“Did you fuck him?” I asked.
Ella’s sultry laughter tickled my ear. “That’s not any of your business.”
Fire surged, flames licking from the center of my palm. “The hell it isn’t.”
“There there, now.” She slid her hand down my side before lifting the hem of my shirt. Ella trailed her lips across my throat as she systematically stripped me of my weapons and tossed them to the floor. Knowing I didn’t need them anyway, I let her.
Eiven stood and watched us with hatred pouring off him in waves. Had she paralyzed him or was he simply following orders?
I cupped the back of her head, holding her to me. “What’d you do to the wolf?”
Ella scraped her nails up my stomach, leaving little trails of pain that had goose bumps spreading over my skin. “He needs a lesson. He wants what he can’t have, so I’m going to make him watch. When he’s sorry, I’ll let him join in.”
Just what I’d always wanted, a threesome with another man. So not fucking happening.
I tried to calculate the time I’d been in the portal, in the hall and how long it would take for the others to get here. Soon…ish. I spun and pushed Ella up against the wall, fitting my body against hers. Turning my back on the wolf was a risk I was going to have to take.
“I don’t share, babe.” I pushed my emotions out, letting her feel—taste—my demon’s need to possess. Soul or no soul, she was mine.
She made a purring noise that, despite the situation, had my cock hardening. I fisted Ella’s hair and tugged. I slanted my mouth against hers, thinking of my girl, the taste of her, the feel of her against me. This version of Ella was cold, the absence of her heartbeat—our missing bond—jarring.
I focused on sensory memory, collected my desire and threw it out for all to feel. Ella moaned and writhed against me. Behind me, Eiven let out a deep groan as if even he experienced it. I nudged Ella’s legs apart and trailed my hand from her knee up, under the material of her dress.
Close. Closer. Under my touch, the muscles in her thigh quivered. I swept my thumb across the leather scabbard. Bingo. Ella grabbed my wrist and squeezed, nearly snapping through bone.
“Wrong fucking move, demon.”
She threw me off her. The banister hit my lower back with a crack. I bounced off it and forward to the floor, my knees and elbows taking the brunt of the collision. Better than over the railing, I supposed. I glanced at my weapons lining the floor, gaze zeroing in on the stake. I’d never make it.
“Have your fun, Eiven, but leave him alive.” Ella’s voice was a low, cruel warning.
Eiven snarled, nudging the weapon out of reach. He kicked, the tip of his shit-kicker aimed for my face. I sprang from the ground and into a crouch. The demon inside me surged and I let it. Violence filled my vision and I everything I saw dripped red. The wolf and I collided. I buried my fist into his gut and I took his elbow to the jaw.
The tips of his fingers lengthened, extending into claws I barely managed to avoid. He slashed out, catching fabric and shredding the material into ribbons. I dropped my shoulder and rushed him, aiming for his chest. The breath knocked from his lungs and he fell to the ground. I followed him down and swung my fist across his face on one side, then the other.
Savagery filled me. I gripped his head, lifted it from the floor, then slammed it down with a thud. The demon demanded I do it again. And again. Something hot pressed at the edges of my mind. Ella. I released my hold on the unconscious wolf and rose.
Panting through the aggression, filled with a hundred different emotions, I narrowed my gaze on the woman who was currently making my life a living nightmare.
With a coy smirk curving her lips, she ran a finger down her chest, between her breasts. She backed into the room behind her as if inviting me to follow. My dick throbbed, the demon more in control than the man. The front door slammed open from downstairs. The cavalry. Ella snapped her head in the direction of the sound and I charged forward, gripping her wrist.
“No, you don’t,” I growled and pushed her inside what appeared to be a bedroom.
She struggled against my grasp and I used all of my energy to hold her in place, to keep her from phazing. The floor beneath my feet was solid. The air around me potent with the scents of blood. A tacky bed complete with hanging sheets of silk draped across the four posters dominated the room. I focused on these things, keeping me—and by extension her—grounded.
“I’ll kill every last one of them. Then, when I’m done, I’ll let you watch as I cut your brat-child out of my body and feed it to you.”
My heart stopped beating. What the fuck did she just say?
“You didn’t know?” she asked coyly, no longer struggling to get away but pushing closer, having found a new, more effective way to hurt me. Because fuck, did her words hurt.
I curled my lip and felt my nostrils flare out. I squeezed her wrist, channeling my anger. Where she should have felt pain, her eyes lit with pleasure.
I searched her gaze, looking for the lie but finding nothing except a calculated cunningness to say, or do, whatever it took to win this fight.
“You lying bitch.”
Pounding footsteps echoed through the house, mimicking my heartbeat.
“Would I lie to you?” Her voice changed into something low and intimate. “We made a baby, Micah.”
My resolve weakened and I looked down the line of her body to her stomach. I tried to visualize a baby growing in her belly and couldn’t fathom it. A child. My child. The Demon Son. But she was on the Pill, we couldn’t have. Or had we? She’d been off for a couple of weeks now. Emotional. Tired. Horny as hell… Shit. I knew nothing about pregnant chicks.
“Don’t listen to her, Micah,” Castro bellowed and I jerked back to myself, back to Ella’s smug-as-hell grin.
She hissed, her efforts to flee doubling. I held tight, determined not to let her out of my sight. Hannah, Dante on one side, Eli the other, walked into the room. Ella’s sister drew a blade across her palm without even flinching. Drops of blood splattered to the ground.
She spoke, the words rolling off her tongue without an ounce of hesitation. “Accipite offeret sanguinem. Liga eam in carne mea, ut cum illis in herbis.” Hannah threw a small pouch on the ground at Ella’s feet. Magic gathered, lifting her hair into the air. “Et dominabitur a mortuis.”
Books flew from the shelves, pages flapping in an invisible wind she created. The lights flickered.
“Be still!” Hannah threw her hand out and a stream of potent magic whipped through the room, encompassing it.
Ella sucked in a breath and went completely motionless, as ordered. Holy fuck.
“Now, Micah! I can’t…hold it for long,” she said between clenched teeth.
Her face paled, lips tingeing blue. The last thing I saw before I turned was the buckling of her knees as her legs gave out and Dante catching her. Taking advantage of Ella’s frozen state, I reached down and removed the Blade of Souls from the sheath. The black blade gleamed, the gems encrusted on its hilt shimmering. At the end, a lavender light pulsed. Her soul. Shit. I transferred my grip and took aim—her heart. In the same second, Ella broke from Hannah’s spell.
She screamed—loud and long—her rage echoing through the house. Glass shattered, tinkling to the floor. Hannah, Eli and Dante fell to their knees. Castro stumbled in from the hall and curled into the wall. Blood dripped from their noses and they grabbed their heads, as if trying to protect themselves. Her piercing wail cut off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. Ella kicked my arm and the blade fell to the multicolored rug beside the bed.
We looked at the blade, at each other, then back to the bounty. At the same time, we dove for it, but for once, I was quicker.
“I’m going to enjoy ripping out your throat, pretty boy.”
Fangs bared, she went straight for my neck. I rolled her beneath me, pinning her arms above her head. She phazed and I dropped to the ground where she’d been, thwacked my head. Through the stars dancing
in front of my eyes, I twisted, anticipating the best I could where she’d reappear. I guessed right and got a shard of glass in my side as reward. I wrapped my hand around the protruding object, hissed and yanked it out.
We circled each other, her chest heaving up and down. Blood rushed over my side, soaking into my jeans and making the material stick to me. I took in the room. Dante, Eli, Hannah and Castro lay unmoving on the floor.
Grief and anger surged through me and I pushed it away. Had she killed them? Do or die. I feinted right and she followed, knowing my moves. This wasn’t going to work. My gaze landed on the bed where Julian’s pale, still form lay as if he were dead. But that wasn’t the case because Ella couldn’t kill…
Fuck.
I knew what I needed to do. Instead of going for Ella, I lunged at Julian—something she hadn’t expected. The knife glinted and I brought it down, aiming for his heart, seeing his death and nothing but the pile of ash I’d be washing from my hair for the next week.
He’d done this. He’d killed her. For that, he needed to die.
“No!” Ella screamed.
She appeared beneath me and I changed the course of my arm to adjust for the new position. The knife sliced through her skin, thudding into her unbeating heart. Her scream was a gut-wrenching sound. My chest tightened as if I could feel her pain.
I let go of the knife and stared down at her. “I’m sorry, Ella, I swear to fuck, I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widened and she gasped for breath. The crystal exploded, shards of stone cutting my face. I pulled the knife free, the hole in her chest cutting through me. I slammed my eyes shut and drew her close, cradling her slight weight in my arms.
She was so tiny. So cold. So still.
I opened my eyes and pushed the strands of her hair from her face. What the fuck had I done? Blood bubbled from the wound and spilled onto my lap. I pressed my lips to hers and waited for her to disintegrate in my arms.
What if the soul didn’t take?
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, rocking her in my arms while I waited for her true death.
Chapter Nineteen
Heat seared through my chest, infecting my heart and setting my surging blood on fire. I tried to scream, to rage against the pain, but I couldn’t move. Trapped in the dark with only teasing glimpses of pulsing lavender light, I struggled to reach out and grab hold of it. The pale, fucking pansy-ass purple aurora mocked, taunted and judged. The bottom dropped out beneath me and I fell into a pit of endless black.
“Touch her and I’ll break your face.” Micah’s feral growl vibrated through me.
Micah. My mate. My lover. My everything. I fought to free myself from the weight pinning me to the darkness, keeping me from him.
I looked left and then right, struggling to move. Slithering shadows moved through the glow of my soul and surrounded my wrists and ankles, keeping me trapped.
Let me go, damn you!
A deep, patient sigh drifted through my blackness. As my world vanished the voices faded. “I’m only suggesting we move her somewhere she’ll be more comfortable.”
The last thing I heard was Micah. “Fuck off.”
My sins flashed before my eyes—each one worse than the one before it.
I looked into Julian’s bright-blue eyes, tasted his fear and anger. He was helpless—paralyzed by my power. My lips curved up in a pleased smile and I slammed the glass shard into his eye, hitting the little black pin drop as if it was a fucking target. Blood and fluid trailed down his face, making his screams so much sweeter.
Hannah trembled against me, her heartbeat a staccato drum that seduced. She was so fragile, like a little bird. I wanted to rip out her throat and splash around in the puddle of her blood.
A voice that sounded similar to mine echoed—the purple light pulsing with each word as if it spoke. I’ll kill every last one of them. Then, when I’m done, I’ll let you watch as I cut your brat-child out of my body and feed it to you.
The lethargy weighing me down faded and I drudged up the strength to open my eyes. In the stillness of the unfamiliar room, one thing penetrated—I was alone. I flexed my fingers, gripping the cold silk sheets beneath my palms. My lids fluttered, the darkness threatening to consume me, and I pushed it away.
My head spun with images, thoughts, emotions and violent outbursts. Pain. None of it made sense. Was I waking from a nightmare? I pressed my hand to my forehead and sat up, the room spinning in that way it did before I phazed. Except my bout of dizziness didn’t fade.
Vomit churned and I slapped a hand over my mouth, sprinting out of bed, blindly following instincts. My shoulder slammed against the doorjamb to the bathroom and I made it to the toilet without any time to spare. I collapsed to the ground, knees slamming against tile, and retched, my muscles convulsing in protest.
When it was over, ice invaded my veins. I shivered. Beads of cold sweat rolled between my breasts, cutting a path through the dried blood covering me. My stained party dress was no more and I hoped whoever removed my clothing had burned it.
I shoved away from the toilet on shaky legs. I had no idea where I was or why I was here. I searched my memory and nearly fell into the black void that had taken residence in my mind. Flashes of rage, pain, anger and amusement crawled out of the pit like reaching hands, but I couldn’t grasp any of them.
In a daze, I pressed my palm to the wall and shuffled into the shower on wobbly legs. The rush of water was cacophonous in the utter silence, in my solitude. I stepped into the warming spray and rinsed the lingering taste of vomit from my mouth before I washed away the blood. If only it was that easy to sluice away the sin I felt clinging to my soul.
Clean, I shut off the water and stepped free of the stall. Under my wet feet, the floor was slick. I stopped in front of the mirror and stared at the fog, unable to see anything through the steam roiling in the air.
I pressed my palm to the slick mirror and swept away the condensation, revealing my reflection. I stared. Pale skin, dark-brown hair and bright, haunted blue eyes. My breasts were full and tender, the darker-than-normal nipples covered by the trailing strands of my hair. Crimson no longer marked my skin and I simply stared at the spot it had been. My soul ached, a deep throbbing sorrow that filled me.
Micah was gone, no longer connected to me.
As I struggled to reconcile that loss, the previous twenty-four hours hit me. Julian stabbing me. The torture. My glee. My power. My connection to the vampires, the Fenrir. Eiven. Even though my stomach churned, I forced myself to stare into my reflection and own my actions—every horrendous one of them.
I’ll let you watch as I cut your brat-child out of my body and feed it to you.
I might be alive—pregnant—but I sure as fuck wasn’t the same dumbass girl who’d stepped into Julian and Richard’s little trap. Never again. Through the open door, reflected in the mirror, Micah stepped into view.
Black streaks of what looked like soot smudged his cheeks and forehead. Under the charcoal, a bruise in shades of blues and purples ringed his left eye and cheek. A split in the center of his lower lip swelled, and I had a fierce urge to flick my tongue over the hurts and soothe his wounds.
I looked away from the dried rivulet of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, across his stubble-covered chin, and up into his emotion-filled gaze. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept in days.
My soul screamed at me to get closer, to burrow myself against him and never let him go, but I no longer had that right. We weren’t mated. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if he still loved me. I was cognizant of everything he’d done to keep me—to save me. His actions touched me on a level I couldn’t comprehend. He’d gone to hell and back to save me from myself. For that, I could never repay him.
His actions weren’t a guaranteed happily ever after. I didn’t believe in that shit. I could understand if he didn’t want me anymore. After all, had he saved me because he loved me or because he couldn’t kill me?
T
he only thing I could do was man up, prepare for the battles facing us and embrace who I was at my core. A killer. I didn’t see it as such a bad thing anymore, not if it meant protecting Micah, my family, the baby growing inside me. I knew the difference now—had lived on the other side of the grass field or whatever the hell they called it. The black and white lines no longer mattered, not when I painted my gray ones right down the fucking middle.
Morals—my soul—were what kept me in check, kept me from going all psycho-bitch and acting on every violent impulse my feral vampire fed me. Some people deserved to die. Others to live. I was Queen and I knew what that meant now—what I needed to do in order to step up. I also knew the Fenrir needed a leader bound by honor, not a blood addiction that muddled the boundaries.
The silence stretched between Micah and me. He stared at me. I stared back. Even though only a few feet separated us, it felt more like a continent. I lifted my chin, shoring up my strength for whatever blow he was about to deal. I’d terrorized our family and friends, had threatened him with unspeakable things. There was no more bond forcing him to stay with me.
“You’re awake.” His voice was deep and husky, how it got when he was tired and on the verge of sleep.
I swallowed. “Where am I?”
“Julian’s mansion.”
My immediate reaction was to protest, but the words faded. The fear, the emotions, the humiliation at my naïveté all those years earlier were gone, as was the connection with my sire.
“The trial?” I asked.
“In a few hours.”
Micah stepped into the room and my heart kicked up a notch. He was dirty, his clothes torn and stained with blood. A hard edge of tension held his jaw clenched. He’d never looked more appealing. The last lingering swirls of fog faded, as if Micah’s presence forced it from the room.
He stopped in front of me and I turned to him, my bare toes touching his boots. I tilted my head back, the wet strands of my hair dripping down my spine. Rivulets of water rolled ever so slowly, tickling my skin.
Dark Secrets Page 23
