Kiss of Darkness

by Loribelle Hunt

  “No. If there’s an arbitrary age minimum, twenty-five is just as good as any other.”

  Gia nodded and Winter sensed her relief. Probably because she didn’t want to be the one to deal with Dupree if Kara was allowed to bond sooner than he expected. She sighed. He was going to have to get used to the idea pretty fast. Kara’s birthday was only a few months off.

  The table fell silent. Well, enough of the depressing shit. She almost snorted. Like it all wasn’t depressing at this point? She needed some good news pretty damned soon. Looking up she pinned Nadia with her gaze.

  “You have anything useful yet?”

  She frowned, shook her head. “No, Commander. I’m sorry. It’s a lot to go through. There were some—” she paused half a second, “—interesting things in the vault.”

  Winter arched an eyebrow at the expression on Nadia’s face, a mixture of hope and reluctance. “Interesting how?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to check yet, but I think we have some of the banned texts.”

  Some of the early records were forbidden to Order members. Winter was surprised Ben had any, and they probably weren’t the secret texts.

  “Will they help?”

  “I won’t know until I read them.”

  “I don’t have to emphasize the need for haste, I’m sure,” she muttered dryly, but everyone heard her. There were soft chuckles around the table.

  “Of course not,” Nadia answered.

  “Good.” She covered a yawn with her fist, met Gia’s and Nadia’s gazes. “Get a few hours sleep. We’ll meet again in the afternoon.”

  She carried her bowl to the sink and rinsed it out, aware of Marcus’s eyes on her every move. She had no idea what to do about him and right now wasn’t in the frame of mind to even attempt it. She’d never known demons to use their poison on knives, wasn’t sure what to make of one doing so now. It seemed to go along with the powerful warlord theory, a demon smart enough to adapt, and that worried her.

  She left the room without speaking, letting thoughts just flit through her mind and sift naturally. Was the poison on the knife diluted or had she built up some kind of immunity? The only way to test that would be to take another dose from the same source again, and she wasn’t keen on that idea.

  But her gut said she was building an immunity. She’d felt the poison on the blade as it sliced her skin, felt it start to slow her down, start to dull her mind and senses, but unlike the last time she’d been able to fight it off long enough to teleport out. Well, okay, to be honest if Marcus hadn’t been there, she might not have been able to get out. He’d held her power together when it had wanted to shut down.

  And it had shut down, but only briefly. Not nearly as long as the last time, not nearly as long as a full dose should have put her out.

  She pushed open the door to his room, not even bothering to fight the urge to cling to him. She could feel him behind her. Worried. Pissed as hell. Fighting didn’t seem worth the energy. Unbuckling her weapon belts, she put them on top of the dresser careful to set them down gently, no clanging. No noise. No scratching old expensive-looking furniture.

  Her head was pounding its disapproval. The last few days of little sleep and the most recent abuse, the new dose of demon poison, were making themselves known. She sat on the edge of the bed, unzipped and pulled off her boots, before letting herself fall back without removing her clothes. She closed her eyes, covered them with her hand against the glare from the overhead light that still got in.

  “Winter.”

  She sighed, but didn’t budge, didn’t uncover her eyes. “Could we do this tomorrow? I know you want to ream me out, but I’m just not up for it right now.”

  The bed dipped beside her.

  “You almost got yourself killed tonight. Again. We have to talk about this reckless streak of yours.”

  The light seeping through her fingers disappeared and she turned her head, lowering her hand. “Would you accept an ‘I’m sorry’?”

  He watched her, eyes tracing every line of her body, and he sounded distracted, not focused on what was supposed to be an argument. “No.”

  “How did I know you’d say that?”

  He sat and tugged her up too, carefully pulling the shirt she’d found in the office over her head. His gaze was hot, carnal. It seemed almost a physical stroke over her skin. With gentle fingers he traced the edge of the bandage crossing her body.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Like a bitch. But the awakening in her body more than made up for it. “A little.”

  He smiled. “Liar.”

  She shrugged. She didn’t want to argue; she wanted him to fulfill the promise his eyes were making. He got out of bed and stripped while she shimmied out of the rest of her clothes, but when he rejoined her he did nothing but gather her close. She rested her head on his chest and gradually relaxed into sleep as he rubbed her back in gentle strokes.

  She sighed contentedly. She could get used to this.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Winter knew it was a dream, knew this dream and smiled as she opened her eyes. She saw the white marble columns of the courtyard Marcus dragged her to in sleep when she was defenseless. But it wasn’t Marcus she faced when she turned.

  “David?”

  She could have sobbed. She’d looked for him in her dreams in the early years, but she wasn’t a dream walker. It wasn’t one of her skills. She only shared Marcus’s dreams because he was able to pull her in. This, the much beloved face before her, was nothing more than her subconscious at work.

  He smiled. “Are you sure about that, Victoria?”

  Startled at the use of the name she hadn’t heard in years, hadn’t associated as her own in decades, she took a step forward, cocking her head to the side to study the apparition. Her memory was stellar. He looked just as he had the last time she’d seen him. Well, before the demons had got to him. He was tall and broad, still sporting the buzz cut that had been so popular in the fifties. She’d often teased that he kept it so short to disguise the fact he was going prematurely bald. He’d just laugh at her and tell her she liked it.

  “Nothing to say? That’s not like you,” the dream David joked.

  “Well, it’s not every day your dead husband visits you in a dream.”

  He stepped closer and lifted his hand, drew one finger down the side of her face before cupping it with his whole hand. She turned in to the caress, the tactile sensation so real she wondered if maybe he was really there. No. Impossible.

  “Anything’s possible,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “I should have come sooner, but I hoped you’d move on without a push in the right direction.”

  She frowned. “What direction? What are you talking about?”

  Great. Even her dream life was filled with riddles and mystery.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “The nightwalker? Marcus? It’s time to let me go, sweetheart.”

  She jerked away. “If this is some kind of trick I don’t appreciate it.”

  It was cruel to toy with her like this. She’d kill Marcus. Dream David sighed.

  “It’s really me, Victoria. Your mind is strong enough to sense any subterfuge.”

  Jesus. He was right. Even asleep no one could mess with her mind this badly, so it all was just a dream, just a long-gone wish. She fought the urge to explain to David why she fought the connection she felt with Marcus, why she tried to keep him alive in her heart.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. Couldn’t take that risk again, couldn’t endanger anyone else anymore than could be helped. Because the truth was it was her fault. The demon who’d killed David had been stalking her and he got in the way.

  “Do you want forgiveness? I absolve you of the guilt you feel, Victoria.”

  This time she did sob and choked on the sound. He moved forward and brought her into the circle of his arms. A comforting embrace, a shoulder she’d known she could count on.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “It wasn’t.”
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  She didn’t agree, but she nodded, clinging to him as she felt herself beginning to wake.

  “Let it go, sweetheart,” he said, the last words she heard before he disappeared. She had the heart-rending feeling she’d never see him again. The dream had been a one-time deal.

  She slept the rest of the day undisturbed. When she woke, she felt lighter. She lay quiet for several minutes, unmoving, mentally examining her body for signs of trouble but she couldn’t find anything wrong. Had the dream David lightened the crushing guilt she always carried?

  Marcus’s arm tightened around her stomach. “You’re thinking of another man in my bed,” he growled.

  She cracked a smile. He knew he had no competition. He’d made damned sure of it. “My husband. He came to me in a dream last night.”

  Marcus rolled on top of her, nudging her legs apart so his hips, his erection nestled at the juncture between her thighs. He searched her face. Serious.

  “And what did he have to say?”

  Why had she told him that? And how should she respond to his question? She was careful to keep her thoughts private and could see that displeased him. She had to fight the urge to reach up and smooth the worry lines from his forehead.

  “He said he forgives me. And I need to move on,” she whispered, surprised at her honesty.

  If possible Marcus got even more still, more watchful. Finally he answered, as he pushed inside her, her sex hot and wet and welcoming. “He’s right.”

  She gasped as he moved deeper, grabbed his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his flesh as he withdrew and plunged back in. Deep. So deep she thought he might touch her heart.

  “Maybe.”

  Never. It wasn’t possible, was it? Her heart belonged to another, in the past.

  No, Winter, it’s mine. You just haven’t figured it out yet.

  She couldn’t argue with him when he was moving so deeply, so commandingly inside her, stroking her higher and higher. Winding her tighter and tighter. He quickly had her riding the edge of orgasm and with one squeeze of his fingers on her clit, pushed her over.

  She wasn’t sure if she came with her whole body or if it spread through her whole body, and she didn’t care. She just wanted it to never end. He gave her her wish. Still moving inside her, but slowing his strokes, he rolled to his side bringing her along so they faced each other. He kept one hand on her lower back holding her in place for his thrusts as he dipped his head to her breasts.

  He dropped soft kisses around the plumpness, avoiding her nipple as he switched to the other breast. She thought she’d go mad with anticipation and exploded with a second orgasm when he took one nipple between his teeth, humming mmm as he did. His thrusts grew stronger, roughened.

  Look at me.

  She looked up, knowing he wanted to hold her gaze as he came, wanted her to see the intensity he felt. What she saw made her catch her breath. The depth of his need, his desire was staggering, but there was also possession and tenderness and something so raw and earthy she couldn’t name it. Didn’t dare try. It was too much and her mind shied away from it, from the sudden fear she couldn’t escape him. Ever.

  No. There’s no escape.

  She didn’t argue, didn’t worry over his picking up the stray thought because she was coming again and she knew he was right along for the ride when she flew apart.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Marcus lay back against the pillows and tried to ignore the fact that Winter was only a wall away and naked under a stream of water. She needed a little bit of space. Not much because if he allowed her, she’d run with it. He grinned. Life would never be boring again. He could live without the demon fighting, not that he expected to be able to get her to retire from the Order for a long time to come. It was too much a part of her, the identity she’d forged for herself after her husband’s murder.

  Crossing his arms under his head, he stared at the ceiling and pondered his next move. What was she ready for? How far could he push her? The dream might be a good sign. It was possible sometimes to speak to the dead in the twilight realm of dreams, but since she wasn’t a dream walker she shouldn’t be able to call them to her. If that was the case, then the dream came from her subconscious nudging her to step into a new future, a future not tied to a dead man’s memory. Which meant she was more ready than she thought to move forward. He just had to convince the conscious part of her brain.

  The water turned off and he imagined her in the spacious bathroom drying off, wiping stray drops of water from her body. He’d be happy to do that for her. With his tongue. Standing, his cock rock-hard again, he went to the door and rested his palm against it a moment as he took a steadying breath before pushing it open.

  She stood in front of the counter with a large towel wrapped around her torso. With another she patted her hair dry, the heavy mass hanging long and loose to her waist. He stepped up behind her and leaned over, nuzzling her neck and taking in her scent. God, he loved the fresh woman smell of her. That maddening, elusive scent that was just for him. She poked an elbow against his stomach. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. He lifted his head and met her gaze in the mirror.

  “No time for playing. I have work to do.”

  He groaned. Why did he get stuck with such a stubborn mate, one who couldn’t even find a few stolen moments to play? She narrowed her eyes.

  “You definitely aren’t stuck with me. Feel free to leave any time you like.”

  He snorted as he stepped into the shower, turned the water on and adjusted the spray higher. Like leaving was an option?

  You’re my mate. You can’t walk away from that.

  So you say. I’m not buying. I’m still half human, remember?

  He didn’t respond. He’d convince her eventually. When she moved into the other room and dressed, he hurried to finish the shower afraid she’d try to sneak out again. He was relieved when she only went downstairs to the kitchen. He was right behind her and damned glad she’d insisted on working when he walked in.

  One of the new hybrid guests had cooked breakfast. He struggled to remember her name as she handed him a plate of bacon and eggs. He smiled.

  “Thanks, Kara.”

  They ate in silence and Luke, his expression surly, wandered in as they finished. None of the others were in sight, but Marcus sensed everyone in the house except Dupree.

  Problems? he asked his brother privately.

  Nothing I can’t handle.

  Which meant it had to do with the woman more than likely. What were the odds they’d both found mates among the hybrids where no one had ever thought to look before? It might explain their dwindling numbers over the past few centuries, the seclusion they’d forced on themselves, and a situation they’d kept as quiet as possible. How many mates had been lost because they hadn’t thought to look outside their own species? The lupines weren’t suffering the same fate; they’d always found some of their mates among the humans and hybrids. Once the current situation was resolved he’d have to look more closely at the problem and possible solutions.

  Gia came in as Winter was rinsing her plate in the sink and Luke shifted in his chair, the movement so slight it was hardly noticeable but Marcus felt the shift of watchfulness, alertness in his brother.

  The woman had a phone tucked under her ear and was writing on a clipboard. Still listening to whoever was on the other end of the phone, she handed the board to Winter who read it quickly before handing it back. Unclipping her phone from her belt, she stepped out of the room.

  He followed her into the hall and watched as she scrolled through the address book, finally finding the number she wanted. After a deep breath that lifted her breasts in a way that made his mouth water, she pressed the connect button and lifted the phone to her ear.

  He found an out-of-the-way place to lean against the wall while she paced and wondered what the hell was going on now.

  “Hey. It’s Winter.”

  She made a face at the long response, but
remained quiet. He stood too far away to hear the other side of the conversation. He could have taken it from her mind but wanted her to share the information on her own.

  “It’s under control…No, that won’t be necessary…Um, that’s under control too…Yes, sir…Of course…I’ll keep you posted.”

  She closed the phone with a loud angry pop at the same time Gia exited the kitchen, Luke right on her heels.

  “He’s pissed.”

  “You think?” Winter answered sarcastically then shoved a hand through her hair. “Sorry. Not your fault.”

  The air shimmered near the door as someone teleported in. He went on alert until he realized who it was, but didn’t entirely relax then either.

  Gia shrugged. “It is. I didn’t think to tell Timothy not to forward the report to the council.”

  “Why would you?” Dupree asked with an arched eyebrow as he approached. “Since when do we leave them out of the loop?”

  “Since things got weird,” Winter muttered. Marcus almost laughed. When had they not been strange?

  Dupree stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s not exactly unusual.” His gaze was sharp as he continued to watch her. “What else happened?”

  Winter looked at Gia who removed a page from her clipboard and handed it to the male hybrid. Marcus watched understanding flash over the man’s face, but refused to ask the question. Winter had to learn to trust him, to be forthcoming with him.

  “So it is Ben,” Dupree said.

  Winter shrugged one shoulder and kept her expression neutral but he felt her confusion and sorrow. And her determination. He fisted his hands. Damn it, it was killing him not asking. Luke saved him the trouble.

  “What’s going on?”

  Dupree handed the piece of paper to him and his brother perused it quickly while Dupree spoke. “Janet, Ben’s mate, was apparently dead before the attack. For several days.”

  Meaning there had been time for Ben to lose control, to give in to the demon who shared his soul. Winter wrapped her arms around her waist and paced around the foyer. He wanted to go to her, to gather her in his arms and comfort her, but knew she would rebuff the move, knew she didn’t want to appear weak in front of the others. He knew she was questioning her own strength even though she’d discovered how to keep her thoughts private. He’d been in her head enough to know how she worked. She finally stopped moving, but when she looked around the room her gaze only included Gia and Dupree.