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

by Mina Carter

  His body was so close that if I were alive, I would’ve been able to smell his masculine scent, feel his heat, lean on his strength and so many other things I wanted so badly.

  “Can these Enforcers see through walls?” He put both hands on my shoulders.

  I peered up at him and shook my head, the words tumbling out that might allow me to stay. With him. “The safest place I can be is my apartment.”

  He looked confused.

  “A shade’s haunt is their haven,” I explained. “Inviolate. Not even a Progeny can enter without having permission.”

  “Then this is the best place for you to be.”

  I stared back into his piercing blue eyes, thinking that being here with him was far, far from safe, but not for the reasons we were discussing. “Maybe. I’m not so sure lately.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because something is happening to me. I’m changing somehow. And I’m afraid that might attract unwanted attention.” I paused to pull in a breath. I needed to tell him enough of my story so he could understand. “It doesn’t matter anymore since I’m dead, but my father is Bacchus. One of the Progeny. An experimental one. The story is that Zeus loved his mortal mother so much that he wanted to have a child with her. Up until then everyone believed it was impossible for a mortal to conceive with an immortal. But Zeus found a way. He brought her the nectar of the gods every day until she got pregnant, and then every day after that so the pregnancy would take and so that her child, my father, would be born as an immortal Progeny. As a child of a Progeny, I would have become immortal, too. But before I could turn, the ribbon of immortality, the part of every immortal that contains the Creator’s pure magic, the part that fuels the transformation process, was stripped from me.” That, and so much more. “But since you’ve been here my form is becoming more substantial, and when my emotions are high, my eyes glow.”

  “I’ve seen that. I thought it was a normal ghost thing.”

  “It’s not. It’s strictly an immortal thing. It shouldn’t be happening to a shade. Nor should my shape solidify without me even trying. Morpheus took off tonight. Just before you summoned me. To try to find some answers.”

  “So he’s not around to protect you when you go back underground?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then you stay here,” he stated emphatically. “Twenty-four seven.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “A shade has to stay underground when the sun comes up. Most Dark Progeny and their Offspring don’t tolerate the sun well. The same way the Light Progeny and their Offspring shun the night. The moon calls the Dark Immortals to rise. The sun calls the Light Immortals to wake. But it’s something much more serious than that for me. I have to go underground when the sun comes up. It’s not just a matter of tolerance or choice.”

  “Another rule?”

  “Yes, truly, but this rule has an immediate consequence. If I’m not underground when the sun comes up, I’ll disappear. Completely.”

  “Then what happens?”

  “Since I’m already dead?”

  He nodded.

  “I would just be gone. Because of the type of shade I am. I’m a desecrated one. The lowest class. Neither Dark nor Light Progeny nor their Offspring want to have anything to do with someone like me.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. It was worse than when I was alive and struggling to find a place to belong. In the immortal world I didn’t fit in anywhere. If Morpheus hadn’t befriended me I’d be completely alone. “Other types of shades, if they complete the task that’s kept them in the In Between and are re-judged to be worthy, are able to cross the River.”

  Billy nodded as I explained, his keen expression turning even more intense. “Is that where your fiancée went? Did Shane cross the River…without you?”

  My non-existent heart torqued painfully. “I don’t want to talk about this.” I tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his hands slid to my upper arms holding me in place.

  “Answer the question, Thyme,” he insisted firmly.

  “No, of course not. Shane wouldn’t do that.” I shook my head in denial, even though he was only phrasing the same question Morpheus had asked many times before. I closed my eyes shutting him out and hiding the strong emotion I knew had to be flashing within them. “He wouldn’t hurt me like that. He wouldn’t. He loved me. I know he did.”

  “Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did,” he suggested softly. I opened my eyes diving into sympathetic pools of blue. “Is there some another alternative you haven’t told me? Where else could he have gone?”

  I shook my head. I knew there wasn’t. But if I admitted to myself that Shane had gone on without me that meant I had to face my worst fear. That the problem wasn’t him. That it was me. Always abandoned. Never good enough to hold onto those I loved.

  Dropping my chin, I slid through his firm grasp and sank to my knees on the floor. He dropped down in front of me and I looked directly into his eyes, letting it all out, letting him see the vulnerability, trusting him the way he’d trusted me with his darkest truth. “Why, Billy?” I reached for him, pulling myself into him, craving his strength, wrapping my arms around him, chin into his neck, and my fingertips desperately gripping his muscled shoulders. I needed someone to hold onto. Someone I could rely on with the world sliding out from under me. I needed him. I squeezed my eyes shut, tightening my arms, trying to calm the raging tempest of pain inside. “Why did Shane leave me?” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

  “I have no idea, Thyme.” He tucked my face deeper into his strong shoulder, fingers gliding into my hair, holding me in place with one hand while stroking my back with the other. “But I’ll tell you something I do know.” He paused his voice dropping significantly lower. “If you had been mine I would’ve moved heaven or earth or hell or wherever. Whatever I needed to do. I wouldn’t have let anything keep me away from you.”

  Chapter 26

  Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. - Robert Frost

  Thyme

  I blinked up at him, speechless in the force of his strong masculine declaration. Was he speaking in broad generalities about the type of man he was? Or was he saying something much more?

  I desperately hoped the latter because that would mean the depth of his passion might match my own, though I hadn’t yet expressed those feelings aloud.

  Gaze fastened on his I decided to show him how I felt. I reached my hands up to his handsome face, stroking my fingertips across the whisker roughened planes of his cheekbones and then using my thumbs to smooth away the crease of sincerity in his furrowed brow.

  “Thyme, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up stuff that would upset you.” His hands were busy, too, sifting through my hair that had a violet shimmer tonight. “Tact is not my strength. Give me a chance to make it up to you. I want to make you smile again. I’d say let me take you out to dinner. I’m told that I’m a charming conversationalist. But that won’t work for us, will it?”

  I leaned back lip curving up just a bit, and shook my head.

  “Not quite a smile, but it’s a start anyway. How about when you come back tomorrow night I keep the blinds closed and we’ll do whatever you want? Whatever makes you happy.”

  “Really?” I replied eagerly, a mischievous glint brightening my eyes. I could tell my response made him a little wary. He already knew I was a neat freak. I got the idea he was worried that I might make him clean up the apartment he had trashed.

  “Yeah sure,” he affirmed hesitantly, but added a caveat. “This won’t involve me and a scrub brush will it?”

  “Oh, so there are limits right up front already?” My eyes twinkled.

  “No.” He sighed. “I said whatever, and I meant it, but Ty…” He lowered his voice as his face came toward me. I felt his fingers tugging my hair to tip my head back.

  “Don’t. We can’t.” I stopped him placing my
fingers over his lips. “I want to.” I stressed that word so there would be no misunderstanding. “I’ve thought about it,” I admitted brashly. “A lot.”

  He went instantly tense, his eyes darkening as I slowly skated the pads of my fingers over his mouth the way I wished I could with my tongue. I was mesmerized by the firmness of his lips, by the sexy shape of the v in the top one and the fullness of the lower. I brushed my thumb back and forth over them. His mouth parted as did mine. Our heated gazes sizzled with impossible desire.

  A kiss. His lips touching mine. Just one.

  “Billy,” I said my voice breathy, “I should probably go.”

  “No,” he groaned, the haze of passion clearing from his eyes. “You can’t. Not yet. You know I can’t sleep without you near.” He withdrew his hands from my hair but leaned in close again. I held myself completely still and was disappointed when he only softly brushed a kiss against my temple. He drew back and his lips curled reading my emotion exactly. “And anyway. I have something for you.”

  “Oh?” I asked arching a suspicious brow. The heat between us was only smoldering now. If what he had in mind involved him taking his clothes off, I was going to burn up in a flash of flame.

  “I was going to say take a shower with me.” His eyes glittered with a mirthful sheen. “But I already know what your answer would be…”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Alright, then.” He gave me his playful smile. I felt the warmth of it fill my hollow chest. It was so sweet. He was so sweet. “It’s in the bedroom.” He helped me up and led the way. “I had to hide it.” I could hear the amusement in his voice. “I know how obsessive you are about the cleaning thing.”

  He entered the room first, went to the dresser and opened the top drawer where his boxers lay neatly folded. He gave me a knowing look before withdrawing a paper gift bag. Yeah, I might have lingered on straightening the contents of that particular drawer as I imagined certain things.

  He grinned as if he could read my mind and offered me the heavy handled bag.

  “Thank you,” I said as I took it, peeked inside and peered up at him from beneath my lashes, my expression revealing my surprise.

  It was filled with books. Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets. Collectible editions. Emerson. Browning. Keats. Byron. All my favorites were there.

  “I’m sure you’ve read your old ones thousands of times,” he offered looking sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gift. My eyes felt as though they burned as I stared at him.

  “It’s nothing really. Don’t look at me as though I’m giving you diamonds, Ty.”

  “Books are better than diamonds. And poetry books are the very best of all.” I removed them, placed the bag on the dresser and ran my hands reverentially over the smooth colorful covers.

  “Why don’t you hop into bed with one of them?” He pulled back the comforter and fluffed the pillow. “Get comfortable. Take off those tight jeans.” His gaze traced my curves in an approving way that made me glad I’d chosen the skinny style. “I’ll just take a quick shower and then I’ll join you. Ok?”

  “Alright, Billy.” I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say no.

  He nodded once and then it was my turn to watch appreciatively as he sauntered out of the room.

  I unzipped my jeans and peeled them off. I unbuttoned my blouse, too, leaving only my bikini underwear and a camisole. It took a lot of energy to maintain the illusion of multiple sets of clothing. Or at least that was what I told myself as I slipped beneath the sheet.

  I heard the water turn on. I tucked a hand under my chin and rolled onto my side forcing my mind away from the wet naked man in the other room. I shifted restlessly beneath the challenge of that daunting task for several moments before eventually succumbing to the allure of the written word.

  I didn’t even realize Billy was done until I felt the mattress dip. Then I drew in a ghostly breath and held it as he settled in close behind me. He placed his warm hand on my bare shoulder over the thin strap of my camisole. His touch was so intimate, his respiration heavy and humid against my neck.

  Oh my Creator.

  Want and need and desire pierced every single inch of my phantom form.

  “Thank you for staying,” he rumbled after a beat, the bed shaking as he moved suddenly. I turned to investigate watching him twist his delectable torso to grab his guitar from its open case on the nightstand. His black boxer briefs rode wickedly low on his narrow hips. He brought the acoustic to his lap blocking my view. He started to strum chords, singing, also, though his voice was more raspy than usual. He seemed to be having a tough time catching his breath.

  I flipped onto my back forcing my gaze back to the pages between my trembling hands. The words blurred before my eyes and remained that way long after Billy finally put the guitar away, closed his gorgeous blue eyes and bade me goodnight.

  It was only when I felt the dawn’s imminent approach that I was able to rip my gaze away from his sleeping form.

  If only.

  Chapter 27

  There are no secrets that time does not reveal. - Jean Racine

  Billy

  I woke up abruptly, glanced at the other side of the bed that was now disappointedly empty, then at the black face of my Breitling Colt quartz watch and groaned. The sun was about to rise but it was still a long damn time until I would get to see her again. I needed something to do to make the time pass faster. Something else beyond the usual run, workout and then fixate on my ghost girl routine.

  I wanted tonight to be special. For the first time in my life since Nan passed, I was looking for something more. I wanted to show Thyme what she meant to me. But I was completely out of practice with that kind of thing and needed a little help getting pointed in the right direction.

  I slid out my cell and scrolled to recent calls. “Hey, Sis…I know it’s really early, but you’re the only one I could call who I know will keep it quiet. I need your help doing something nice for a girl.”

  *****

  It was minutes until sunset. Not much time left to get things ready and still I was still running around like a bull with a burr under the saddle when the doorbell rang.

  Why would Thyme ring the bell? Unless…maybe she was messing with me.

  I yanked open the door with a smart remark on the tip of my tongue but it wasn’t her. Just some weird guy with red hair in a tailored black suit sporting an odd claw shaped pendant around his neck. “I’m sorry.” I glanced back over my shoulder. “If you’re selling something now’s not a good time. I’m expecting someone.”

  “Hmm.” His brow lifted skeptically making the jagged scar on his right cheek pull taut. “If that’s the case, then why are you looking back inside the apartment instead of past me? As far as I know unless there’s been some remodeling I don’t know about, Chantelle’s apartment only has one entrance to the outside.”

  At the mention of Chantelle’s name, I froze. This wasn’t a salesman. That much was clear. But who was he?

  He dipped his pointy chin. “I’m opening a new club downstairs, but I dropped by tonight as a representative of the city council. I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming parade. May I come in?” he asked.

  “Ok. For a minute, I guess.” I closed the door after him and gestured to the sofa that was absent of its usual clutter. “Have a seat, Mr.?”

  “Johnson. Paul Leon Johnson,” he filled in taking an intrusively long look around before he sat down. “Candles on the table are a nice touch, very romantic. Must be a special date. Odd, I don’t smell any food.” I didn’t know how he could smell anything given his own horrific stench. He smelled like rotten meat.

  “Takeout,” I lied. “Should be here any moment. What can I do for you, Mr. Johnson?”

  “What?” His hatchet nose twitched honing in on something behind me as if he were one of my dad’s hound dogs. He seemed to have forgotten the reason for his visit.

  “So you’re from
the city,” I reminded him moving in front of him and blocking his view of the rear of the apartment. I didn’t want him to see Thyme popping out of thin air.

  His eyes settled on my face. Geez, I’d never seen eyes that black. Was there any color in them at all?

  “Yes. As a member of the council and seeing that we’re tenants in the same building, I just wanted to stop by and welcome you. Find out who you’ve met so far and what your plans are.”

  “My plans?” That seemed kind of personal for a stranger to ask no matter who he was. The guy was giving me the major creeps. And was it just me or had he emphasized the word council in a way that made me think he was threatening me? I swallowed suddenly as a horrible thought crossed my mind. Holy shit. Was he one of that Council? The Favored? And did they know about Thyme and me?

  “For the celebration, I mean.”

  “You know what?” If he was an immortal he was definitely one of the bad ones. Thyme said the only way one could get in the apartment was if they were extended an invitation. “I just remembered it’s my manager who handles all the parade details.”

  “But I didn’t even get a chance to expand on the point of my visit, Mr. Blade.”

  “Fair enough.” I gave him the arrogant rock star freeze. “But I suddenly don’t care.” I reopened the apartment door. “You’ll need to leave. Now. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

  He licked his thick lips and his head twitched. For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to leave. My fingers wrapped around the harmonica in my jeans pocket. Mr. Johnson’s eyes narrowed. “Very well, Mr. Blade. I have a reputation to uphold in the community so I’ll ignore your lack of civility. Another time then. Another place,” he added in parting as he ducked through the door.

  I closed it immediately and locked it but his foul stench lingered in the air. I grabbed one of the cleaning spritzes the maid service had left behind and went to town with it. I was just putting it back in its spot under the kitchen sink—hey, I can be neater when I put my mind to it—when I heard a noise behind me.