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

by Mina Carter

  "Can't." His voice was rough and deep, but he managed to form words even though he was in dragon form.

  "Fuck that shit. You won't, more like it."

  Thano's words hit deep, and Ryland flinched. "You believe that?"

  "Yeah, 'cause if you wanted to stop, you would." Thano's green gaze met his. "You're more than the rest of us, Ry. You always have been."

  "Fuck that. More of a monster."

  Thano managed a grin. "Yeah, that too."

  Ryland. Catherine's voice was urgent, compelling, and it seemed to fill his entire soul with light and yearning. Sudden realization rushed through him. He didn't want to die. He wanted to be with her. You need to focus on your team. Accept your mission as their guardian. Don't fight it.

  Again with the angel? Resistance built inside him, raw denial for the lies she was spinning. I'm not a fucking angel—

  Shut up for one second, she snapped, her voice filling him with urgency. This is how it works, Ryland. You must accept your true calling, or you can never fully tap into your power. Look at your team, acknowledge your need to save them, and then state that you accept your mission. Do it now!

  "No way." Thano was staring at him in shock. "You're an angel?"

  Ryland glared at him. "Get out of my head."

  "Dude, you're broadcasting like there's no tomorrow—" There was a loud scream of agony, and both of them turned their heads to see Zach fall as an asper cat leapt on him. One of the other Order members, a stranger they didn't even know, beheaded the cat a split second before it finished off Zach. But even as he did it, another cat attacked, tearing a chunk out of his shoulder.

  Outrage roared through Ryland, and the need to save them vibrated through him. But he was too weak to move, his life bleeding away, which was fortunate, because every move he took was designed only for the purpose of killing his own damned team.

  Ryland— Catherine's voice was cut off, and he felt a stab of pain from her.

  Cat? What's wrong?

  Simon. Another burst of pain jerked through her, igniting a lethal anger within him. Possessiveness raged through him, an agony that seemed to rip his heart right out of his body. "Thano! Save her!"

  "Really?" Thano shot him a disbelieving look. "You dumbass. Look around. We're all going to die. No one is going to be left to save her, unless our missing third angel shows his pretty little face and helps us out."

  Ryland's soul screamed in protest as more pain hit Catherine. Frantic, he looked around the clearing and saw only death. They were all losing. They would all be dead. Thano was right. No one would be left. Not even Catherine. "No!"

  Ryland. Help me.

  Fierce determination swelled through him, and suddenly Ryland didn't give a shit what he was capable of, what his destiny was, or what anyone thought about him. Only one thing mattered. Saving the people who mattered to him. With a roar of fury, he turned toward his team, following Catherine's orders. He accepted the horror of what he was seeing as the truth. He scented the blood of warriors. He heard their screams of pain. He watched them fall. He let their suffering and torment fill every space in his soul. As their suffering filled him, so did an answering, grim resolve, an unflinching drive to protect them, to end their suffering, to make the shit stop. "I need to save them," he growled.

  At his confession, something flickered inside him. Strength. Energy.

  "I need to save them," he repeated, louder this time. More energy seemed to fill him, flooding his muscles with strength.

  "I need to save them!" he shouted. "I accept my mission!" The words seemed to explode from him. Not just from his mouth, but his chest, his heart, from the very depths of all the darkness swirling around inside him. "I am their guardian angel, and I accept my fucking mission now!"

  As he bellowed the words, a massive golden light exploded in the sky above them, showering everything with a fiery glow. Life flooded Ryland, and he leapt to his feet with a roar of triumph. He spun around, his massive claws ripping an asper cat off Apollo's back. He hurled it into one of the pyres by the entrance, and it screamed in agony as the fires of hell consumed it.

  He tore across the clearing like hell unleashed, his roar flattening the trees for a mile around. He reached Zach first, his massive jaws crushing an asper cat just as it went for Zach's throat. Ripping it apart, he hurled it aside as he smashed his tail into a duo that was ripping the flesh from one of the cloaked Order's body. He was everywhere, moving faster than he'd ever moved before, taking out the beasts as they swarmed him. Hundreds seemed to flood from the woods, summoned to the battle to take out the creature threatening them.

  He whirled around, their teeth tearing scales from his body as he attacked them with his claws, his teeth, his tail, everything he had. The air was filled with the tormented cries of the cats, with his howls of victory, in a battle that seemed to stretch on and on and on—

  Until suddenly, there were no more left.

  Ryland stood on all fours, his massive body heaving as he stood at the ready in the middle of the clearing, his tail flicking restlessly. Around him, hundreds of asper cats littered the ground. Not a single one breathed. Not a single one had been spared. Creatures that had taken hundreds, thousands of lives, would never hurt another soul.

  "What the fuck is that?" Zach shouted.

  What? Something else? Ryland spun around, his claws bared, only to discover that Zach and the other five Order members were surrounding him in a well-armed circle. Their weapons were out, even as blood streamed from their decimated bodies.

  "Don't move," Zach commanded, moving so that he was in front of Thano, blocking Ryland's access to the downed warrior. "Stand down, creature."

  Ryland's eyes narrowed at the distrust on Zach's face, at the way everyone's weapons were pointed at him. It was the same as it had always been: his own team looking at him as if he were going to tear them apart, ready to kill him at a moment's notice. Again, he was on the outside.

  Which was fine.

  He wasn't there to make friends.

  He was there to keep the ungrateful bastards alive—

  A lone clap made everyone jump.

  Then there was another, and Ryland saw Apollo nudge the battered Thano to a sitting position as he clapped again. "Bravo," he said.

  "Bravo?" Zach echoed. "What are you talking about?"

  Thano continued to clap, harder and harder, and something shifted inside Ryland. He lowered himself into a crouch, his tail flicking as Thano continued to applaud. "It's Ryland," Thano said. "He saved our asses."

  Zach spun around to look at Ryland. "That's Ryland?"

  Ryland didn't even bother to respond. He just turned to Thano. I'm going to get Cat—

  "Ryland's our third angel," Thano announced. "He's the Order's guardian angel."

  Ryland swore. He did not have time for this shit. He spun around to head back into the nether-realm, then stopped when he found his path blocked by the five hooded Order members. They were standing in a row, feet spread, arms by their sides, swords clenched. A low growl echoed from Ryland. He would not lower himself to speak to them directly. Tell them to stand aside. I'm going back in—

  The leader of the Order went down on one knee before Ryland. He bowed his head and laid his swords in a cross at Ryland's feet. "We honor you, angel."

  Then, to his shock, the other four did the same, repeating the words. Numbly, he stared in disbelief, stunned by the sight of Order members saluting him. For hundreds of years, no one had ever looked at him as if he had value. He was an outsider, a loner, a ticking bomb that would need to be cut down at any moment.

  But here, but now, they were treating him with the reverence reserved for a man as great as Dante. Not for him. Never for him.

  He hadn't even figured out how to respond when Apollo trotted up beside them, Thano now on his back. Apollo stood behind the leader of the cloaked warriors and went down on one knee while Thano bowed his head and laid his halberds across Apollo's neck. "You're good shit, Ry. Good shit."


  And then, his footsteps uneven and heavy, Zach limped to the front of the line. For a long moment, he stood and faced Ryland, his dark brown eyes hard.

  Ryland stiffened, his tail flicking as he waited for the condemnation from the man who had never believed in him.

  "You." Zach bit the word out with such hostility that Ryland almost flinched. "You fucking liar."

  "Liar?" Ryland repeated, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I'm a liar? What the fuck is that about?"

  "You run around making us think you're going to kick our asses, but all that crap was just a distraction to make us not notice how many times you risked your life to save us, wasn't it? Like when you went into the pit after Thano?" Zach suddenly broke out into a broad grin and slammed his hand down on Ryland's shoulder. "You are one crazy bastard, Ry, and the ugliest angel I've ever seen, but if there is anyone in the entire world I would pick to be my guardian angel, it's you. Shit, yeah." Then he, too, dropped to one knee and crossed his weapons on the ground in a show of the purest deference.

  As Ryland stared at the seven men before him, an almost overwhelming sensation of connection and rightness swelled inside him. These were his men. These were his souls. These were his people. These were the reason he was alive. He felt it in the very depths of his soul. This was where he belonged...with them...and with the woman who still needed his help. Catherine?

  There was no reply, just a wave of darkness and pain. A cold chill settled on him, and his gaze snapped to the dark entrance of the nether-realm.

  Thano sucked in his breath. "Son of a bitch. He's hurting her." He urged Apollo to his feet, a dark, lethal expression on his face. "We need to find her."

  Ryland's attention jerked to Thano. He'd never seen a look of such lethal fury on the mellow warrior's face. It was the expression of a man on a mission, of a warrior whose mate was being threatened. Son of a bitch. He'd forgotten that it was Thano's brand that was on her arm, that it was Thano who had been bonding with her. But even as he looked at his teammate, he knew he couldn't give her up. She was his.

  Thano met his gaze. "The darkness surrounding her is intense. Can you feel it?"

  "Of course I can."

  "We need to both go in there."

  Conflicting emotions warred within Ryland. The need to keep Thano away from Catherine, and a more pressing instinct to do whatever it took to save her. He had no idea what he would become when he returned to the nether-realm, whether he would be enslaved again. The cuffs were still around his ankles and neck. When Dante and the angel had freed him, the cuffs had vanished. This time, they were still there.

  He had no choice but to bring Thano. "Okay," he said. "Let's do it—"

  Zach stood up. "We're going with you."

  "No." Ryland shook his head even as the others stood up. "I won't endanger you—"

  "Hey." Zach walked up to him, his eyes dark. "Just because your mission is to save our asses, doesn't mean you coddle us. Nothing has changed, Ryland. We are warriors first. A team. And you don't stand alone. Dante's still in there, and so is Catherine. If you're going in there, we're going in. End of story, so don't bother to argue. Got it?"

  A slow, disbelieving grin seemed to spread through Ryland as the others agreed with Zach. "All right then. Get your asses on board."

  With a loud battle cry, Zach grabbed one of the spikes on Ryland's neck and hauled himself onto Ryland's scaly back. In less than a second, the other five were also on his back, weapons out and ready. Ryland immediately took off, his wings flapping as he sped toward the opening. Apollo took off after him, keeping up with ease. But as Ryland headed toward the opening, he couldn't quite keep from glancing at Thano, who was hunched low over Apollo's neck. The humorous expression he always wore was gone. Instead, his face was set hard in lethal focus, his hands were fisted around his weapons, and he was urging the stallion on with more intensity than Ryland had ever seen Thano possess.

  Apollo was galloping flat out, sweat foaming on his neck as he thundered toward the entrance. Man and beast, on a mission to save a woman. His woman. Ryland's woman.

  They were in a race to get to Catherine, and only one man would win.

  With a low growl, Ryland stretched his neck out, lowered his head, and tore through the entrance. They swept through the opening side by side, neither of them in the lead. Catherine. Ryland reached out to her. I'm coming.

  At the same moment, he heard Thano echo his statement. We're coming for you, angel, Thano said. The whole damn lot of us.

  Then the vortex caught them, and Ryland focused on controlling their ride, so that he'd come out exactly where they needed to. The man in him half hoped that Apollo and Thano would get tossed in another direction, but even as he thought it, he moved his body over the horse, using his bulk to create a pocket for the duo so they would be able to stay with him, and stay safe.

  He was protecting the one man who might be able to take his woman away from him? Really? This angel shit was a pain in the ass. That was all he had to say about it. But when the vortex quieted, preparing to release them, his mind went still with the lethal focus of battle.

  It was time to save his woman.

  * * *

  Catherine gasped as Simon wrenched her head back and fastened a golden collar around her neck. It clicked shut, and then Simon put his hand on it. It glowed brightly, and seemed to melt into her very flesh. She screamed and tried to claw it off, but her wrists were already bound by the same metal, chained to the wall behind her.

  Simon released her, and she fell to the floor, gasping as she landed on hard stone. After using her power to try to bring down Simon, she had nothing left. Her soul was dying. The damage had been done. Simon's skin was mottled and flaking off, and she knew that he was dying as well. They were both going down, but at least Ryland would be free.

  "You stupid bitch," he snarled. "How dare you try to steal my soul?"

  "I didn't try. I did it."

  Simon stumbled toward a cabinet on the wall, his legs barely functioning. "Do you really think it is so easy to bring down the Dark Lord? You're an angel of death. You mean nothing to me." He yanked open the cabinet, and Catherine saw hundreds of stoppered bottles like the one that had held her daughter's spirit.

  Tears burned fresh, and grief crashed over her again. Her sweet, baby girl. "How could you have killed her? I don't understand. She's your daughter." No. Not his daughter. Simon was a bastard who didn't deserve the title of father. Not ever.

  He fell into the cabinet, crashing into the shelves. Dozens of bottles fell and shattered. The air around her filled with souls, the frantic, searching entities looking for their eternity. Lost, and confused. A self-preservation instinct flared through her, a need to feed, to consume the souls and give her enough strength to recover.

  She gritted her teeth, digging her fingers into the hard stone, refusing to give in. No more. No more. No more. She would not be that person ever again.

  Instead, she waved her hand, offering them her light to guide them on their journey. They passed by her, sailing from the nether-realm, their path illuminated by the angel of death in the role she was supposed to play as a guide for lost souls, instead of being a harbinger of death and destruction.

  Simon shoved more bottles off the shelf, his legs giving out as he fell. He lunged for a bottle on the bottom shelf, a pale green bottle that was almost six inches in diameter. A huge soul, one with tremendous power. As he moved it, she caught the faint pulsing of a familiar energy. Dante's? He spun toward her, holding it out. "You will guide this soul into me," he gritted out.

  Catherine realized instantly what he wanted to do. He wanted to mingle his life force with another soul and use it to sustain him. He wanted Dante's soul to become his? "No," she said. "Never."

  "You don't understand, bitch." He fell to his knees, holding the bottle under her chin. "I am Lucy's only chance to survive."

  She stared at him in shock. "What? Lucy's dead."

  "She is the daughter of th
e Dark Lord. She is far too valuable to kill."

  Catherine's mind reeled in disbelief. "She's okay?" she whispered, afraid to even say the words.

  "Not yet dead." He held up the bottle. "Guide Dante into me, and we will reclaim Lucy together."

  Was he telling the truth? Was he lying? She'd sensed Lucy's soul. How could she still be alive?

  He leaned forward. "Do you know how long a body can survive without a soul in residence?"

  She nodded. "It can't. Not even for a minute. Not if the connection is severed by death."

  "Oh, but my dear sweet, Catherine, you are mistaken."

  She blinked. "What are you talking about?"

  "Under certain conditions, like being killed by the Dark Lord himself on the temple steps, the bond is not completely severed. It takes two hours for that final cord to be cut. Until then, they can be reunited."

  She stared at him, inconceivable hope exploding through her. At his grin of triumph, she realized he was toying with her again, just like before. She recoiled from him, shaking her head. "No, you're lying. You're lying! It's impossible!"

  "I would think that you, of anyone, would realize that nothing is impossible." He smiled again. "Do you know how long it's been since Lucy has been without her soul?"

  Catherine's heart seemed to hover. "How long?" she whispered.

  "One hour and fifty-seven minutes." He breathed deeply. "I can smell the body preparing to die, can't you?"

  Her heart began to pound. "Put her soul back, then. Put it back!"

  "That's your job." He smiled. "You just need to guide her back, like any lost soul. Like you will do for Dante."

  For Dante? She suddenly realized what was going on. He was taking advantage of her need to believe the impossible, that her daughter was still alive, to make her work for him. It was all a lie. A stupid lie! Disappointment and weakness shuddered through Catherine. Fleeting hope lost so brutally and quickly. Her arms trembled where they held her up. Death was swirling through her, her soul bleeding out in its final battle. "You lie," she gritted out. "You're lying to me—"