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

by Mina Carter

  Tears glittered on her cheeks as the faerie blinked out of existence, the last light in a world of haunting death. The last light he'd ever had. Emptiness roared through him. Isolation. Loss. Such a gaping chasm that hollowed him out, leaving behind only a raw wound of pain. Everything was gone. Marie. Dante. And now Matalan. Darkness seemed to press in around him, obscuring everything—

  "Ryland." Catherine's hand touched his arm. "Look at me."

  He dragged his gaze up to the angel before him. "Your eyes," he gasped. "They're so blue. How are they so blue?"

  She smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It wasn't a chaste kiss. It wasn't lust. It was connection and hope. It was an intimacy shared only between two souls bound together. Ryland sank his hand into her hair, and leaned his forehead against hers. Their noses were pressed against each other, their lips, their cheeks in a moment of silent connection. Of shared grief. Of mutual acknowledgment that the other was all they had to count on.

  He'd wanted words from Catherine declaring that she belonged to him, not Thano. He'd wanted her to promise the very connection that they were sharing in this moment, just as she'd wanted words from him that he would save her daughter. But as they shared breaths, he knew that he had the answer he'd sought. She was his, only his, on every level, regardless of the mark she carried on her arm. Words were not necessary. "You're my light," he whispered. "You're my hope. You're the goodness I've been seeking for so long."

  Catherine said nothing, but he felt a surge of warmth from her. The feeling she offered him was so breathtaking and so compassionate that it made him want to lift her in his arms, take her out of the darkness into a field of white flowers, and make love to her while the sun warmed their bodies and brought light into their souls.

  Ryland, she breathed. That's beautiful.

  He grimaced. You weren't supposed to hear that.

  No, it's lovely. I'm glad I did. She pulled back, her blue eyes so intense. I know who you are, Ryland. I know that making love in a field of lilies isn't a promise you can keep. But the mere fact you even thought it is one of the most beautiful moments I've ever had. Lightness in darkness. Hope in the face of despair. Beauty in the face of carnage. Thank you. She smiled. Maybe you're the angel, not me.

  He laughed softly, tugged at a lock of her chopped-off hair. You are one crazy broad.

  I know. You're no prize yourself.

  This time he laughed aloud. Humor in the midst of such darkness felt cruel, but at the same time, he needed it. "How are you feeling?"

  "Terrible."

  "Me, too." He looked past her. They were close enough to see the iron gates of the temple, and the fires burning around it. "Let's do this, sweetheart."

  She turned around, and she tensed. "My baby is behind those gates."

  Ryland climbed to his feet, his entire body still numb with weakness. "We'll get her." He reached for her, only to see the glitter of gold around his wrists. He swore, staring at the thick gold bands around his arms. His wrists were cuffed now. A cold stab of fear knifed through him, and his weapons burned in his arms, desperate to fight against a foe he couldn't even see.

  "Oh, no." Catherine grabbed his wrist, her fingers so small against the hard metal band. "Oh, my God, Ryland. They almost have you." She pulled open his shirt and they both saw that the collar around the beast's neck was a faint yellow, and the turquoise was completely filled in all the way to that point. Only the head was still black and white. She looked at him. "You have to go back."

  Fear hammered at him, but Ryland ground his jaw. He was so close. So close. The nether-realm was descending into so much darkness. How could he walk away now? From an innocent little girl? From Dante? "Do you sense Dante?" he asked, ignoring her order.

  She stared at him, then closed her eyes. He felt the air thicken as she reached out. She wavered, as if she were going to lose her balance, and he caught her, summoning all his strength to hold her up. Her eyes snapped open, and they were bright with excitement. "I do," she said. "His soul is in the temple." Regret flickered in her eyes. "He's suffering."

  Ryland swore and looked past her at the gates that had trapped him for so long. On this side, lay freedom. On the other side, lay slavery. And Dante. And Lucy. How could he possibly turn around and walk away, leaving the innocents behind? Too many had died because he hadn't protected them. It ended now. "We're going in."

  "But the cuffs—"

  He gripped her hand and started walking toward the temple, a ruthless, determined stride. "I owe Dante. I vowed to protect the Order. I will not walk way."

  "And Lucy?" She hurried beside him, her breath coming in weak gasps.

  His jaw flexed as he thought of Marie dying, and then Matalan. No more death. No more. "We're getting her, too."

  But even as he said it, there was a sharp stab of pain in his chest. He didn't look down to see what the picture was doing. "I think we need to run," was all he said.

  Catherine glanced at him, her face even paler than it had been. "I agree."

  Together, hands clasped, they summoned energy neither of them had, and sprinted across the wasteland toward the iron gates of hell.

  * * *

  They were almost to the Great Temple.

  So close that the heat from the pyres singed his skin.

  Ryland stopped, his entire body shaking violently as the massive iron gates loomed up in front of him. Beyond those gates lay the hell that he never thought he would escape. The one that had haunted his nightmares for centuries, until he finally believed it could never trap him again. And now he was back.

  His breath began to rasp in his chest, and he went down on his knees, fighting for oxygen. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands, his chest inches from the black earth. Fear seized him, a fear so deep that even the toughest warrior couldn't will it away. It assaulted him from every direction. Memories knifed at his brain. The same horrific feelings of helplessness came catapulting back to him, and his entire being howled with the anguish of it.

  "That's it," he rasped. "That's where it happened. Where they finally enslaved me. In the main room of the temple. Right there."

  Catherine knelt beside him, her touch on his back so fucking soft that he almost couldn't even register it. But he did, and he focused all his energy into that touch, using her to ground himself.

  "You don't have to go in—"

  "Fuck that. Of course I'm going in." His palms still flat on the ground, his elbows bent, he slowly raised his head, staring at the gates. "Today, the nightmare ends," he said softly as new energy and determination began to build inside him. No more fear. No more nightmares. Tonight, he took control. Tonight, it was his. "You get a read on Dante yet? Is he definitely in there?"

  She turned to look at the crumbling stone temple, and then a chill drifted through his bones, as if he'd sensed what she did. "Yes," she said. "His soul is in there."

  "And your daughter?"

  She shook her head. "I don't sense her."

  Ryland shoved himself to his feet and called out his machetes. "Sweetheart, when we get her back, we need to get that girl in a blood-bond so that we can always find her."

  Catherine stared at him. "We?"

  "You. I meant you." But even as he said the words, he knew it was a lie. He would never walk away from this woman, and that included everything that mattered to her. He was going to make damn sure that little girl was safe for the rest of her life. "Let's go." With Catherine following right behind him, Ryland moved silently up toward the gates. As he approached, they swung open by an invisible force, and the fires flared higher on either side, inviting them in.

  Catherine sucked in her breath. "They know we're here."

  "Of course they do." Ryland called out his machetes with a crack and a flash of black light as he began to walk toward the gates, forcing his resistant body to take each step. Closer. Closer. "They're banking on the fact that they're still stronger than I am. Than we are."

  Catherine moved close to him, but there w
as no hesitation in her gait. Just firm, unyielding determination. "Well, they've never messed with an angel of death who needs to protect her child," she replied, her voice low and calm. "And you're not the boy they once dominated. You're their nightmare coming back to take them down."

  He glanced over at her. Her jaw was jutted out, her hands fisted by her sides, her blue eyes blazing. Yeah, she was pale, and moved as if each step was a tremendous effort, but there was a dark, almost violent energy pouring off her. The angel of death has come to life, he said softly, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

  She looked over at him. I've been fighting my not-so-nice side my whole life. It's time to finally use it. She gave him a grim smile. I'm really not that nice, you know.

  He grinned. I'm not sure they have souls for you to take.

  Everything has a soul...until I come get it. Catherine reached the gates and looked up at them. They stood more than forty feet above their heads. "Mama's here, Lucy," she said into the darkness. "It's almost over."

  As Ryland watched Cat make promises to her daughter, a sense of deep longing came over him. The bond between Catherine and her daughter was incredible, evident in the depth of her words, in the emotion pulsing through her, in her absolute lack of fear. He could feel the intensity of her love, the absolute commitment of her entire being to that little girl. It was pure selflessness. Pure...love? Yes, it was. For the first time in his life, he was witnessing—and experiencing—the real thing. He'd never understood the power of it until that moment.

  Oh, he knew loyalty, the kind that was so deep that a man would give his life for it.

  He knew honor.

  But love...that was different...and it was fucking incredible. Without even thinking about it, he locked his hand behind Catherine's neck and kissed her. It wasn't a kiss of passion, lust, or even desire. It was a kiss full of what she'd been putting out into the world. He wasn't a soft guy. He wasn't kind. He wasn't tender. But in that moment, he strove to be all that. For this one instant, he wanted to offer Catherine that which she gave others, including him.

  She stiffened, and then kissed him back just as gently and sweetly. It was, he was quite certain, the very best, most hopeful, most beautiful moment he'd ever experienced...which was exactly what he needed before reentering his past.

  Catherine pulled back and gifted him with a smile so tender that he felt something tighten in his chest. "See?" she said. "I knew you had that softer side to you. You may not see the beauty of who you are, but it's coming out anyway."

  He pulled her tight, anchoring her against him as he buried his face in her hair. She hugged him back, and for a moment, he felt all her energy surge into him like a coat of protection, warmth, and purity. Together, they wrapped it around him, cloaking him in kindness and warmth, the only kind of protection that would serve him as he entered the domain of his former masters.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was actually only seconds, they released each other. Without another word being necessary, they simply turned and walked over the threshold together.

  * * *

  The moment Ryland and Catherine passed the gates, the wasteland they'd been walking in vanished into impenetrable darkness. In front of them appeared a stone staircase leading up to a massive archway in the center of the temple. Catherine kept close to Ryland as they climbed, reaching out with her mind for Dante. "Dante's spirit is in the building ahead," she told Ryland.

  Urgency drove Ryland faster. "How is he?"

  "Surviving." She didn't want to tell him that he was tormented and in pain, but from the grim set to Ryland's jaw, it was apparent he already knew what a soul trapped in the nether-realm would suffer.

  No sense of Lucy, which scared her, but at the same time, she knew it was right. Heaven help her if she ever sensed Lucy's soul, because that could mean only one thing: that her beautiful, innocent daughter was dead.

  The mere notion of Lucy's fate sent a chill of dark, terrifying horror through her, and she quickly shifted her thoughts. Envisioning her daughter dead would paralyze her. Instead, she imagined the look on her daughter's face when her mommy walked in the door. The feel of Lucy in her arms again. The sound of her daughter's voice. "Yes," she whispered, sudden strength rushing through her. "Is Lucy in here?"

  "She has to be." Ryland nodded. "The temple is the only place that has enough of a controlled climate to protect a small child. The rest of the nether-realm is too harsh. She's definitely in here."

  Anticipation rushed through Catherine as they reached the top of the stairs and two massive doors swung inward to admit them, decorated with bronze carvings of people dying so brutally that Catherine had to avert her gaze. She opened her mind to Ryland's, seeking his reassurance and strength. His energy flowed through her, a warmth that seemed to melt the fear gripping her heart.

  Despite her initial bravado about invading the nether-realm by herself, she had to admit, she was so glad he was here with her. So very glad.

  They walked through the doors, and Dante's soul became even stronger, pulsating with energy and pain. She looked around quickly, searching for the telltale haze of his aura, but she couldn't find it. Dante's in here, she said. Somewhere.

  We'll find him. There was no mercy or hesitation in Ryland's voice. Just the sheer, intense focus of a warrior on a mission.

  The towering doors swung shut behind them with a crash that made her jump. Ryland didn't move, keeping his gaze fixed ahead of them. Catherine followed his gaze, and then sucked in her breath in surprise.

  At the far end of the arched cathedral-like room there were two massive stone thrones on a raised platform. On one of them perched a regal woman clad in an all-black long-sleeved gown that seemed to slither over her as if it were alive. The only bit of color was a scarlet ruby between her breasts. Her hair was raven-black, her face pale as death, her eyes a brilliant jade green. Her aura was thick with black and purple, drenched with horrific things that made Catherine's stomach turn. As the woman rose to her feet, the entire room seemed to shrink away from her in fear, as if the stones themselves were afraid of her. "Balthazar," she said, her voice a throaty rasp of pure menace. "How nice of you to return."

  Ryland gripped his machete and said nothing, but Catherine could feel the battle raging within him. Penetrating terror. Vile hatred. Lethal force. An anger so fierce it threatened to burst out and consume them all. There was so much negative energy swirling through him, threatening to devour him. The golden cuffs on his wrists seemed to glow even brighter, as if the beast was gaining strength within him.

  Catherine moved closer and put her hand on his back. He jumped in a startled response, but then settled into her touch, never taking his eyes off the woman. "Desdria," he said softly, his voice taut. "Release Dante and the girl, and we will let you live for another day."

  Catherine was shocked by Ryland's offer. How was he possibly managing to control himself enough to propose a negotiation, instead of simply going after her? But she knew how he was doing it. Despite all the darkness inside him, there was a stream of decency so powerful that it could trump anything. Dante hadn't rescued him all those years ago. The angel hadn't rescued him. Ryland had rescued himself, with a little bit of help.

  Desdria laughed, a cackle that made the hairs on Catherine's arms stand up. "What a charming offer. I reject it."

  There was a loud clang, and suddenly Ryland careened backward, as if some giant invisible hand had snatched him by the back of the neck and jerked him off his feet. He slammed into the wall, and then chains exploded out of the stone, slamming into his cuffs with a violent rat-a-tat. Within a split second, thick golden chains were fastened to his wrist and ankle cuffs, binding him to the wall.

  With a roar of fury, he lunged forward, trying to free himself. Black smoke began to fill the air around him, and his skin began to glitter. "Ryland! Stop!" Catherine hurried toward him, then gasped as a golden collar appeared around his throat.

  "Oh, dear God, no." Catherine's h
eart stuttered in horror as a chain shot out from the wall, attached to the collar and then jerked him backward.

  He slammed into the wall with such force that the entire temple shook.

  Ryland. Catherine reached out with her mind, diving past the churning darkness in his mind. Don't lose control.

  Ryland pressed the back of his head against the rough stone, his eyes shut as he fought for breath. His shirt was hanging open, and Catherine could see that the drawing on his chest was completely filled in, except for the beast's eye. His body shook with the effort of maintaining control, but how could he withstand it? Adrenaline thundered through her as she felt Ryland's mind reach for hers. Cat. Help me.

  She knew instantly what he wanted. Not physical help. He needed something positive and good to counteract his terror and anger. I love you. The words appeared in her mind before she'd even thought them.

  Fear slammed through her. Oh, dear God. What had she just said? Horrified, she clapped her hand over her mouth as Ryland's eyes snapped open.

  He stared at her, and for a split second, his eyes were a bright blue. Not black. Not black? Then he blinked, and the black had returned. Had she imagined it? You are a foolish angel, picking me to love. But he didn't sound mad. His voice was actually reverent, almost disbelieving. Stunned.

  I didn't pick you. It just happened. Now that she'd said it, she could feel the emotions burning through her. It was the truth, a terrifying revelation, but at the same time, it felt incredible to put her faith in someone again.

  Her words still vibrating between them, she felt a new power rise within Ryland, a calm focus that seemed to be trumping the beast. Had her declaration soothed him? She couldn't help but feel pleased. His response to her was not a lie. If he'd said he loved her back, she knew now that those were just words. Anyone could say them. But for her words to give him the ability to pull himself back from the edge of demonhood? That couldn't be faked. She mattered to him. She didn't know how much or on what level, but she definitely mattered. Relief cascaded through her, and she felt almost giddy with relief. What now? Can you get free?