Dead After Dark

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Sasha clung to him, her heart banging her ribs. She opened her eyes to see if the lunatic was pursuing them, but no human could have followed at the speed Trey was traveling. Before she took three breaths, he'd shoved her inside the Bronco, cranked the engine, and tore away from the parking spot.

  Sasha didn't loosen her death grip on the door until they'd passed the Carter Center, shocked as she studied the profile of a man she'd thought she knew at one time. But the feral look in his eyes tonight was one as foreign to her as watching him battle an unworldly being.

  "Um, Trey," she started carefully. "Want to talk?" Did he think he could just drive her home after that and not explain?

  His neck muscles pulsed, pumped as tight as his fingers gripping the steering wheel. "Yeah, I do."

  She held her breath, wondering how she could possibly believe any explanation for what just happened. And maybe he'd been so caught up in the metaphysical battle he hadn't noticed the trees falling.

  "Sasha, what exactly are you and why is a cursed Hindu warrior trying to take you from me?"

  3

  Trey ground his molars then eased up before they turned into powder. What the hell had happened back in Piedmont Park? The stoplight he barreled the Bronco toward changed to amber. He shoved an annoyed glare at the swinging lamp that switched right back to green before he reached the empty intersection and spun the truck left. Adrenaline surged so hard through his tight body he could wrench the steering wheel off the column.

  He took a breath and glanced at Sasha.

  She stared openmouthed at him in a stupor then recovered to yell, "Me? What are you?"

  Touche. His fury subsided. He'd been so shocked at her dropping two trees he'd overlooked exposing his own abilities.

  But he could not share much about Beladors outside his own kind and only to protect the tribe. The one exception was telling his mate, which Sasha would never be. Aside from the telepathy issue, he'd still never risk linking her life to his, a condition of taking a mate. And mating to anyone with powers was a major no-no that was rarely allowed.

  Trey wiped a hand over his face, buying a minute to formulate an answer then went with a stock line that VIPER's PR department doled out for government bureaucrats.

  "I'm trained to deal with . . . unusual situations. That's why I can't talk about what I do. Our agency's identity and operation are tightly protected secrets." Not bad. That was a reasonable answer without giving up anything significant.

  "If you think I'm going to accept a blanket statement written by someone who deals with damage control for your troops, you're crazy."

  "Sasha, I can't--"

  "Don't you Sasha me! I just watched you battle something from another world. What was he? And what did he mean about being owed for past blood debts?"

  Trey swung the Bronco onto her street, parked along the curb several car lengths from her house, and cut the engine. Tension battled for space in the sudden silence. He turned to her, expecting a woman close to hysteria.

  Sasha had swung around to face him and leaned back against the door, arms crossed with a you-better-have-answers look in her eyes. Forever his tough girl.

  "He's a Hindu warrior who lived eight hundred years ago," Trey answered. "I'm wondering why he's here and thinking he must have come in Ekkbar's place. As for the blood debt, I wouldn't want to speculate." He knew the story, but preferred to wait until he contacted Brina, who led the Belador warriors and answered to the Celtic goddess Macha. Bottom line--his Belador ancestors had murdered families of the Kujoo in an attempt to enslave the race, forcing future generations to make amends for past sins. How the hell was he going to keep Sasha safe from this demon and not draw the Beladors into a war?

  "Wait, you know who Ekkbar is?" Sasha asked.

  Trey leaned an elbow on the door panel and supported his forehead with his fingers. "Yeah, and you do, too. Time to start explaining, but first tell me how you dropped two trees."

  "I didn't hit him," she protested and shrugged sheepishly. "I was trying to send the birds down to break his focus so we could get away." She stared off in thought. "Must have used the wrong inflection. But I had the words right. Or maybe I--"

  "Sasha, what--are--you?" he repeated.

  She sagged against the door. Her arms relaxed. One hand lifted to her hair, twirling a length round and round a finger. She answered in a soft voice. "I'm a . . . witch."

  He wanted to laugh it off as a joke, didn't want to believe she'd kept that from him all this time. The embarrassed glance she sent him said she'd been serious. She'd never told him.

  Who am I to quibble? He'd never told her about being a Belador. "Since when?" he asked.

  "My whole life. My sister and I are tenth-generation witches. My twin brother, Tarq, is a warlock." She dropped her hand to her lap, tapping her fingers on one another.

  "What about your parents? What are they?"

  "Just plain dysfunctional." A wry grin touched her lips. "They aren't our biological parents. Rowan tried to tell me they weren't when I was a child, but I wouldn't believe her. When she moved in with me, I finally understood that she was a witch . . . and I was, too. Together, we found out our adoptive parents had inherited us from some distant cousin, but the records are vague. The house was given to our adoptive parents through a legal network that's been impossible to break through. That's why I started researching ancestries--trying to uncover mine--but my parents covered their tracks well."

  "So you never realized you were a witch?" he said, still amazed at her admission.

  "I should have since my ear drove me crazy sometimes."

  "What do you mean?"

  "After Rowan convinced me about being a witch, she explained that our ear burns as a signal when an unknown witch is nearby. The stronger the sensation, the stronger the witch."

  "Why did trees come down instead of the birds?" he asked.

  Her lips drew up to one side in a chagrined expression and she sighed. "Rowan is better than I am, but I'm learning."

  Trey lost his smile, reality just sinking in. "So you don't have control of your powers?" She could have dropped a building on the two of them while his mind was lost to everything except wanting her. Naked and hot.

  "Don't look at me that way. I'm not dangerous, just a half-bubble off sometimes," she groused. "Back to the original topic. What do you know about Ekkbar?"

  "Uh-uh. You were looking for him first. Why?"

  Her smooth brow puckered in thought. "How did you know I was looking for him first?"

  Damn. He'd screwed up. "I just know."

  "That will so not work right now."

  Might as well tell her. He'd have to at some point if they were going to catch this guy. "I had your phones tapped and heard you telling your sister you were going to find Ekkbar."

  "You what?" Sasha's jaw dropped. She jumped out of the truck. Trey was right behind, trying to catch her. Leaves blasted away from the sidewalk, taking refuge in the gutter.

  "Sasha, wait a minute."

  She rushed up the steps to her porch, shouting, "You tapped my phones? I know exactly what you are--a snoop. Go away."

  He snagged her an arm's length from the door and wrapped her up from behind, her back to his front. She struggled, elbows digging into his side. "Stop it and let me explain."

  "There's no explanation for spying on me, you bat dropping."

  "Bat dropping?" He started laughing. "You don't boil lizard tongues and eyeballs in a big cauldron out back, do you?"

  That was the wrong thing to say. She jabbed him with a hard elbow, banging his ribs.

  Trey lifted her off the floor until she quit kicking. "I'm sorry for tapping your phones, but I saw you leave the cemetery alone at night a couple days ago. I was worried about you."

  "Why would it matter to you after nine years?" she snarled.

  Trey lost his smile. He didn't want to tell her about all the other times, but he owed her more than a lame reason.

  He dropped his lips close to he
r ear. "Because I care."

  She stilled. Her heart pounded under his fingers.

  The porch light blinked on and the front door opened. Rowan stood before them in a flowing bloodred house gown and robe.

  Trey spoke on his cell phone and paced across Sasha's living room while keeping an eye on her and Rowan, both curled up on the sofa. Rowan looked more exhausted than possessed, but Trey kept close watch of her in case she changed.

  "Give me Findley," Trey said, asking for his VIPER field contact in Virginia. If the rest of that bunch escaped, every supernatural asset at VIPER, be it Belador or not, would have to fight the Kujoo army. Until then, one warrior did not warrant a team assignment from VIPER. The coalition of unusual beings functioned as a paranormal intelligence and defense force. Agents were deployed whenever a supernatural threat against the United States and other countries committed to peace arose, but Trey could handle Vyan with backup.

  What a mess this close to November second.

  When Findley came on the line, Trey explained the problem in general terms.

  "Why can't you get a Belador, McCree?" Findley said.

  "Nobody available," Trey lied. He could call in an army of Beladors, but felt certain that would play into the Hindu warrior's hand to put his whole tribe at risk. Trey's agreement with VIPER did not supersede his oath as a Belador. He wouldn't trust a covert agency full of supernatural beings with the fact that his tribe could be destroyed by this Hindu race.

  "I'll have to check around and get back to you."

  "I need an agent now." Finding Brina might have spared Trey this call, but she'd ignored his first telepathic message--prickly leader that she was--and he was fighting the clock. If he had to battle this warrior, he wanted to do so before tomorrow at midnight. On November second, All Souls' Day, Belador warriors suffered a loss of powers between midnight and dawn. The Hindu had to know this, which was why Trey needed backup to protect the women while he went hunting for Vyan.

  "You can't just call in for an agent without getting this approved as a VIPER mission," Findley countered.

  "Don't play red tape games with me. If we don't contain this and other warriors escape, authorization to send an agent into the field will be the least of your problems."

  "I don't have anyone in your area," Findley hedged.

  "I just want some damn backup."

  "Fine. I'll send you Lucien."

  "Lucien?" Trey started in a low voice full of menace. "I tell you we could be talking Armageddon if this gets out of control and you give me a new guy with an attitude?" He could all but see Findley bow up. Trey didn't give a rat's ass. He'd heard the scuttle on Lucien.

  "You're just a contractor."

  Trey stopped pacing. "One trying to save your ass along with the rest of this world so don't take that tone with me," he warned. Most agents around VIPER had the survival skills to back off when Trey was pissed, like now.

  After a slight hesitation, Findley said, "He's all I can get to you quick and he can only stay three days."

  Seventy-two hours? No problem. Trey intended to deal with this Hindu in the next twenty-four hours. "Send him. I'll call if I need anything else." He hung up and dropped the phone into his pocket then turned to Sasha and her sister.

  "Can you keep Sasha safe?" Rowan asked without preamble.

  "Yes," Trey answered swiftly, though he hadn't figured out how to protect her and keep his tribe out of a war. The thought of letting either down kinked his insides.

  "I can protect myself." Sasha jumped up from the sofa.

  "In that case, I'll stay here and out of the way unless you need me," Rowan told Trey.

  "That would make it easier for me to keep an eye on both of you," Trey said. What triggered Rowan's madness, and was she getting worse as Sasha suspected? That must be why the warrior wanted Sasha rather than Rowan, the stronger witch.

  "Hey, I am in the room," Sasha snapped at both of them.

  Rowan stood, her cardinal-red silk gown and robe swirling around her body. "I know you're here, sweetie. You're getting better at handling your powers all the time and will be powerful one day, but you're no match for this Hindu warrior right now." She hugged Sasha, wished them good night, and swept from the room with a soft, "Nice to see you back, Trey."

  "You still haven't explained everything," Sasha said to Trey and crossed the room to face him. "I've told you everything, including my deal with Ekkbar. Your turn."

  He'd dodged Findley, but Sasha was another story. He didn't like lying to her, but was limited in what he could disclose. "I can't tell you everything about me."

  She shook her head, the disappointment on her face too similar to the day he'd left her sitting on the porch. That cut deeper than he'd have thought.

  When she started to walk away, Trey grabbed her arm gently, drawing her to him so that he could whisper in her ear. "I was born under a star, chosen at birth to . . . to receive powers upon adulthood if I accepted my destiny, which I did. But I've taken an oath that includes not sharing anything about this group, my tribe. It's not that I don't trust you with the information. Not even my dad knows as much as you do at this moment and I trust him with my life."

  Sasha leaned back to face him. Her eyes lost all anger and softened. His heartbeats punctuated the wait while she studied his face, then gave a little nod and lifted a hand to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. The sweet gesture soothed the sharp edge of his nerves. She whispered, "I understand."

  One look into her eyes and he could tell she did understand. She'd always accepted him as he was, not trying to change him. No other woman had ever reached so far inside Trey the way Sasha had. If only they could be together, but now there were more hurdles than the telepathy. Brina was difficult on a good day. Fat chance she'd approve a match with a witch.

  "When will backup arrive?" Sasha asked.

  "Probably not before dawn."

  "You didn't finish what you started in the park." Sasha lifted toward him and Trey gave up the battle not to kiss her. He cupped her chin and lowered his head. Her arms entwined his neck, her lips meeting his. Before he knew it, she was in his arms, shifting her hips erotically against him. The heat that had flamed between them threatened to incinerate him from the inside out. Desire raged through every nerve in his body, fanning a hot ember of want so strong he shook with need.

  He'd never stopped wanting this woman, but after hurting her once by walking away, he couldn't allow this to get out of hand then disappear again.

  She broke away from his mouth and whispered, "Don't leave me tonight." With two fingers to his lips, she silenced him when he started to speak. "I know you're leaving Atlanta--and me--when this is over. I'll let you go, but I need you now. I want you now." Her amber eyes flared with determination.

  He wavered on the threshold of a decision he might regret for many years . . . no matter which choice he made.

  She licked her lips and mouthed the word "please."

  He closed his eyes and tried to convince himself to back away. He really did. Instead, when Trey opened his eyes, he captured her lips. Pleasure burst in his chest. She wanted him. Would understand when he had to leave again.

  How could he back away after that?

  When he scooped a hand under her bottom, Sasha's legs came up around his waist. She reached down and stroked his raging erection. He hissed at the contact, sure his growl shook the rafters. Not a wise move with her sister upstairs. The one who went into anti-Christ mode with no warning. Blood keened in his ears.

  "My room," Sasha breathed between kisses.

  "What about Rowan?"

  "Sleeps with headphones on . . . music helps."

  "What about Tarq?"

  "On a sabbatical somewhere. Trey, you're not moving."

  His feet heard her and strode to the rear of the house. When he carried her into the dark bedroom, her lips never left his as she waved a hand. Flames danced on candles arranged on a silver tray resting upon her dresser and soft rock music began to play.
Trey shut the door with his foot, then crossed the room to her four-poster bed where he lowered her to the deep blue satin coverlet. Of all the places he'd made love to her indoors and outdoors, he'd never touched her in this room.

  Trey paused and smoothed a hand over her cheek. "I don't deserve this--or you--and the last thing I want to do is hurt you . . . again."

  "I know. Stop worrying. I mean it when I say I'm okay with this and you leaving." Sasha rose up, unsnapped his pants, then unzipped the fly. She reached inside to grasp him then took him into her mouth.

  Trey sucked in a breath and croaked out a muttered curse at how close she came to sending him into oblivion. "Not yet, baby, or this won't be the long drawn-out affair I have in mind." He eased her back, shaking his head at her wicked grin, then shed his clothes with ruthless efficiency. Leaning a knee down beside her, he lifted the edge of her lacy top and worked it up the slender arms Sasha stretched above her head.

  "I'm so ready," she breathed out, but he was taking his sweet time.

  No bra. Just pure woman. His woman.

  When he had the filmy material at her shoulders he stopped, leaving her eyes covered and her arms bound, vulnerable. She purred in anticipation. Trey lowered his mouth to her breast, licking the tip then the soft underside with his tongue. Sweet.

  Sasha shivered and sucked in sharply.

  He slowly peeled off her snug pants, kissing the inside of her legs, which tasted salty where the warm scent of leather lingered on her thighs. So fitting for his wild woman who could be like buttery leather--tough and soft at the same time. He went back for the sliver of black underwear, lightly scraping his finger across the tight silk material shielding her folds.

  She quivered. Her fingers locked around the downy pillow beneath her head. Her chest curved up with the motion.

  Oh yeah, baby.

  Trey stretched out alongside her and grazed his fingers beneath the underside of her other breast, barely caressing the skin, gliding along the curves . . . near the beading tip, but not touching it. Her back arched, feet digging in, toes curling, but she hadn't cried uncle yet. He grinned, enjoying every sweet minute of taking her closer to the edge.

  She shoved her breasts higher toward his hand each time he came close to her nipple.

  Then he'd move just out of reach.

  Sasha's urgent moans grew into a warning growl. He smiled.