“Come on, Darby, come back to me,” he urged in a whisper, staring into her still-black eyes.
“No,” the demon spat. “She’s mine now. And forever.”
“Wrong.” With a final push, he drove the charms hard enough against her flesh to shatter each of the vials. They broke from the fierce pressure. He felt the liquid from within roll between his fingers and onto her skin, along with the gritty slide of the salt.
As each charm cracked open, holy water, salt and milk did their damage. The instant the three elements hit her, tendrils of smoke lifted off the surface of her skin, but he didn’t let go.
Even as he hated that he was hurting her, he knew that there was no help for it. The wound would heal and she’d be right in the end … as long as he managed to kill her demon.
Darby’s throat arched, the tendons stretched in agony.
Satisfaction curled through him as her eyes began to fade, flashing in and out. Soulless black one moment and hazel the next.
“Let her go,” he growled, shaking her, his clasp on her neck scalding hot. He knew his Darby was there, close to the surface.
A moan spilled from her lips. The sound came from her. It was Darby. He knew it.
Then he was blown free, ripped from her arms as the demon burst from her in a swirl of black shadow. Niklas’s blade flew from his hand and clattered to the ground.
Darby collapsed a few feet from him in a limp, boneless pile. Niklas scrambled toward her, carefully lifting her with his beastly hands.
The demon roared above them in a violent circling wind. Niklas held Darby close, shielding her, protecting her, telling himself the demon would leave now. That he wouldn’t dare come at her again. Not right now. This was over. For now. It had to be.
Turning so that his cheek pressed against Darby’s hair, he gazed at the window Darby had tried to escape through. He stared at the beams of sunlight, marveling that the sun could be shining at all right now. He was convinced that the sun would never shine again if he lost Darby.
DARBY CRACKED HER BLEARY eyes, the same fuzziness as before clogging her head. Would it be this way every time her demon took possession? Would she come to, struggling to recollect, to recall the horrors she’d committed at the behest of a demon?
Soft fur surrounded her. Her gaze slid up and she gasped at the lycan staring down at her—until she saw his eyes. Until she remembered. Niklas.
She tilted her face closer to look upon him, and the motion made her cringe. Her neck burned, stung like fire. She lightly touched the raw, scorched flesh there.
Dark wind swirled all around them, lifting trash, debris and newspaper into the air like wild birds. The demon’s outraged cries pummeled her ears. She flung her hands up to try and block out the sound.
Through the haze she could see him clearly. He tore through the air around them, his hideous face twisted in fury. He wasn’t done with her. With them. His rage fed him, made him stronger, strong enough to withstand the cold a little longer.
He was going to have another go at her. She knew it, felt it inside herself, in that part that was now linked to him.
She turned, sought Niklas’s face. Smiling, she reached up to touch him, stroke him, unafraid at the sight of him. If this was it, the end, it wasn’t so bad that it happened while in his arms. A month ago, she had no one to hold her.
Now she had him.
She’d beat out her mother’s prediction. She wasn’t alone. He had shifted for her. For her. She didn’t think anyone had ever done such a thing for her before. And to stay here even when it meant he would die. She’d never had that before. Someone who cared enough. Who loved her. Looking into his eyes, she saw that. Knew it to be true.
As much as she wanted him to go, to leave her, to be all right someplace safe far away from her, her heart felt warm and full in a way it had never felt before.
He smiled back at her, or rather grimaced. She doubted he could truly smile as a lycan, but she knew he meant to smile.
Drained and tired from her recent possession, she felt her hand fall limply from his face. She was too weak to even hold it up any longer.
“You should go,” she whispered over the roar of wind and shadow. She had to try. At least one more time.
Her hand brushed something cold and metallic on the ground.
“I’m not leaving you,” he responded in his thick, guttural voice. An animal’s voice that would make anyone else shrink in terror. Or run. But she knew the man underneath. The soul within.
She felt the ground, patting with her hand. Her fingers closed around the object, identifying it. Niklas’s knife. She tested the weight of it, surprisingly light in her hand. The handle felt abrasive against her palm but good, reassuring in its solidness.
She looked away from Niklas, fixing her gaze on the demon she’d been afraid to look at. He held himself over her in a state of full wrath, his slit eyes spitting fury, his lipless mouth curled in a snarl.
“You’ll regret giving me so much trouble,” he uttered in his ancient tongue, the words instantly translating in her mind.
He arched himself high above her, preparing to plunge back inside her. And in that moment it would be over. Everything done. The air locked in her lungs as she braced for it.
Niklas wouldn’t leave. There was no use begging. She couldn’t make him go. He was as stubborn and determined as she was. So he would stay—and her demon would see him dead through her, manipulating her.
And that’s when she saw it. The mark of the fall where he was pushed from Heaven. The sign of God’s abandonment. His Achilles’ heel, nestled in deep shadow under his biceps. A thin handprint glowed brightly, beckoning her. She saw it!
Her heart skipped, stuttered and then took off in a wild beat. Before she could think or even wonder if she could do it—if she could manage it—she lurched off the ground and plunged the blade deep into the demon’s vulnerable flesh just as he was descending.
His scream filled the air. A hellish screech that could shatter glass. Darby brought her hands to her ears. Niklas held her tightly, and together they watched as the demon clawed at the blade, trying to pull it free of his scaled gladiator body. But it was too late. She’d made contact—wounded him in the one place he could never heal.
The demon crumpled, wilted before her eyes, blurring into a twisting plume of smoke as he dropped to the floor. Gradually the air cleared, leaving nothing. No sign of the demon that had once possessed her.
Gasping and shaking, she fell back down to the ground. Niklas caught her up in his arms.
“Darby!” He shifted then, returned to himself. She was instantly surrounded by smooth, warm muscle. He slid a familiar callused palm along her cheek. She smiled faintly as she realized she wasn’t the only one shaking. “You did it!”
She nodded, the motion as jerky and erratic as her pulse. “You came,” she whispered, gazing into his indigo eyes. “You shifted.”
He grinned, one corner of his mouth cocking in that way that made her breath fall faster. “It was nothing.”
She swatted his bare shoulder. Transitioning, shifting into that thing, that part of himself which he hated … it had been everything. And she knew it.
She peered intently at his face. “I wouldn’t be free if it wasn’t for you. I won’t ever forget what you did for me today. For Aimee. It was brave—stupid, but brave.” Then a thought dawned on her. “Aimee!” she exclaimed. “Where is she? She was supposed to return to you—”
“She’s fine. She’s being watched by a very nice lady back at the hotel. We’ll go see her right now.”
She relaxed, nodding. Of course, Niklas would see that Aimee was safe.
He sobered. His touch on her cheeks grew firmer, the pressure of each finger searing. “Why do you make it sound like you’re going somewhere? Like this is good-bye?”
“I—” She didn’t know what to say to that. She shivered, and remembered herself and where they were, what had just happened. Staring into his eyes, she could forget
everything. “We better get out of here. It’s cold.”
“Nice change of subject. But you’re not running out on me.” He shook his head, slowly, his devouring gaze never wavering from her face. “Not ever again.”
Her chest grew tight and itchy from the way he was looking at her. She swallowed and moistened her lips as the words in her heart rose up on her lips. “I don’t want to leave you, Niklas. I didn’t want to leave you back at the hotel—”
“But you did.”
“Because I had to.”
“You thought, inaccurately, that you had to.” His hand slid around to grip the back of her head. “Don’t ever do that to me again.” His voice softened, gentled to almost a plea. “Okay?”
She nodded, emotion thickening her throat.
He pressed a kiss to her lips, speaking as he did so, “Now let’s go home.”
Home. God, that word sounded good. For the first time in a long time, it felt real. It felt possible. It didn’t occur to her to wonder where home was. Because she knew, with blinding certainty, that her home was with him and it always would be.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Darby and Niklas stared through the lightly falling snow at the pretty little house with gingerbread trim. It was something out of a storybook. In the emerging day smoke curled from the brick chimney. A beautiful piece of stained glass hung in the large front bay window. A cat appeared in the windowsill, stretching so that its calico tail brushed the framed glass.
Darby rubbed her hand up and down Aimee’s slight arm. “This is the place,” she announced. There was only one Alice Davies listed as a resident of this town.
“I remember the pretty glass in the window.” Aimee pointed at the house, leaning forward anxiously. “And that’s Patch. I remember he used to chew my toes.” She giggled and the sound lifted Darby’s heart.
Darby smiled, glad to see her anxious to reunite with her grandmother, but sad, too. Sad to say good-bye. She slid a lock of soft brown hair behind the girl’s ear.
Aimee looked at her, some of the happiness dimming from her eyes. “Don’t you want to come in with me?”
Darby slid a pained glance at Niklas. They’d gone over this. She knew it was the only way. His look was sympathetic, even as his eyes conveyed what she already knew. Aimee had to go in alone.
With a deep breath, she drew the girl into her arms and hugged her tightly. “No. We can’t go with you, honey.”
“Aimee,” Niklas began, his voice gentle. “You know it’s not a good idea to tell anyone what happened—”
“You mean about the monsters?”
Niklas flicked his gaze to Darby, questioning, unsure whether he should confirm this. Darby gave him an encouraging nod. They couldn’t erase any of the things from Aimee’s mind.
“Yes. The monsters. It’s not a good idea to tell people about them—”
“Yeah. No one would believe me.” Aimee nodded, her blue-green eyes widely innocent but also wise beyond her years.
“Probably not,” he agreed.
“They’d probably think I was loony.”
“Yes,” Darby quickly inserted. “And we wouldn’t want them to think you’re loony.”
“They could lock me up in the loony bin.” She nodded solemnly, and Darby was surprised at how unerringly close to the truth that statement was.
“Yes,” Darby agreed, solemn in turn.
She wrinkled her little nose. “And you know, I don’t really want to talk about them anymore. I’d rather forget them.”
“I can understand that. You’ve been a very brave girl.”
Aimee gathered her small bag of things, her movements reflecting her eagerness to be on her way, to see her grandmother. Darby forced her hands to remain still at her sides, letting her go. She should be glad it’s this easy for the girl. She had endured a lot. Darby didn’t want her sad or reluctant to leave. No sense this being hard for both of them.
With one hand on the latch of the car door, Aimee stopped and turned, smiling back at Darby. Darby felt herself smile back, even though her heart was aching.
Aimee flung herself into Darby’s arms one final time. As if sensing Darby’s sadness, she said, “It’s going to be all right, Darby. I have Gram. She’ll take care of me.” She pulled back and looked into Darby’s face with those wise eyes. “And you have Niklas.”
Darby nodded, finding no difficulty agreeing with that statement. Her gaze slid to him and her heart swelled. She had Niklas.
Then Aimee was gone, out the door and running up the snow-covered walk. Darby could hear her pounding on the front door from where they sat inside the car. A middle-aged woman opened the door, her expression startled to find Aimee standing there by herself. But joy was soon there, eclipsing any other emotion. The woman bent down and hugged Aimee, looking as though she would never let her go.
Darby watched, breathless, bittersweet happiness filling her chest as Aimee and her grandmother went inside the house.
“Well,” Niklas said, letting the finality of that word hang on the air for a moment. “You did it. You got her home safely.”
“We did it,” she corrected. A lump formed in her throat. They were done here. Darby had kept her promises to Aimee.
And her promise to herself. To open herself to life. To open her heart.
Rather than get out of the car, Darby climbed into the front seat and dropped down beside Niklas. She covered his hand with her own and wove her fingers through his.
Her head fell back against the headrest. His eyes slid over her, lazy and seductive, warming her from the inside out. “Ready?” he asked.
“For anything,” she returned with a coy smile, buckling herself in.
“Oh, really?” He leaned across the distance separating them and kissed her, pressing his warm lips over hers until the kiss grew into something hungry and deep. When he broke free, she was breathless and wanting more.
His smile was blinding, gorgeous and genuine, the grooves on either side of his cheeks deep.
“You have me,” he said, echoing Aimee’s earlier comment.
“That’s right.” It was more than she had ever hoped, ever dreamed she would have.
“And I have you.” His hand turned over, his palm kissing hers. With one hand on the wheel, he guided them out onto the road. They weren’t alone anymore. They had each other.
She looked back once to the cozy house with its smoking chimney, and then looked ahead again. The sun was starting to come out, breaking through the clouds. Suddenly the road looked very bright.
Turning, she looked at Niklas, catching his gaze, basking in the warmth of his smile, in the happiness of her heart.
Everything looked brighter.
Fantasy.
Temptation.
Adventure.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Back Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Night Falls on the Wicked Page 20
