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

by Mina Carter

  "Love?" The question shocked him. "Why would I love her?"

  She blinked. "But you just said—"

  "Cat, look at me." He gestured to the beast painted on his chest, to the scars carved into his belly from damage that even an immortal could not heal. "I'm not about love. It's not even a part of who I am."

  She frowned. "Of course it is. Love is a part of everyone—"

  "Love is a fucking weakness to be exploited. I wouldn't allow it."

  Sadness flickered in her eyes, and she touched his cheek. "I know what you mean," she said softly. "I know exactly what you mean."

  He took her hand and held it against his cheek. "They found her," he said, his mind held relentlessly in the grip of that night. "They found out who she was, and they brought her to me. The water faeries are critical to the balance of the nether-realm, and they are never touched by the darkness. But Desdria and the Dark Lord broke the rule. They chained me up and—" Sweat broke out on his brow again, and he tightened his grip on Catherine's hand. "They hurt her, Cat. They hurt her in front of me. They tortured her again and again, telling me it was my fault, my fault, my fault for soiling her with my filth."

  Suddenly, he was back there again, in that night, the chains digging into his wrists and ankles as he fought to get free to save her. Blood everywhere. "Her screams, those god-awful screams begging for mercy, for me to save her, to make it end. I couldn't break the chains." He could still remember his wrists snapping under the assault, his ankles shattering as he tried to get out of his restraints, fighting so hard his own body gave way. "They carved out her heart, Cat, while she was alive. It broke me. I snapped." Jesus, how he'd snapped. "I called the beast, and I erupted."

  Her eyes widened. "You broke the chains?"

  "Yeah, yeah, but it was too late. I was too fucking late to save her." He would never forget the roar of anguish as he'd torn himself free of his shackles and fallen to the floor beside her, gathering her fragile body against his. "She died in my arms, her soul bleeding with anguish." He shook his head. "I didn't protect her. I failed her. And when she died, my humanity was gone. She was all that had kept me sane. There was nothing left, and I became the monster they wanted me to be."

  "Oh, Ryland." Catherine's blue eyes burned with empathy, not the condemnation he deserved.

  "No, no pity for me. I failed her. It's my fault." He dug his fingers into his left wrist, trying to pry off the cuffs he could still feel. "That night, they claimed me. The cuffs went on, symbols of my bondage to them. They owned my soul, they controlled the beast. I no longer existed as an individual."

  "What did they make you do?"

  His head began to pound, aching with memories that he'd kept hidden for so long. "I killed so many innocents. Again and again. I couldn't keep from doing it. I saw what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. My mind knew what was happening, and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do to stop it."

  His body began to shake. Never would the screams of the innocents he'd murdered stop ringing in his ears. Never would his hands be cleansed of their blood. Never would it stop haunting him that he'd failed to protect the innocent. "There's no way to describe what it's like to kill again and again, to be enslaved to monsters like that. I did their bidding, indulging their every whim." He held out his hands. "Do you see the blood on them, Cat? There's so much blood of innocents—"

  "No." She took his hands in hers, and folded them against her heart. "The blood is on their hands," she said. "Not yours."

  "No," he whispered. "You're wrong. It's mine," he said. "All mine. I was too weak to free myself. That's my fault. My weakness. My failure." He looked down at his chest and saw that the entire tail of the dragon was a purplish-turquoise now, and the cuff on the left ankle of the monster was gold. He swore and pressed his palm to his chest, a sheen of sweat making it shimmer as if it were alive. "They sent me out into the earthly-realm to slaughter Dante, but he called an angel, and he broke their hold on me." He closed her hands in his fists. "He gave me freedom, Cat. The greatest gift a man can have. Do you understand that?"

  She nodded, her blue gaze still as fearless as ever. "You're afraid of becoming enslaved again. Of losing your freedom."

  "Afraid?" He was a warrior, an immortal warrior assigned to the Order of the Blade. Men like him didn't become afraid. "Not afraid, Cat. Not afraid," he said. "Absolutely, fucking terrified."

  Catherine laid her hands on his cheeks. "We won't let that happen," she said. "If you get too close, we'll leave, okay?"

  As he stared into her face, into the face of the angel who had been sent into his life, he knew the truth. The deadly, dangerous truth. The horrifically surreal truth. "No, Cat, you don't get it." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're like Marie," he said. "Your innocence, the beauty of your soul, the softness of your touch, the way my body craves you." He slid his hands behind the base of her neck, holding her face before his.

  Her eyes stared into his, so wide, so brave, and so pure.

  "For you, I would fall once again," he explained. "You are the trap that was sent to reclaim me. You, my angel, are the key to the final destruction of my soul." He touched her face. "To save you, the beast would come, and they will know that, if they don't already. They will hunt you, take you, and then hurt you until I snap. Which I will."

  She paled. "Desdria and the Dark Lord are still here?"

  "They're immortal. They'll always be here." He looked past her, into the darkness that was so close. Two yards away, and their protection would end. "Do you think it's a fluke that the baby they kidnapped was the daughter of the Order's Guardian angel?"

  "What?" She sat up, her eyes widening.

  "The whole thing was a setup to bring me back," he said. "They knew that we'd be drawn to each other, that we would find each other, and then the noose would tighten." He looked at her. "We've been manipulated from the start, Catherine, and they're stealing what we both want. Your daughter, and my freedom."

  Chapter Twelve

  A COLD CHILL rushed down Catherine's spine and she scrambled to her feet. "You think they took my daughter to get to you?" At his grim nod, she felt her chest tighten in panic. Lucy had been targeted because they had wanted Ryland? He was the one who was the danger to her? How could she have been so blind? She'd been falling right into the hands of the man who would expose her to everything. "I need to get dressed," she mumbled, as she stumbled past him, grabbing for her clothes.

  She'd trusted him. Despite all her claims, she'd started to trust him. She'd let him make love to her for heaven's sake. She grabbed her underwear and pulled it on, her hands shaking violently.

  "Hey!" Ryland grabbed her arm as she fumbled with her bra strap. "Cat—"

  "No!" She slapped his hand away and yanked her bra on. "Don't."

  His jaw flexed, and his eyes darkened. "Hey," he said, his voice so low and lethal that she froze. "I am not your fucking enemy," he said. "I didn't steal your daughter—"

  "I trusted you!" Her hands shaking, she grabbed for her jeans, needing to be covered up—

  "Catherine!" He grabbed her arms and spun her toward him, his eyes fierce. "Don't pull away from me," he growled. "Not right now. I need you—"

  "You need me? You need me?" How could she have forgotten her goal? Her plan had been to use him to find the entrance, and then continue on her own. And yet she'd screamed at him to come with her. She'd fallen under yet another spell of a man. "You—"

  "I did nothing to you," he growled. "I swore I would give my life for you, angel, and I will. I didn't take your daughter. I haven't done a fucking thing but protect you and keep you safe—"

  "You made me trust you!" She slammed at his chest, fear hammering at her. "Don't you get it? I trusted him and he betrayed me—"

  "Him? Who?" He locked her down against him, trapping her. "Who did you trust? What are you talking about?"

  "Simon," she gasped, still fighting to get free of the arms that had held her so tightly while they'd been making love. "I fell in lo
ve with him, and we had a baby, and then he stole her and brought her here. He told me I had to work for them to get her back and—"

  She couldn't breathe. Panic hammered at her, and she struggled to get free of his embrace, of the arms that she had wanted to stay in so badly just a short time ago. "And now, again, it's happening again, just like before. You led them to me. How could I be so stupid?" She fought to get free. "Let me go!"

  "Hey! I'm not Simon!" He swore as he fought to contain her. "Catherine! Look at me! I'm not Simon!"

  She squeezed her eyes shut, not daring to look at him. If she did, she knew she would want to trust him, and she knew she couldn't. She had no faith in her ability to know who to trust, to discern who to believe in. She'd trusted Ryland, fallen right into his arms, and yet he was the cause of her losing Lucy? It didn't matter if he was culpable or not. The fact was that he endangered all that mattered to her, and she hadn't seen it. "Let me go," she whispered, finally going still in his arms, too exhausted to fight his superior strength anymore. "Just let me go."

  "No."

  Fear began to ripple through her, true fear. It started deep inside her, swelling with such fierceness it exploded through her. Her skin turned black, and the light went out in the cave.

  Ryland sucked in his breath, and his body flinched. "Jesus, Cat, what are you doing?"

  She knew his flesh was burning and decaying everywhere she touched him. Her defenses were taking over, destroying the threat that bound her. "Let me go," she snapped. "You have to!"

  He tightened his grip on her. "Fuck that, angel. I'm an immortal warrior and it's not that easy to kill me." His voice was steely with pain, but he didn't release her.

  "I'm death, Ryland. Release me!" The fear grew inside her, attacking Ryland and trying to destroy him before he could hurt her. That fear had come too late with Simon. Her weapons had been stripped from her by her love for him, by her disbelief, by the shattering of her heart. Too late, she'd realized what he was doing. It had been too late to stop him. Not so with Ryland. She was ready this time, protecting herself before all was lost. "Take your hands off me," she repeated, her voice becoming low and haunted, thick with death as her death touch came to life, infecting him, tainting him, killing him.

  "You forget something, angel." He bent his head so his face was against hers. "I'm death, too. Bring it on, babe. Bring it on." Then he kissed her.

  Kissed her!

  She was death! She was killing him, and he was kissing her?

  And he didn't stop! He just assaulted her with his kisses, drinking in everything she thrust at him until a slow, horrifying realization came to life within her: she couldn't kill him. She couldn't stop him. He was somehow immune to her touch of death. If he chose to destroy her, she had no way to stop him.

  She went cold, the ice cold of death, rigid in his arms.

  Ryland broke the kiss right away. "What's wrong?"

  "You," she gasped. "I can't stop you." Her legs gave out, and Ryland went down with her as she collapsed on the stone. "I couldn't stop him," she gasped, gripping his arms. "He was my husband, the father of my child. He'd been this great salvation, a white light that kept my dark side at bay. When I slept with him, my mind was quiet, and I didn't kill anyone. I awoke each morning with no new souls in my body."

  "Okay," Ryland said. "Tell me more."

  She slumped, barely aware of the cold stone beneath her knees, of the chill on her upper body. "He was my salvation, Ryland. Don't you see?"

  "He gave you freedom from killing people. Yeah, I get that," he said grimly. "There was a time when that was all I would have wanted for myself."

  Catherine closed her eyes. "I was feeding Lucy one morning. Simon came in and asked to hold her, so I let him. Then he walked to the door and looked back at me. His eyes were black, so black, and a horrifically stained aura suddenly flowed from him. I realized in that moment that he was pure evil, pure death, and he'd somehow been hiding it from me. I didn't understand. I didn't believe it. I loved him." She reached out with her hand, just like she had that day so long ago, pleading for him to come back to her. "I didn't understand how dangerous he was to us," she whispered. "Not until he told me that it was time for me to resume what I'd started when I was four."

  Ryland's grip tightened on her. "Which was what?"

  "Killing souls." She closed her eyes. "After my parents died, some angels found me and brought me to an angel enclave. I was coated in death and evil, but they cleansed me and healed me. I met Alice there, and she was my dear friend. I thought it was all over, that life was good."

  Ryland swore under his breath. "That was when you killed everyone?"

  She nodded. "They came to me in my sleep. I don't know exactly how it happened, but I somehow flooded the village with death. Everyone died. Demon death, people said, but it wasn't. It was me." She closed her eyes. "Whatever I had unleashed was still there, feeding on everyone. I got Alice out of there, and we ran. God, we ran, even though it was me that we were running from."

  "Shit, Catherine—"

  "Alice refused to believe it was me, and it was her faith, her misguided naïve faith, that somehow gave me hope. For years, she protected me and kept it at bay, though I was always afraid to sleep unless she was beside me. Then I met Simon, and he was like the gift I'd been searching for my whole life. I felt safe. He gave me a family and a home, and I left Alice to be with him."

  "He isolated you," Ryland said grimly. "Took away all your support except him."

  Catherine nodded. "The day he snatched my daughter, he said it was time for me to fulfill my legacy, and to destroy the Order. I would get my daughter back only after everyone was dead."

  Ryland's grip tightened on her arms. "And that was when you took Dante's soul?"

  "No. I refused to sleep again after that, except when Alice was there. She would wake me up after five minutes, before I could fall deeply enough asleep. She and I tracked Simon, because I knew if I could get to him before he made it back to the nether-realm, I could save Lucy. But he was leading us right to Warwick Cardiff. Once he found me..." Catherine bit her lip. "I would wake every morning with new taint on my soul. I was taking souls every night, and I didn't remember who or what. I would just feel it in the morning." She realized she was leaning on Ryland, and she instinctively pulled way. "I remember Dante, though," she whispered. "I was awake for him. It was the first time Warwick got me to take a soul when I was awake."

  This time, Ryland released her, but she sensed that he was ready to come after her if she tried to bolt. "Why did Alice want to kill you? Why did she say you wanted to die?"

  Catherine hugged herself, rocking gently as she fought for control, to regain her strength. "Because every time I take a soul and kill it, a piece of my own soul dies. Eventually, I will kill my own soul, and I will stop existing just like those souls I take."

  Ryland swore. "You're the angel of death. You can't just die."

  "I can, and I'm very close." Catherine hugged herself, thinking of the sweet face of her baby girl who was in such danger. "I knew that as long as my soul was alive, Lucy would not be alone. I would somehow be able to get to her, even if it was from the afterlife. But if my soul dies, I cease to exist completely. That means I leave my daughter alone and exposed for all eternity." She fisted her hands. "I made Alice promise that if too much of my soul died, that she would take my physical life so that at least my soul would live on for Lucy. Unfortunately, I'm really difficult to kill."

  Ryland sat back on his heels. "You would offer your life for your daughter."

  "God, yes. Of course I would. What other reason is there to live?" Numbly, she tried to scramble to her feet. "I have to go get her. I have to get her now. I already almost killed you. I've never done that in the daytime when I was awake. I'm falling, and I need—"

  "Hey." Ryland caught her arm, stilling her. "You didn't almost kill me. Not by a long shot. You were reacting in fear to protect yourself, because you saw me as Simon."

  She s
tared at him. "I tried to kill you—"

  "No. You didn't." Anger was burning in his eyes. "Listen to me, Cat. Simon betrayed you. The bastard lured you in and then betrayed you. He's a scum-sucking pig who should have his balls hacked off and fed to the demons."

  Catherine stared at him and had the most inane desire to laugh at the image he presented. "Yes, he's all that, but the truth is that I didn't see him for who he was until it was too late. If I couldn't see that, then how do I trust my judgment with anyone?" She lifted her chin. "I swore to myself I wouldn't make that mistake again, and then I went and did it anyway, throwing my lot in with you."

  Ryland's eyes flashed. "I wouldn't betray you."

  "That is the same promise Simon made to me every single night for two years." She ground her jaw. "He even gave me a blood promise that he would always be there for me."

  Ryland sat up. "A blood promise? What the hell's that?"

  "We exchanged blood in a ceremony that binds us forever. It was part of our marriage ceremony. It's a very ancient ritual for angels that isn't done much anymore. But he wanted to do it." She grimaced. "I didn't know that he wanted the bond so that he could manipulate me."

  Ryland felt his vision begin to blacken. "You're blood-bonded with another male?"

  "Yes." She rubbed her arm, where his knife had carved two lines in her flesh. "I still carry the marks as a reminder every day that I trusted the wrong person. A reminder to stand on my own." She turned her arm over to look at it again and then frowned. "That's weird," she muttered.

  Ryland wasn't listening. He had braced his hands on the ground, fighting against the new onslaught. "You called Thano's halberd. You hear his voice. You're blood-bonded with another man—"

  Catherine gasped, and he jerked his head up. "What?"

  She was looking at her arm. "There's another line here."

  "What?" Ryland grabbed her arm and jerked it toward him, sudden adrenaline rushing through him. Making love was one of the stages of the Calydon bond with his soul mate. His mark could be on her—