Scorched by Darkness

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Hell. I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “I have to see my mother.” She gave a small shrug. “She used the last of her strength to create the portal.”

  He heaved a resigned sigh. “Perhaps my father wasn’t completely wrong to barter off his family.”

  She skimmed her hands down his neck and over his broad shoulders. Torque wasn’t the only one anxious to return to the privacy of his lair.

  “Thankfully, you will be a much better father,” she assured him in husky tones.

  His eyes flared with sapphire fire. “I’m more interested in being a mate.”

  Pulling out of his arms, she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the waiting portal.

  “We have a whole eternity ahead of us.”

  He stroked a finger down the curve of her back, sending sparks of fire through her blood.

  “Not long enough.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Torque had been a very good dragon.

  Not only had he patiently escorted Rya to her mother’s lair so she could assure herself that Kai was properly resting, but he’d actually waited until they were in the privacy of his lair before he’d torn off her clothes and ravished her.

  Then, as a reward for his excellent behavior, he’d carried her to his bed, and allowed her to ravish him.

  Now he held her tightly in his arms and nuzzled at her throat.

  Eventually he would get up and make them something to eat, but for now he intended to enjoy a slow, thorough seduction that might very well take the entire day.

  Nibbling a path of kisses down the curve of her neck, he pretended he didn’t hear the sharp knock that echoed through the lair.

  Beneath him, Rya stiffened. “Torque.”

  His lips traced the dragon marque that draped over the luscious curve of her breasts.

  “Hmm?”

  “There’s someone at the door.”

  He released a small burst of fire that made her squirm with pleasure.

  “Ignore them and they’ll go away,” he told her.

  She gave a throaty laugh, her fingers combing through his hair.

  “You always say that.”

  “Because it’s true,” he said.

  Then the knocking stopped, only to be replaced by an explosive burst of power that rattled the bed and sucked the air out of the room.

  Which meant that either a nuclear bomb had just been planted in his lair, or it was Baine on the other side of the door.

  “Not when it’s a pissed-off dragon,” she muttered.

  No shit.

  Muttering beneath his breath, Torque reluctantly climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of faded jeans.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said, his gaze captivated by the sight of Rya spread across his bed.

  Her dark satin hair was spread over the pillows, her eyes smoldering with amber fire. She was sensual female temptation wrapped in glorious beauty.

  Was it any wonder that he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and disappear in a puff of smoke?

  “About what?” she demanded, covering her slender body with the sheet.

  He barely resisted the urge to reach down and yank it back off.

  Dammit. He’d just gotten her alone and naked.

  He didn’t want to be interrupted.

  “I no longer want to live in this lair,” he told her.

  She lifted her brows. “You want to move into my rooms in the harem?”

  “Hell, no,” he growled with a shudder. “I was thinking about our own island.” There was another blast of power. This one shattered his mirror. “Far, far away,” he continued with a grimace.

  “First you need to answer the door,” she warned.

  Accepting he’d pushed his master far enough, Torque leaned down to press a swift kiss against Rya’s mouth.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded.

  Forcing himself to straighten, he headed out of the bedroom and across the open living space. Then, not bothering with a shirt or shoes, he pulled open the door.

  He found Baine in his usual human shape. Narrow face, Asian features, and almond-shaped eyes that burned with the same amber fire as Rya’s.

  Today his black hair was pulled into a tail at his nape and he was wearing a loose pair of dojo pants that revealed the metallic tattoos that swirled over his chest with vibrant color.

  “What?” Torque demanded.

  Baine planted his hands on his hips, his brows lifted.

  “That’s not a very nice way to greet me.”

  Belatedly realizing that being rude to a dragon was a good way to end up toast, quite literally, he gave a stiff bow of his head.

  “Forgive me, master,” he murmured. “I was hoping for some time alone with my mate.”

  Baine glanced over his shoulder, noting the overturned furniture that had happened during their frenzied arrival in the lair.

  “Have you completed the ceremony?”

  “Not yet. We’re waiting for Kai to recover her strength.” His lips twisted in a rueful smile. “And now I suppose we’ll have to include my mother,” he added. From the short amount of time he’d spent with Nalani, he was fairly certain she would be overjoyed to be asked to assist with his formal mating. “Not that I need a ceremony. As far as I’m concerned, Rya is mine.”

  “Yes.” The floor beneath their feet abruptly shuddered. A sure sign that Baine was trying to control his emotions. Not his greatest skill. “Kai is the reason I’m here.”

  Torque hissed. Damn. He’d been so caught up in his annoyance at being interrupted during his time alone with Rya, he hadn’t considered that Baine might be there to deliver bad news.

  “Has something happened?”

  “Not to her.”

  “Thank the goddess.” He released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Rya would be destroyed if her mother had been hurt. “What is it?”

  “Kai traveled to Synge’s lair to use her magic to keep Blayze unconscious,” Baine said.

  Torque nodded. “Yeah, she promised to help while Ravel seeks a way to end the curse.” He studied his companion’s grim expression. “It didn’t work?”

  “She didn’t have a chance to try.”

  Torque felt a stab of surprise. When they’d left Synge’s lair he’d been desperate to locate Kai so she could help his daughter. “Why not?”

  “Blayze is missing.”

  Missing? Torque blinked. And then blinked again.

  The words didn’t make any sense. Nothing and no one could get into a dragon’s lair. Well, except Baine’s mate, Tayla.

  Which meant she couldn’t have been kidnapped.

  And since she was knocked unconscious, she couldn’t have walked out.

  So that left…? What?

  “How’s that possible?” he at last muttered.

  Baine shook his head. “No one knows, but my father is on a full-out rampage trying to discover what happened.”

  Torque shuddered. He didn’t doubt for a second that Synge’s fury was epic. He’d just had his daughter returned to him. Now to have her snatched away…

  Yeah. He was going to make sure Rya stayed away from her father until Blayze was returned.

  Already considering the best means of convincing his stubborn mate to avoid Synge’s lair, Torque was struck by a sudden thought.

  “Wait,” he said. “What about Char?”

  Flames danced in Baine’s amber eyes. “He’s missing too.”

  “Oh, shit,” he breathed.

  Baine gave a slow nod. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

  KILL WITHOUT MERCY (ARES SECURITY)

  BY ALEXANDRA IVY

  PROLOGUE

  Few people truly understood the meaning of ‘hell on earth.’

  The five soldiers who had been held in the Taliban prison in southern Afghanistan, however, possessed an agonizingly intimate knowledge of the phrase.

  There was nothing like five weeks of brutal torture to teach a man that there a
re worse things than death.

  It should have broken them. Even the most hardened soldiers could shatter beneath the acute psychological and physical punishment. Instead the torment only honed their ruthless determination to escape their captors.

  In the dark nights they pooled their individual resources.

  Rafe Vargas, a covert ops specialist. Max Grayson, trained in forensics. Hauk Laurensen, a sniper who was an expert with weapons. Teagan Moore, a computer wizard. And Lucas St. Clair, the smooth-talking hostage negotiator.

  Together they forged a bond that went beyond friendship. They were a family bound by the grim determination to survive.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Friday nights in Houston meant crowded bars, loud music and ice-cold beer. It was a tradition that Rafe and his friends had quickly adapted to suit their own tastes when they moved to Texas five months ago.

  After all, none of them were into the dance scene. They were too old for half-naked coeds and casual hookups. And none of them wanted to have to scream over pounding music to have a decent conversation.

  Instead, they’d found The Saloon, a small, cozy bar with lots of polished wood, a jazz band that played softly in the background, and a handful of locals who knew better than to bother the other customers. Oh, and the finest tequila in the city.

  They even had their own table that was reserved for them every Friday night.

  Tucked in a back corner, it was shrouded in shadows and well away from the long bar that ran the length of one wall. A perfect spot to observe without being observed.

  And best of all, situated so no one could sneak up from behind.

  It might have been almost two years since they’d returned from the war, but none of them had forgotten. Lowering your guard, even for a second, could mean death.

  Lesson. Fucking. Learned.

  Tonight, however, it was only Rafe and Hauk at the table, both of them sipping tequila and eating peanuts from a small bucket.

  Lucas was still in Washington D.C., working his contacts to help drum up business for their new security business, ARES. Max had remained at their new offices, putting the final touches on his precious forensics lab, and Teagan was on his way to the bar after installing a computer system that would give Homeland Security a hemorrhage if they knew what he was doing.

  Leaning back in his chair, Rafe intended to spend the night relaxing after a long week of hassling with the red tape and bullshit regulations that went into opening a new business, when he made the mistake of checking his messages.

  “Shit.”

  He tossed his cellphone on the polished surface of the wooden table, a tangled ball of emotions lodged in the pit of his stomach.

  Across the table Hauk sipped his tequila and studied Rafe with a lift of his brows.

  At a glance, the two men couldn’t be more different.

  Rafe had dark hair that had grown long enough to touch the collar of his white button-down shirt along with dark eyes that were lushly framed by long, black lashes. His skin remained tanned dark bronze despite the fact it was late September, and his body was honed with muscles that came from working on the small ranch he’d just purchased, not the gym.

  Hauk, on the other hand, had inherited his Scandinavian father’s pale blond hair that he kept cut short, and brilliant blue eyes that held a cunning intelligence. He had a narrow face with sculpted features that were usually set in a stern expression.

  And it wasn’t just their outward appearance that made them so different.

  Rafe was hot tempered, passionate and willing to trust his gut instincts.

  Hauk was aloof, calculating, and mind-numbingly anal. Not that Hauk would admit he was OCD. He preferred to call himself detail-oriented.

  Which was exactly why he was a successful sniper. Rafe, on the other hand, had been trained in combat rescue. He was capable of making quick decisions, and ready to change strategies on the fly.

  “Trouble?” Hauk demanded.

  Rafe grimaced. “The real estate agent left a message saying she has a buyer for my grandfather’s house.”

  Hauk looked predictably confused. Rafe had been bitching about the need to get rid of his grandfather’s house since the old man’s death a year ago.

  “Shouldn’t that be good news?”

  “It would be if I didn’t have to travel to Newton to clean it out,” Rafe said.

  “Aren’t there people you can hire to pack up the shit and send it to you?”

  “Not in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

  Hauk’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. “I’ve been in the middle of fucking nowhere, amigo, and it ain’t Kansas,” he said, the shadows from the past darkening his eyes.

  “Newton’s in Iowa, but I get your point,” Rafe conceded. He did his best to keep the memories in the past where they belonged. Most of the time he was successful. Other times the demons refused to be leashed. “Okay, it’s not the hell hole we crawled out of, but the town might as well be living in another century. I’ll have to go deal with my grandfather’s belongings myself.”

  Hauk reached to pour himself another shot of tequila from the bottle that had been waiting for them in the center of the table.

  Like Rafe, he was dressed in an Oxford shirt, although his was blue instead of white, and he was wearing black dress pants instead of jeans.

  “I know you think it’s a pain, but it’s probably for the best.”

  Rafe glared at his friend. The last thing he wanted was to drive a thousand miles to pack up the belongings of a cantankerous old man who’d never forgiven Rafe’s father for walking away from Iowa. “Already trying to get rid of me?”

  “Hell no. Of the five of us, you’re the...”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Rafe muttered as Hauk hesitated.

  “The glue,” he at last said.

  Rafe gave a bark of laughter. He’d been called a lot of things over the years. Most of them unrepeatable. But glue was a new one. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Hauk settled back in his seat. “Lucas is the smooth-talker, Max is the heart, Teagan is the brains and I’m the organizer.” The older man shrugged. “You’re the one who holds us all together. ARES would never have happened without you.”

  Rafe couldn’t argue. After returning to the States, the five of them had been transferred to separate hospitals to treat their numerous injuries. It would have been easy to drift apart. The natural instinct was to avoid anything that could remind them of the horror they’d endured.

  But Rafe had quickly discovered that returning to civilian life wasn’t a simple matter of buying a home and getting a 9-to-5 job.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of being trapped in a small cubicle eight hours a day, or returning to an empty condo that would never be a home.

  It felt way too much like the prison he’d barely escaped.

  Besides, he found himself actually missing the bastards.

  Who else could understand his frustrations? His inability to relate to the tedious, everyday problems of civilians? His lingering nightmares?

  So giving into his impulse, he’d phoned Lucas, knowing he’d need the man’s deep pockets to finance his crazy scheme. Astonishingly, Lucas hadn’t even hesitated before saying ‘yes.’ It’d been the same for Hauk and Max and Teagan.

  All of them had been searching for something that would not only use their considerable skills, but would make them feel as if they hadn’t been put out to pasture like bulls that were past their prime.

  And that was how ARES had been born.

  Now he frowned at the mere idea of abandoning his friends when they were on the cusp of realizing their dream.

  “Then why are you encouraging me to leave town when we’re just getting ready to open for business?”

  “Because he was your family.”

  “Bull. Shit.” Rafe growled. “The jackass turned his back on my father when he joined the army. “He never did a damned thing for us.”

  “And that’s why you need
to go,” Hauk insisted. “You need—”

  “You say the word closure and I’ll put my fist down your throat,” Rafe interrupted, grabbing his glass and tossing back the shot of tequila.

  Hauk ignored the threat with his usual arrogance. “Call it what you want, but until you forgive the old man for hurting your father it’s going to stay a burr in your ass.”

  Rafe shrugged. “It matches my other burrs.”

  Without warning, Hauk leaned forward, his expression somber. “Rafe, it’s going to take a couple of weeks before we’re up and running. Finish your business and come back when you’re ready.”

  Rafe narrowed his gaze. There was no surprise that Hauk was pressing him to deal with his past. Deep in his heart, Rafe knew his friend was right.

  But he could hear the edge in Hauk’s voice that made him suspect this was more than just a desire to see Rafe dealing with his resentment toward his grandfather. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Hell, I have a thousand things I don’t tell you,” Hauk mocked, lifting his glass with a mocking smile. “I am a vast, boundless reservoir of knowledge.”

  A classic deflection. Rafe laid his palms on the table, leaning forward. “You’re also full of shit.” His voice was hard with warning. “Now spill.”

  “Pushy bastard.” Hauk’s smile disappeared. “Fine. There was another note left on my desk.”

  Rafe hissed in frustration.

  The first note had appeared just days after they’d first arrived in Houston.

  It’d been left in Hauk’s car with a vague warning that he was being watched.

  They’d dismissed it as a prank. Then a month later a second note had been taped to the front door of the office building they’d just rented.

  This one had said the clock was ticking.

  Once again Hauk had tried to pretend it was nothing, but Teagan had instantly installed a state of the art alarm system, while Lucas had used his charm to make personal friends among the local authorities and encouraged them to keep a close eye on the building.

  “What the fuck?” Rafe clenched his teeth as a chill inched down his spine. He had a really, really bad feeling about the notes. “Did you check the security footage?”