Dark and Dangerous: Six-in-One Hot Paranormal Romances

by Jennifer Ashley

  “Okay. I can see that you’re not going to talk, but at least tell me about the wedding. Was it much different than ours?”

  *** *** ***

  Gerrod shouted up the hall from his private sitting room. “Gus, where the hell are my socks?”

  He’d been shouting a lot lately and his scowl was sitting hard these days, low on his brows. Gus told him yesterday he was developing a troll-ridge and that if he wasn’t careful he’d be switching species any day now.

  His temper was off the charts. Two weeks, two horrible weeks had passed since he’d last seen Abigail at Vojalie’s. Sweet Goddess but he was irritable and the blood starvation was back. He needed to call one of his doneuses, but the Goddess help him, he couldn’t tap the number on his phone.

  He blamed Abigail for this, that he’d gotten a taste of rosemary blood and now nothing else would do.

  He returned to pace his bedroom. He couldn’t find his socks, at least not the kind he needed for his boots. He had to have just the right kind. Gus knew that. What the hell was wrong with his castle staff anyway, that his drawers couldn’t be kept full of the socks the Mastyr of Merhaine preferred?

  If he had to fight the Invictus now every night and if he had to make sure that one million souls were safe, he should at least have the socks he wanted.

  He went to the doorway, and shouted again, “Where are my fucking socks?”

  Gus appeared at the top of the hall, the only one that led to his private suite. His expression was grim. He carried a large wicker basket in both hands. His lips had become a thin white line.

  “About fucking time.” He moved back into his sitting room, stomped into his bedroom, paced in front of the bed. His boots sat there, waiting. Gerrod had Invictus to face tonight again. Did no one understand that his life had become a nightmare?

  The bastards had become active as hell and now he cursed as much as Ethan.

  Why the hell hadn’t Abigail even called him? A simple courtesy call was the very least he had expected. ‘No, I can’t become a vampire. So sorry.’ At the very least she should have called and said that to him.

  Goddess, he would kill to hear her voice.

  Gus appeared in the doorway, lifted the wicker basket to his shoulder, and with the apparent use of all the strength he possessed, he flung it at Gerrod.

  The wicker struck him with all the force of a pillow against his right arm. He batted it away and about a hundred socks flew in every direction, some pink, some purple, many embroidered with flowers, none of them his boot socks. The basket landed upside down near the bathroom. “What the hell? What’s going on here. Gus—” His bellows echoed around the stone-walls of the room.

  He followed after him and shouted one more time, “Gus, what the fuck was that all about.”

  Gus did not even turn around. He just flipped him off and kept walking.

  *** *** ***

  Abigail iced another cupcake.

  Megan sat on a chair, bent over, and with artistry and skill, squeezed another leaf from yet another bag of well-crafted green icing. She did the leaves swiftly, one after the other, and they were nearly identical, perfect, and very leaf-like.

  She was recovering well and insisted on doing what she could to help with all the orders, especially the ones to Merhaine.

  “Joy tells me that you haven’t once been here when Gus comes to pick up the cupcake orders.”

  “I think it’s best.”

  Megan lifted the icing bag from her leaf job. “Are you ever going to tell me the truth about what happened two weeks ago?”

  Abigail shrugged. How could she explain the silence that had fallen on her, as though to speak of Merhaine was to make it more real than she could bear. She had made her decision. She couldn’t leave Megan. Ever.

  Megan set the bag of icing down and rose carefully from her sitting position. She rounded the long stainless steel worktable, getting in front of Abigail. “Talk.”

  But Abigail moved away, turning in the direction of the sink. Maybe cleaning up the dishes would help. She flipped the hot water on and thrust her hands into a pair of heavy duty yellow gloves.

  She began to rinse and arrange the dishes in the commercial grade dishwasher.

  Megan got up close supporting herself with forearms on the counter. “You’re in love with him.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe. Oh, my God, Abigail, are those tears?”

  “What of it?”

  Megan reached over and shut the water off. “You have got to talk to me.”

  Abigail couldn’t pretend anymore. She slumped to sit on the tile floor, pulling up her knees and balancing her arms right on top of both. Megan eased herself down to sit beside her. “Just so ya know, I won’t be able to get up by myself.”

  Abigail nodded, but she couldn’t see much. Everything was a blur behind a wall of unshed tears. “I just have to get over him. I’m sure I can.” She rubbed her throat, trying to ease the sudden painful constriction. She remembered the last time Gerrod had sunk his fangs. He’d held her pressed against the storeroom door in the Merhaine bakery.

  Then there was nothing but tears, about a million of them.

  Megan rubbed her shoulders, her arms, her hands. At some point, she must have struggled to her feet then returned to sit beside her once more because she shoved about a dozen tissues at Abigail. She used every one.

  When at last the tears began to subside, and the brokenness of her heart had become more of a drifting kind of pain in her chest instead of a painful strike against a forge, she told Megan everything.

  ‘Oh, my God’, fell from Megan’s lips about a hundred times.

  “So you would become a vampire.”

  “Apparently I’m almost halfway there as it is.”

  Megan blinked a couple of times, staring at her hard, her eyes narrowed slightly as though considering everything Abigail had been through. Finally, she said, “You have to go back.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not. You have to go back to Merhaine.”

  “But, if I do, I’ll want to stay.”

  “Exactly. I think your heart is already given.”

  “I can’t leave you. I won’t.”

  “Abigail, the truth is, I don’t want you to leave Flagstaff either, not if it means you’ll never come back as just human. I’d rather keep you here as my big sis, the one I can always turn to no matter what happens, the one who gave me such tremendous security for a good long decade. But I think you need to do this especially since I know you’ve been unhappy for years now.”

  “No I haven’t,” Abigail retorted. “I’ve enjoyed the bakery and I love your girls. You’re my life, Megs.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Let me say it differently. You’ve never had a choice about your life before. Never. Now you do. And the only question you really need to ask right now is: what do you want?

  “I’m not that sickly child anymore and our parents have been gone for a long time. I found the love of my life and I’ve built a life with him. The bakery, Abigail, well, it was the biggest gift you could have ever given me.

  “I’m suited for this work, but the one thing I’ve come to realize, especially when you got so excited about opening a second bakery in Hollow Tree, is that you’re meant for different things, maybe even bigger things.” She gestured with a wave of her hand in the direction of the leaves she’d been making. “How many of those have you made?”

  “What? The leaves?”

  “Yeah, the leaves. How many have you made today?”

  “None.”

  “I’ve made about a thousand, did you know that?”

  Abigail shrugged but she was a little surprised. “Really? Although, given how many cupcakes we sell, and how many leaves go on each one, it makes sense.” She laid her head on her knees. “Don’t you ever get bored, though?”

  “You mean like you?”

  “Yeah. Bored like me.”

  “You’ve just made
my point. I’m never bored. Not even making a thousand leaves a day. Never.”

  At that, Abigail lifted her head and stared at her sister. “We’re very different, you and I.”

  “Yes, we are.” Megan squeezed her arm. “I think you need to look at this situation differently and ask whether or not this new, unexpected path is the right one for you. Joe and I will adjust, so long as the girls get to see their Auntie Abigail every once in a while, fangs or not.”

  Abigail couldn’t believe that Megan was actually giving her permission for something so outrageous. “So you really wouldn’t mind if I became a vampire?”

  Megan shrugged. “I’ll admit it would be strange, and probably would be for awhile, but that’s not what matters. I want you to be happy and I want your life to mean something to you. Right now, here in Flagstaff, Abigail this isn’t your life you’re living. It’s mine.”

  All the pieces fell together with those words. This was Megan’s life that Abigail helped build for her, with never a thought for herself. But she had meant what she had said. She’d never been unhappy.

  But now, for the first time in her life, she could think beyond the bakery, beyond her human life, perhaps even embrace a life lived mostly at night, in the dark, in a castle, beside a wonderful vampire that yes, she had come to love.

  “I love him,” she said.

  “Oh, Abs, even I could see that.”

  Abigail laughed. “I feel like I just wasted the last two weeks.”

  “I would take that as an insult since you’ve been helping me, but in this case, I think I agree with you.”

  Abigail’s heart grew light, as though a tremendous burden had been lifted. She turned to her sister and hugged her, although taking care since she was essentially still recovering from surgery.

  “Thank you,” Abigail said. “I mean, I have no idea what has happened in the last couple of weeks or even if he wants me. But I’m going to find out.”

  But even as she had this thought, a vibration passed through her and she had the worst feeling that something had gone wrong in Merhaine.

  *** *** ***

  With lightning speed above the ground, Gerrod swept past the frontline. He could see the troll family under attack by a wraith in flight circling above like, the vulture she was. He was battling deep in Shepherd County, in a rural area, his vampire ability to see at night setting the landscape in a glow. The creature would dive in, and strike, hurting one or the other of the three realm-folk huddled together.

  Her partner, a vampire, also moved with astonishing speed, a sure sign they were symbiotic, a joined pair. The perversion of becoming Invictus added tremendous power and unfortunately a seemingly endless desire to do harm to the helpless.

  The vampire was less subtle and jerked the husband away from mother and baby. He carried him a hundred yards distant and began to feast. The troll’s legs flopped up and down.

  Derek pathed, We see them, Gerrod. Jason’s on his way.

  Stay back for orders. Let me get this pair shredded and the family to safety.

  He heard the troll baby shrieking and could see that it bore slices on its arms.

  Fury tightened Gerrod’s chest. He readied his power as he flew in their direction, just a foot off the ground, upright, his hands and arms vibrating, ready to release killing streams of energy.

  But just as he detected movement to both his left and his right, he was suddenly somersaulting through the air. His limbs were caught in what he finally recognized as some kind of netting.

  With his face smashed into the netting and near the ground, his body upside down, he watched the wraith go in for the kill and finish the family off, shrieking her victory as she then flew in his direction, her eyes dark with blood-lust.

  He couldn’t move. He couldn’t harness his power. And he couldn’t telepath his Guards.

  What the hell had the Invictus done to him?

  Then he smelled it: Fae magic, something done with oils. The netting was covered in it and in a flash, darkness spread over his mind, then nothing.

  *** *** ***

  Abigail got a strange sick feeling deep in her stomach, a stronger version of what she had felt earlier. She wiped the last of the tables. The hour was past eight and she was ready to close. Bakeries weren’t known for evening traffic and the last of the staff had just left. Megan had gone home hours earlier. Both Joe and Abigail had insisted on it.

  But Megan had also insisted that she reschedule for the next few days so that Abigail could go back to Merhaine and make her final decision.

  Now, as she grabbed her purse and took one look around, her gut tightened a little more.

  Abigail.

  Her heart twisted into a quick knot. That was Gerrod’s voice, so faint, but she was sure of it. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

  She had to get to Merhaine.

  She switched the lights off and nearly fell backward because a short figure was on the other side of the door and now knocking in swift jabs on the glass. “Abigail, tis I, Augustus.”

  She pulled out of her sudden shock, moved to the door, and let Gus in. He danced from foot to foot, clearly upset. Tears coursed down his face. She flipped the lights back on.

  “My God, what’s the matter? What’s happened?” Then she felt it. Somewhere, far away, Gerrod’s blood called out to her. “He’s blood-starved again, isn’t he? But there’s something more.”

  “The Invictus have him.”

  “What?” She weaved on her feet, but Gus grabbed her arm and kept her from toppling over.

  She planted her back against the wall to steady herself. “Tell me everything.”

  The recital spoke of Gerrod bellowing, growing weak, something about socks, and that the Invictus, the same night that she left Merhaine, had begun attacking various parts of the realm. At least a score of realm-folk were dead and dozens missing, some even from the more prosperous neighborhoods.

  “This sounds like war has been declared.”

  Gus mopped his face with an embroidered handkerchief. “Can you help us?”

  “I don’t know. I want to, but Gus, what can I possibly do that Gerrod’s Guards can’t?” But she had to go. Gerrod needed her.

  “We can’t get through to Mastyr Ethan and no one can pass the boundary to Bergisson Realm.”

  “Good God.”

  How frivolous her former concerns became in this moment, as in could she handle becoming a vampire, when Merhaine and its citizens were in so much danger.

  Yet, what could she do?

  She certainly couldn’t face down an entire army of Invictus pairs.

  Her heart thumped hard all over again. She could feel her blood thickening again, really fast, apparently anticipating what needed to be done.

  She put her hand on Gus’s shoulder. “Take me to the castle and we’ll go from there. Okay?”

  “I have the car waiting.”

  “No,” she said. “You need to bring one of the Guards here. I know that each of them have nearly Gerrod’s level of speed.”

  “Right. That’s the way to think this through.”

  He got very still. He closed his eyes, sinking into his inter-world telepathy. He jerked forward a couple of times, ‘pathing’ missteps perhaps.

  Finally, he opened his eyes. “Derek will be here in three minutes. He was already at the castle trying to contact Ethan again. But he couldn’t get through. Nobody knows how to get Gerrod back.”

  Abigail made her own phone call. “Hi, Meg.”

  “What’s going on? I know that tone of voice.”

  “I’ve got a vampire to save.”

  She could feel Meg smiling. “Come back to us when you can.”

  “I will. Take care of my cats?”

  “You bet.”

  When Derek arrived, he had blood smeared over one cheek and on both arms. She withheld a gasp and forced herself to take deep breaths. “I am sorry, Mistress Abigail.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Not even a little.”


  She turned to Gus. “Thank you for coming to get me. You did the right thing and I’ll do what I can to bring him back.”

  She stepped into Derek, slung her arm around his neck and put her right foot on his left instep. “Take me to the castle. Now.”

  She buried her face inside his shoulder and his strong Guardsman arm held her tight against him.

  A moment later she was air-borne, the wind whipping by her, the smell of the Ponderosa pines sharper because of the speed.

  Minutes later, Derek slowed, came to a stop, then cried out, “Oh, shit.”

  He flung her to the ground to protect her since three wraiths flew in circles in the front yard of the castle. Beneath them three bonded vampires levitated a foot above the ground, all waiting.

  But she opened her path to Gerrod and found him. I’m with Derek. Three wraiths, three vampires. What do they want?

  Oh, dear Goddess.

  Gerrod, what do they want? You must tell me.

  You. They’ve come for you. Why did you come back? They can’t breach human territory.

  I came back for you.

  Dear Goddess, no. I didn’t want this.

  She felt his guilt and knew to prolong the conversation would only create further agony for him. She cut the communication short. Whatever she did next had to be her decision.

  She reached out to Derek, pathing toward him and found his telepathic frequency. You must leave.

  Never. He glanced at her then back, ready to battle the enemy. He had already extended the boundary of his power creating a massive shield in front of her.

  “We want the human, Abigail of Flagstaff. She must come with us. If she does not, Mastyr Gerrod will die, within the hour.”

  “You lie,” Derek shouted.

  “They’re not lying,” Abigail said, drawing close to him. “I just pathed with Gerrod. He’s close to death, an hour, no more, unless I can get to him and save him.”

  “You know what they’ll want.”

  She glanced up at the wraiths. For us to complete a symbiotic Invictus joining.

  Exactly. They might even be able to force it.

  If it came to that, she pathed, meeting his gaze fully, Gerrod and I would die first. For now, I’m his only chance at survival. Please trust in that.