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

by Mina Carter

  Olivia finished her hair and started wiping off the day’s makeup. “It just feels wrong. We’re capable of protecting ourselves. We’ve trained with the best.”

  Red started brushing her teeth, “We can…,” she talked in between brushing, “so could Jerrell and Libby, and look where they are now.” She spit and then gargled. “Pride comes before the fall, Liv. I, for one, don’t have any desire to fall. If the PBI can help us survive, I’ll take it.” She exited the bathroom and climbed into the small, twin-size bed.

  Olivia finished brushing her own teeth and then joined her in the bedroom. “You’re right. I just wish we could do more.” She climbed into bed after turning out the main light. There was a small amount of silver moonbeams that filtered through the tiny window, just enough to light the room in an eerie glow. “I’m so sorry, Red. Jerrell was a good man.”

  “The best.” Red felt herself get choked up and had to pause before she continued. “Thank you.”

  “At least you have something of him left.” Olivia whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  Olivia turned to face her friend. “The baby.”

  “I’m pregnant?” Red asked, surprise evident in her voice.

  “You don’t know?” Olivia looked confused. “I’m sorry, I just thought you were aware.”

  Red rubbed her hand over her stomach as a smile spread across her lips. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. This dragon’s nose knows how to sniff out treasure.” They both giggled at the half-hearted attempt at humor. They’d been through so much together, and both knew they would be friends until the day they died.

  Red’s laughter turned into tears.

  “Why are you crying?” Olivia asked.

  “Jerrell is going to have an heir. I just wish I had known and told him before he died. He was the last in his family line, and couldn’t wait to get started on creating our own little cubs.” She smiled into the darkness praying he could still hear her. “I wish I could’ve told him he was going to be a father.”

  Chapter Seven

  Davis took a breath as he re-entered his body from his out-of-body experience. The military term was Remote Viewing, but his family had always called it spirit walking or astral projection. Craig sat across the darkened room, the glint of a dagger bouncing up and down on his thigh as he rotated it in his hand. A nervous habit he did when he was impatient.

  “What did you find?” He asked coldly.

  Davis tried to block the telepath’s probe into his mind, but he couldn’t keep Craig out. He was never able to put the wall up fast enough when he returned from a search. He knew there was no sense in lying. It was a test the madman performed every time he returned. Davis sighed. “I found her.”

  “I know.” A gleeful smile spread across his lips. “Is she really pregnant?”

  Davis closed his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Well, now, that leaves us with a problem doesn’t it?”

  Davis glanced over and nodded his head. He wasn’t sure where Craig was going with this, but he was interested enough to find out.

  “The baby isn’t on our hit list.”

  “And Red is?”

  “MacKenna, yes. I guess we’ll have to wait for her to give birth, but what about Olivia? I see she was there.”

  He was able to pull his scattered thoughts back together and put the blocks in place, but not before Craig caught sight of Olivia. Damn!

  “Is she on the list?” Davis asked, hopeful that he would say no.

  “Yes.” Craig stood up and walked across the room. “So, tell me Davis, how are we going to kill her?”

  Chapter Eight

  Devon watched as Red and Olivia settled into their bunks at the agency compound. He put them in an apartment on the base to make things easier to manage. Here, he could watch them from the security cameras and avoid having to carry on conversations with the hot-tempered women. Not to mention, they’d have difficulty getting into trouble if they were in lockdown. Karma was out searching for the last member of their team, Sebastian, and Jasmine was getting his quarters ready for his arrival. Frankie and Fang were in Washington, and Persephone and Tucker had called when they arrived in Colorado. So far, the mission was running successfully. Now they needed to figure out the mystery.

  Why were these killers targeting the Order operatives, and how were they overpowering such strong opponents. He wished he had more motivation to solve this case, but his mind was on a constant loop over the things that happened in the last few months. It was difficult to control.

  Ever since the Amazon’s neutered his ability to harm others, and took his flame from him, he’d been in a downward spiral. The loss of Sarah only compounded the pain and sorrow that seemed to move into his soul and take up residence. He didn’t want the hassle of dealing with this case, but he also couldn’t stand wallowing in his own self-pity anymore. It was time to start living again, at least, living as much as an undead vampire could.

  He’d find Sarah someday, and when he did, he’d make sure that she would never leave his side. This case would be the first step in freeing himself from the abyss of despair he seemed to live in lately.

  “They are all set up in their apartments.” Jasmine smiled as she entered the surveillance room. “So what’re your thoughts on this case?” She asked as she sat down next to him.

  “I don’t know, Jasmine. There is obviously a correlation between the deaths, but I can’t think of what paranormal creature could be involved. It has to be someone who has mind control and the ability to get into difficult locations without being seen. There are plenty of creatures that have those powers separately, but none that I can think of that possess those abilities together. Unless, maybe the Gods are meddling, but that seems unlikely since the Order worked for the Fates, and no Gods want to piss of the Fates.”

  “Who knows what the gods would or wouldn’t do? They’ve done some crazy stuff in the past.” Jasmine smiled as she eased into the seat next to Devon. “Maybe we should engage the Alien Bureau as back up?”

  “Maybe. But I want to wait until we have more details before we muddy the water by adding agencies getting into the mix.”

  Jasmine nodded. “Smart.” She turned her attention to the surveillance screens. Both of their guests were already in bed. “How are you holding up?” She asked.

  “On which part? The fact that I’ve been neutered or the fact that my flame is part of the group that did this to me?”

  “Both facts.”

  “I’m doing as best as can be expected.”

  Jasmine laughed. “No, you’re not. What’s expected is that you go on a tirade or focus on destroying everything in your path. If my mate had betrayed me the way Sarah did you, I think I’d go crazy.”

  “You haven’t found your mate.” Devon said pointedly.

  Jasmine shook her head. “I’m not the topic of conversation here. I’m trying to say, what’s not expected is how you’re acting.”

  “I can’t hurt another living or un-living being for that matter. Who is left to destroy?” It was a rare moment when Devon showed weakness. This was one of those incidences, and if he hadn’t been close to Jasmine for the last twenty-something years, he wouldn’t have revealed that inner turmoil at all.

  “You can join me in the gym. I’ll let you beat on my training dummies.” Jasmine offered after placing a comforting hand on his.

  A half-grin spread across his lips. “At one time, that might have been enjoyable.”

  “And now?”

  He shook his head. “What’s the use?”

  “To beat you out of your depression.” Jasmine was known for two things, her ability to train anyone to be a warrior, and her bluntness. He appreciated both of those attributes.

  “Vampires don’t get depressed--”

  “No, you just brood.” She rolled her brown eyes.

  Movement on the screen caught both of their attention. They turned their gazes to the television just in time to see Red sit st
raight up in bed. She looked as though she was talking to the air. Her hands were animated and flying, and her face held an expression of anger.

  “What in the hell?” Devon watched as his charge continued her rant at thin air with her eyes closed. She pulled an ominous looking dagger out from under her pillow and swung it at nothing.

  Olivia was awakened by the commotion. There was no audio in the room, but it was obvious to Devon and Jasmine that something ominous was happening. Olivia hopped out of her own bed and took a fight-ready stance. She was speaking to Red, holding her hands out in defense as Red climbed out of the bed and turned toward Olivia, eyes now open, staring right through her friend.

  “Sleepwalking, maybe?” Jasmine watched, frozen as Red turned her dagger toward Olivia.

  “Shit!” Devon sounded the alarm and dashed out of the room. The alarm pulled Jasmine out of her horrified trance and she raced after him.

  “Red, honey, you’re dreaming. Put down the weapon.” Olivia used a calm voice. She made the mistake of thinking she was safe, and had left her weapons in the suitcase that was now under the bed. It was a rookie mistake and one she knew better than to do. There was no way she’d get to her weapons before Red could do some serious harm.

  “You won’t get me. I won’t let you kill me like you did Jerrell.” Her voice was bitter with anger. It was like she was looking at an enemy not a friend.

  “Red, you do know it’s me, right? Olivia?” She held her hands out in surrender. Her only real chance at survival would be to escape the room only Red had cut off that escape route. The dagger whizzed through the air and she jumped back to escape the blade, landing on top of the bed, with moments to steady herself before another slash of the metal breezed across her midsection, this one cutting the skin of her torso. It was a flesh wound, but increased the intensity in the room a hundred fold. It meant she was out for blood.

  Her attack put Olivia on the defense. Her body responded by pumping adrenaline through her veins. Her eyes zeroed in on her target. Fangs protruded in her mouth. The demon that shared her soul would fight even if the human half tried to spare her friend.

  “Why did you kill him?” Red asked, jabbing the dagger toward Olivia’s heart.

  “I didn’t kill him.” Olivia insisted, dodging her partner.

  Whoosh! The over-sized dagger cut through the air barely missing Olivia’s neck. The wicked glint from the knife taunted her. Olivia readied herself for an opening. She needed to get the weapon out of Red’s hand and then figure out what was happening.

  The door swung open and Devon stood at the threshold. Jasmine arriving moments afterward. “Put the weapon down, Red.”

  “No, they killed Jerrell. Now they are going to die at my hands. Eye for an eye.” Tears fell down Red’s cheeks. She pointed the weapon at Olivia, then at Devon. She was confused as to who she should attack first.

  “Look at me, Red.” Devon snapped.

  Her eyes flitted to his. It was all he needed to use compulsion. He may not be able to physically hurt someone, but he could use his power of persuasion to control the situation “Drop the dagger.”

  She did. The metal hit the cement floor with a clang.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” Devon told her.

  “No, no it’s not!” She grabbed her neck and started choking. It was like an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of her.

  Olivia ran to her friend and tried to pull her hand away from her throat. “Breathe, Red! Breathe!” She managed to get the hand from the throat, but Red continued to act as though she was being strangled. Moments later her legs crumbled and she fell to the floor in a heap gasping for air. Desperate to survive.

  Olivia moved behind her to do the Heimlich thinking maybe she was somehow choking on something.

  Jasmine crossed the room and slapped Red across the face. “Wake up!” She demanded.

  Red’s face had a handprint the color of her name on her cheek and her eyes sprung open like a Jack in the Box popping out, but she was breathing. Gasping for air, but breathing again.

  “Why did you do that?” Olivia asked angrily.

  “Because she was being attacked by a dream weaver.” Devon supplied the answer.

  “A dream assassin?” Olivia spoke the words Red obviously couldn’t. They both exchanged looks and shook their heads. “Impossible.”

  “Then you explain what happened.” Devon crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door jamb.

  “I was protecting Olivia.” Red spoke, her voice raspy from the attack.

  “From what we saw, you were attacking Olivia and she has the scars to prove it.” Jasmine pointed to Olivia’s bloodied torso.

  Red looked at her with confusion swimming in her green eyes. “But… I was… oh…” She turned and placed her finger over the crimson red stain on her friend’s top. “I did that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me.” Olivia insisted.

  “I’m so sorry!” She looked around frantically. “There were two men in here. I was attacking them. They said they were going to send you to the afterlife.”

  “I’m more worried about figuring out what happened.” Olivia told her using a tone a mother would use with a child.

  “No, they were here!” She insisted. “I swear it!”

  Chapter Nine

  Frankie and Fang entered the police department in the small town of Lankston, Washington. Both were tired and worn down, but mutually focused on getting the answers they needed and getting back home. Neither one wanted to discuss what happened on the jet. It was a quaint little office with only a receptionist, a handful of deputy desks, and an office in the back. Any interrogation rooms and jail cells had to be behind the sheriff’s office.

  It wasn’t surprising the place was practically empty. Lankston seemed like the kind of town that rolled up the sidewalks at midnight. A speeding ticket was probably a big event in this place which meant a murder would be equivalent to a Hollywood superstar visiting.

  The heavy-set woman with black, polka dot glasses gave them a dirty look for interrupting her reading of some gossip magazine. “Can I help you?” Her snooty tone was off putting, but they ignored her.

  Frankie pulled out her badge. “We’re with the federal government, and we’d like to talk to the sheriff, please.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” Frankie swore if she closed her eyes she’d see the female equivalent of Steve Urkel when the receptionist, whose name plate read Ethel, spoke. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard to her senses.

  Frankie and Fang looked around the empty office. There was only one other deputy in the medium space behind the receptionist. He was thumbing through the newspaper, his feet resting on the desktop, and leaning back in his chair so far that if the wind blew through he’d topple over backward. There was a shadow in sheriff’s office. The man was also comfortably behind the desk on the landline phone.

  “No. Do we need one?” Frankie asked.

  “The sheriff’s awfully busy today. I’m sure he won’t be available.” She clicked on her computer screen. “I have some times open tomorrow.”

  Frankie leaned over the counter and brought herself eye level with the woman. “What part of we’re with the government do you not understand?”

  “I understand perfectly. What part of he’s not available right now do you not understand?” She struck back coiled like a viper on the verge of sinking her fangs into her target who, at the moment, was Frankie.

  Fang shook his head, grunted, and breezed past her desk. He didn’t speak, he simply headed straight back to the sheriff’s office. He knocked once and didn’t wait for invite before entering. Frankie followed him. The irritating receptionist buzzed behind her like an angry queen bee all the way to the threshold of her boss’ office.

  “What the hell?” The sheriff, a man in his late forties, possibly early fifties if the grey around his temples was any indication, jumped out of his seat surprised, his coffee spi
lling on his lap. “For Christ’s sake, Ethel! I said I was not to be disturbed.” He turned bitter eyes her direction.

  She recoiled backward like someone who’d been burned by a hot stove. “I’m sorry, Sheriff Martin, but they just barged in.”

  He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “That’s fine. Can you please call my wife and have her bring me a new pair of pants?” He both asked and dismissed her with the same sentence. Sighing heavily, he turned to his unwanted guests. “What makes you two so important that you can’t make an appointment like everyone else?” He zeroed hazel eyes on Fang, avoiding Frankie completely.

  Frankie pulled out her identification and flashed it his way. “We’re with the federal government. We’re here to look into the case file of Jerrell Jackson, and talk to the investigating officer that proclaimed his death an accident.”

  “I did that investigation. We don’t get too many deaths by wood chippers out here.” Sarcasm dripped from his words like honey from a spoon, and it was just as sickly sweet.

  “We’re talking about someone who is dead.” Frankie reminded him, hinting he should be a little more professional.

  “Right, and like I said, his passing was a little unusual.” Sheriff Martin walked over to the file cabinet and pulled out a manila folder, passing it over to Fang. Then he walked into the restroom next to his office and started wiping his pants down in an attempt to dry them.

  “Excuse me, but isn’t it unusual for the sheriff to handle the investigation himself?” Frankie asked, she was like a dog with a bone because this man’s behavior was setting off alarm bells in her mind.

  “It is, but Jerrell was well connected, and when the suits came in from Washington, I figured I better take the case myself.” He came out, a tad less wet than before he left the room. “As it was, the case was cut and dry. He was drinking, blood alcohol level was off the charts, and the idiot passed out in the chipper. We believe he thought it was a bed, covered himself with the tarp as one would do with a blanket, and when the men came in to work the following day, and turned on the machine, he became Chop Suey.”