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

by Mina Carter

  "What the hell's that?" Zach asked, his sai clenched in his fist. "Do we kill it?"

  "I have no idea." Ryland shifted her behind him, setting her down on the dirt. "I've never seen it before." He called out his other machete and stood ready. The three warriors were armed, waiting to see what was coming next to keep them from the goal that was so close.

  * * *

  Ryland was viscerally aware of Catherine behind him as the smoke enveloped the opening of the entrance to the nether-realm. He knew that threats could also be coming from behind them at any time. He couldn't protect her from all sides. They had to keep going. They couldn't stand there.

  But shit. He had no idea what the hell was in front of them.

  His chest was burning, like a hot poker was being dragged across his flesh. It wasn't good. Wasn't good at all, but they couldn't go backwards. There was no safe path—

  "Holy crap," Zach breathed. "It's men."

  As he spoke, the smoke cleared, revealing five massive warriors blocking the entrance. All of them were wearing black cloaks with hoods that covered their faces. Their chests were bare, streaked with intricate black markings Ryland didn't recognize, their legs clad in the black fur of a dreisen tiger, one of the beasts of the underworld. Their calves and feet were bare, as if they were connecting with the very earth itself.

  Their arms were folded across their chests, feet braced wide in a battle position. Visible in the dim light filtering from the sun were thick, black brands on their forearms. Brands that looked all too familiar.

  "They're Calydons," Catherine whispered in awe.

  Yeah, they were Calydons, but they weren't ordinary ones. There was no mistaking the enormity of power emanating from them. It was a deep, penetrating force that, to his knowledge, belonged to only nine warriors.

  "Not just Calydons," Zach said. "They're Order of the Blade."

  "Impossible," Thano said, while Apollo shifted restlessly. "We're the only ones left."

  But apparently, they weren't.

  Friend or foe?

  As Ryland heard a low rumble behind him, signaling the approach of a nether-realm creature he didn't want to deal with, he knew it was time to find out.

  * * *

  Ryland didn't lower his machetes as he spoke aloud to the five warriors guarding the entrance. "We need to access the nether-realm," he announced, not bothering to introduce himself. The warriors before him would recognize his team as Order just as easily as he had identified them.

  The warrior in the center took a step forward, distancing himself from the others. His face was shrouded by the hood, but Ryland felt his eyes burning down on them. You are Order. The voice was deep and hostile, flooding Ryland's mind without invitation.

  As are you, he replied, thrusting his own thoughts with equal force. Even as he spoke, he reached behind him and took Catherine's wrist. He pulled her tight behind him, making it clear to the cloaked men that she was under his protection. Thankfully, she did not resist.

  You should not exist, the warrior said.

  I was thinking the same thing, Ryland replied. He touched the minds of his teammates, channeling his telepathy away from the cloaked Calydon. Be ready for them to strike. I don't trust casual conversation.

  Thano and Zach acknowledged his warning, and he felt their readiness. Three against five were usually easy odds for the Order, but the men before them carried the same power they did. Grant us passage, Ryland said. We are not here to harm.

  Because you are Order, we grant you freedom to leave, the cloaked warrior said. Leave now, warriors.

  Ryland swore under his breath. Our leader is trapped in the nether-realm. We will not abandon him. If these men were truly Order, that would be all the explanation they would need to step back and allow Ryland and the others to pass—

  There was a boom that shook the very earth, and the night flashed with an explosion so bright that it blinded Ryland for a split second. The power that rushed him was too familiar, and he swore, knowing that the cloaked warriors had just called out their weapons. "They're coming for us!"

  Still blinded by the light, Ryland channeled his preternatural senses, focusing on the ripple of energy around him to track his assailants. He swung hard with his machete, and a sword crashed into his blade as his vision returned in time to see two warriors closing in on him. "Shit!" He barely sidestepped another blow, and then they were on them, fighting with brutal force. They were effortless in their movements, so graceful it was as if they weren't even truly human. As they fought, their black cloaks never budged, still hiding their faces, making it feel like he was being attacked by the grim reaper itself.

  "Catherine," he yelled. "Get to the entrance!"

  "Okay!" She didn't hesitate, and she raced past him, darting across the open area as the warriors engaged his team, clearly trusting him and his team to protect her as she ran. There was a roar of fury as the one Ryland was fighting noticed her. The male broke contact to run her down.

  "You guys go in there!" Thano shouted as Apollo charged after the warrior pursuing Catherine, the massive beast gaining on him with surreal ease. "We'll hold them at the entrance!"

  I'll get her. Ryland broke from the battle, hauling ass across the field toward Catherine. The warrior was bearing down on her, his weapon raised to strike—

  "No!" Ryland hurled his machete, and it slammed into the back of the warrior...who didn't even flinch. He just slammed his sword toward Catherine, who looked over her shoulder at him.

  Her eyes widened, and she held up her arms to cover her face—and then Thano's halberd appeared in her hand with a crack and a flash of black light. Ryland stumbled in shock, stunned by the fact she'd called Thano's weapon, something only Thano's sheva could have done. The look on her face was equally shocked, and he felt Thano's surprise plow through his mind. For a split second, the battle seemed to stand still, and all Ryland could see was the weapon of his teammate in Catherine's hand.

  Then, still in full motion and unable to avert himself in time, the warrior impaled himself on the end of it, right in his heart. Gasping, he stumbled, but he was already reaching for the weapon to yank it free.

  Get her out of here! Thano shouted. Now!

  Thano's urgency split through Ryland's shock, and he lunged for Catherine. He grabbed her wrist, and yanked her to the side as the warrior lurched to his feet. "Come on!" he shouted at her as he scooped her up, racing for the entrance, the warrior hot on his tail.

  Fifty yards away.

  Forty yards.

  Wind whistled past his head, and he ducked as a sword side-swiped his shoulder, taking a chunk of flesh with it. Catherine hurled Thano's halberd again, and Ryland heard the thud of it hitting flesh.

  Son of a bitch. A Calydon's weapon would respond only to a Calydon and his mate. She'd thrown Thano's twice. Twice!

  "I got it covered!" Thano yelled. "Go!"

  Fighting to keep his focus, Ryland vaulted up the steps of the pyramid. The moment his foot touched the stone, a dark vibration began to hum through him, and his wrists and ankles began to burn, as if the cuffs were already taking form. Sweat poured down his back, and he stumbled to a stop on the threshold, staring into the depths he knew so well. "Jesus," he whispered numbly, as he stared down there. "I can't go in there. I can't do this." Numbly, he released Catherine, unable to even hold her in his arms. Memories assaulted him. The nights. The days. The deaths. The feeling of impotence, of being trapped, of having no control over what he did, over who he hurt—

  "Ryland!" Catherine grabbed his arms as she slid down his body, her feet landing on the stone. "Come on!"

  But he couldn't move. He couldn't take that step. He couldn't cross over into that hell. He couldn't go back.

  "Ryland—"

  His legs buckled, and he crashed to his knees, the hard stone smashing into his kneecaps. Bone on stone. Pain. Like before.

  "Ryland!" Catherine knelt before him, her face frantic. "We can't stay out here!"

  As she urge
d him to his feet, her voice like an angel's music in the darkness of his mind, he suddenly knew. This angel, this beautiful angel, was his light, and his ultimate, final darkness. "My dear, sweet Catherine." He lifted his hand, tracing it over her soft cheeks. "Your eyes are so blue," he whispered. "Just like hers. So much innocence in you. Just like her."

  "Her?" she echoed. "What are you talking about?"

  "Her. You. It's happening again." Catherine was the thing that would bring him down, that would return him to the hell he once lived. He understood that now. For hundreds of years, he'd kept himself clean of any emotional entanglements that could be used against him, and now Catherine was kneeling before him, a woman who had broken through his shields. On the threshold to doom, and his tormenters had given him back the one thing that would destroy him. "Run," he whispered. "Away from me. Away from this place. Your daughter isn't here. Dante isn't here. It must be a trick to trap us. It always is." He gripped her hair with sudden fierceness. "Run!" he shouted. "Run!"

  Catherine's eyes widened, that azure blue that seemed so out of place in this doomed world. "No," she said. "Never!" Then she surged to her feet, and sprinted over the threshold and into the darkness of hell.

  "No!" Ryland lunged for her, his voice an agonizing scream as he leapt to grab her, his fingers reaching for the back of her jacket. They brushed against it, and he seized the slick material triumphantly—

  It was too late.

  A vortex of wind swept up, jerking him off his feet and hurtling him into the darkness.

  They'd crossed the threshold. There was no going back.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE WIND SPUN Catherine ruthlessly, thrusting her into the darkness, tumbling her head-over-heels into a bottomless tunnel of blackness. She couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything except the ice cold wind slashing at her skin, and the hard grip of Ryland's fist on the back of her jacket. Then even he was yanked away, and she was tumbling wildly, out of control, completely at the mercy of the vortex that had swept her up—

  She crashed to the hard ground, as if the cursed maelstrom had spit her out ruthlessly. Pain throbbed through her as she lay on the hard stone, the breath pummeled from her lungs, her body aching from being ruthlessly twisted and yanked.

  It was too dark to see anything, and the silence was almost overwhelming, so loud that it seemed to hammer at her eardrums and slam at her head. Where was she? What was coming for her? She struggled to her knees, rebelling against the protests of her body. There was no time to be hurt. No time to cry—

  A loud thump echoed beside her, and the ground she was on shuddered from the force of the impact. She jumped, whirling around as she strained to see through the impenetrable darkness. Thano's halberd was no longer in her hand, and she felt naked and vulnerable, completely out of her depth—

  There was a loud scrambling, the sound of claws scraping rapidly on stone, and she scurried backwards. Heavy, raspy breathing bounced off the rocks, and then a crash, as if something had run right into a wall. Then more frenetic scrabbling, as if something were hurt and in danger—

  "Catherine." Ryland's hoarse voice echoed in the darkness. "Cat! Where are you? Cat!" His voice became more desperate, and she sat up, trying to pinpoint where he was coming from. "Ryland! I'm here! Where are you?"

  "Cat!" He was almost screaming her name, his voice echoing, repeating his desperate call with an eerie frenetic energy.

  "Ryland!" She scrambled to her feet and started running blindly in his direction, her hands extended in front her—

  Something grabbed her ankle, and she screamed as she was yanked backwards. But it was Ryland's hard body that she landed on, and relief rushed through her. "Ry—"

  He crushed her mouth in a kiss, a merciless assault that stripped her words and her breath. He yanked her beneath him, flooding her senses with kisses. His body was shaking violently, and his shirt was drenched with sweat. His breath was harsh, shuddering gasps, as if he couldn't even get oxygen. His lips were cold on hers, his kisses almost clumsy in their desperation. His hands kept slipping over her hips as he tried to hold her still, as if he couldn't even summon enough control over his body to hold her.

  "It's okay, Ryland—" Again, she couldn't even finish her words, as he took her with another frantic kiss. His need for her was so frenzied and insane, that her heart broke for this big, strong man who was crumbling in her arms, asking her for strength, for help.

  Tears filled her eyes for him, for his suffering. The shields she'd erected around herself seemed to crack in the face of his vulnerability. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, kissing him back, offering all she had. I'm here, Ryland. It's okay. You're safe.

  He didn't respond, but his kisses grew in crazed energy, and she knew he hadn't heard her. Frustration rolled through her. After the intimacy of the telepathic communication with Thano, it felt so right to expect that with Ryland, but there was no connection between them, at least not on a mental level.

  But beneath his hands and his kiss, under his body, she felt herself come alive in response to his assault. It was more than desire and lust arising within her. It was the deepest need of her soul coming to life. An awakening for this man.

  She knew it was dangerous to let herself succumb to him, but it didn't seem to matter. There was no way to resist how he called to her, how she wanted to respond. When he yanked up her shirt and took her breast in his mouth, she gasped and arched her back, unable to do anything but offer herself to the man falling apart in her arms.

  With a low growl, Ryland bit her nipple, and she gasped as hot waves of desire rushed through her. The same level of urgency that seemed to consume him flared to life inside her, driving her into his embrace and his kiss. The moment transformed instantly, from a one-sided desperate attempt at salvation, to two people burning with need so hot it seared their veins as they surrendered themselves to the passion exploding between them.

  His hands were suddenly on her breasts, his mouth on her belly, his body burning with heat. Catherine couldn't get enough of his skin. She kept running her hands repeatedly over his bare chest, his chiseled stomach, and his hips.

  "More," Ryland whispered. "More."

  "More," she agreed, catching her breath as he tore her jacket off and tossed her shirt aside, along with her bra. Cold air assaulted her as he descended on her, but the heat of his body ignited warmth that chased away the chills and sent intense waves of passion ricocheting through her.

  The feel of his bare chest against hers was intoxicating, almost overwhelming her senses. So much flesh, so much life, so much intense connection. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscle as he kissed his way down her body again. Not a kiss of an intentional, planned seduction. It was a wild assault on her senses, a primal claiming of her body.

  When he reached her jeans, there was no hesitation as he tore open the button and zipper. His mouth closed on her body even as he yanked her jeans over her hips, and she gasped at the invasion, barely aware of her pants sliding over her calves. Then they were gone, and he pulled back long enough to ditch his clothes. Then he was back between her thighs, kissing and touching, his body gloriously naked between her legs.

  It was so dark, she still couldn't see him. All her senses were attuned to his touch, to the heat of his skin as she locked her legs around his shoulders, as his hands dug into her hips, holding her at his mercy while he teased her core with his mouth. He had her trapped, exactly as he had with the vine, but this time it wasn't scary. It was an incredible, indescribable moment of perfection and safety, of passion and fire, of the formation of a bond between a man and a woman that could never be severed.

  "I need you," he rasped as he lurched upward and caught her mouth in a kiss so urgent it was almost violent.

  He didn't wait for an answer. He simply inserted his knee between hers and moved her thighs apart. Catherine inhaled sharply, knowing what was next. Her body tensed in anticipation, aching for his invasion, de
sperate for him to finish what he'd begun and to bind them together forever.

  "Cat," he whispered as he moved his hips, pressing against her entrance. He slid his hand beneath her head, cradling her from the hard rock beneath them. "Now."

  "Now," she whispered.

  He thrust deep, so deep that her body seemed to come apart in his arms as it accepted him completely, shifting and morphing to accommodate him. He went still, holding his position deep inside her, his breath coming in violent rasps. His body was still trembling, his back was slick with fresh sweat, but as their bodies adjusted to each other, Catherine felt a tremendous shudder echo through his body.

  "My dear angel," he whispered into her mouth. "You're the salvation for my soul."

  The depth of his reverence brought tears to her eyes, but a part of her heart ached for what he hadn't said. "I don't want to be your angel right now," she said. "Just your woman."

  He kissed her again, so deeply it seemed to go right to her soul that was crying out for more. She needed to hear him say her name, to have him acknowledge that the respite he was seeking from her wasn't simply because he needed an angel, any angel. She wanted to hear her name on his lips, to know that he was with her, and her alone.

  But he said nothing as he began to move his hips, sliding out of her with agonizing denial of what she wanted, and then thrusting deep, stirring her into a frenzy of sensual passion so intense that she stopped caring about him using her name. The name didn't matter, not when the connection between them was so intense that it was imprinting upon her very soul, cutting through the years of scarring and opening her heart in a way that should have terrified her. The strength of his arms, the passion of his kisses, and the electricity of their love-making were so powerful that there was no room for fear. Just complete and utter commitment to the bond between them.