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

by Mina Carter

  His only mission was to destroy the Dragon Guard. Andrew would not let all he’d suffered be in vain. He would destroy them all. Watch their blood stain the ground beneath his feet. But first, he would settle his score with the hunters. The young wizard had shared that the hunters had been instrumental in his capture. Now, they must pay.

  Aaron yanked him up by his arms, nearly dislocating his shoulders and shaking him from his memories.

  “You’ll ride back to the lair with me. I’ll carry you in my paw. You try anything stupid and I promise I’ll run you through with my talon. No one would hold it against me. You’re a pitiful waste of space. Had Rayne not ordered you taken before the Tribunal, I’d end you right here, right now.”

  “Sorry to be a disappointment to the family, brother,” Andrew sneered, looking his brother in the eye.

  “Don’t push your luck, asshole, and do not ever refer to me as your brother again. What you suffered was tragic, but what you did after is unconscionable. You could’ve come home. We would’ve helped you heal. Instead, you chose revenge, and now it will be the death of you.”

  With no warning except the feel of magic in the air, Aaron called forth his dragon and grabbed Andrew. It took a moment for the traitor to get his bearings. It had been a long time since he’d been near a dragon and that much pure magic. Aaron tipped his head to Aidan and in an instant, there were two silver dragons looking out over the ledge, preparing to return him to their clan to die.

  With a single flap of his wings, Aaron was airborne. Andrew watched Aidan rise into the air just seconds after them. Andrew could feel both his brothers flying on autopilot… lost in thought. He sat waiting for the opportune moment to make his move. There was no way he was going without a fight.

  As they passed below an especially dense cloud, Andrew pulled out a piece of silver he had hidden in his pocket and jammed it between Aaron’s toes. Instinctively, his brother’s paw flew open and Andrew found himself falling to the ground.

  Aaron and Aidan turned, diving to try to catch him.

  Aidan reached him first, swooping underneath his falling body, trying to force Andrew to land safely on his back… but the traitor would have none of it. Andrew straightened and twisted his body any way he could to avoid Aidan’s back.

  Always the hero, Aaron came to help. Andrew had to work hard to miss both huge beasts. His only hope of escape was to make it to the ground before them. Aidan extended his wing as far as he could. Andrew twisted away, looking up just in time to see Aaron, who was heading straight for the side of a mountain, have to pull up and make a U-turn.

  Aidan was still following him, obviously willing to plummet to his death at the bottom of the canyon instead of letting Andrew get away. The only thing he could think of was to magically freeze him in midair. It would wear off before he hit the rocks, but would allow Andrew the time he needed to get away, once they were on the ground.

  Andrew landed without incident, another byproduct of his bastardized magic. He watched Aidan hit the ground as a dragon, shake off the residual black magic, and immediately change to human form. The younger of the twins was disoriented and more than a little pissed from the look of it. Aaron landed beside him, having changed to human form on his descent.

  The traitor hid behind a large group of rocks not more than two hundred yards from where his brothers stood. It had taken a huge amount of his magical stores to freeze Aidan in flight for only those few seconds. He may be sleeker than most in his dragon form, but he still weighed close to a half ton, and that was a lot of dragon to hold still. So there Andrew stood, not far from the idiots, enjoying that he had gotten the best of them.

  The great Dragon Guard, what a joke.

  He’d tried to get farther away, but just didn’t have the magical juice to make it happen. No matter. Aidan and Aaron were too stupid to look farther than their noses. Andrew had learned to mask his scent. He had many newly developed talents, and the black magic to do whatever his dragon magic could not.

  Andrew heard them talking about the preparations they would need to make to capture and keep him. How they would need to see the Elders as soon as they returned to the lair to prepare for the Tribunal. They talked at length while Andrew hid and listened.

  The dragons were right to prepare for what he had planned. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about his revenge. No matter how long it took or how many attempts, he would get those bastards. They should fear him. He was so much more than they could imagine, and he was going to make them pay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  It’d been almost two full days since Rayne returned to the lair, his bleeding mate in his arms. He‘d transformed back to a man and kept a hold of Kyndel all while landing, an entirely new experience he never wanted to repeat. Thankfully, his dragon had controlled the process, even brought them down right outside the Healer’s home.

  All during their flight he prayed for the healing powers Kyndel possessed to do their job. He’d felt them for himself when he was injured, but knew she was unaware of her power. Rayne prayed for instinct and self-preservation to take over and help his mate when she needed it the most.

  The Elder Healer, Siobhan, worked diligently to clean and stitch Kyndel’s wounds. Rayne cringed as Siobhan shaved a small patch of Kyndel’s hair. Not that his mate seemed the least high maintenance, it was just that in his limited experience, females tended to be protective of their hair. He feared she might skin him alive for the little bald spot at the back of her head. Siobhan assured him it was necessary. Kyndel was still one hundred percent human, therefore, the Healer would be staying as close to human medical practices as possible, and that meant doing everything by the book, no short cuts. All anyone cared about was Kyndel’s recovery, and for that, he would be eternally grateful.

  Siobhan reassured him Kyndel was healing just as expected, maybe even a little ahead of schedule. He felt it too from the hours he sat by her bed, holding her hand, and talking to her. He’d even gotten feelings of warmth and security through their mating bond. It made her continued unconsciousness a tad more bearable, but he needed her to wake up. Willed her to open those beautiful emerald eyes, to look at him and give him a dose of her sass. He looked forward to her trying to intimidate him with that one eyebrow cocked and her hands on her hips.

  He wanted to pull her to him and kiss those pouty pink lips of hers until they were naked and wrapped around one another. Waiting was killing him. Watching her hour after hour lying there, looking small and helpless, was one of the worst things he had ever endured.

  She would wake up. She would recover. His mate was fearless. She had to be ok. He would wither and die without her. Andrew had been right about one thing, if he’d killed her on that rock, Rayne would’ve lost his mind. He would hunt that son of a bitch down and rip him limb from limb as soon as all was well with his mate.

  He looked over his shoulder as Lance entered Kyndel’s room and asked, “How’s she doing?”

  “Still the same. Siobhan was here an hour ago. Said Kyndel is improving, but dammit, I need her to wake up.”

  “She will.” Lance moved to the end of her bed. “You have to give her body time to heal. She’s so much more fragile than we are. But she’s a fighter, you know that. A little bump on the head isn’t going to keep your mate down. She’s got fire and spunk. She’s your ‘Spitfire’ after all.”

  Rayne smiled at the use of the nickname his men had decided on during one of their visits to bring him food and keep him company while he sat vigil. Royce had said her hair looked even more like fire against the white sheets she laid on than when he’d met her. Aidan had squeezed his shoulder and said, “You have quite the little spitfire on your hands there, Commander.” It was good to see the old Aidan creeping back into his friend. They would need him at his best to capture his crazy brother.

  They’d all laughed and the nickname had stuck. One or all of them came by almost every hour. They would stand by the bed telling her silly stories about his youth, always
referring to her as “Spitfire”. It was a guarantee she’d be looking to strangle more than a few Guardsmen when she woke up. Not that he cared, he just wanted her back.

  Lost in thought, he almost missed what Lance was saying. “Hey bud, why don’t you take a walk… get some fresh air. You’re going to need to be ready when she’s up and about,” he chuckled. “Take a few minutes. I’ll sit here with her. I promise to call if she wakes.”

  “I just hate to be away from her. I’m not ashamed to admit that she’s my everything. If she doesn’t recover, I’ll cease to exist.”

  “Rayne, get your head out of your ass. She’s gonna be fine,” the Guardsman scoffed. “Get outta here for a minute. Get your head straight. You’re turning into a whiner.” He winked, easing the sting of the truth, but forged ahead, letting Rayne know he needed to get it together. “She needs the Commander, not whoever you are right now. Now go.”

  Rayne stared at Kyndel for just a moment longer. “You’re right. I’m beat. I know better than to let the worry get the best of me. A walk will at least keep my butt from growing to the chair.”

  He stood, laughing off his earlier fear, rubbed Kyndel’s leg, and turned to go. “I will only be a minute,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Take as long as you need. I’ll only tell her a few of your dirty little secrets.” Lance laughed aloud.

  Rayne growled at his friend, thanking the Universe Kyndel couldn’t hear whatever tales Lance was going to share.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Kyndel felt like she was floating. Getting the best night’s sleep she’d had in years, probably since she was a little girl.

  She loved the old two-story house she’d grown up in. It was huge. She had a bedroom and a playroom for all her toys, especially the dollhouse she and her dad built together.

  One of her favorite things was working in his shed with him. He would pretend to glue little pieces of wood to his hands, then touch his face, and dance around, yelling for her to pull it off. When she reached to pull his fingers from his face, he would grab her around the waist and swing her in circles. They both laughed until tears ran down their faces. Painting was even better. He smeared paint on her arm, then acted like it was an accident. She got him back when she painted his cheeks and nose red. He looked just like the Raggedy Andy doll her cousin, Lucy, had.

  That old house had a big kitchen, too. Her mom loved to cook and bake, especially for the holidays. Kyndel always got to help. She would roll out the dough, ice the cookies, and put sprinkles on the cakes. It was the best, and only got better. Right before her sixth birthday, her mom let her flip the pancakes on the griddle. A few had hit the floor, but her mom had laughed and said, ‘accidents happen’. Kyndel could still close her eyes and smell momma’s pot roast, just like when they were coming through the door from Sunday school.

  Her childhood had been great and she was a pretty good kid, too. Her parents only had to punish her once, and even then, she would swear her dad was biting the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing. She’d knocked Amy Jo right off the merry-go-round for making fun of her on the playground. The little brat said Kyndel had chipmunk cheeks. The boys had laughed and the girls looked away, like they were embarrassed for her.

  Every time Amy Jo passed Kyndel, she made a little “squeak squeak” sound and blew her cheeks up like they were packed with nuts. On the fourth trip, Kyndel lost her cool. She grabbed the handle, dug her feet into the dirt, and stopped the merry-go-round, with Amy Jo right in front of her. The horrible little girl made the stupid face and “squeaked” one more time, so Kyndel hit her right in the shoulder. Amy Jo fell in the dirt and cried like a baby.

  Of course, stupid Miss Kidmore saw it and took Kyndel to the principal’s office, who called her parents. Dad came to the school. That’s how it was in her small town. Everybody knew everybody. Parents came right to the school when there was a problem. You couldn’t get away with anything.

  She had to write sentences… two hundred of them. Her dad scolded her with a twinkle in his eye. He assured the principal Kyndel would complete her punishment and they headed home. It was horrible to say, but even all these years later, it had been worth it. Amy Jo never teased her again. Then again, she was only at that school for a few more months. Her mom and dad were killed and her whole world changed. She went to live with Granny.

  The first day at a new school had been scary. Granny told her to hold her head up, put her shoulders back, and look those new kids right in the eye. Everyone knew Granny and most thought she was a little batty, so Kyndel was left alone. Truth be told, the old lady did have a unique perspective on the world. It didn’t matter, she took good care of Kyndel, raising her and loving her the best way she knew how. Granny wasn’t as affectionate as her parents. She was rough around the edges and had an opinion about everything, but she taught Kyndel about plants and herbs, making sure her only granddaughter knew how to help people. The old lady had the respect of the people she helped, the ones that couldn’t afford a trip to the doctor.

  Granny had been front and center when Kyndel graduated with honors from high school, then again from college. The old lady even wore a dress and didn’t have her old straw hat on her head. She told Kyndel how proud of her she was and to never forget where she came from.

  Kyndel could hear it as if Granny was right there talking, “Kyndel girl, I always knew you were destined for big things. Our little country town can’t hold you. Spread your wings, girl. I’m proud of you. Love you, girl.”

  That was pretty much the same thing her grandmother said to her the last time they spoke. Kyndel was planning to go for a visit. She went home every four months for a long weekend. Granny wouldn’t admit it, but she was getting older and needed more help. The silly woman still kept a half-acre garden and another half-acre of flowers and herbs at ninety-two years old. She would tell the boys that came to help they needed to be doing their schoolwork instead, fix them a sandwich, and send them on their way.

  When Kyndel got there that weekend, Granny’s color was off. Her normally ruddy complex was sallow. She seemed to take just a little bit longer than usual to answer. Weirder still, Granny let Kyndel cook dinner. They sat and reminisced, even talked a little about her parents, which never happened. Her grandmother told her again how proud she was of her and how much she loved her.

  The next morning, Kyndel got up and was surprised not to smell coffee brewing. She figured Granny had gotten distracted or someone had come for help, so she started the pot and went to see where her grandma could be. As Kyndel walked past her room, she saw the old woman still in bed at nine ‘o’clock. Granny was up with the chickens. She never slept in. Kyndel went in to wake her and just knew she was gone. Granny had died as she had lived… on her own terms.

  The matriarch was buried in the family plot at the same little country church, with all of the Mastersons. Kyndel had packed up all the old woman’s things she wanted to keep. Then let the ladies of the community come get whatever they could use for people in need, just as Granny had always said she wanted it handled. Kyndel made sure she had all of her grandmother’s recipes and formulas packed away. If she had been told once, she had been told a hundred times, “Kyndel, girl, when I leave this earth, you don’t let anyone get their hands on my recipes and formulas. They belong to the Mastersons and that’s where they will stay. I’ll come back to swat your behind if you let them busy bodies get ‘em, girlie.”

  Kyndel kept floating, thinking about everything and nothing at all. She experienced memories of good days and bad days. How she met Grace. How they were still friends all these years later, even though Grace couldn’t follow through on anything, ever. First dates, bad dates, parties, awards, it was like the highlight reel of her life.

  Right on cue, Rayne was with her. Piercing violet eyes that saw everything. Aristocratic nose that crinkled when he was grinning or trying to keep from laughing. His soft, perfectly shaped lips that could bark orders or give the most amazing pleasure i
maginable. His square jaw that was always covered with just a hint of stubble that tickled and raised goose bumps when it rubbed her skin. He was every woman’s dream lover, but he wanted her. God only knew why, but the poor guy believed the Universe had made her for him. He had no problems with her extra pounds and more than ample curves. As a matter of fact, he’d threatened her health, or at least her ability to sit down comfortably, if she lost any weight.

  How he had just happened into her life was nothing short of miraculous. Like it was supposed to happen. She could remember the times before he was part of her world, but those ceased to matter. It seemed as if everything that had ever happened in her life had been working to bring her to this place in this time to this man.

  She had none of the self-conscious feelings she usually got from meeting someone new none of the fears that if she trusted too much, he would leave her. Her heart and soul trusted him and good Lordy did her body want him every minute of every day.

  Weird things just got weirder, but she still didn’t freak out, even when he said he could change into a dragon. She’d accepted it as the truth. Granny always said trust your gut, and her gut said he was the real deal. Even her bullshit meter had been completely quiet since meeting Rayne.

  Well, except for some guy with glowing mismatched eyes, but as soon as she reached for that memory, it was gone, replaced by thoughts of her mate. It was time to accept that whatever she felt for this man was real. But hadn’t she already done that? Her heart had. Kyndel knew she loved Rayne.

  Now, if she could just wake up and tell him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  He walked back in just in time to hear Lance telling Kyndel a story she really didn’t need to hear…

  Rayne was bathing in a stream by their campsite, enjoying the first time in ten days he wasn’t covered in dirt, blood, and gore. A bear snuck into camp in search of food. His clothes were hanging from the tree, but when the huge brown bear walked under the limb, said clothing fell onto his big furry back. Rayne ran almost a mile, completely naked, until the bear dropped his clothes before heading back into the forest.