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

by Mina Carter

  She pushed open the door and crossed the threshold. “No matter how humble, there’s no place like home,” she said as she let out a breath and quickly added, “come on in. Let’s get you laid down. Let the healing begin.”

  He could hear her irritation and knew she was simply tired and worried and more than a little confused. No matter how selfish it seemed, both the beast and the man were thrilled their mate was concerned. If he’d not been ready to drop to his knees, Rayne would’ve pursued the sweet scent of arousal that had been coming from Kyndel since he first opened his eyes.

  That will have to wait just a few hours.

  He stood waiting for her to tell him where to go, even though he could’ve easily found her room by scent alone. It seemed best to wait for her invitation. So much of what she would learn over the next few days was going to blow her mind. He saw no need in starting something until he could finish it.

  It was as if she’d read his mind when she motioned towards the hall. “Second door on the right is the master bedroom. The bathroom’s in there, too. Towels are on the shelf if you want to clean up before you ‘rest’.

  He almost chuckled at the exaggerated inflection she put on the word ‘rest’ but nodded instead. “Thank you so much for your kindness, Kyndel. I know none of this makes any sense to you, but I will explain everything to you once I’ve slept.” He hoped she could feel his honesty, because it would be the basis for their life together.

  “Well, like I said before, just don’t die on me. You look like a good wind could knock you on your ass right now. Get in there and do whatcha gotta do, since you’re so sure it’ll heal what ails you. I have my doubts, so all I’m gonna reiterate is… DO NOT DIE!”

  Rayne chuckled. “If I’m not mistaken, Kyndel, it sounds like you care about my well-being.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Whatever. I just don’t know how I’d explain the big dead man I just met to the police if you kick the bucket. So don’t, okay?”

  “I assure you, beautiful Kyndel, I will not die this night.”

  He watched her pupils dilate. The tip of her tongue left a tiny wet line across her bottom lip that he longed to follow with his own. He tried to work up the energy to at least take her to bed with him. Just holding her in his arms would be magnificent. However, it was useless. Silver coursed through his veins, and he’d lost way too much blood to do anything but sleep.

  “Get in there and get laid down. I’ll use the other bathroom to get changed then I‘ll bring you something to drink. Do you prefer water or juice? Sorry, I haven’t been to the store lately so the pickings are slim.”

  “Whatever you have will be fine.”

  He started to head towards the room, which meant walking right towards his gorgeous mate. He stopped just a few inches in front of her. She jerked her head up, and Rayne felt the force of the mating bond pulling them together. He imagined their hot and sweaty bodies entwined, unable to move from hours of enjoying one another.

  She cleared her throat, turned on her heel, and headed to the guest bath. He worked hard to keep from grinning. Rayne could tell the mating call was affecting Kyndel just as much as it was him. He once again lamented the fact that he was in such bad shape physically and could not at least explain their connection. He had to sink into the healing sleep for a few hours, if only to regain the strength he needed to claim his mate.

  Watching her turn into the hall bathroom and just before she closed the door, he called to her. “Kyndel, do not leave or answer the door while I’m asleep. There are people out there that seek to hurt me, and also you by association. Please just give me those few hours you promised.”

  She answered almost immediately. “Okay, but you have three hours then I want some answers, Rayne.” The emphasis she put on his name sent shivers running down his spine.

  I will never tire of my name on her lips.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. He’d used most of what little dragon magic he had left to place concealment wards around her home while they’d stood talking. If by some miracle the hunters were able to break through his enchantments, they would not be able to enter her home without an invitation from the inhabitants… he and Kyndel.

  He was sure from her quick response that she would do as he’d asked. She may not understand why, but it was all part of the mating call. One mate would never knowingly endanger the other. It was part of their unbreakable bond. But to be sure, he’d put a magical push in his command. Things were progressing quickly for them. Now to heal so he could claim the one the Universe made for him.

  Fate waits for no man, not even the bleeding.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Did that man just order me not to answer my own door?” she asked herself.

  “Yeah, he did, and you agreed without a second thought, girlie,” she answered herself, doubting her sanity for the umpteenth time since leaving work.

  This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

  At least she felt better in her own home and out of those crappy office clothes. Looking in the mirror, she realized her hair resembled a rat’s nest where a family of four had taken up residence for the winter. Dark circles under her eyes made it look as if she’d missed more than a few nights sleep and she looked pale.

  As she walked out of the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen, she thought back to the noises she knew she’d heard back at the park. Rayne surely hadn’t hit himself on the head. A wound that wicked was not self -inflicted. There had been so much more going on out there than she knew, and as soon as the sexy man in her bedroom was done with “his rest”, she was getting to the bottom of all the weirdness.

  With a glass of fruit juice in each hand, she headed to her room. Walking through the door, she gasped. Congealed blood matted his beautiful mane from a nasty head wound, but it was his back that made her want to cry. It looked like a piece of raw meat. Cuts, scrapes, and puncture wounds ran from his shoulders to his waist. Something horrible had happened to him while she stood just a few steps away, unsure what to do.

  She’d been worried for her own safety while Rayne was being beaten to a bloody pulp. He’d lain on that sidewalk for what seemed like forever while they discussed his need for medical attention, and he hadn’t complained at all. The pain must have been agonizing.

  Easing his pain was now her number one concern. She thought of the liniment her granny had taught her to make when she was a girl on the farm. A powerful homemade remedy designed to soothe everything from a paper cut to a third degree burn. Granny always said you could take the girl out of the country but you could never get the country out of the girl. That awesome old lady taught Kyndel everything she knew about medicinal herbs. What would cure a headache, indigestion, or help during childbirth, but most importantly, she’d taught her how to make her special ointment. Granny said their kin had always been blessed with the gift of healing, and for the first time, Kyndel was grateful for it.

  She remembered the time she’d offered to help a friend at school with an herbal tea for a stomachache. They had laughed at her and said in the big city, they had doctors for that type of thing. Kyndel never offered again, but she never gave up on what she’d learned. She kept a small herb garden in the window of her dorm room and told anyone that asked that it was her way to feel close to home. They bought her story and she was happy.

  Years later, she now had her own place. Even though it was rented, almost every inch of her backyard was filled with herbs and plants she used for Granny’s teas and tonics, but that was only a small part of why she planted everything from acacias to zinnias. More importantly were the beautiful, fresh flowers that brightened her day and the butterflies and birds that flittered about her kitchen window. Having her hands in the dirt grounded her, filled her with happiness, and kept the sadness at bay. Some days it was hard to know she was the only living member of the Masterson family.

  Leaving the past where it belonged, she set their juice glasses on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom. While there, she
gathered towels, a basin of warm water, and her jar of liniment. All she could think of was Rayne’s incredible strength. Yeah, he’d dropped off a couple of times, but she had a sneaky suspicion he’d never been unconscious. His reactions while injured were sharper than hers on a good day. Then he walked those four blocks as if nothing was wrong. Not stumbling or slowing, but keeping pace right beside her. It was almost as if he was used to pain. It hurt her heart to think he’d had a hard life. She hoped whatever he’d suffered had been for a good cause and thought maybe it was because of his job.

  Oh well, whatever his profession, he definitely has an iron will.

  With her arms full of supplies, she returned to his bedside, stopped, and simply stared at the huge man occupying most of her bed. He’d gotten some blood and dirt on her comforter, but nothing that wouldn’t wash out. Maybe she’d use that as an excuse to buy the white comforter with pink and lavender hyacinths she’d seen in the Anthology catalog. Something to think about later. Right now, she had to get her pleasantly round ass on the bed and tend to her patient.

  She snorted to herself, “Pleasantly round ass… Yep! That’s me.”

  I really am a goofball.

  “Okay, big guy, I’m going to wash this dirt and blood off your back, then get some of this liniment on your wounds. I’ll get you all fixed up. We need to get that grossness out of your pretty hair, too.”

  Is it wrong to call a man’s hair pretty? Oh, who gives a crap anyway? Not like he can hear me. I really have lost my mind!

  It was not enough she had a stranger in her home, who was hurt and spread across her bed, but she was talking to his unconscious ass, too, while he was completely dead to the world. “Oh shit, bad choice of words,” she snorted.

  He most definitely was not dead, and she’d threatened him within an inch of his life to make sure he did not die while in her home. The closer the time came to touch his back, the more her hands shook. It also felt like butterflies were having a party in her tummy. She knew she was being silly, but couldn’t control her crazy nerves.

  He was injured and needed her help, not to be groped. Not that she would’ve done that, even with an invitation. She was raised better than that. Kyndel Masterson was a lady.

  A little drop of sweat ran down her spine, and it was then she realized what she’d originally thought was nerves was actually anticipation. The little voice in the back of her mind was telling her once she laid her hands on him, things would never be the same. It was like the little voice knew something she didn’t.

  “He’s just a guy,” she reasoned.

  “Yeah, but he’s a mouth-wateringly gorgeous guy,” she answered herself, thinking she’d had more conversations with herself in the last few hours than in her whole life, but kept going anyway.

  “But he’s still just a guy, Kyn. A guy that had a bad experience and needs your help.”

  Pep talk complete, she placed the basin of warm water next to his shoulder, then scooched herself until she was sitting Indian style with her knees next to his hip. She dipped one of the washcloths into the warm water that she’d added some of her granny’s herbal bath oil to. The ingredients in the oil, along with the liniment, would help with some of the soreness. She gently wiped across his shoulders, then rinsed the washcloth in the basin, repeating the process until the water in the basin was yucky. Scooting off the bed, she grabbed the bowl and headed back to the bathroom for clean water and more clean cloths.

  When she returned, she was pleased to notice his wounds looked less harsh, almost like they were already closing, but surprised it was happening so quickly. Either her herbs were super charged or he had some kind of kicked up healing power. She refused to believe “resting” was all it took for him to heal like he was.

  Once again, she carefully climbed on the bed, resuming her position from before. She worked to wipe all of the gross blood and dirt mixture from his back. When she looked at the basin of water, something seemed to sparkle. It was like there were flecks of glitter mixed with the muck coming off his back. Definitely not what she expected to see. Question one hundred and fifty two to be answered when Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome Rayne whatever his last name was woke up.

  With his back finally clean, Kyndel threw the dirty rags in the laundry basket and dumped the last of the water down the drain. She grabbed a few gauze pads and the butterfly strips from her first aid kit for his deeper wounds before heading back to her patient.

  This time, she sat on her knees by his waist, needing the extra height to reach all the way across his wide shoulders. Taking the lid off her liniment, she inhaled the wonderful scent of healing herbs. It was fresh and clean and reminded her of Granny. Just the smell relieved some of her tension and loosened her tired muscles.

  Scooping some of the ointment into her hand, she rolled her shoulders to relieve the rest of the tension caused by this man’s abrupt arrival into her world and the craziness that had ensued. Looking down at his back, she decided where to start and two things became apparent. First of all, he had many scars from many different times and a wide assortment of weapons. This man was definitely a fighter of some sort. Kyndel only hoped he was one of the good guys. Two, his wounds were most certainly closing up, on their own.

  There had been quite a few deep lacerations and puncture wounds, which required at least a bandage, if not butterfly strips. Between her last trip to the bathroom and now, they looked like nothing more than scratches. She really wanted to know what made him heal so quickly. But of course, he would have to be conscious for her to get the answers she needed.

  Kyndel rubbed her hands together, warming the liniment. Carefully, trying not to wake him, unable to bear the thought of causing him any more pain, she leaned over his back. Her hands had barely touched his right shoulder when the electrical current she’d experienced the first time she touched Rayne happened again. This time, with more force and direction, landing deep in her womb.

  She gasped. Her hands flew from his back and she sat staring, looking for anything to explain the shock she’d just received. Kyndel decided she must’ve shuffled her feet across the carpet on her way out of the bathroom. Of course, that didn’t explain the jolt she received in her lady parts, but it pretty much went along with all the other weirdness that had happened.

  Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulder again. Once again, the current raced through her. Her nipples pebbled against the lace of the camisole she wasn’t sure why she’d left on. It was usually one of the first things to go after her blouse, but tonight she felt like she needed an extra layer of protection. Like armor against the draw of the man before her.

  I am delusional. I need sleep. My imagination has a mind of its own tonight.

  Ignoring the sensations racing through her from touching Rayne, Kyndel began rubbing the ointment into his shoulder and across his bruised ribs. The force of the attack was still evident in the deep purple bruising that decorated his skin. She just knew he’d given better than he’d gotten. This man did not lose a fight. It was something she believed with all her heart.

  Rubbing the liniment into his wounds, she became mesmerized by the feel of his war-roughened skin against her palms. The warmth created by their contact seemed to soak into every fiber of her being. She could feel him everywhere.

  A myriad of textures in the beautifully battered skin along his massive shoulders became evident. It tickled the pads of her fingers. Some spots felt softer on the surface but firmer underneath, almost like a scar. The vision of him as a Guardian, a Commander of warriors, someone who’d seen numerous battles, flashed in her mind, explaining the scars and any other old wounds she encountered while she tried to help him heal.

  Kyndel didn’t even question the image of him leading men into battle as it played out in her mind. It was just a belief planted firmly in her mind, growing into something much larger the longer her hands were on his body. His skin warmed even more. Some of the marks became more predominant.
It seemed as though they were taking shape.

  As she focused on a particularly intricate set of lines, it took on the appearance of a large wing wrapping up and over his left shoulder. She followed the lines as they swooped down into a large, powerful body with a beautifully massive wing coming out the other side. The picture taking shape before her eyes was mesmerizing.

  Glancing to the right, she noticed a fantastically majestic face. The creature’s eyes met hers with a flash of recognition and a caress of reassurance. It was a melding of souls, the calling of like to like. All terms that were knew to her but felt right, given the situation.

  Enthralled with the immerging picture on his back, she almost missed the slight movement of her warrior in his sleep. She checked to see if his eyes were still closed. The movement pushed her breasts into the top of his arm. She swore she heard a rumble from deep in his throat. Not really a growl, more like a purr of contentment.

  Not willing to break the contact, Kyndel admired his face. It had surely been sculpted by God himself. Inhaling, she drew his scent deep into her lungs. That single, complex aroma reminded her of the breeze right after the rain mixed with something wonderfully spicy. Without thought, she drew more into her being, simply holding it there… savoring it. The image of sweat-soaked bodies wrapped around one another and pushing to their mutual release swamped her consciousness.

  She inhaled again as her eyes slid shut. Her breasts grew achy and heavy. Her juices began to flow. She squeezed her legs together to stem the ache growing there. Her eyes snapped open.

  There was that sound again.

  His back vibrated against her chest. Her nipples grew even harder against the lace of her camisole. The ache inside begged to be quenched. Pushing closer still, she placed her lips on that special spot where his neck met his shoulder. She longed to part her lips and taste his flesh with just the tip of her tongue. She paused, not sure one taste would be enough. It stood to reason he’d taste even better than he smelled.