Dark Desire: Dark Series 2

by Lauren Dawes

  She spun around when someone grabbed her hand. It was Mist, shoving a fistful of money into her palm. Taer gave her a quizzical look.

  “Your share of the tips from tonight. You did well, Taer.” Mist turned back to wipe the bar down. By the time everyone had filed out, and the bar was clean, the lights had been turned on, chasing away the shadows.

  “Tay?” Korvain asked behind her. Taer looked up to find him standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the upper levels of the club. “What are you doing behind the bar?”

  “Mist asked me to fill in when Elli cut her forearm on a glass bottle,” she said, shoving the cash into the pocket of her sweats.

  Korvain leaned up against the side of the doorway, his dark eyes assessing her. “How are you feeling?”

  Translation: Aren’t you tired?

  Taer shrugged. “I’m surviving.”

  Korvain frowned, but said, “Come on. I want to teach you something.”

  “Tonight? Now?”

  He arched a dark brow at her. “Weren’t you the one complaining that I wasn’t teaching you fast enough?”

  “We’re going to do weapons training right now?”

  It was true that this was exactly what Taer wanted, but why the change of heart?

  Korvain shook his head. “No. I’m going to start your mental training tonight.” Before she could baulk at his offer, he said, “Not negotiable. Come on.”

  Taer looked at Mist, who only shrugged at her. She followed Korvain’s broad back to the elevators up to the apartments. Taer could still feel the tension between them, their earlier argument still stifling the air between them.

  She cleared her throat and leaned against the side of the elevator car, facing Korvain. He looked relaxed, but looks could be deceptive.

  “Is Bryn still worried about Darrion coming after the other Valkyries?” she asked to break the stiffness between them. “Is that why you’re taking Eir to and from work?”

  He turned to her. “It’s not Bryn who’s worried. It’s me. I don’t trust that he’s just gone into hiding. He has to be planning something. He has to be coming for me, or you …” He paused. “Or the woman I love,” he tacked on quietly.

  Taer stared at him, dumbstruck, and Korvain averted his eyes—looking at the sealed door of the car.

  “You love her?” she asked just as quietly.

  Korvain’s jaw flexed, and he refused to look her way. He was shutting down, unwilling to share any more with her. A little over a month ago, she would have seen his love for Bryn as a weakness and made some smart-ass comment, but since losing Adrian, her perspective had changed. Loving someone wasn’t a weakness. It took strength to trust someone else with your heart, but it took more strength to know that maybe they might be taken away from you sometime soon.

  “I’m happy for you, Korvain,” she said without looking at him, joining him in staring at the doors as the car glided to a stop. She let him lead the way out and followed him into the apartment.

  “Get showered. I need you relaxed for what we’re going to do.”

  Taer didn’t fight him on it. After training all day and then having drinks spilled on her all night, she was in desperate need of a shower. Once she’d toweled off, she tied her hair into a high bun at the top of her head and padded into the living room, where Korvain was waiting.

  “Lie down on the couch,” he said from the armchair across the room. Taer did as he instructed, propping her head and shoulders up with a few cushions.

  “Now, close your eyes.” He waited until she had before speaking again. “Over the next few nights, we’ll be focusing on some other skills that will help you defend yourself against non-physical attacks by Darrion.” Taer sat up and opened her mouth to argue, but Korvain simply spoke right over her. “And my decision to stop training you with weapons still stands. You’re not ready for that yet.”

  Lying back down and closing her eyes, Taer crossed her arms over her chest. “And you think this will protect me better than being able to wield a sword or a dagger or anything else pointed, dangerous and likely to perforate?”

  “Against Darrion? Yeah, I’d say so.”

  “So, what could possibly help me defend myself against him?”

  “Dream walking.”

  Taer had heard only the strongest and most pure-blooded Mares had that ability. “Are you sure?” she asked, cracking one eye open to look at him.

  “We won’t know until we try it. Now, close your eyes and relax your mind—just let it go blank.”

  Taer placed her interlaced hands on her stomach, let out a breath and did as Korvain had asked. She tried to make her mind blank, but instead her thoughts went to the many ways she could torture and kill Darrion. It was just too bad that he could only die once, really. That mother-fucker was going to suffer for killing Adrian.

  “Tay? I said relax,” Korvain said, his voice barely a whisper.

  “I am relaxed,” she spat back.

  “No, you’re not. Your knuckles are white. What are you thinking about?”

  Taer opened one eye and looked at her hands. Sure enough, they were both white, the bones straining against her skin. Forcing her fingers to relax, she flexed them a few times before trying again.

  “Better,” Korvain said. “Now, I want you to think of Eir.”

  “Eir?” she asked, her brows pulling into a confused frown.

  “Yeah. Think about the color of her eyes and hair, think about how she smells, the color of her skin. Think about it all. Are you doing that?”

  “Yes,” Taer replied, thinking hard about the Valkyrie lying in a bed on the opposite side of the wall, no more than fifteen feet away from her. She imagined herself looking deeply into the goddess’s royal blue and teal eyes.

  “Okay, good,” Korvain said, but his voice sounded distant now. “Look around. Can you see a door somewhere?”

  A door? Taer looked away from Eir’s blue-ringed eyes and took in the room she found herself standing in. The walls were a brilliant, pearlescent white. Completely pure. The floor was the same. She thought it was stone she was standing on, but it was warm and seemed to absorb her weight effortlessly.

  “Find the door, Taer,” Korvain urged, his voice sounding fainter this time. Taer took a few steps forward, the white walls giving way to more white walls. She looked behind her on instinct, jolting back in surprise. Just to the left of where she’d been standing was an old wooden door with iron studs protruding from it.

  “I see it,” she replied, not sure whether Korvain could still hear her. She felt like she was completely alone in this place.

  “Good. That’s good. Open it.”

  Taer’s hand stretched out to the small iron ring in the middle and twisted it. She was sure it would creak and groan, but it opened smoothly. On the other side, she couldn’t see anything but blackness.

  “It’s dark. I can’t see anything.”

  “That’s all right. Step into the room anyway. Trust me.”

  Taer swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped through the door. She expected to fall straight through the darkness, but was surprised when her foot hit spongy green grass instead. Slowly, like the rising of the morning sun, light filled the space. Taer blinked, looking around. She recognized where she was after a few seconds: Boston Common.

  Suddenly there was a dog bounding towards her … no, not towards her—towards Eir. Taer could see her now, sitting on a park bench directly in front of her. Her head was down, her face covered, and Taer could hear the gentle sounds of her sobbing.

  The dog’s pink tongue whipped out of its mouth and swiped across the back of Eir’s hands. Gasping, the Valkyrie sat back in surprise.

  “Hello,” she said, reaching out an unsteady hand. “What’s your name, handsome?”

  Taer watched closely as the dog licked Eir, causing the Valkyrie to laugh out loud. The dog took this as an invitation to keep going, this time landing lick after lick on her face.

  “Fuck, Sophie! No!” Taer heard
a voice and turned in time to see Mason come running up to the dog. Mason apologized, and when Eir laughed again, his whole expression softened. Taer had wondered before why Mason’s eyes always looked so haunted, but now—while standing with Eir—he looked so at ease … so happy.

  Did they know each other?

  “Taer? Come back to me now.” Korvain’s voice seemed to boom in her ears. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to find him standing there, but there was only the expanse of park at her back.

  “I don’t know how,” she replied, keeping her voice low, afraid she’d be heard.

  “Think about where you are right now, in this realm.”

  Where was she? Taer squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and thought about the apartment, about the couch she was lying on in the living room. She opened her eyes when the scent of Korvain’s skin trickled into her nose.

  He was looking down at her seriously. “What did you see?”

  “Eir was in the park,” she replied, sitting up and realizing how stiff her muscles were after the grueling work-out earlier. “Was I in her dream?”

  “Yeah, it sounds like you were. You did really well, Taer. It took me nearly three cracks at this stuff before I even got close to the hallway into someone’s unprotected mind. It looks like you’re a natural.”

  Taer’s chest puffed out a little with the praise, but if it was that easy for her, wouldn’t it be just as easy for someone else to infiltrate her dreams?

  “Don’t worry. Not all Mares can dream walk. Your private thoughts are safe if you follow the proper precautions,” he said, answering her unasked question. The concern must have been written all over her face. “Try to get some sleep now. Your body needs to repair itself. We’ll start practicing some shielding techniques over the next few days.”

  Too exhausted to argue, Taer got up and slid into the bedroom she shared with Eir. The Valkyrie had her back to Taer, her chest rising and falling steadily under the blanket draped over her. Getting into bed, Taer slid down into the pillows, drifting off into what would no doubt be a restless and nightmare-filled sleep …

  *

  Taer awoke suddenly when she sensed something wasn’t quite right. The base of her neck seemed to tingle in warning. Blinking rapidly, she looked around the endless black hallway she found herself standing in. She realized she was in someone’s dream … but whose?

  Looking over her shoulder, she found a door. Letting out a steadying breath, Taer pushed against the pale wood, the barrier giving way easily. Remembering what Korvain had told her, she stepped through the doorway and into the inky blackness on the other side. Taer waited for the pinprick of light in front of her to grow and expand, to reveal where she was.

  She was indoors. A king-sized bed upholstered in black leather with blood-red sheets took up most of the room. On either side of it sat bedside tables with black lamps and shades. The lamps were both turned off, but there were some candles in small glass jars scattered on both tables, all flickering with a warm light.

  Taer let her eyes drift. The walls were painted dark gray, and almost looked black in the dim light. There was very little furniture in the room, except for a footstool sitting at the end of the giant bed. She walked over to one of the bedside tables and picked up the book lying there.

  The copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was well worn, the pages dog-eared, the binding frayed and warped as if it had been read a thousand times before.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you,” a male’s voice said behind her. Taer spun around, dropping the book to the floor. It landed with a dull thud, matching the hard throb of her heart pounding against her rib cage. Aubrey stood on the other side of the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, his pale skin glistening with droplets of water.

  He sauntered towards her, his hips swaying provocatively. “Despite my lack of attire, I must say this is rather a pleasant surprise.”

  Taer’s eyes fell from his face to chase a rivulet of water that ran down the smooth expanse of his toned chest and stomach before enticingly disappearing into the towel. Her mouth was suddenly dry as desire coursed thick and fast through her blood. The hammering of her heart in her ears only confirmed what she already knew: she was attracted to this male. She swiped the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, and Aubrey’s normally luminescent eyes darkened a fraction when they darted down to watch.

  He smiled at her lazily, the gleam of lust in his eyes unmistakable.

  “Couldn’t wait to see me again?” he asked in his practiced drawl, his lip still hitched up in that grin that seemed to quicken Taer’s breathing. He was trying to throw her off balance, and she wouldn’t let that happen.

  Boldly, she let her eyes wander back down his torso. Aubrey laughed, a husky, throaty sound, causing Taer’s blood pressure to spike.

  “Like what you see, Little Girl?” he asked, amused.

  Taer tilted her chin in defiance at his assumption, even though it was true. He had a warrior’s body, although not like Korvain’s. Korvain was pure muscle and size. Aubrey was much more slender, but his stomach rippled with solid muscle, and his shoulders and arms were highly defined.

  “And if I did?” she shot back, enjoying the hint of surprise on his handsome face.

  He grinned salaciously. “Then I’d say we’d better do something about that. I’d hate to leave you wanting.”

  He let the towel around his waist drop to the ground. It pooled at his bare feet and Taer’s breathing hitched. His semi-erect cock was growing larger, longer and harder under her steady gaze, and the desire she felt for him multiplied a hundredfold.

  Taer met his hot gaze once more, her face blank. “Was that little stunt supposed to impress me?” she asked.

  Aubrey’s smile widened, one hand coming to rest on his heart. “Oh, how you wound me, Little Girl,” he simpered. “But no matter how cool you play this, I know you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you.” He approached her gracefully, his scent swirling around them, drawing her in closer. He was only a few inches away from her now, the flickering candlelight dancing over his bare skin. Taer swallowed hard, her eyes darting back to his face when he spoke again. “I knew you were there, watching me with that woman.”

  He reached up to touch the strands of hair that had come loose from her bun, sliding the silken lengths behind her ear. Even though he hadn’t physically touched her skin, she could feel his hands as if they were touching every inch of her body … intimately.

  “I said I’d find you when I had the information you needed—so why else would you seek me out, hmm?” he asked, his breath warm on her skin. “Just admit it to yourself. You. Want. Me.”

  A shuddered breath left her lungs, her eyes sliding shut. She wanted to surrender to him, but that wasn’t why she had accepted his help. She’d accepted it because he said he could get her close to Darrion.

  And just like that; Aubrey’s spell was broken.

  Taer woke with a gasp, suddenly, as if she’d had a bucket of ice-water thrown on her, her eyelids fluttering rapidly as she took in her surroundings. Her own bed. Her own room. Eir sleeping in the bed nearby. She had made it back, but how in hell had she ended up in Aubrey’s dream in the first place?

  Chapter 12

  Vanaheim—903 AD

  Ten years had passed since the death of Darrion’s parents and little sister, Ara. Ten long years in which thoughts of avenging his family had burrowed into every single cell in his body, festering until as a young Mare he was left hell-bent on taking from Odin what Odin had taken from him.

  Njord’s army had grown exponentially in that time. They had followed in the wake of Odin and his Valkyries, combing through the devastation they’d left behind, seeking out the dark elves who had slipped through the cracks and survived. These Mares were the most dangerous. They had nothing left to lose and everything to gain by training to become killers.

  Darrion wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes on the blood splashed all over the rough ground. So
me of it had been soaked up by the sand thrown on the hard-packed floor. Some was dull and old against the dark dirt.

  And none of it was his.

  Arthon—his opponent—blinked up at Darrion from the floor, his blood streaming out of the cuts to his head, lip and neck. He cradled one elbow in his hand, holding his broken arm close to his body.

  That thought alone brought a sadistic smile to his lips. When Darrion fought, he fought until blood was spilled and his opponent’s body was broken—and even then he didn’t stop.

  “I think you broke my arm,” Arthon mumbled, spitting blood out as he spoke. Darrion’s shoulders lifted slightly. He wasn’t about to waste his fucking energy on any more movement than that.

  “He could have killed you,” another voice said. Darrion regarded Njord, who had appeared from one of the many tunnels leading around their guild house. The Vanir god looked like a proud father, beaming at the good deeds of his son. “But he didn’t because I won’t allow it.”

  Arthon’s eyes lowered in deference. “Yes, master.”

  Njord frowned at him. Darrion watched Njord take in Arthon’s injuries, taking stock of them, calculating where and when Darrion had struck. “Get your wounds attended to,” he ordered.

  Without making eye contact, Arthon struggled to his feet. One of the other Mares rushed over to help him, holding him up and leading him toward a room off the main tunnel that housed a crude medical station. As Mares, the superficial damage they suffered could be healed, but for broken bones and more serious internal injuries, it took time.

  Turning, Njord asked Darrion, “How long did it take you to inflict that much damage?”

  Darrion shrugged. “Forty-five seconds.”

  “You could have done it in thirty.” Njord’s retort wasn’t meant to rile Darrion, but it had that effect.

  “I’ll do better next time.”

  The god regarded him for a moment. “I have no doubt.” He walked away, indicating to Darrion he wanted him to follow. “How was he until he started bleeding out?”