he towered over her.

  Visualizing the stranger’s callused hands upon her body, Liana caressed her taut nipples with her palms. She could almost smell the man’s woodsy scent, a hint of which she had caught when she had brushed past him in the tavern. She had shivered from the slight contact, but kept her gaze averted, every nerve ending ablaze with wanting him.

  How could she desire a man she had never seen before today?

  How could she desire any man when it was forbidden?

  A moan eased through Liana’s lips as the vision of the stranger’s touch grew stronger. She imagined his tanned fingers covering her pale breast, his callused palm chaffing her sensitive nipples. She could feel the black hair on his powerful arms brushing her skin. Her body ached with desire, ached with need. A need she did not understand how to fill.

  There was only one being with whom she was supposed to mate—but no. She would not allow that reali
ty to spoil the erotic fantasy weaving through her mind.

  She had never mated with a man, for it was forbidden. She had heard lusty tales told by her heart-sister Tierra and the tavern wenches, but Liana had never had such an intense desire to experience such a joining—

  Until him.

  Her belly quivered as she eased one hand down her flat stomach to the tangle of curls between her thighs. Where it was forbidden to touch herself. The place that now ached to be stroked, as though that might ease her wanting of the stranger.

  Liana’s tresses moved as an extension of her thoughts, sliding over her naked skin like she imagined the stranger might touch her body. His hands would be slow. Gentle. His mouth would feel hot on her lips, her breasts, her belly, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched.

  Burning.

  Slipping her fingers between her folds, Liana gasped as she felt the dampness of her desire for the dark stranger. Her other hand continued to knead her nipples as she imagined the man fondling them. Her hair caressed her shoulders down to her hips, and the motion of her fingers grew stronger, more insistent, as she stroked her clit.

  But instead of relieving her need for the man, the knot in her belly grew tighter and tighter yet.

  She could almost feel the stranger’s stubble, rough against her inner thighs. And his tongue—gods, his tongue—laving at her clit that was building with pressure. Building and building and—

  A cry of surprise rose in Liana’s throat and her eyes flew open as the most exquisite sensations rocked through her. Like a flock of startled blackbirds bursting from their roosts amongst the sacred vines. Like moonlight sparkling across the rainbow sands of Mairi.

  Her fingers continued, drawing out the intense feelings until her body could take no more.

  Liana dropped to her knees and braced her palms against the rush-covered floor, her hair swinging forward to cover her face. Her breasts swayed and her thighs trembled. Her breath came in short gasps as she struggled to overcome the dizziness that threatened to render her boneless.