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

by Mina Carter

  She looked at him, and he thought she was going to ask what would happen after that, when they were free. How would they stop the slide then?

  But she didn't ask. She simply nodded. "So, we go in tomorrow."

  "No." He stood up, then offered her his hand. "We wake the team and go now. There's no time to waste."

  And just as he expected, his fragile, pure, delicate angel took his hand and stood right up, completely ready to go into hell at his side.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Catherine stopped when Ryland held up his hand in a silent command for them to halt. Thano reined in Apollo. Zach went still, his sai clenched in his right hand as he scanned the sky. The two warriors had not questioned Ryland's decision to move fast when he woke them in the middle of the night, but she noticed that he had not explained about the dragon tattoo on his chest, and had given her a warning look when they'd asked why. Clearly, it was a secret that he wasn't sharing with them. Why had he told her about it? Why wasn't he telling his team? Too many questions, and no opportunity to find answers.

  As the party stopped, the dawn was just beginning to break, casting the cold mountains in a swath of gentle light that seemed to bleed hope through the sparse pine trees and rugged shrubs. And with that first breath of sunshine, the vine binding Catherine and Ryland together vanished, freeing them. They looked at each other, and Catherine felt an unexplainable sense of regret, and for a split second, she thought she saw the same on his face.

  Then he looked back at his team, taking several steps away from her, putting distance between them the first moment he could. She immediately folded her arms over her chest and raised her chin. How could she feel regret? She needed her space. She needed her freedom. She needed to be liberated to save her daughter when Ryland finally betrayed her, as she knew he would—

  Ryland grabbed her arm suddenly and yanked her back over to him. "You will not shut me out," he muttered to her. "Our very survival depends on us being a stronger team than what's threatening us. We stay together. Got it?"

  She gazed at him, and felt some of the tension in her chest ease. She nodded.

  He flashed her a brief grin, then turned back in the direction he'd been leading them. So far, they'd hugged the river, moving fast, and Catherine had labored to keep up.

  Traveling fast solo was one thing, but moving with the Order while they were on a mission was entirely different. They pushed at a relentless pace, with high demands for stealth. She was exhausted and drained, but so happy to see that the sky was cloudless, and they were going to be gifted with a day of bright sunshine.

  Ryland went down on one knee and sifted the dirt through his fingers. He then rested his forearm on his knee and looked ahead. After a moment, he called out his machete with a crack and a flash of black light. He wedged the tip in the ground and dragged it through the dirt, making a horizontal line in the earth about six inches in front of him. "This is the border," he said. "This is where the fabric between the nether-realm and the earth begins to thin. Creatures that belong in hell survive in this area, and creatures that belong on earth die."

  Apollo stomped his front foot and snorted, while Thano called out both of his halberds. "Excellent," he said. "I love a challenge."

  "How do we stop them?" Zach asked. "Saplings again?"

  "Depends on what it is," Ryland said. "Some of them, we just have to outrun."

  Zach raised an eyebrow. "Outrun to where?"

  Ryland flexed his hands, and Catherine could see the tension in his shoulders. "There's a waterfall near the entrance to the nether-realm," he said. "It's a remnant of the purity that once reigned here before the nether-realm leaked out. No harm can befall those who enter it. No harm can be done by those clothed in its purity."

  Thano patted his restless mount's neck. "So, that means, once we go in there, we can't defend ourselves against anything until we dry off? Nothing can hurt us, but we can't hurt anything else either?"

  Ryland glanced at him. "Yeah."

  "So, you're saying that we could dive in there and then all the bad guys will have to skid to a stop at the water's edge. Then they'll sit there doing their nails for the next thousand years, or whenever it is we finally decide to get out of the fountain, at which point they'll kill us, because all we'll be able to do is compliment them on their stylish good looks?"

  Ryland nodded. "Pretty much."

  "Well, that sounds like a great plan," Thano said. "Let's not even bother to fight. Let's run right there and jump in even if no one is chasing us."

  A grin played at the corners of Ryland's mouth, and Catherine saw some of the tension ease from his shoulders. She realized that Thano was good for him, a respite from the darkness, just as Alice had been for her. It was astonishing that the man who carried as much darkness as Ryland had allowed himself to bond with someone else, but it was clear he had. Sort of like a saber-toothed tiger befriending a bunny—

  Thano looked over at her. "A bunny? You think I'm like a bunny?"

  Catherine's heart dropped. "What?"

  "You said I'm like a bunny. I take offense to that, especially when you're comparing Ryland to a saber-toothed tiger."

  Ryland stood up sharply. "She didn't say that."

  Thano glanced at him. "Of course she did. I'm not deaf."

  "She didn't say that," Zach said.

  "I heard her," Thano said. He looked over at her. "The old guys are losing their hearing. Tell them you said it, sweetness, before they cart me off to an ENT doc for a look-see."

  Her heart was thudding. "I didn't say it," she said. "I thought it."

  Thano blinked. "What? Are you telepathic?"

  "No, of course not—"

  "Son of a bitch," Zach whispered in shock. "She's your sheva, Thano."

  "No!" With a roar of outrage, Ryland leapt in front of Catherine, inserting his body like a shield between her and Thano. "She's not your soul mate," he snarled, holding his machete out, ready to strike. Violence seemed to spew off him, filling the air with the dark taint of death and ruthless hate. "Impossible."

  Zach moved just as fast, moving beside Thano with his sai out and ready. "Stand down, Ryland. Don't do it."

  Thano held up his hands in surrender leaving his halberds balanced on his thighs. "Dude, I don't want her. She's yours."

  "Don't fucking touch her," Ryland snarled. His voice was raspy and rough, nothing like the way it usually sounded. Even as he spoke, he called out his other machete. The moment it appeared in his hand, Zach went into battle position, both of his sai ready.

  "Stand down, Ry," he said. "Thano's on your team."

  "Ry." Thano's voice was urgent. "You gotta pull it together, man. You're too close to the edge." His gaze flicked to Ryland's hand, and Catherine followed his glance.

  Silver scales were glittering on the backs of Ryland's hands, sliding beneath his skin like something was slithering beneath the surface. Oh, God. That wasn't good. "Wait!" She jumped in front of him, blocking his path, then froze when she saw his face. His eyes had changed into bottomless pits of blackness, seething with torment and hell. Dear God. He was starting to go over the edge. "Ryland! Stop it!"

  But he didn't even seem to see or hear her. He was fixated on Thano like some ancient predator, ready to destroy.

  "Um, yeah, you need to step up here, sweetheart," Thano said. "Tell the old man you love him or something like that."

  "Love him? But I don't—"

  "Tell him anyway!"

  "But—"

  "Listen, Catherine," Zach said, his voice low with urgency as he eyed Ryland. "Calydons can speak telepathically only with each other, and the one woman who is his soul mate. Unless you're the first female Calydon in existence, the only explanation for Thano hearing your thoughts is if you're his soul mate."

  Catherine stared in shock at the men. "There's no way," she said. There couldn't be. She felt nothing for Thano. There was no spark. No fire. Nothing like what had happened between her and Ryland—

  "There
's no other explanation," Zach said sharply. "And Ryland apparently isn't so happy about it, which is bizarre as hell because no man ever covets another's sheva¸ but he's a crazy bastard, so I guess the rules don't apply to him." There was no affectionate warmth in Zach's voice like there had been in Thano's, even when he'd been giving Ryland grief.

  Ryland was still fixated on Thano, and she could see his muscles straining with the effort of not going after his friend. The turbulence in his eyes was terrifying, and the air was roiling with black taint all around him. Her heart ached suddenly for this man who was suffering, who was being dragged into darkness by the creature he was. Suddenly, she wasn't afraid of him. She understood what he was facing. "Ryland," she whispered, rushing up to him.

  "Oh, shit, no, woman, don't do that," Zach said.

  She heard Thano's response. "No, let her be. This will work."

  Just as Catherine reached Ryland, he let out a furious roar and reared back with his machete— "No!" She threw her arms around him and her body slammed against his so hard that her breath oomphed out of her body. Ryland stiffened, but his left arm locked around her, anchoring her against him.

  His muscles were absolutely rigid, and his heart was beating so slowly it was as if he was almost dead. Just the precise, methodical thud of a man so ice cold that his heart barely beat. How human was he? Any at all?

  He jerked her behind him, tossing her to the ground and out of his way as he advanced on Thano. "You fucking bastard," he snarled. "You can't have her."

  Thano swore under his breath as he held his hands up higher. "I don't want her. I don't have her. She's not mine."

  "There's no other explanation," Ryland snapped.

  Zach raised his weapons, and Thano's hands twitched as he inched them toward his own weapons. Dear God, they were going to fight him. "Ryland!" she shouted. "Don't do this! I'm not his sheva!"

  But there was no response from him. Just the intentional, ominous approach toward the men who were his teammates, who were now shouting at him to stand down.

  She could see that Thano and Zach weren't going to strike until they had to, but Ryland had no intention of leaving them a choice. Catherine whirled around, struggling to find something to stop him, but there was nothing. Ryland! She threw the thought out in her mind, hoping that he would hear her, but he didn't even react. Clearly, she wasn't telepathically connected to him like she was with Thano.

  Disappointment rushed through her for a brief moment, but she shoved it aside, galvanized by the danger escalating between Ryland and his men. He was enraged by jealousy so extreme that it made no sense. Dammit. What would reach him? She knew him. Think, Catherine. Think! Dante. Dante would reach him. Dante was what mattered. A threat to Dante? He was already dead. A threat to her! She was his link to Dante! But what threat?

  She spun around and faced the border. Across that line he'd drawn in the sand lay danger. Danger to her. Danger he could protect her from? Please let me be right about this. She'd heard the truth in his repeated promise to protect her, to keep her safe. I hope you mean it, Ry. "Ryland," she shouted. "I don't have time for this. I'm going in!" She took a deep breath, and then sprinted over the boundary and into the land of hell.

  The moment her feet touched the ground on the other side of Ryland's demarcation, it felt like a deep sludge was coming out of the soil and wrapping around her ankles, as if she had stepped in quicksand. Within a millisecond, she was up to her knees in putrid swirls of gas and goop. She fought to get out, but it sucked her down further, wrapping around her hips, and then her waist. Oh, man. This wasn't good. "Ryland!" she screamed. "Help!"

  But he didn't turn around. He kept advancing on Thano, who was now looking at her with great concern. "Shit, man, we gotta help her!"

  Sharp pain hit her ankle, and she yelped. Then the same stabbing jab in the back of her calf. Then her knee. Something was biting her, or cutting her. Eating her alive? True panic began to assault her and she fought harder. "Ryland!" Okay, on her list of great ideas, this wasn't one of them, apparently. "Ryland, stop being a stupid macho male, for God's sake! I can't find Dante if I'm dead!"

  And then, with those magic words citing the fate of his mentor, Ryland seemed to break free of the spell he was under. He whirled toward her, then unleashed an animalistic howl of rage. He launched himself at her, sprinting across the ground as the goop sucked her further down, up to her armpits. "Catherine!" he bellowed as he ran toward her. "Get your arms up! Keep them free!"

  She dragged her arms up out of the muck, struggling to resist the instinct to fight the goop, to support herself as she sank further. Up to her chin now. Teeth dug into her belly. Her neck. Her breasts. Instinct screamed at her to bat them away, but she knew if she put her arms down, she'd have no way out. So she forced herself to be still, letting herself sink, letting herself be eaten, watching Ryland race toward her, her heart hammering with terror. The muck reached her lower lip and began to ooze into her mouth even as she turned her head, trying to find fresh air to breathe.

  He was still fifty yards away. He wasn't going to make it. Dear God. He wasn't going to make it.

  Chapter Nine

  RYLAND FELT HIS whole world close in as he saw Catherine sinking from sight. Rage consumed him, and terror unlike anything he'd ever felt exploded through him. He ran harder, driving all his strength into his movement, but he knew he wasn't going to get there. He wasn't going to make it.

  She met his gaze, and in those blue eyes, he saw fear, real fear, and he felt the sudden press of her energy against him. She was calling to him. Willing him to her. Without him, she would die. "No!" He bellowed his denial, but he knew it was too late. He would never reach her in time.

  Unless he became more than a man.

  He didn't hesitate, dropping his shields and tapping into the side of him that was brutally dangerous. Fierce pain tore through his body. Scales shredded his skin. Claws burst from his fingers. Fire rolled through his cells, but he fought to control it. Summoning intense willpower honed after centuries of practice, he channeled the energy into his shoulder blades, fighting to direct the emergence of the beast.

  With a great howl of agony, he forced the scaled wings to burst free from his shoulders. The massive appendages thrust him forward into the air, the wind rushing past him with violent force just as Catherine's head disappeared beneath the ground. All that were left were her fingers, and then they were gone.

  With a ruthless, lethal roar, he reached the pit and dove straight into it. His arms plunged beneath the surface, crashing right into Catherine. His claws locked around her wrists, and then with another burst from his wings, he ripped them both free of the sludge. Catherine dangling from his grasp, he whirled around, driving back toward the safe ground as fast as possible. He had to get back in time. He had to get out of the battle before it was too late to reclaim himself.

  He reached the earth outside the border and landed, crashing down as the beast began to rise within him. He released Catherine instantly, screaming in agony as the darkness raged within him. The shrieks of a thousand tortured souls arose in his head, hammering at his consciousness. He gripped his head as he thrashed on the earth, fighting to hold the onslaught back. Pain ripped through him as black slashes tore through his flesh, and his body bowed as his bones fought to transform.

  "Ryland," Catherine shouted. "What's happening?"

  He couldn't talk. Didn't dare open his mouth and allow the evil to escape. He had to defeat it. Had to bring it back. But it was too much. He'd allowed too much of it out. Dante! Help me! But there was no answer from his mentor, no soothing presence to help him.

  His body convulsed and his head arched back as a scream tore from his throat. A scream that wasn't his. A scream filled of all the darkness and evil of the beast he once was, the beast that always lived within him. He needed Dante. And he needed him now.

  There was no Dante.

  There was only the woman who could take his soul.

  It would have to be enoug
h.

  One of his ribs cracked, and he screamed again as he lurched onto his side. Catherine was only a few yards away, her face white. She was dripping with black mud, and her flesh was ravaged by the mites that had attacked her. Beside her stood Thano and Zach, both of them with expressions of absolute shock. He reached for Catherine, his clawed, deformed hand stretching toward her, asking for help in the only way he could. Her eyes widened as she realized what he wanted.

  "Shit no," Zach said, grabbing her arm. "Don't touch him."

  "Touch him," Thano urged. "Help him. She can help him. Do it, Catherine! Do it now!" Thano shoved Zach back, freeing Catherine. For a split second, she didn't move, and Ryland knew he had lost—

  Then she jumped up and ran toward him, her hand outstretched. Another rib broke, and he screamed in agony as his bones began to crack, preparing to morph—

  Then her hand went into his, and he felt the softness of her skin against his hard scales, like a great burst of light. Suddenly, he was back in that moment hundreds of years ago, when Dante had saved him, when he'd brought the angel to him. "Golden light," he gasped. "Give me your golden light."

  Her face paled. "I don't have golden light. I'm an angel of death!"

  Son of a bitch. No golden light. No easy out. Not this time. "Dante," he rasped out, as his pelvis shattered under the force of the evil breaking free. "Give me Dante. His soul."

  Understanding dawned on her face, and she immediately placed his hand on her chest, over her heart. She called him into her, and instantly, he felt like he was tumbling through a miasma of death and suffering. So much death. Shadows. Darkness. Cracks that seemed to be bottomless crevasses of suffering. But woven amongst it all was a spider web of a faint white glow, and he knew instantly it was Catherine's soul. Barely there, torn apart by terrible things, but hanging on. She took him in deeper, and he felt the presence of other spirits, of all those she had taken. There were holes everywhere in her disintegrating soul, and the presence of others lingered at the edge of those gashes, as if their death had taken a part of her with them, leaving behind only the shadows of their existence.