Gathering Darkness: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Anna Zaires

  Hegra’s tits.

  What the hell was a pixie doing wearing demon runes? Her mind dragged up the memory of the look on his face and the darkness in his eyes, and thrust it right behind her eyes. He was half demon. He had to be. Nothing else would be able to pull that kind of power. What was a half-demon doing working for Sellers though? She was powerful, but demons were on a whole different scale. A half demon, hell, even a quarter-demon would piss all over Sellers’ pathetic little Dragos enchantment.

  The lift pinged open and six faces looked at them in unison. Her breath left her lungs in a rush when Duke wasn’t among them. Unable to move, she cut a glance at Rat. Shit. She had to do something. But what? These were all humans and Rat…wasn’t.

  “Out,” he growled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Now.”

  The six occupants needed no further encouragement, and fled the confines of the lift in silence with pale faces. Terror streamed from their pores like perfume, trailing after them. Vivid splashes of scent for a creature who saw the world that way.

  Rat entered the lift, and when he clicked his fingers, she did as well, standing to face him. Her body automatically assumed an ‘at ease’ position, variants of which had been the default resting position for soldiers throughout the ages. She met his look with a glare, cursing him in the back of her mind.

  “What’s the matter Chase?” He smirked. “Cat got your tongue?”

  If she could have lifted her hand she’d have flipped him the bird, a gesture from this day and age she particularly liked. Bastard knew she couldn’t talk. The pressure that had been a tight band around her head eased up and she sighed in relief.

  Bastard.

  He chuckled, his smile easy and disturbingly attractive. “Why, thank you, I am.”

  What are you? You’re not just a pixie, that’s for sure.

  He folded his arms over his chest, muscles bulging under the tattooed skin. His expression was hard, implacable and she shivered. She’d seen people do that before. Go from laughing and joking to stone-cold emotionless in the blink of an eye. Usually they were as dangerous as hell.

  “And here I was thinking you were intelligent, dragon.” He threw the last word at her with a sneer.

  The door pinged and slid open but not onto the lobby she was expecting. Instead they stepped into a long corridor she hadn’t seen before. Rat pushed off, not even bothering to click his fingers any more to make her follow and she realized that he’d never needed to. The gesture had been mere showmanship.

  You know, or suspect, exactly what I am. He slid into her mind with an ease that scared her. Hurriedly, she slammed mental blocks into place, locking all her thoughts and memories away from his prying eyes. Amusement pushed against her as he preceded her down the corridor. Child’s tricks, but don’t worry. I’m not after anything in your head. This method of communication is…. More secure, shall we say?

  He doesn’t know what you are. She didn’t bother sugar-coating it, nor did she wipe the curiosity from her mind. There was no point. A person would have to be dead not to be curious what a half-demon was doing working for a twat like Sellers.

  Never judge a book by its cover, or assume a person’s motivations. He looked back over his shoulder and, as she watched, the darkness in his eyes disappeared under the blue-gray color she was used to seeing. A lighter color, she realized suddenly, than was normal for a pixie. Might makes right, the end justifies the means. Not all that glitters is gold…and not all that is light is good.

  What the hell is this? Riddle night? she snapped, trying to get a good look at the corridor they were walking down.

  She hadn’t missed the slight shiver against her skin when they’d stepped from the lift; a classic sign of a teleportation spell. And all her instincts told her that they were underground, somewhere near Sellers’ lair. But these corridors had been all dank and dark. Should have been rough sewerage tunnels leading to bare rock. They’d changed, which meant Sellers was getting stronger. A lot stronger. And that was so not a good sign.

  A door loomed ahead, swinging open to reveal a gaggle of Red Caps. Spotting the two walking up the corridor, they started to giggle, the high-pitched sound grating on what was left of Chase’s nerves.

  “Hahahaha! Rat found the dragon-bitch!”

  “Sellers is maaaaaaad!”

  “Dragon gonna get it! Dragon gonna get it!”

  So, you…big scary half-demon, are content to be ordered around by a little piss-ant like Sellers? You expect me to believe that?

  Rat didn’t answer her, instead striding through the doors and into the main hall beyond. Whatever magic he was using yanked her along for the ride, but as soon as she got through the door, she forgot all about how he was controlling her in favor of shock.

  The last time she’d seen the hall, when Sellers had beaten her, she could easily see through his little illusion spell. Now though, it was complete and rang—pulsed—with power. He had gotten stronger.

  “Well, well…the prodigal daughter returns.”

  Rat’s magic turned her and Sellers came into her field of vision. Instead of the leather couch he’d manifested before, he now sat on a throne. The full on, real deal made of gold and encrusted with gemstones. Dressed head to toe in black silk, he lounged with one leg folded over the other, a goblet dangling idly from one hand.

  He twisted his wrist, as though swirling liquid in the bottom but she didn’t need to smell the coppery-sweet aroma that rose into the air with the movement to know it was blood. Not when he smiled and she could see the evidence painted over his lips.

  Heart in her throat, her gaze cut to Baby’s cage. Sure enough, the little dragonet lay slumped on the floor behind the bars. Her scales were almost translucent.

  “You bastard,” she roared, not realizing that Rat had released his hold on her throat until her roar of fury filled the air. “If you’ve killed her I am going to end you. I’m going to fucking roast you. Slowly. I’ll cook you from the toes up, inch by inch. I’ll boil your intestines in your own fat and spit-roast your heart on my talon while you watch!”

  The warlock chuckled, and lifted the glass again. As he took a sip she could see the power pulsing through him. Stolen power. Stolen life.

  Guilt hit her hard and fast as she raged against Rat’s hold. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, so full of ego, she’d have given into her own instincts and followed the damn warden’s advice. She’d have had sex with her mate, broken the control spell and be facing Sellers with all her powers, not held in thrall by a bastard demon. Instead, her damn pride may have cost Baby—the baby she’d sworn to protect—her life.

  A keening cry rose in the back of Chase’s throat, drawn from her very soul— Baby’s slumped form in her cage fuzzy from the tears obliterating her vision. The small female hadn’t even been old enough to shift to human and claim her own name. Like all those in the royal line, she hadn’t been born human, but had been hatched. An ancient way to prove an heir was pure-blooded enough to take the throne. A throne she’d never sit on now.

  “You’ve been holding out on me.” Sellers demanded, rising from his throne and throwing the goblet down to shatter on the floor. As he strode forward, an enterprising Red Cap mopped up the traces of blood that had spilled on the floor. “Haven’t you…Rat?”

  Confusion swamped the pixie’s face an instant before he was swamped by Red Caps. The enchantment holding Chase in place loosened off and she shouted a warning just in time for him to duck and avoid decapitation by pike. Unable to move, she shifted her throat long enough to roast the three trying to gut him. Their dying screams were overlaid by the jaunty jingle that announced their deaths.

  But this was no fight in the alley against a few. Sellers had hordes of Red Caps at his command. She raced to Rat’s side, grabbing a few and hauling them off him into the wall behind them. They hit with a sickening crunch, sliding down the wall to land in crumbled heaps that moaned pitifully.

  “Enough!” Sellers roared and waved his hand.


  Chase found herself locked down again, her arm raised in a blow that didn’t reach its target. The Red Cap snickered and made a foul gesture, then stuck its tongue out at her. She memorized its face, so she could track it down and rip that fucking tongue right out its head later.

  “Leave them alone,” the Dragos ordered, walking down the steps from his throne toward them. With surprise she realized that Rat was immobile as well. At least she did when he was carried by a group of Red Caps in front of her, body frozen in mid-step. What the hell? Rat was demon…there was no way Sellers should be able to freeze him like that.

  Sellers appeared in front of her, stepping right in to look directly into her eyes. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t even take a step back to get away from his halitosis.

  “Honor isn’t the only dragon-mate, is she, Chase?”

  He knew. A chill ran down her spine but she was too old at this game to give anything away. There was no way she was giving Duke up. Even if they had mated, which they hadn’t, no dragon would give their sole reason for living over to someone like Sellers to be used as a sacrifice. Instead she gave him her best blank face. It was a good one, no one had ever been able to beat her at runes back in the barracks. Besides, she couldn’t answer when he had her locked out with magic.

  Sellers’ eyes shifted, and he snorted in frustration. A wave of his hand and the pressure eased up on her throat so she could talk. “I don’t know what you’re going on about.”

  “Oh, come now, my dear.” He stroked the side of her cheek, his face so close that she could see the tiny broken veins under the skin of his nose. His skin there was ruddy, the effect of too much alcohol if she didn’t miss her guess. Typical of the sort of man who would use a Dragos charm.

  He grabbed her jaw, strong fingers biting deep, snarling so close to her face that spittle splattered across her skin. “We both know that there’s more going on behind that pretty face than the dumb blonde act you’re trying to feed me. So fucking stop it.”

  He shoved her away, knocking her off balance. Wincing internally, she waited to hit the ground, but it didn’t happen. Twenty small hands grabbed her, supporting her body. The Red Caps. Instead of letting her fall, they hefted her up.

  “Get her over there next to him,” Sellers ordered, motioning them ahead of him. She tried to struggle, to find some away to break Sellers’ control but it was just as futile as it always was. Her magic was still locked away, so close that she could feel it, but whenever she tried to touch it, it was like an invisible door was in the way. She raged and pushed against it, trying to loop what little power she could glean from her dragon back and over on itself.

  The Red Caps giggled to themselves, racing with her across the room to bundle her onto a high altar. She sucked in a hard breath when her back hit the cold stone, a vicious shove from several hands turning her on her side.

  Rat lay opposite on an identical altar, his big body relaxed as if in sleep. No, not in sleep. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, then broke away to roll down his skin. He was fighting the enchantment. She held her breath, ignoring Sellers and his evil little minions moving around in the background. Rat was fighting the enchantment and winning. As she watched, his head began to turn toward her, his lips moving hesitantly at first, then with more assurance.

  Their gazes locked. His lips moved again and she felt the pressure over her body beginning to lift. Only a tiny amount, but she could feel it. Elation flooded her. Whatever Rat was doing, the doorway between her and her magic had begun to weaken.

  “Now, now, my dearies…you’re going to help me sort this little mate problem I have.” Sellers laughed as he walked between them, beginning to chant as he did so.

  Chase frowned, trying to make the words out but his pronunciation was off. As though he’d only ever read the words in a book and never heard them spoken. The magic around him seemed equally confused, the witching flaring to life one moment only to flicker the next, like a candle about to go out.

  The words were familiar, but it wasn’t a branch of magic she’d paid much attention to. More hedge-witchery than anything. She followed the words, working out the correct pronunciation and the spell came to her.

  Her eyes snapped open. Hegra’s tits, it was a bloody love spell. The control collar’s hold weakened enough for her to slam her head back against the stone. Whether she broke it or not made no difference though if he completed that incantation. Even without knowing the correct pronunciation, the witching had begun to respond to him, forming the sigils of the spell in the air. Arcane sigils formed from magic itself, wrapping around two others, symbols that represented both her and Rat.

  “No!” The pixie bellowed, still fighting the immobility spell. He’d managed to get his shoulders and chest free, and thrashed on the stone, but his arms and legs were still frozen. “You god-damned idiot. You’re playing with forces you have no clue about!”

  Sellers laughed, the sound ringing with arrogance. “Yes, yes, my dear. And I’m sure you’re going to roast my intestines as well, just like our dear Miss Nightborne. Really, these threats are getting rather boring.”

  He finished the incantation, the last word ringing in the air like a death knell. Chase squeezed her eyes shut as the magic wrapped around her. Settled into her bones. Caged her heart. Quickly she wrapped up her memories and feelings for Duke and locked them down tight, so deep that they were nearly with her dragon. She needed to preserve them, protect them, because the next time she opened her eyes, the magic would convince her that she was in love with someone else.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They were at one of Sellers’ clubs. Oh, not his official ‘day job’ clubs. The gentlemen’s clubs where the alcohol was almost as old as she was and discreet encounters in one of the upstairs rooms could be arranged with a quick nod of the head. Places that reeked of class, with the wood paneling to match.

  This place reeked all right, but not of class. Instead it reeked of desperation and blood. Of tears and pain, hopelessness and despair. And there was no getting out.

  Poured into a dress that exposed far too much of everything for her liking, and heels that would break her ankles before the night was out, Chase staggered, and bumped into Rat. He wrapped an arm around her, saving her from falling gracelessly to the floor and she couldn’t help but shoot him a grateful look. He smiled back, and, as if on instinct, his hand swept down her back, lingering in the curve of her waist.

  She stiffened but then her body took over, the love potion Sellers had fed to them both over-ruling her need to get away from a man not her mate. Her struggle was reflected in Rat’s face, the darkness in his eyes flaring for a second only to be snuffed out and frustration replace it.

  “Got it?” he asked, sweat beading on his brow as he forced himself to release her.

  She nodded, quickly stepping away from him to save them both the temptation. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”

  Behind them, Sellers chuckled. “Fight it all you like, my dears. It won’t make a blind bit of difference.”

  Rat flipped him the bird, saving Chase the need to and she walked on ahead into the club. She’d been here before, of course. Unlike the upmarket elegance of Sellers’ other clubs, which she’d been too rarely, the only paneling here was the wood covering the concrete floor.

  The club was dimly lit, and tables surrounded a pit in the floor. Mostly male, the patrons were dressed expensively and she knew the champagne filling the glasses would be the good stuff. It always was. Despite the rough surroundings, tickets to this club and others like it over the city, were highly sought after. They were also very costly, for one reason. The higher the price, the higher the stakes. No one who’d spent a king’s ransom to be here and view the ‘delights’ on offer would risk it all by selling Sellers out to the authorities.

  And they all made her sick. This wasn’t a normal club, not at all. This was the sort of club where not all those in attendance were human, or even there of their own volition. Which was what
these leeches paid top dollar for.

  Sellers strode past them, snagging a microphone from one of the hovering suited-up lackeys. She ignored them. Sellers’ gophers in the human world, they weren’t worth bothering about.

  “Gentlemen!” Sellers made his way to the opposite side of the pit, spotlighted while the gaping yaw of darkness opened in front of him. It was empty at the moment, but the guests all tried to peer into it anyway. She snorted. As if they’d have been able to see anything anyway, what with their weak human vision.

  “So good of you to join me this evening. And let me tell you, we have some treats in store for you tonight!”

  She turned away, letting Sellers’ voice fall into the background, and made her way to the table at the back of the room. It was set away from the rest and, typically for her egomaniac ‘master’, raised on a small dais. She turned, automatically scanning the layout of the room and its occupants. Open-plan with little cover, it wouldn’t be an easy place to defend.

  Another abandoned building, this time what looked like a warehouse, the ceiling was high and dark beyond the pendant lighting that had been installed as part of the ‘club refit’. Too high. Too dark. Anyone could be watching from up there, the old windows were barely proof against the elements, let alone a determined intruder. But then, the only people likely to attack were the authorities…or her mate, so she didn’t plan on defending anything. Certainly not Sellers’ worthless ass.

  “He’s got detection spells rigged all over the place.”

  Rat followed her gaze for a moment, then dropped to sprawl effortlessly over the low, padded seating that ran around the table in a semi-circle. Unbidden, her gaze followed him, noting the way he moved. Admiring the hard, muscular body under the suit Sellers had picked out for him, just like he’d picked out her outfit; a skimpy shift dress that exposed most of her arms and legs.