The Dark

by Cheyenne McCray

That, and she baked one hell of a mean cinnamon roll.

  “Another battle has been fought.” Cassia’s voice jerked his attention back to her. She held her hands in her lap again, her expression calm. “Casualties on both sides.”

  The word casualties hit home, and any lustful thoughts and odd feelings he’d had vanished in a snap.

  Fury rode him at the news of members of the Alliance dying. This time he did manage to sit up in bed and swing his legs over the side, but kept the blanket over his lap. Her calm expression made him grit his teeth. “Who?”

  “I don’t know.” Cassia sighed. “But the leaders of the Alliance are certain there’s a leak. A traitor.” She shook her head, her long, blonde hair swinging with the movement. “Every time the Alliance goes on a mission, Darkwolf knows and attacks.”

  Jake let out a string of curse words and slammed his fists against the mattress to either side of him. “I’ve got to get back.”

  “One more day.” She studied him intently. “You need one more day to heal enough to be safe outside the protections and energies of the Light Elves.”

  “Bullshit,” he growled.

  Cassia stood and looked so calm that this time Jake did get up. He grabbed her by her shoulders. He didn’t care that the covers that had been covering him fell away, leaving him naked.

  He knocked that calm expression right off her face as she glanced down at his body before looking up at him when he shook her. He stared directly into her eyes. “You will take me home, now.”

  She jerked out of his grip, but her cheeks flushed pink. An angry glint lit her eyes that he’d never seen before. Good. Her shell needed to be cracked.

  As a matter of fact, that shell needed to be cracked a lot more.

  Jake caught her delicate face in his palms, spearing her silken hair with his fingers at the same time. Without pausing to think about it, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her so hard and fierce she gasped. He took advantage of her parted lips and forced his tongue into her mouth, exploring her, letting her know he was in control of this moment.

  He heard a loud smashing sound, like something fragile had crashed to the floor.

  It felt as if sparks were igniting in his belly.

  Cassia grasped him by his upper arms and clung to him, her fingers digging into his bare biceps. She remained stiff and unmoving. But he didn’t stop his exploration of her mouth, tasting her, teasing her, provoking her to return his kiss.

  And then she finally fell into the moment, taking everything he gave. She made soft little moans that sent zinging sensations straight to his groin as she kissed him back. Her kisses were tentative, almost like she didn’t know what she was doing. Innocent, pure. As if she had never been kissed before.

  God, she was sweet.

  He heard a cracking sound behind him as she moaned louder and leaned into him. Her hands moved from his biceps, over his shoulders, until she linked her fingers behind his neck.

  As he slid his hands to her waist, he brought her tight against his naked body and his huge erection, and she gasped again. This time he heard a much louder cracking noise behind him. Was Cassia doing that?

  Who cared? He resisted the urge to part her robe and see exactly what she was wearing beneath it—if anything.

  He kissed her again, letting all the frustration and anger turn into passion and desire.

  Something itched at the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be doing this.

  Why? God, why?

  He’d wanted Cassia for a while. Maybe since the day he first saw her out of her goofy-witch-apprentice disguise. He just hadn’t admitted to himself, until now, how badly he wanted her.

  She tasted so, so sweet. Of honey and desire.

  The knocking at his brain grew louder as reality hit him.

  He jerked his head back, breaking the kiss. He could barely catch his breath as Cassia looked up at him with a dazed expression.

  Kat. He’d been dating Kat for a year.

  He was an idiot for kissing Cassia.

  He couldn’t do this, couldn’t cheat on Kat. If he was going to let anything happen between him and Cassia, he’d have to break off his relationship with Kat first.

  Why was he even thinking about breaking up with Kat and becoming involved with Cassia? Just because right now she was sending his hormones into major overdrive?

  Shapeshifting eggplant, remember? You don’t even know what she is, much less who.

  But, God, he’d wanted Cassia for so long. He didn’t need his cop instincts to tell him she wasn’t exactly what she’d made herself out to be. But then, who was?

  Everyone had secrets. Even he did.

  The memory of his failure in seeing that dark magic trap coming dug at his gut like a jagged dagger. They’d been set up by an Afghani leader who happened to be a warlock as powerful as Darkwolf had been before this thing with Darkwolf’s double god powers.

  Jake sucked in a deep lungful of air as Cassia pulled out of his arms and stepped back. It was as if an incredible spell had embraced them and now shattered, the shards scattering across the room along with his lust.

  And whatever had broken while he’d been kissing her.

  The expression on her face—he’d never seen her look like that. Her eyes wide and filled with confusion, desire, and maybe a little fear? Her usually smooth hair was wild where he’d slid his fingers into it, her normally fair cheeks had a high blush to them, and her lips were reddened and swollen from his kiss. She took another step away from him, clearly dazed.

  Jake almost smirked. Perfect, calm, serene Cassia had just had the wind blasted out of her sails.

  He mentally sighed.

  Reeled himself back in like a veteran cop hauling an eager rookie back in line.

  Down, boy.

  Okay, he was a shit. He really needed to apologize. First to Cassia for acting like an ass, then to Kat for kissing another woman while he was still supposed to be dating her.

  He tried to get closer to Cassia again, but the sudden change in her expression stopped him cold. The look on her face shimmered from vulnerable to a dangerous fury he had never imagined she possessed.

  Streams of gold magic flew from one of her hands and the light zipped across the room. A crack split the air like a shot and a wooden table collapsed.

  Oh, crap.

  All thoughts of shapeshifting eggplants left his head and he wondered if she was going to toast his nuts like Rhiannon had done to Keir when she’d met the D’Danann warrior.

  Only maybe Cassia would fry Jake’s right off. He almost crossed his legs at the thought.

  But then all signs of Cassia’s magic faded. She took a deep breath. Her expression shifted back to that vulnerable look she’d been wearing before.

  Jake’s heart melted faster than one of those Stormcutter’s ice daggers on hot asphalt. He wanted to hold her, reassure her.

  His emotions twisted so quickly that he’d never felt more confused in his life. In fact he’d never felt so much of anything, period. Not since Afghanistan.

  A low growl came from the doorway and Jake jerked his gaze from Cassia’s to see Kael, Cassia’s huge white wolf familiar. Hair prickled along Jake’s nape. If Cassia didn’t fry his nuts, her wolf might just eat them.

  Jake drew his attention from Kael back to Cassia and opened his mouth to apologize.

  Before Jake could get a single word out, Cassia turned and fled.

  5

  San Francisco

  * * *

  Darkwolf shoved his hands in the pockets of his black Armani slacks as he stood on the pitcher’s mound in the San Francisco Giants’ stadium. Fog hung low overhead and the moisture in the air caused his black silk shirt to stick to his skin. Now that he had the power of two gods, he was a little over seven feet tall, even more buff than he’d been before, and he was forced to “shop” at big and tall men’s departments.

  Or rather he took what he wanted. He didn’t pay for anything.

  Darkwolf’s growing army of St
ormcutters surrounded him. They stood in disorganized groups, but Darkwolf and his Blades, his leaders, would soon have them in shape. As the men weren’t on a raid, they wore pants and shoes. Darkwolf didn’t allow the men to wear shirts and cover their inverted pentagram tattoo. He used the tattoo to control them, to call them when they were needed.

  Elizabeth stood next to Darkwolf, her arms crossed beneath her extraordinary breasts, as she surveyed the “troops.” She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him with her vivid blue eyes. “Amazing what you have accomplished in a mere week.”

  His reaction to the beautiful woman was almost always immediate. He hardened and he wanted to take her now. Maybe in the locker rooms.

  No, better back at their penthouse where they could be alone. He wasn’t into sharing her anymore, and he wanted to make sure they didn’t end up with any voyeurs.

  She was so gorgeous, so perfect. He could almost, almost, forget she was a former Fomorii Demon Queen named Junga. He held back a grimace at the thought of the hideous, hulking, blue demon she was inside the beautiful human shell.

  Darkwolf dragged his attention away from Elizabeth and focused on his Blades as they approached to report the results of last night’s raid. With his incredible powers, Darkwolf had gifted each man with the ability to “create” Stormcutters.

  “We eliminated nine more members of the Alliance,” Ryder said after he assumed a military stance. “We beat the crap out of them last night.”

  “Our casualties?” Darkwolf asked as he looked to each of the twelve men he had recruited from various branches of the military to lead the Stormcutters against the Alliance.

  “The Alliance killed twenty-two Stormcutters.” Butch kept his expression neutral as he spoke.

  Darkwolf’s ten other leaders remained silent as they maintained their military stances.

  He mentally shrugged. Insignificant, meaningless losses compared to the impact he and his Stormcutters were making on the D’Anu, D’Danann, Drow, and the worthless Paranormal Special Forces.

  Thanks to his little traitor, who continued to give him all the information he needed to bring down the relatively small Alliance.

  However, Darkwolf kept his face stone cold. “I expect better results after our next venture. And fewer casualties.”

  “Yes, sir,” each man echoed.

  Gods bless the military.

  “We’ve got the other one hundred and eighty recruits to get started on.” Turk nodded to a group of chained men behind Darkwolf.

  Darkwolf appraised the men. A ragged group as usual—that would soon be among the most powerful beings in all of San Francisco, once his mark was upon them and they had received his gift of Stormcutter powers. Right now some appeared angry, rebellious, furious, where others looked like they’d wet their pants if Darkwolf said boo.

  That would change, in just moments.

  Darkwolf nodded to Butch, Turk, Ryder, Zane, and Joe, five of his Blades.

  At once the Blades organized the men into five groups. Butch started by forcing the men in his line to strip off their shirts. When they were naked from the waist up, Butch placed his hand over the first man’s heart.

  Immediately the man screamed, his face twisted in complete and absolute agony.

  Butch started to glow. Power flowed from him—black, thick, oily. A dark cloud encompassed the two men as the new Stormcutter continued to scream and scream.

  When Butch drew his hand back, an inverted pentagram tattoo had been burned into the flesh over the man’s heart.

  The new Stormcutter’s knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground.

  “Get up!” Butch drove his military boot into the man’s side.

  The Stormcutter cried out again, rolled to his side, and got to his knees before forcing himself to his feet. His eyes took on a vacant look as Butch removed his cuffs and chains, and directed him to stand with the other Stormcutters, who were as silent and as animated as automatons.

  They had no expressions. Like the life had been sucked out of them.

  Darkwolf did smile this time. These men belonged to him. These men would put an end to the Alliance and eliminate every D’Danann and Drow warrior, every PSF officer, and every D’Anu witch.

  At the last thought, Darkwolf felt like his chest had been crushed, the air squeezed from his lungs. Even Silver Ashcroft. Even she had to be killed.

  Darkwolf took a deep breath, drawing air back into his lungs. His infatuation with the D’Anu witch was over. He didn’t give a damn what happened to her.

  If only that were true.

  Darkwolf ground his teeth and let the screams of the new recruits fade into the background. He grasped Elizabeth’s hand and looked down at her.

  She gave him one of the sexy smiles that made him so hard he thought he’d come in his pants. She always did that to him.

  “I know what you want,” she murmured.

  He grinned. “That’s no surprise.”

  “But maybe I have a surprise for you this time.” Elizabeth gave him a secretive smile and his balls drew up so tight he almost gasped.

  “I’m out of here,” Darkwolf said to his leaders in his deep, resounding voice. “You handle these guys.” He looked down at Elizabeth and said under his breath, “And I’ll handle you.”

  She laughed. “You wish,” she said just before they vanished into the transference and he took them back to the penthouse.

  6

  San Francisco

  * * *

  For so long, I’ve been sick of all this self-righteousness. This Alliance and every member of it.

  But now I can laugh. The Alliance can’t figure out how the warlock-god knows their plans. How he finds and destroys them at every turn.

  I wonder how long it’ll take them to figure it out. If they ever do.

  Unlike anyone here, Darkwolf has already lived up to his promises. He has strengthened me more than anyone in the Alliance could imagine. With every bit of information I give him, the great warlock-god feeds me, fills me, giving me power I’ve never had.

  Just the thought of Darkwolf turns me on so much I ache to my core. I need to find the PSF cop who takes me whenever I’m in the mood. He’s promised to keep our “relationship” a secret. As long as he does, I’ll let him live.

  I have to make sure my familiar is not around. Good, he must be out. He knows of my sexual relationship with the cop, but I’ve made it clear it’s none of his business.

  Sometimes my familiar seems suspicious of me, possibly sensing the darkness, but I hope not. One day I’ll have to kill him. Killing him might be the hardest of any life I’ll be forced to take.

  I will miss him.

  Focus, damn it. The glamour’s important.

  I love how it feels when I become invisible to humans. I love this part, slipping through the warehouse, naughty and unseen. It’s a thrill.

  And there’s Fredrickson working in the ammunition room near the PSF command. No one else is around.

  So much for the glamour.

  It’s gone before I even close the door behind me.

  And lock it.

  Fredrickson sees me and grins.

  I give him my sweetest smile and point to the locked door.

  “Mmmm, babe,” Fredrickson murmurs when he reaches me. “Here for a good—”

  I silence him by clutching him through his jeans and squeezing. Hard.

  His eyes practically roll back in his head and he grasps my breasts in his hands. My core is already clenching, knowing I’ll have him inside me soon.

  My T-shirt goes first as his eager hands paw against me, then my jeans, underwear, shoes, and socks. I unbutton and unzip his jeans and push them down just enough to release him. He’s nice-sized, and I don’t want to wait for him anymore.

  Fredrickson knows I like it when he keeps his clothes on and I’m naked. He knows I like it rough in every way.

  I give a soft gasp as he shoves me up against one of the walls. Immediately I wrap my legs around his
waist and he drives himself inside me.

  To keep from crying out at his deep penetration I have to grind my teeth. He takes me hard and fast, his jeans abrading the insides of my thighs as he thrusts. The unfinished wood wall scrapes my bare back as he drives in and out so powerfully.

  I cling to him, digging my nails into his shoulders as he leans down and bites my nipples, making me want to scream even more from the pleasure of the pain.

  As always, I imagine it’s Darkwolf taking me. He’ll be much bigger, I’m sure, but for now Fredrickson will do.

  It’s so hard not to make any noise and I let Fredrickson know I want it even harder when I buck my hips and bring him deeper inside me as he thrusts.

  My climax approaches. I use my magic to make the pleasure even more intense for us both.

  The moment my orgasm hits, I bite his shoulder through his T-shirt to keep from crying out. Fredrickson drives into me more. He’s good. He knows what I want. I like it when he’s rough and makes me come first, then makes me come again before he climaxes.

  I have to bite his shoulder harder as I come again.

  This time his body jerks and throbs, and I feel him come inside me. That makes my climax all the more intense, and I urge him on by thrusting my hips and clawing his back. He likes pain, too.

  If I didn’t have to worry about anyone finding us, I’d make him take me again. He’d do anything for me, and I take full advantage of him.

  Without giving him time to say anything, I push him away and slip on my clothes. He adjusts his now flaccid dick, fastens his jeans, and tucks in his shirt. He looks like he wants to talk, but I shake my head and slip out the door.

  I need more information about the Alliance’s plans, and I’ll use him tonight. Right now I needed to use him for sex.

  I pull another glamour and slip around where Alliance members rarely go.

  My core still spasms as I think about Darkwolf. If only I could go to him now. Serve at his side. Serve him in any way he chose to use me.

  But no. Darkwolf needs me here, where I can continue to deceive those who have chosen to overlook me.