Wicked After Dark: 20 Steamy Paranormal Tales of Dragons, Vampires, Werewolves, Shifters, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Mina Carter

  A loud ‘thud’ echoed between the buildings. Kyndel stumbled to a stop. She looked and listened. The longer she thought about what she’d heard, the easier it was for her to convince herself someone had yelled for help. So, for the second time in about as many minutes, she searched the inky shadows for signs of life. Her anxiety level quadrupled the longer she stood still. She wanted to scream when only the sound of leaves rustling across the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by reached her ears.

  Disgusted, she grumbled aloud, “You’ve gone bonkers, Kyn.” The sound of her own voice somehow calmed her rankled nerves and she added, “Get to stepping, girlie.”

  The clicking of her heels bounced off the brick wall of the library as she hurried past. Resuming her original mantra, she added Must kill Grace at the end for good measure.

  “I swear when I get my hands on…”

  Her words were cut short as the unmistakable sound of a man groaning came from the shadows.

  A chill skittered down her spine.

  Goose bumps covered her arms.

  She counted to three, unable to move… simply listening… praying it was only her imagination. One deep breath later, she slid her right foot forward, prepared to make a beeline for home at a high rate of speed.

  The groan came again. Closer than before. More desperate… almost pleading.

  The need to help the injured grew within her. Turning towards the darkness, Kyndel searched for the source of the noise.

  Shaking so much her teeth chattered, she looked for any sign of the man she knew needed her help.

  “It’s time to make a decision, Kyndel. Fight or flight. What’s it gonna be? God knows standing like a bump on a log isn’t solving a damn thing.”

  Flight won. She turned, almost running, her satchel clutched tightly to her side like a lifeline.

  “Keep your head up and eyes front. Home’s only a few blocks away,” she reassured herself, with the promise of snatching her best friend bald for the stupid mess she was in.

  Feeling guilty and worried for Grace, her heart at war with her brain, Kyndel thought aloud, “Hope everything’s okay…”

  Grace had always been a little scatter-brained, but she’d never just forgotten Kyndel before. It bothered her that there’d been no answer at Grace’s office or on her cellphone when Kyndel had tried to track her down before leaving the office. She’d even taken a chance and tried her own home because Grace had a key, but only got voicemail there, too. It was a war between anger and worry that accompanied most of her thoughts about her friend lately.

  The running joke was that Grace spent most of her time hooking up with eligible bachelors she met at work. The good Lord knew her bestie was gorgeous; five foot nine, long raven hair, blue eyes, and a curvy body without an extra ounce of fat. To top it off, she was a first year lawyer, with a promising career. Grace had it all… brains and beauty, the total package.

  Giggling nervously, she gave herself a mental swat to the back of the head. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to Grace, just a bump or bruise, even a hangnail would explain being left. If she really had just forgotten, Kyndel was going to be pissed and more than a little hurt.

  The shadows seemed to be closing in. Fear pushed Kyndel until she was almost jogging in her sensible work heels. Looking over her shoulder, the toe of her shoe caught an uneven piece of concrete, and from one heartbeat to the next, she was falling forward. Arms flailing, mouth stretched wide in a wordless scream, the sidewalk racing toward her face, everything around her seemed to happen in slow motion. All she could think was that’s gonna leave a mark.

  Bracing for impact, she squeezed her eyes tight and prayed… then nothing happened. Opening one eye, then the other, Kyndel found herself hanging above the sidewalk, looking at a pair of the biggest feet she had ever seen—and they were sexy.

  Sexy feet? I really am losing it. Wait! Why the hell am I above the concrete?

  Warmth radiated from the perfectly muscled arm wrapped around her midsection. Goose bumps emanated from the extra-large hand holding firmly to her blouse, just a little too close to her breast.

  She wiggled to change position, the cushion of her well-rounded ass finding the ridges of an incredibly hard set of abs. She trembled. Her heart raced. Just the thought of the man that could hold her upright made up for all her previous mishaps.

  Within just a few seconds, Kyndel’s world turned on its axis. The scenery blurred as she was effortlessly spun around and immediately found herself sitting atop the body of her rescuer, looking at faded denim covering extremely muscular thighs. Laughing aloud, she asked herself,wonder what part I’ll see next?

  The same muscled arm that had saved her face from certain demise now kept her upright. She did a one-eighty, draped her legs over his thighs, with her knees barely touching the sidewalk, and got her first look at the top half of her rescuer. All she could do was gape. He was absolutely the most handsome man she’d ever seen, with features that looked like they’d been carved by expert hands.

  Even with his eyes closed, he gave off the distinctive air of authority. The dim light highlighted his high cheekbones and aristocratic nose, adding to the power she felt radiating from his every pore. His perfectly formed lips made visions of passionate kisses and hot sweaty nights dance through her brain. It didn’t help that all he had on was a pair of well-worn blue jeans.

  She imagined that denim riding low on his tapered hips when he stood, highlighting the incredibly sexy dimples that sat on the front of his hips. She absolutely knew without looking they were there, and that simple bit of knowledge made her temperature rise another degree, despite the cool breeze.

  At the touch of her fingertips against the cool skin of his neck, an electric current arced between them. Flashes of light burst before her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision, then felt for his pulse, strong and steady against her digit. Heat rose from his skin, making her worry he might have a fever. Her eyes wandered down his well-toned body. She scoffed, unsuccessfully trying to convince herself she was only checking for further injury.

  Who the hell do you think you’re fooling?

  She continued her perusal, taking note of his massive shoulders and a chest that could’ve been sculpted from granite. The light smattering of hair that glistened in the shards of light from the streetlamps emphasized his nipples, which were pebbled from the cool breeze. Her mouth watered and her pulse raced.

  What the hell is it about this guy? Is he doused in pheromones? Or am I in heat?

  Her eyes landed on the best set of abs she’d ever seen. Unable, or maybe it was unwilling, to stop her hand, she traced the defined lines of his eight-pack, mesmerized by the feel of his skin beneath her fingers. The electricity continued to flow between them. The sound of a horn in the distance pulled her from her musing and brought her current situation into the glaring light of reality. The sexy man that had kept her from breaking her face on the concrete was out cold, and she was paying him back by sitting on his lap and copping a feel.

  She scrambled to her feet, surprised her rescuer hadn’t moved an inch during her less than graceful attempt to remove her butt from his lap. But there he lay, unmoving, except for the rise and fall of his chest. The longer he remained unconscious, the more panicked she became.

  Looking up and down the street and cursing Grace for the hundredth time, Kyndel wished for her car. First Aid class had taught her never to move an injured person unless you knew what was wrong. Not that she could pick him up and carry him, anyway. The dude was HUGE. At least six foot-three or four, and his muscles had muscles. She prayed he hadn’t hit his head on the sidewalk. A concussion could be really bad if not treated.

  “You’re worried about a concussion now?” She scolded herself. “You’ve been drooling over the guy while his head is lying on the cold, hard sidewalk. Brilliant, Kyn, just brilliant.” Reaching for her satchel, she grabbed her old sorority sweatshirt from inside, wadded it up, and knelt forward to lift his head.

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nbsp; Her fingers tangled in his soft, brown hair. The scattered shards of light made it look like melted chocolate flowing over her skin.

  Would it shine in the sun or maybe have highlights? Some lighter brown mixed with red, even a few blond streaks woven throughout?

  The silky softness of his tresses turned to something wet and sticky.

  Blood!

  Kyndel gulped. Panic seized the breath in her lungs as the true severity of the situation smacked her in the face. She fought to keep her calm. Now, there was absolutely no denying he needed medical attention. Reaching into her bag and cursing herself for not thinking of it sooner, she dug around for her cellphone.

  Coming up empty-handed, she instantly remembered plugging it into her car charger the night before, not giving it the slightest thought until that moment. Cursing and threatening death to anyone in the immediate vicinity, she sat back on her heels and thought.

  All I know to do is run down the street for help.

  Looking at the fallen man, then in the direction of the Mini Mart, she reasoned he’d probably be okay. She’d be gone five minutes… tops. Run in, use the phone, run back. It all seemed very logical, but fear something would happen to him in her absence kept her in place.

  This guy was important to her. That alone had all her red flags flying and bells and whistles screaming in her brain. She tried to push her feelings aside and look at the situation with logic, but that was like holding back a freight train with her pinky finger… not gonna happen. Besides, her granny would most definitely haunt her and probably kick her butt if she turned her back on someone who needed help.

  “No one’s gonna mess with this behemoth, even if he is unconscious,” she reassured herself. “He probably doesn’t have a wallet to steal anyway.”

  Should she dig in his pockets to try to find one? Some kind of ID?

  Nah.

  She wasn’t keen on trying to explain her hand in his pants if he woke up. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of touching him again.

  “What are you doing out at night in just a pair of jeans and bare feet, anyway?” she asked the unconscious man. “Guess it doesn’t matter. You need help, whether you’re dressed properly or not.”

  Hooking her satchel over her shoulder, Kyndel stood and took one last look at her ‘patient’. Before she had barely moved an inch, a huge, warm hand latched onto her bare ankle.

  “What the hell?” she screamed, trying to pull her leg free while looking down to see what new fresh hell had befallen her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  There was no bloody way he could let her get away. No matter how much his body needed to shut down and heal. He had to keep her safe… had to keep her with him. The mating call and the beast within demanded nothing less.

  They’d both suffered a near heart attack when they saw the thug following her. There was no doubt he would’ve hurt her… or worse. Rayne thanked his dragon again for demanding they fly over the city. Heavily populated areas were usually patrolled from the outskirts to avoid detection by the humans. However, on this night, a compulsion that simply would not be denied had pulled him to the park… and to the beautiful redhead.

  Over the last few weeks, every flight had been a battle. His dragon demanding they fly over the city, the man determined to stay to the fringes as they always had. The beast pushed. The man pushed back. The scent of ‘prey’ lingering in both their souls.

  No matter how vehemently Rayne begged, cajoled, and fought… his dragon persisted. The battle of wills grew in intensity every night. It became tedious. It drained all his strength. It made him restless to want to know what his dragon knew that he did not. When they took to the skies just a few minutes past nightfall on this night, Rayne relented. Finally doing as his dragon demanded.

  The closer they came to the city, the stronger Rayne felt his need to find the mystical something that eluded him. The Guardsman fought hard, trying to slow his dragon down until he could figure out exactly what they were looking for, but the beast would have none of the man’s procrastination. He was single-minded in his determination. The discord between the two entities that shared a soul was something that hadn’t happened since Rayne’s week of transformation, over a hundred years ago. Since the man’s late teens, the two had been in perfect agreement… mighty warriors in sync, sharing the same space, slaying their enemies, no matter how fierce.

  Integrating the man and his dragon was one the most important milestones in a dragon shifter’s life. Between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, the conversion began. Man and beast became one and at its conclusion, the dragon would be able to be called forth when needed.

  It happened quickly… only a matter of days. The beast became a completely sentient part of the man. Almost immediately, they learned to share the same space, the same thoughts… the same soul. The dragon was awake and ready to do what he was created for… protect and defend. The young man was ready to become the warrior he was destined to be. The human embraced the awakening of his dragon, the elusive being he’d known was there… just out of reach.

  In Rayne’s case, his alter ego was an incredibly regal, thousand-pound dragon with red and golden scales. His wingspan stretched far and wide. His roughly ridged brow and spines running down his thick-corded neck were silent reminders of the dragon’s prowess in battle, and the scent of fire and ash reminded all that he could breathe fire. Defending his clan with unending loyalty was his prime objective, and one he took seriously. The Universe knew what She was doing. This was their destiny… a Fate that would not be denied.

  The human of this duo had been born with a mark, a brand of sorts that resembled a tattoo on his body. Slowly growing, taking shape, and becoming more defined as Rayne grew into manhood, it covered most of his back. This badge of honor laid flat for all to see, unless he experienced extreme emotions or the dragon was being called forth.

  Only one other time would these beings experience such a profound change, their true completion—the discovery of their mate. The one person the Universe designed just for them. This woman will become the final and most integral part of the union between man and beast. She completes the connection… makes them whole, gives them love, acceptance, and peace. Without her, true balance would be unachievable.

  Stories passed down from generation to generation tell of the dragon sensing their fated mate before the man even knew of her existence. The stories tell of a love so strong it fills both to near bursting.

  One of Rayne’s oldest friends teased him as they left that night. “I bet your woman’s out there and your dragon knows. Better get on it, Commander.”

  It had been all Rayne could do not to punch Lance, the jokester of his Force, especially when he laughed aloud as he walked away.

  Once the idea had been planted, it was hard to forget, but Rayne refused to believe one woman could be the cause of all the discord he and his dragon were experiencing. It just wasn’t possible.

  Rayne was incredibly observant. One of the best strategists and trackers in the history of their kin. It was inconceivable something so monumental could escape his attention. If the other part of his soul was anywhere nearby, he would know.

  Division of his focus and concentration, at his age and with his responsibility, was simply unacceptable. He felt like an unsure teenager again. Not something any man should experience, especially at a hundred and nineteen years old.

  Of course, he felt a little stupid at how wrong he’d truly been and knew his dragon would make him pay for his insolence—one way or another—but…

  Now… finally…

  His dreams made sense.

  He’d repeatedly been visited by a tall, curvy redhead, with the most expressive emerald eyes he had ever seen. The wonderfully erotic fantasies had become so addictive, he’d actually started to count the hours until he could sleep again. In his dreams, she smelled of flowers in the meadow after a spring rain, fresh and clean. The nearly perfect scent called him—completed him. It felt like home.

 
; It had gotten so real, he could feel her hands on his chest, discovering his skin. His mouth watered as he remembered how perfectly they fit together. How the taste of her lips lingered long after her kiss. How artfully she teased him until they were both in a frenzy of want and need.

  No matter how long he dreamed, Rayne always awoke craving the feel of her skin under his hands. He longed to feel her sweet breath on his neck as he teased her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He awoke every morning with the taste of her nectar in his mouth and his cock begging for release. The power and reality of his visions made him doubt his sanity.

  So when the tantalizing scent from his dreams filled his senses as he flew over the city, he’d almost fallen from the sky. The powerful fragrance overrode all the pollution of the city and grabbed hold of him as he’d glided overhead.

  Cautious to remain unseen, Rayne circled closer and closer, zeroing in on his target, using scant bits of his dragon magic to provide cover. At first, he spotted only a man working hard to stay hidden by the shadows. On further inspection, the focus of the thug’s attention became evident. The criminal followed her… the woman from his dreams.

  Anger, violence, and a blind rage he’d never before experienced filled both man and beast. His vision narrowed to a single point… the stalker intending to harm their woman. The man’s scent was pungent, a horrible mixture of aggression, anger, and filth.

  All caution thrown to the wind, neither man nor dragon cared where they were or who saw them. All that mattered was the well-being of the woman that haunted their every thought. The dragon dove from the sky. Rayne shifted back to human form as he descended, hitting the ground on silent feet. In one fluid motion, he launched himself onto the would-be attacker and snapped his neck.

  Hiding the body in the shadows, he quickly stepped into the light, looking for his mate. Searing pain tore through his back. The whoosh of an arrow sped past his ear, bouncing off the brick wall behind him, alerting him to the presence of hunters— dragon kin’s deadliest enemies. Rayne cursed his inattention. So focused on saving the woman, he hadn’t scented the area for other dangers, and now he was paying the price. Another arrow grazed his upper arm, the sting of silver burning all the way to his fingertips.