Dark Secrets

by Madeline Pryce

  “Micah?” Eli’s voice was distant.

  I clutched my chest, struggling to keep my skin from splitting apart. I felt as if I’d been stabbed. Through the sensations, I homed in on the pain—focused until I found the source. Not knifed, the agony ran deeper. Someone—something—was ripping out my soul.

  No. Not my soul.

  Ella’s.

  Her scream echoed in my head despite the unknown distance between us, her voice raw and cracking. I couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t save her. Unimaginable pain gripped me with a savagery I hadn’t known existed. I pressed a hand to my gut, clutching fabric and skin in a pathetic attempt to keep Ella with me. On the other end of the bond she fought just as hard as me. Bit by bit, one intermingled strand at a time, our bond sheared apart. The skin marked with my mating tattoo tingled, a gradual fading as my mate took her last breaths.

  No. No. No.

  A deep, guttural yowl ripped from my throat. Before I could ball my hands into fists, my limbs seized. I pitched forward, my cheek colliding with the floor. Ice filled my veins, eradicating the fire inside me and paralyzing the demon. Violent tremors shook me from head to toe and I flopped on the floor.

  I had to get up. Had to save her.

  “Micah?”

  I heard Eli’s voice but couldn’t answer. Couldn’t form the words. Couldn’t think beyond the ripping anguish. Beyond the cold. Beyond the grief.

  Ella. Jesus, fuck. I knew what the pain meant. Knew that she was…dying. My heart broke, shattering much like the tumbler I’d thrown at Eli had when it had crashed against the wall. Behind my closed lids I saw Ella, saw the cascade of blood running across her stomach, felt it as if it were me bleeding to death and not her.

  “Micah?” Eli asked again, panic spiking his voice.

  The vibration of my chattering teeth thundered. My racing pulse slowed under the weight of the torment filling me. My surroundings spun in shades of gray. And then, there was nothing. No pain. No ice. No heartbreak. Nothing.

  Without Ella life was…a void.

  I rolled my head to the side and looked down the long line of my outstretched arm. My balled fist, the one marked by my demon, slowly uncurled. The time between my beating heart slowed, slowed, slowed…stopped, mimicking Ella’s. The last thing I saw was my palm, fingers stretched as if reaching out for the woman who’d been stolen from me.

  I love you.

  I came awake to a hard, quick slap across my face, the noise of it ringing out. I snapped my eyes open with a gasp. Before I could sit up, someone pushed me back to the bed. Sobs filled the room and I struggled to bring my surroundings in to focus. Was I still in the basement? Still locked in that cage? Where was Ella?

  Her heady, intoxicating scent engulfed me, a mixture of power and darkness. I drew it in, memorizing each facet.

  “Ella,” I rasped, my voice raw and cracking as if I’d been screaming.

  The crying grew louder, the agonized sound tearing through me. The room came into focus. I was in the bedroom Ella and I shared. In the corner, Hannah sat curled in Dante’s lap. Her long blonde hair hung over her face like a sheet. As if she felt my gaze, she lifted her head and the golden strands parted. Her red-rimmed eyes were glassy from the overflowing tears. Her nose was red, forehead splotched. Her chin quivered and she let out a hiccupping cry.

  Ella.

  Memory slammed into me and I was back inside the cage, forced to watch—to feel—her death. The bond between us was no more. A new bout of pain filled me and I knew in the depths of my being Ella was gone.

  Dead.

  No. I couldn’t accept it. I screwed my eyes shut and fought the burn behind my lids. Hoping to stop the riot of emotion spiraling out of control, I curled my hand into a tight fist and pressed it to my forehead. Helplessness filled me as swiftly as the grief.

  “Look at me,” Castro ordered.

  I opened my eyes and found myself staring into my uncle’s guilt-stricken face. He gripped my shoulder tighter, drawing my attention to the fact he’d been touching me the entire time.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

  “Tell me where she is.”

  Castro clenched his jaw, the muscles under his trimmed black beard twitching in rhythmic pulses. “We can’t locate her…”

  I shoved his hand off me. Anger and rage coalesced, beating everything else to a bloody pulp. Something pulsed in my gut—a spark, a miniscule piece of my soul that called out to me. I felt it like an echo, a vague sense of Ella being there but not there, like a shade caught between life and death.

  Don’t you fucking dare give up on her.

  “What. The. Fuck. Happened. To. Ella?” I growled.

  Hannah’s sobs increased tenfold, echoing throughout the room. It was a sharp contrast to the cries of ecstasy Ella had so freely given me when I’d made love to her only hours before. Dante’s deep rumbling voice chased Hannah’s anguished noises, but I knew nothing he could say would ease her pain. Nothing no one said could erase the hurt.

  “We don’t know,” Castro said. “Eli’s been trying to get in contact with Eiven, but the Fenrir isn’t picking up. Julian cannot be reach either.”

  Eiven. Julian. Fucking disgraces. I snarled, knowing that they should have been protecting her and knowing that they’d failed.

  I threw the sheets off my lap and looked down as I swung my legs off the side of the bed. I stopped and stared at my naked skin. I remembered the way my flesh had heated and tingled, recalled how my bond with Ella had been torn apart piece by piece. No bond. No crimson lines marking me as a mated demon.

  They were simply gone—erased as if they had never been.

  Rage propelled me out of bed despite the trembling in my legs. The room spun and I shoved forward anyway. Castro was there, catching me when I would have hit the floor.

  “You are too weak to be out of bed. It’s a miracle you survived at all. Your heart stopped beating for five minutes.”

  A fierce rumbling tore from my throat and I shoved Castro away, standing on my own merit. “Fuck you. If you’d let me follow her, if I’d been there, she’d be safe. She’d be here with me! This is your fault.”

  I crossed the room in the direction of Hannah, each stride filling me with the strength of vengeance. Julian was going to wish he’d never been born. His death wouldn’t be quick or clean. In fact, he might not die at all. I’d keep him alive, let him heal between bouts of my temper. When I got tired of the vampire, I’d move on to the werewolf. The demon hissed its approval, adding everything it had to aid me in my quest.

  Hannah blinked at me, large fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Fear replaced the grief in her eyes. My brother stepped in front of me, his body a solid wall of muscle to block my view.

  “Micah, take a minute,” he warned.

  I snarled, pushing him out of the way. Hannah would know where Julian had taken Ella. I’d start there.

  Dante set Hannah on her feet and stood in front of her with his meaty arms crossed over his chest. Behind him, Hannah backed up against the wall and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. She shook her head, more tears falling free. The shifter lifted his lip and drew my focus. The canines he exposed were too long for a human. Energy rolled off him, a clear sign of danger. With nothing to lose, I stepped into the skin-splitting power surrounding him.

  When he spoke, his voice had a rolling vibration to it. “Listen to your brother. Violence dances in your eyes. You aren’t getting anywhere near my girl.”

  The demon surged and strength pulsed through me. I grabbed Dante’s shirt and lifted him off the ground, tossing him against the wall hard enough to leave a dent. Hannah shrieked and darted to the right, but I was quicker. I caught her, pinching her cheeks together and pursing her lips to keep her still.

  “You’ve looked over all the deeds, all the assets.” I spoke fast, my words running together and gaining volume. “Tell me where Julian would have taken her for the party.”

  “Micah.” She grabbe
d my forearm and sobbed, her terror touchable. “You’re hurting me.”

  Moisture trailed over my fingers where I gripped her and I shook her. “Tell me!”

  “Let her go.” Eli’s voice was fierce, his hands hard where he and Castro pried my grip from Hannah. They pushed me back and took guard in front of the key I needed to find my mate.

  Dante rose from the ground and swayed, blood dripping from a gash at his temple. When he would have lunged for me, Castro was there, whispering into his ear and holding him back. I turned from them and stalked through the room as brutality consumed me.

  I picked up the lamp from the end table—one of the only furnishings Ella and I had picked out together—and threw it across the room. Ceramic shattered and fell to the wood floor in large chunks. I took hold of the bedding that still smelled of blood, sex and Ella—tore the sheets from the mattress and ripped the fabric to shreds.

  My breath sawed through me. Everywhere I looked, remnants of my life with Ella taunted me. Where we’d made love on the dresser. Up against the wall. On the plush rug in the center of the room when we hadn’t been able to make it to the bed. For two straight days when we’d first moved in we’d done nothing but make love, both of us determined to claim this space as our own, to mark it with our scents.

  What I saw, I destroyed. I pulled furniture from walls, picked up drawers and tossed. Clothing sailed through the air, floating on a vicious gust of wind from an open window. I raged and raged. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough to appease the consuming violence straining to be free.

  My mate was gone and she wasn’t coming back.

  She was never coming back.

  I collapsed to the floor in the middle of the room, threw my head back and screamed.

  She’d needed me and I failed her.

  I’d never again hear her laughter—see her smile—feel her go all soft when I stroked that spot deep inside her.

  “Don’t…” someone warned seconds before Hannah’s face filled my vision.

  I looked into her sorrow-filled gaze and lost myself. The backs of my eyes heated with grief and my vision blurred. She dropped to her knees in front of me as if she couldn’t bear to stand any longer. We stared at each other for long seconds—sharing our pain—before she threw herself at me, wrapping her long, slender arms around me and pressing her tear-stained face into my neck. I clutched the back of her head, holding on to her for dear life.

  “Roy woke up while you were unconscious. The first thing he asked for was Ella and I…I couldn’t tell him. Didn’t know how…” She spoke against my skin, her words muffled but understandable. “Julian wouldn’t have taken Ella to one of Lizbeth’s properties, not for this. He has a mansion about an hour from here—it’s where they used to go when they were together. Get dressed and I’ll write down the directions for you. If he was going to…kill her, he’d do it there. I can’t tell Roy until I know what happened.”

  I pulled her away from me and nodded as I smoothed the tangled strands of her hair from her face. I searched her gaze, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I shouldn’t have let her go alone. I should have found a way to follow her…”

  She pressed her finger against my lips, silencing me. Something dark filled her eyes and made her look more like Ella than I’d ever seen. The ache in my chest amplified.

  “Make his death slow. Painful. I want him to pay, Micah.”

  I stroked the bruises I’d left on her cheek and nodded. “You have my word.”

  Dante drew her away from me and I stood. The room was a disaster of dented walls, broken glass, strewn clothes, splintered wood and upended furniture. I strode to the walk-in closet and tried to ignore the sensory memories sweeping through me.

  Ella throwing her head back on a laugh as I chased her. The silky feel of her skin under my touch. The pleasure filling her eyes when I fucked her long and slow. The scent of her desire. The taste of her when she climaxed against my mouth.

  I focused on the tiny kernel of her soul calling out to me from beyond. Was it Ella or was my mind playing tricks on me?

  I dressed, pulling on clothes even as I bent in front of the weapons chest that had belonged to generations of hunters in Ella’s family. Blood dripped onto my jeans and I looked at the cuts on my knuckles and forearms. Ignoring my wounds, I strapped on two guns, selected a couple of different knives—one of Ella’s favorite Brimstone blades and two small Silverstone daggers. Once I had my arsenal selected, I shoved my feet into boots and laced them up.

  Castro and Eli blocked my path into the bedroom—I glared at them.

  “Move.”

  “This isn’t smart,” Castro said and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Eli chimed in next. “Do we know she’s dead for sure? I found some more information on the Blade of Souls. It’s not pretty, Micah. If Richard found a way to get to Ella and he stabbed her, the weapon would remove her soul but not kill her.”

  Hope surged inside him. If she wasn’t dead, he could fix her.

  “This could be a trap to lure you to him,” Eli kept talking. “He must know we broke into the hospital, that we have Mom.”

  “Fuck what’s smart. I’m going.” I glared at both men. “Neither one of you will stop me because deep down inside you know you screwed up by caging me.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Eli said.

  I shook my head. “No. I can smell the liquor on your breath. I don’t need you getting hurt because you’re drunk, and I don’t have time to babysit you. Dealing with Julian once and for all is something I have to on my own.”

  I pushed between them and stalked through the ruin of the bedroom. After tonight, I’d never step foot in here again.

  “Listen to reason, Micah,” Castro said, the frustration in his voice taking second fiddle to my need for retribution.

  “If I listened to reason, I never would have let her go in the first place. All for what? Pride? My word? Because I made some half-assed promise while Ella lay on her deathbed two months ago? I shouldn’t have let her go. I knew it. She knew it. I’m going to go get my girl back.”

  Hannah shoved a piece of paper into my hand as I passed. I looked down at her elegant script and clutched the only link to Ella I had left. I curled my hand into a fist and the paper crinkled.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  I nodded and walked from the room. Unfolding the paper in my fist, I concentrated on the directions instead of my surroundings. By the time I’d stepped outside, into the gusting snow, I knew exactly where I needed to go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the last wisps of my humanity were stolen from me, I succumbed to the dark—a place of true freedom. Without the restriction of my soul, I evolved into the creature I was always meant to be. I threw my head back and screamed—a sound of both pure torment and sheer pleasure. An untapped well of power and centuries-old knowledge filled the void where my spirit had been—redefining who I was to the core. Ruthless. Cunning. Cruel.

  I was Queen.

  The agonizing pain vanished. In its place, a cold calmness settled. Silence punctuated the absence of my heartbeat, of Julian’s. In that same quiet, a faint echo of life called out to my senses, too faint to comprehend. What was it?

  My curiosity faded with my first indrawn breath. The fragrance of rust and honey filled me so strongly I tasted the blood saturating the air. My mouth watered. My fangs throbbed. The hunger I’d ignored for so many years refused to be denied any longer.

  I looked at the knife sticking out from my chest, ready to pull the damn thing out and toss it to the ground. Something caught my attention and I tilted my head to study it closer. At the end of the blade’s hilt was a crystal I hadn’t paid much attention to. No longer clear, the gem shimmered with some kind of a pansy-assed lavender substance that pulsed with ceaseless movement.

  The trapped essence was my soul—my weakness. Never-fucking-again.

  I lifted my gaze from the knife and found Julian staring at
me with a hungry gleam in his bright-blue eyes. I let a slow, seductive smile curl my lips as I stepped to him. He wanted to fuck me. To possess me. To mold me into something I’d never be—his pet.

  “Ella,” he breathed.

  My sire pushed his will against the boundaries of my mind and I batted the attempted invasion away like an annoying gnat. Fucker was trying to control me. I reacted on the feral instinct I’d pushed away for years, no longer bound by the rules of humanity. I was finally free to do what I wanted.

  Morals were for those who cared.

  My smile faded. Too quick for even Julian to realize, I grabbed his wrist and jerked it back until his fingers touched his forearm. Bones snapped like dry, brittle twigs. His deep groan of pain was as satisfying as the shock dancing in his gaze. The tiny hurt wasn’t enough. He needed to pay for everything he’d ever done to me.

  “You pathetic asshole,” I hissed and drove my knee up, directly into his balls.

  I shoved forward with my will, chasing the path of his emotions until I breached his mind and held his pitiable life in the palm of my hand. His thoughts drifted through me in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors, words, pictures and emotions. I could feel them—touch them. I could twist them at my whim.

  Julian thought to control me. Soul or no soul, he felt he owned me. The deeper I went, the hotter my rage burned. He’d plotted with Richard, my known enemy—his need to make me his once more knowing no bounds.

  Richard’s rat-like eyes and up-tilted stubborn chin filled my vision and I homed in on the exact moment their bond had been forged. Suit pressed, blond hair combed over to the side—Richard in a booth that obscured his features. Sensual pulses of music filled the air and I drew in the scents of smoke, the chatter of conversation. In the background, a lithe redhead gyrated against a pole. Her tits glistened as if she’d been dipped in oil and dusted with glitter.

  Richard’s voice was clear, as if I was there and not studying the memory. “You want Ella and I want Micah free from her. I’ve got a solution that will benefit us both.”