Demon Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  “You did it,” she whispered.

  He looked at her and his expression shifted, becoming hungry and intense. “I need...”

  Dale took her hand and tugged her into the house, upstairs to the bedroom. Without words, he lifted her onto the bed, kissing her deeply.

  Then he unzipped his trousers, his penis thick and straining toward her, and reached for a condom, then sheathed himself. Dale opened her thighs wide, his hands cupping her bottom, pressing his penis at her soaked cleft. He thrust deep.

  Oh, gods, it was too much, too intense. Sensations overwhelmed her, his power singing to her, surrounding her, creating a friction between her legs, her breasts.

  “I’m a demon,” she gasped.

  “You’re a damn witch,” he countered, thrusting harder.

  They came together, shattering, their bodies shuddering, her shrill cries mingling with his hoarse shouts. After, trembling, she rested against his broad shoulder. “I have something to confess. I am the one who hurt you in the dark.”

  Dale kissed her temple. “Shhh. It’s all right. Nothing you can do would hurt me.”

  “They made me do it. The Centurions...”

  He kept kissing her, his mouth trailing kisses down her neck. “I’ll defeat those bastards. I could defeat ten thousand demons. They won’t lay a hand on you.”

  Why wouldn’t he listen to her? Keira moaned as he fastened his mouth on her breast and began to suckle her.

  Tomorrow, maybe, when he wasn’t so drunk on power and love.

  Then he kissed her and began making love to her again and she forgot about being the demon who had tortured him, forgot everything except the erotic bliss he coaxed out of her with every powerful push of his hips.

  * * *

  Her man was headed down range.

  Dale gathered a team together for an operation that would take him away for a week, maybe longer. And he put himself on the team, as well.

  Standing on the tarmac with the other SEAL families, Keira placed her palm flat on Dale’s chest, feeling his beating heart. Clutched in her left hand was her Celestial amulet. The amulet would help keep him safe.

  But she risked his memories returning if he touched it, for it had been sewn into his flesh as protection against her wolf fangs.

  “Can’t tell you where we’re headed. Hang tight, get together with the other wives and girlfriends.”

  Dale kissed her.

  Thinking of the love Kelly held for Sam, she clung to hope. Dale was her lover, and he cared for her, had begun sharing his heart. Surely reason would overcome anger if he discovered her deception.

  She tucked the amulet into the deep chest pocket of his shirt. “For good luck. It will keep you safe.”

  He kissed her, his gaze warm and tender. “Miss you. Don’t worry, I’m going to kick ass. And don’t stay up all night, eating all the popcorn when you watch your sentimental chick flicks.”

  She wrapped her arms around his lean waist, the rough fabric of his BDUs abrading her cheek, and hugged him tight.

  Then she pasted on a brave smile and waved as he walked onto the tarmac toward the plane, trailed by the other soldiers. Always out front. Always the leader.

  * * *

  The briefing took place at a U.S. naval base in Kuwait. Adrenaline pumped through Dale’s veins. He itched for action, but centered his breathing, as Keira taught, and listened to the platoon leader. He’d spent the past two weeks honing his training with VBSS: visit, board, search and seizure.

  This was a night op, floating out to the enemy craft, sneaking the team on board before the bad guys could crack open an eyelid and say, “Huh?”

  Night op with a twist. Interdiction of noncompliant vessel, a merchant ship intel said carried a shitload of weapons. Including chemical weaponry. Sarin gas, used to kill innocent children in their sleep in countries torn asunder by civil war.

  The op began flawlessly, speeding out to the international shipping lane on a Mark V boat with his team on board.

  Then, in a rigid-hulled inflatable, they pulled alongside the vessel, against the hull.

  Dressed in black, wearing black balaclavas and masks showing only their eyes, they silently aligned their boat with the craft, the choppy waves bouncing them like rubber dolls, hooked on and boarded, climbing up the narrow ladder and over the ship’s rails, quiet as mist.

  Accuracy and stealth.

  Dakota, the point man, signaled on his radio. Deck was deserted.

  They fanned out, slipping open doors, tossing flashbangs inside each cabin, then seizing stunned prisoners. Pow, pow, pow, precision and accuracy.

  Dakota approached, sweat streaking the black greasepaint on his face.

  “Report,” Dale ordered.

  “All clear. Shitload of illegal weapons in the cargo hold. Including enough dynamite to blow this bastard to hell.”

  A chill raced down his spine. “Get the prisoners to the aft deck and load them ASAP. I’m going for one last recheck.”

  “Curt.”

  “Do it.”

  Something about that last cabin niggled at him. They’d cleared all the cabins, but in the last one, something tinged his nostrils.

  Weapon trained on the door, Dale entered the cabin. Empty. Bunk beds, a small desk, cramped quarters. Closet cleared, nothing in the head.

  But his Mage senses tingled. He poked at the lower bunk with the barrel of his weapon, and flung it back. Nothing.

  The tingle grew stronger.

  Senses on high alert, Dale backed away, his gaze trained on the bunk. Never turn your back, he’d always drilled into his men. Not even when a room’s cleared of ordinary human threats, because when the average terrorist was hauled away, something nasty and paranormal could remain....

  The sheets on the lower bunk rustled and began to rise into the air. Shaping itself into the form of a six-foot-tall creature, with red, beady eyes, a slit of a mouth and gray, jellied skin. The stench of kerosene filled the room.

  Hell!

  Rolling away, he fired at the creature. Bullets pierced the gray jellied hide, and grayish goo leaked out.

  Igninus demon. Not as powerful as the pyrokinetic demons that took down Adam, but lethal.

  The demon advanced, holding out its hands. Bastard packed not bullets, but a different arsenal.

  Demon fire.

  It sprayed from the creature’s hands, sweeping over the deck. An arc of fire shot toward Dale and missed. Tongues of flame danced closer, heat licking Dale’s face. Needed more room to maneuver.

  He darted for the door, rolled, dodging flames shooting his way, his mind keenly assessing the threat. If that fire reached the hold...

  Dale slammed the door shut, feeling the heat pour through the steel frame. In moments, the demon would be freed and fry his ass.

  Worse, fry his team and blow the ship.

  Training in the firestorm chamber smoothly kicked in. Hit ’em hard, at their weak point, and extinguish the fires. Can’t fight the flames, can’t carry enough CO2. Find the enemy’s soft spots and attack.

  His mind raced over options. Igninus demons’ true forms were comprised of a thickening gel acting as an incendiary device, like napalm. If he tossed an energy bolt, the demon would simply explode like napalm, spreading the fire. Bullets proved useless.

  Fire was fire. Triangle of fire, heat, fuel, oxygen.

  Remove the heat.

  Evil versus good. Cold versus heat.

  All this flowed through his mind in seconds, like a fast-moving film. Dale took a deep breath, summoned all his energy directed by Keira into him through the lightning storm.

  “One, two...three!”

  Flinging open the door, he dive-rolled, sending streams of ice-cold white energy directly into the stream of fire. The Igninus roared and staggered back. Dale kept up the power surge, fighting the flames, surrounding the demon with white, cold energy.

  Footsteps sounded, running fast. The demon began to solidify into ice, its glowing red body turning frosty.


  Dropping his hands, he turned. Dakota, Dallas and Sully stood in the doorway, staring at the twisted lump of ice.

  “Find all the foam fire extinguishers you can and hose down every single cabin. More could be lurking inside,” he ordered, slumping against the doorway, suddenly weary, his powers diminished.

  * * *

  On the transport back to the States, he sat with his men. Good op. They’d not only taken down a vessel filled with weapons destined for terrorist use, but a cargo of demons, as well. Dakota and Dallas, using their Draicon wolf senses, flushed out two more Igninus demons hiding in the hold, ready to torch the dynamite, sending a foul cloud of sarin gas into the atmosphere.

  Inside the C-130, it was noisy as hell, the vibration making his jaw shake. Dale leaned forward on the webbed bench.

  “Those shit-kickers waited until the ship was close to NATO waters,” Dakota said suddenly. “With the wind shifting, that gas would have hit our ships.”

  “They failed.” Dale rubbed a hand over his face.

  “Good job, Curt. You froze its ass. Glad to have you back with us.” A grin stretched over Dallas’s face, sweat smearing the black greasepaint. “Knew that firestorm chamber training would come in handy.”

  “Except how do you explain it to D.C. brass?” Sully affected a high-pitched tone. “Excuse me, Senator, I know you’re whining about budget expenses, but we need this chamber to protect civilians like you. Curt will do a little demo on your bony ass now with a blowtorch.”

  “Hooyah, Curt,” J.T. called out. “That was some fine blow job you did.”

  “Frosty the blowman,” Renegade added. “Kicking demon ass to the Artic. You’re a mean son of a bitch, Curt.”

  Weary, but exhilarated, he grinned. Back on top again. Keegan was right. He needed time in the field with his men, needed to bond with them again. And this op proved it.

  “Can’t wait to get back to Kelly and some nice home cooking.” Shay leaned back with a tired smile.

  “You mean some home loving.” Renegade poked him in the side. “Like Curt here. He’s got a very pretty lady waiting for him. She even gave him a magick juju pendant for luck.”

  “More like protection.” He wondered about that. At the least, the demon fire should have burned him. Not even his eyebrows were singed.

  Keira had tucked the amulet into his pocket. He’d totally forgotten it....

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small pendant. Two crescent moons interlaced. It felt warm in his palm.

  Dale went still, staring at the amulet.

  Flashes of memory surged, rolling through him like a slide show.

  Panic squeezed his guts. Arms stretched above him, legs spread, sounds of whispering in the inky darkness. A slow stroke of a claw across his feet. Fighting, writhing, screaming in his mind, the delicate scent of flowers wrapping around his body, lacing through him, making his blood surge thick and hot, his cock stand stiff...

  Blood, warm and viscous, seeping down his body, dripping on the concrete floor...

  Drip, drip, drip...

  Anguish surged, bright and hot as the white-hot agony of claws gouging out his flesh.

  “Keira,” he whispered, cupping the amulet.

  “Curt? You okay? You’re looking a little pale.” Shay climbed over the men and knelt down, removing the amulet from his shaking hands. “Hey, buddy, take it easy....”

  Power exploded from him like a geyser, energy beams shooting from his outstretched palms, pinging off the airplane’s interior. Men cried out, ducked down to avoid the bolts. The airplane tilted wildly. And then he was on the floor, strong arms holding him down, deep voices telling him to hold on, it would be fine, everything would be fine.

  A long, deep scream sounded, an inhuman cry of pain....

  Dimly he wondered where it came from and realized it was him. The arms holding him down belonged to his SEALs.

  “It’s cool, Curt,” Shay soothed. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Dale closed his eyes. Shay lied.

  Nothing would ever be all right again.

  * * *

  Keira finished arranging roses in a crystal vase and set them upon the polished Steinway. Her man was headed home and everything had to be perfect.

  Checking her appearance in the hall mirror, she smoothed down the pink-and-blue-flowered dress. Dale had teased that it made her look like a garden. A soft smile touched her mouth as she remembered how eager he’d been to remove it from her....

  A truck pulled into the driveway. Bursting with anticipation, she ran to the windows and stepped back in confusion.

  Not one truck. Four.

  Men clad in green battle dress uniforms stepped out. Dale’s SEALs. Dread twisted her stomach. Oh, gods, something had happened and they were here to tell her....

  And then a tall, rugged man stepped out of the backseat of the last truck and stood. Dale. Weak with relief, she leaned against the window.

  Relief turned to real fear as the SEALs marched up to the doorway, their faces grim. Her pulse spiked as she began to tremble. He knows.

  The front door opened. Waiting in the living room, she watched the men file inside. Weapons holstered at their sides, they formed a deadly phalanx, stiff and solemn, refusing to meet her gaze.

  At last Dale walked inside and quietly shut the door behind him. Heavy combat boots trudged over the wood floor. He came into the living room, face ashen and drawn, gray eyes hard as bullets.

  “It was you,” he said in a low voice.

  Keira wrapped her arms around her waist. His expression seemed dead and empty. “I told you, but your memories... They put a block on your mind.” Quivering, she bit her lip. “Please, let me explain....”

  “Nothing to explain. You’re the damn wolf who tortured me, turned me into a shredded mess. Keira.”

  Dale looked shattered. “Keira, the Luminaire who believes good can be found in people. The woman who heals those who are broken...after her wolf claws break them. How many other men have you done this to?”

  She could not answer, only wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “All this time I talked to you of fighting evil, of battling dark forces, and you...did...that?”

  Her heart squeezed tight. She managed a brief nod. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was forced.”

  His voice dropped to a bare whisper. “How could you make me believe in your goodness, in light and hope? What kind of sick game is this?”

  “The Centurions forced me to torture you!” she cried out.

  Please believe me.

  “Did they force you to come here and destroy my trust in you?” He spoke in a whisper, as if every word wrung from him was too painful to voice aloud.

  His voice became louder, more strident. “Break my heart all over again after I started to care for you, believe that we had a chance together? You betrayed me. I placed my life in your hands, my spirit! In the hands of the demon wolf responsible for this!”

  He tore open his shirt and lifted the sweat-stained T-shirt below it, exposing the network of jagged scars bisecting his muscled torso.

  Shay swore quietly and glared at her. Sully muttered under his breath.

  “Dale, please. I’d take back every single one of them if I could. Don’t let what I did in the past destroy what you have now.” Tears blurred her vision. She wiped them away. “You care for me...I care for you. Reach beyond the pain and see what we have together. Just trust me a little....”

  “Trust you?”

  “I’ve shared with you my devotion. My heart. Give me a chance...trust me again and I promise I’ll do anything for you.”

  Her voice dropped to a broken whisper. “Anything.”

  “The only trust and loyalty I’ll give is to my team.” He glanced at the SEALs. “They never caused me to question their loyalty. Not like you.”

  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “Keira Solomon, I renounce you. I renounce our agreement.”

>   “No,” she cried out.

  The slave armband popped off her biceps, tumbling to the floor. Through her tears she saw the brilliant sapphire wink at her, as if mocking her protests.

  Emotions in a lather, she felt her wolf give a rumbling growl. Without the protection of the armband, Dale was now vulnerable to attack. Keira squeezed her fists, desperate to control the beast. Must not turn on him, must not...

  She looked up at Dale’s face and saw the anguish shadowing his eyes, saw the tightened jaw and the grief. And felt a dim flare of hope.

  “Keira,” he said thickly. “Why did you do it? Why did you torture me in the dark? You’ve done nothing but help me since you got here.”

  Sensing his utter confusion and torment, she took a tentative step forward. “Because I was forced. They forced my wolf...”

  A derisive snort from Shay. “Right. Don’t listen to her B.S., Curt. Get this demon out of your life. I swear, after I saw what she did to you in the basement, how could you let her stay here?”

  The wolf inside her snapped. Without the armband’s protection, she found herself surrendering to the beast’s emotions. Bones lengthened and fur rippled along her arms. Keira shape-shifted.

  And faced Dale, emotions a red haze in her wolf mind, only wanting to get rid of this insidious pain, find relief with her claws. Growling, she advanced, stalking toward him. Face paling, he backed up, as his men withdrew their weapons.

  “No,” he said sharply. “Don’t hurt her.”

  Dale dived for the carpet and picked up the Celestial amulet, holding it out like a weapon. Then he tossed it at her. The amulet hit her nose. Soon as contact was made, she shifted back into human form. Naked, trembling and vulnerable, she clothed herself by magick and stood.

  “Told you, Curt,” Shay said in a low voice. “How the hell can you trust her when she can turn on you in a heartbeat?”

  I’m sorry, she wanted to say, but could not find her voice. It didn’t matter. She saw the condemnation in his eyes, in the eyes of his men.

  His team, the only ones he trusted.

  “Get out,” he said tightly. “Out of my house and out of my life. Sully, go upstairs, help her pack her things. I want you gone in twenty minutes. I’ve given you enough cash to tide you over a while.”