Normally she’d teleport to make her nightly rounds, at least to the outer reaches, but tonight she was too restless. The demon was too hungry. It wasn’t particular about what kind of blood she spilled either. They merged with demons so they’d have the strength to fight the others, the real demons. But the soul that shared hers was nothing but instinct. No thought. No reasoning. And it was growing in power, becoming harder and harder for her to control.
She needed to burn off some of the excess energy, a task that was getting more difficult by the day. She set off into the woods. After checking up on her squad leaders, she’d swing by Mitchell’s. A good fight always helped tame the beast. Sex would be an excellent alternative, but she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d met a man she was interested in who was also strong enough to take her on. She needed an alpha, dominant type, but didn’t know many who could share control of a relationship. Everyone else she eventually reduced to tears.
The narrow path she followed switched back down the side of a hill. She didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings until the forest went eerily silent and she knew she was no longer alone. Then she smelled them, the rank sulfur scent no demon could completely hide heavy in the formerly sweet air. When she came around the last corner into a clearing, three demons waited. They glowed orangish-red under the full moon, short pointed horns announced their low status as much as the fact they hadn’t bothered, or more likely hadn’t been able, to disguise themselves as human. But despite their status and limited abilities, they were three mature demons. Dangerous. Probably deadly if she took them on by herself. If she followed procedure, she would teleport far enough away for safety and wait for backup to arrive.
She never even considered following the rules.
Drawing her knives, she rushed them. All training, strategy, caution was forgotten. She let her control of the demon half of her soul slip. Felt, even shared, the euphoria that filled it at the thought of battle, of bloodshed and carnage. Winter let the rage at finding three of the enemy in her territory take over her actions.
Just as she expected, they gathered close to each other with just enough room between them to fight. Lesser demons didn’t have enough brain power for strategy. They depended on brute strength and bloodlust. She used her superior speed and agility to whirl through the clump, slashing out with her blade as she went. The first fell dead before she was through.
Then she smelled the blood. Not the viscous black stuff demons oozed, but hot and tangy and human. Hers. One of them had managed to slice the back of her leg with the razor-sharp edge of the triangle tip on its tail. It burned. Rage nearly blinded her and she fought against it, forcing her demon half to submit so that she could think as the other two began to circle her.
Her mind was slowing, her movements already growing sluggish. Shit. The tip of the demon’s tail was poisonous. How had she forgotten that? Eventually her body would fight it off, but she’d be left defenseless for days first. She concentrated on her home, tried to fix the image in her mind, but it was too late to teleport, her abilities already too dulled.
She’d fucked up. Royally. She’d walked into a trap, that much was obvious now. Her death would leave her people open and exposed. Too much of her energy was directed at fighting the poison to try to send a message to Gia with telepathy. She whispered a prayer begging forgiveness then mentally grounded herself in the here and now. She might not walk out alive, but she’d take at least one more with her. As if sensing her body’s losing battle against their poison, the demons moved closer and she gripped her knives.
They split apart, one approaching from the front while the other moved to her left. She twisted her head as much as she dared to watch, tried to keep an eye on both of them. When he moved beyond her field of vision she lunged forward, using the last of her strength to thrust a knife at the heart of the demon before her. She had the satisfaction of feeling it crunch through his ribs and hit home before her legs gave out. Falling to her knees, she caught herself on her palms, waiting for the blow and bracing herself. She refused to die facedown in the dirt.
A thump came from behind her but she didn’t feel it. She found the energy to twist her body, fell more than sat down on her ass. The sight before her was confusing. Her synapses just refused to work anymore.
Chapter Two
Marcus Black, Lord of the nightwalkers, left the council meeting more exasperated than angry. He waved his twin, Luke, away and set off into the woods by himself. It’d be easier to just teleport home but the walk would work off his irritation. The councilors, a hidebound group of crotchety old men in his opinion, didn’t believe the recent increase in demon activity was anything to worry about. They were much more concerned with the increasing numbers of hybrids and lupines in the area. Idiots, all of them. At least those forces were growing to meet the threat.
Distracted and edgy, he veered off on a path he seldom used. It would lead him home by a longer route and skim by hybrid territory in the process. He couldn’t say what urged him, what drove him in that direction, but he didn’t fight it.
He’d reached the point closest to hybrid lands when he felt it. A void, like a pocket of nothingness in the air, his mind picked up. Demons. He followed it off the path, deeper into the woods, and then he smelled it. The unmistakable stench of a demon, like hell itself.
Then another scent reached his nostrils, sweet and alluring. Curious, he let his senses expand to gather data as he tracked the demons. His mind brushed against hers, then returned, intrigued. A hybrid female. She was so agitated that she didn’t notice his entrance into her mind. What he found there infuriated him.
His contact with hybrids was limited to the yearly meeting of the Alliance. The hybrid representative at those meetings was Benjamin, their regional commander. The lands he was now trespassing in, however, belonged to a quadrant leader he’d never met. He’d heard the leader was a woman, but hadn’t paid enough attention to say for sure. He didn’t approve of women becoming soldiers in the war with the demons. But hell, he had enough problems with his own people without borrowing someone else’s.
This foolish woman had engaged three demons on her own, however. He couldn’t walk away and leave her to her own devices and certain death. It went against everything in his nature and when he realized one of the demons had poisoned her he hurried forward. His blood pumped with the need to fight, to defend. Instincts finely honed over centuries and an excitement that never faded.
The clearing was blessedly close. Two demons were down, but the third stood over her, a curved wicked-looking blade in one hand. Without thinking, Marcus drew his throwing knives and let one fly. It hit home with a thud and the demon fell. It was over much too quickly, left him feeling disappointed and cheated. He needed a good brawl. It took a few minutes to slow his heart and mind, to shake the rest of the too-short fight from his skin.
Then he got his first good look at the woman. The hybrid he’d rushed to rescue. She looked more like a maiden in a tower than a half-demon warrior. Her pale blond hair was in a single braid that almost reached her waist. Long tendrils had come free to frame her face. He had an irrational urge to touch it, wanted to know what it would feel like. Was it as smooth and silky as he imagined? Her features were delicate, a loveliness at odds with the strength and independence in her mind. At odds with the power of her mind. This was no ordinary hybrid.
Her stunned expression looked like an invitation. He wished it was in reaction to him, but he was in her mind, felt the poison moving swiftly through her system. She was helpless and for a brief moment he entertained taking advantage of it. His body was hard and throbbing in half a second. It was such a barbaric thought, such a primitive reaction, that it jolted him. He examined his reaction and then her mind, and came to one unavoidable conclusion.
He had to have her. In every way imaginable and then a few new ones. But it wouldn’t be tonight or even next week. It would take weeks for her to heal from the demon poison and just as long to learn t
o trust him, but she would. Then he would make her his.
Chapter Three
The demon was dead, and the most beautiful man Winter had ever seen was standing over him with a knife in one hand. He was tall, broad-shouldered and sleekly muscled, with midnight black hair just brushing his shoulders. He noticed her and seemed to glide forward. Smooth. Measured. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Nightwalker.
Soul eater.
Something like the vampires of myth, but subsisting on psychic energy instead of blood. He shouldn’t be on her land. Shouldn’t be rushing to her rescue. It was barely more acceptable than running into three demons in her own damned woods. He crouched before her and reached a finger out to trace the line of her jaw. If she’d had enough muscle control left, she would have flinched from the touch. Angry glacial blue eyes met hers.
“You’ve been poisoned.”
She jerked a nod. “Be fine.” The poison had reached her chest. Soon her vocal cords would stop functioning. “Few days. Sleep.”
“You can’t stay out here to recover.”
She nodded again—it was too much effort to speak—and tried to stand. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate and she almost groaned out loud. She’d have to call Gia and Dupree for help and risk the lecture. She moved her hand to her belt but her fingers wouldn’t grip, wouldn’t pop the cell phone free of its case or key the emergency button on the side.
The nightwalker snarled then bent to scoop her up. He lifted her as if she was weightless. She would have protested if she could speak, would have struggled if her body would obey her. It wasn’t wise to show this much weakness to him. Walkers weren’t the enemy, but they weren’t exactly friends either. They were simply part of an uneasy and relatively new alliance between the three supernatural races. They tended to keep their distance from hybrids like herself and the other part of the triumvirate, the lupines.
Legend said once the nightwalkers and lupines had been one race, and the disagreements that had originally divided them eons ago still held sway. It was a story she’d never been interested in hearing before, but now she wondered what truth was behind it. Some people refused to let go of the past. And when those people damned near lived forever? Well, they knew how to nurture a grudge.
She knew plenty of lupines, knew how they were a threat, knew who could be trusted. But the standoffish nightwalkers were a mystery. She only knew rumors and so she had no idea how much danger, if any, she was really in.
The walker cradled her close and stepped into the woods, striding briskly back to the trail she’d come from. The paralytic poison had completely taken over and she was limp in his arms. Defenseless. Her control of her mind’s shields was also failing, but she only felt a moment of unease. She should have been alarmed. Not too long ago he probably would have killed her on sight. Maybe the odd sense of safety was a side effect of the drug because her brain finally reengaged, tried to voice a demand that he release her. Her thinking seemed to be fine, but her ability to speak was frozen along with everything else. She fought to regain control of her body, fear rising like gorge in her throat.
Shh. I’m only taking you home.
Shit shit shit. Like hybrids, nightwalkers had varying mental powers. Wouldn’t she be unlucky enough to end up powerless with one of the walkers strong enough to get past what was left of her mental walls? She was a strong telepath, a gift from her demon, and it was rare for anyone to get into her head without invitation. Circumstances were far from optimal though.
She turned her mind inward, examined what was left of her shields and cringed at the damage. They were more like swiss cheese than the solid wall of protection they should be and she hastily tried to repair them. The damaged shields wouldn’t just leave her defenseless with him. There were other strong telepaths among the hybrids and walkers.
She worked furiously to fix the breaks, ignoring the twinge of guilt she felt for not trusting all of her own people, all the while seething at herself. She should never have lost control, never have engaged three demons by herself. Now she was more vulnerable than any hybrid, than any human. He could wipe her mind clean if he wanted to. Anyone else could strike out at her.
Stupid, Winter, she fumed. Really stupid.
Yes, it was. Disapproval and anger were heavy in the male voice invading her mind. What the hell were you thinking?
She ignored him. Refused to attempt to justify her actions to a stranger. A nightwalker. She hadn’t been thinking at all. It was an amateur mistake and she knew it, but none of his business. Didn’t change the fact she knew she’d screwed up. She should have teleported out, should have at least called for assistance before she attacked.
She’d love to pretend it was anger and her slipping control over her demon that had led to her rashness, but she forced herself to be brutally honest. She was bored, tired of the same old crap day after day, looking for a good fight, looking for something. Anything new and different, anything that would banish the sameness from her life. There was no telling how dearly she would pay for that yearning if he decided not to honor the peace between them.
Now you’re insulting me. There was a low menacing growl inside her head. She must be losing her mind because it didn’t scare her at all. Instead she experienced a surge of satisfaction that even incapacitated she could get under his skin. She was tempted to taunt him further. The reaction made no sense and she blamed it on the poison, focused on getting away from him.
Put me down. I have a phone to call for help. It rankled, but if she were at someone’s mercy she’d prefer it be Gia or Dupree. Them she trusted. She sensed disappointment from him over her lack of faith. Why would he expect her to trust him? She didn’t ask and he didn’t offer any explanations.
We’re almost there. There are people waiting.
She only wondered where there was for a moment. Of course he knew where he was going. He was in her head. Just then he broke through the tree line into the small yard at the back of the compound, the one she’d only recently departed from. Gia and Dupree were speaking quietly on the patio, froze for only half a second before both leaping forward. They might have attacked if not for the nightwalker’s loud snarl.
“What happened?” Dupree demanded.
“Demon poison,” came the curt reply.
And it was taking over. She couldn’t respond to their questions. She felt herself slipping into the long slow slide of unconsciousness. Her eyes closed against her mind’s command to pay attention.
“We’ve got her now.”
She felt a sweep of skin, knew Dupree was reaching for her. The nightwalker’s fingers convulsed around her, holding on for a second that seemed to stretch to minutes before finally letting her go. His mind brushed hers again but she wasn’t sure later if she’d imagined his whispered words or not. Until later, Winter. Then there was nothing but silence.
She didn’t even get his name.
Chapter Four
Winter slept for a week and spent another few days frail as the human she once was. The weakness was at varying times frustrating, infuriating and depressing, but a few weeks later she was physically one hundred percent again. Unfortunately, she was in more danger than ever of losing herself to the demon half of her soul. She spent hours sparring with Mitchell, the alpha who was the current leader of the lupines, trying to burn off the extra energy, her lieutenants tagging along half the time whether she ordered them away or not. She’d finally given up trying. She struggled less when they stuck together, but even that was just a stopgap measure. Her time was running out.
She’d been looking for a replacement for weeks. Gia and Dupree, who insisted on staying as single as she did, were not viable options. Without a bonded mate, they were at as much risk of losing control of the demon as she was. She had a couple of candidates, but every time she considered approaching one of them, every time she turned over the pros and cons of each individual, a pissed-off nightwalker made himself known in her mind. It was like he’d put a tripwire in her subconsci
ous that alerted him every time she considered her grim future. And like clockwork…
You have a long and excellent future ahead of you. Even though she was expecting him to show up in her head, she froze for half a second, actually forgot where she was. He didn’t sound angry tonight. His voice was smooth and sinful as dark chocolate. Just as decadent. Just as pleasurable. His anger she could take. But this sexy man who stoked a raging fire of need in her and then left her wanting was another matter.
A set of wolf claws scraped her skin an inch below her jugular. “Jesus, Winter. Pay attention,” Dupree muttered.
“That would be easier to do if I didn’t have the peanut gallery giving me advice every five seconds,” she snapped back.
That goes for you, too. Get out of my head.
Oh, but I have a right to be here, baby.
“It’d be easier if you sucked it up and just got laid,” Mitchell mumbled.
That did it. They could both go to hell. She ignored the amused laughter in her head and snarled, circling the large blue exercise mat again.
Good advice. Advice she’d love to take, except every time she made up her mind to take up Mitchell’s offer of a tumble between the sheets or find someone else equally as willing, the nightwalker’s face filled her vision. His voice whispered in her head that she was his, that her body belonged to him. She couldn’t begin to guess why she heeded his warnings. She’d never been good at following orders or giving in to coercion, but no matter how much she tried to talk herself around it she obeyed his.
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