Warrior Untamed

by Shannon Curtis

  He stared at her, concerned and just a little panicked. The pleasure, the energy that had been created between them, could have drained her almost to the point of expiration. If he’d taken that much pleasure from any other woman, he could have killed her.

  She frowned, resting her hands on her hips. “I’m fine,” she growled.

  He raised a hand toward her, saw that it was trembling and clenched it into a fist. “I mean it, Mel. What we just did—I could have killed you. Are you okay?” He needed to hear it from her properly, not some glib assurance. God, how could he have let it go so far?

  She must have seen his apprehension because she calmed, ever so slightly, and her brow relaxed. Slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine, Hunter. In fact, I’m good.” Her eyebrows rose, as though surprised by the truth in the statement. Then she frowned at him again. “And you suck, you jerk.”

  She shouldered past him, and he turned to grab up the remains of his shirt. After a tussle with Lance, and a tackle from a werewolf, it was torn to shreds, so he dropped it and jogged after her. He cast a muted glow in front of them to light the way.

  “Melissa, I’m so—” he began but she held up a hand, not bothering to turn.

  “Save it. I don’t want to hear it. We did what needed doing. You’re all juiced up. Ace. Sorry it wasn’t what you expected.” She’d started off strong, but her last words were husky, and she cleared her throat, increasing her pace down the tunnel.

  “Oh, it was a surprise, all right,” he said quietly, eyeing the swirling ribbons of color between them. She turned on him, holding up both index fingers.

  “Please. Stop. Talking.”

  He closed his eyes briefly. Maybe she was right. Every time he opened his mouth, he just made it worse. He nodded and opened his eyes as she continued walking, arms swinging as she set off at a cracking pace.

  And the light warrior’s mating bond stretched between them. He fell into step behind her. He couldn’t be mated. He shouldn’t be mated. There was something innately wrong with him. He’d dated women—hell, he wasn’t a monk—but he’d only ever really fallen for one woman, and she’d rejected him. She knew what he was like, on the inside. She’d seen his darkness. And she’d died trying to get away from him.

  He eyed the woman who was doing her best to put as much distance between them as possible. He should expect that. It hurt, but it wasn’t really surprising. His own brother had thought him capable of murder, so Melissa, the one woman who had seen him at his worst, would definitely not want to be linked for life to him. For a moment he entertained the fantasy that perhaps she would, that perhaps this woman who frustrated him and challenged him and would not back down, that perhaps she would see the good just as she’d seen the bad. That she’d want to share more with him than just pity sex.

  Her fists swung at her sides, and Hunter shook his head. Who was he kidding? Every woman he’d ever come close to loving either ran away or died. Or both. Mates were supposed to stay together, but out of all the women of his acquaintance, Melissa was most likely to run away. Or kill him. Or kill him and then run away. Their relationship so far hadn’t really suggested long-term commitment to him.

  Maybe he could fix this...?

  He tried to grab on to the link, but it was more of an aura, and completely intangible. He swung his hand through it in something resembling a karate chop, and the ribbons just ebbed and flowed around him. He kicked at it, tried to pull it, then twisted, hoping it would wrap around him and sever.

  It didn’t. He tried to separate the strands, so intent on disconnecting the link that he almost tripped over Melissa. She stood in the middle of the tunnel, arms folded, a slight frown on her face.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He whipped his hands behind his back. “Nothing,” he replied innocently.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at him as though he might be just a little crazy. He eyed the bond between them, and he wanted to laugh hysterically.

  He wasn’t crazy. He was royally screwed. He’d bonded with the bitchy witch.

  She shook her head, then turned. She took four steps, and he watched the twisting band between them, and then something gray and fast tackled Melissa to the ground, a guttural snarl coming from its throat.

  Hunter roared, shock and rage coursing through him as Melissa screamed, struggling on the ground with the figure. It had arms and legs and a head, and looked like a man—sort of. Hunter reached out, and a spark of light zinged from his fingers, catching the man off guard, propelling him back down the tunnel a good ten feet.

  The man’s head reared back, his eyes snapping red in the dark, and Hunter’s light caught the gleam of his fangs. Hunter grimaced. It looked like a vamp, but not like any he’d ever seen. The gray vampire let out a howl, tipping his head back and letting the screech reverberate through the tunnel.

  Then the vamp launched at them again, and this time Hunter didn’t hold back. He let fly with a fireball that engulfed the man. Hunter grabbed Melissa’s hand and took off running in the opposite direction, the agonized screams of the vamp following them, like a rolling wave of sound.

  Only the sound didn’t ebb, as it should have. Hunter glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened. More were running down the tunnel behind them. Gray-faced vamps with murder in their red eyes. Hunter swore, then tightened his grip on Melissa. He would not let them hurt her. They approached an intersection in the tunnel, and Hunter tugged her down the right fork. They rounded the corner, and Hunter skidded to a halt.

  Before them stood a man. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands at his sides. This one didn’t have gray skin, though. He stood roughly the same height as Hunter, with broad shoulders, and strength that was evident from the tightly roped muscles in his arms and torso to his powerful legs. His complexion was pale, almost ghostly white, and his eyes glittered an eerie pale blue, although there was a glazed, unfocused look to them. Long white hair was tied back in a braid, and Hunter warily eyed the defined wall of muscle framed by the black leather vest he wore.

  A white eyebrow arched, and the movement spurred Hunter into action. They had a gray army bearing down behind them, or this single blind albino blocking their path. He knew which odds he preferred.

  He flung a fireball at the albino, advancing forward to move around him, when the albino reacted, holding up his hands, and a dark shadow grew between them, capturing the fireball Hunter had thrown at him and dousing it effortlessly.

  Hunter halted, shocked. “What the hell are you?” he snapped.

  The albino smiled grimly, his vague stare victorious. “Your worst nightmare.” The tall man turned his hands palm out to them, and a roaring cloud of darkness swept over him and Melissa, swallowing them into the pitch-black.

  Chapter 16

  Melissa cracked her eyelids open. Her vision whirled, and she wasn’t sure if it was her head or the rest of the world that was spinning. She clung to stone, her fingers curled as she dug them into a crack to stop from flying away, and slowly her world settled. She was lying on the floor, her cheek resting on the blessedly cool surface.

  “Well, hello, darlin’.”

  The deep voice rolled over her, and she blinked before she shifted her head. The albino sat on an intricately carved chair. A fire roared behind him in a hearth that could hold her whole kitchen. The hall they were in was massive, with walls inset with timber framing, and a large stone frieze above the hearth depicting a battle of some sort. What the hell was this place?

  “Leave her alone.” Hunter’s voice was forceful, implacable, from somewhere beside her. She didn’t have the energy yet to turn and look at him, but he sounded fine. Angry, but fine.

  “What did you do to us?” she croaked at the albino.

  He smiled, and there was something that caught her attention, something that seemed so familiar, yet she
knew she’d never met this man before. Man. Vampire. Her muscles tensed. She was caught by a shadow breed. She didn’t know what the hell he was, just that he wasn’t an ordinary human. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and she had to swallow her fear. She wouldn’t give in to the panic. This would not be like last time.

  “I stopped you from hurting any more of my people,” he told her softly, and she heard the menace in his tone. He tilted his head, his unfocused gaze curious as it flicked between her and something—or someone—beside her. Hunter, she presumed. She had no idea how much this man could see, perhaps it was just movement, but he seemed to be able to track both her and Hunter unerringly. “I must admit, it’s not often we receive guests. What brings you into my territory?”

  “Who the hell are you?” Hunter snapped from beside her, and finally Melissa raised herself into a sitting position. The grogginess was beginning to fade, leaving a faint headache behind. She glanced behind her. Hunter was on his knees, his arms twisted behind his back and held by two of the gray vamps. The hall extended beyond them, and flaming torches were set in intricate iron wall sconces that were placed at regular intervals. Enough to reveal the masses gathered behind them. Positively medieval.

  Yet no guards held her. They probably thought she wasn’t a threat, after Hunter taking fiery action—again. Yet another lifesaving debt she owed him.

  Hunter met her gaze, and behind the fury she saw his relief at her awakening. She gave him a small smile to reassure him that she was fine, then turned back to the albino.

  The man rose from his seat and moved to stand beside it, his elbow resting on the carved backrest. “They call me the Dark Lord,” he told them, smiling politely.

  Hunter snorted. “Rather flashy, don’t you think? Not to mention the contradiction...”

  Melissa couldn’t believe Hunter was calling out the albino for being...an albino.

  The Dark Lord’s pale eyes flared with something that was borderline humor, but mostly exasperation. “A little. But my clan seems to think it fits.” He held out his arms. A cloud of darkness descended from the ceiling, and a coolness entered the room, the fire stuttering beneath the mantle of gloom.

  It rolled over them with the weight of a heavy blanket, and Melissa blinked, trying to peer past it. She panicked when she realized she couldn’t, and her hands rose to try to wave it away, like a fog.

  There was the snap of fingers, and the dark cloud disappeared. A chill settled in the room. The fire had died in the hearth.

  He swaggered down from the platform, his gaze on Melissa. “So, tell me, darlin’, what brings you a-visiting?”

  Melissa glanced around the hall and swallowed. A large crowd had gathered. All of the people had dark hair and varying shades of gray skin. Most had dark eyes, although she saw varying shades of eye color, as well. Good grief, the tales were true.

  The Darkken. A race of savages living in Old Irondell, eking out a living from the land without light.

  Although they didn’t look terribly savage. A little girl peered out from behind her mother’s jeans. Her skin was pale gray, with a marbling effect of darker and lighter grays. It should have looked ugly and alien, but instead the blending of color was beautiful. The little girl popped her thumb in her mouth in a universal need for comfort.

  No, the Darkken looked...almost normal, in a grayscale kind of way. Normal and alert.

  Melissa frowned as she returned her gaze back to the Dark Lord. “We’re just passing through,” she told him. She didn’t see any purpose in hiding their objective from the albino. She hoped he’d let them pass. She feared he wouldn’t.

  The Dark Lord frowned, and he stepped down toward her. “Well, see, here’s the problem. You’ve killed one of my guardians.”

  “I killed one of your guardians,” Hunter interrupted. “She hasn’t done anything.”

  The Dark Lord tilted his head, switching his attention to Hunter. “Ah, yes. The fire starter.” He rubbed his chin. “You killed Orion.” His expression became harsh. “Orion was a good man, with a wife and a baby on the way.”

  “Orion was trying to kill us,” Hunter pointed out. “It was self-defense.”

  “You were trespassing,” the Dark Lord said, his tone mild. Melissa watched the exchange warily. Both men looked and sounded like they were having a casual debate, but there was nothing casual about being held captive by the Darkken.

  The Dark Lord sighed as he folded his arms. “What am I to do with you?”

  “You could apologize for attacking us and let us be on our way,” Hunter suggested hopefully.

  Their captor’s eyes narrowed. “Or we could kill you now for your crimes,” he suggested roughly.

  “My crime,” Hunter corrected again. “Let her go.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened as she turned to gaze at Hunter. His shoulders were back, his chin lifted. For a moment, her vision blurred, and it was another man on his knees, his dark head tilted back as he begged for her life. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head. No. Hunter was not Theo. It didn’t have to end the same way.

  “But you’re a couple,” the albino said, glancing between them. “One in, all in, right?”

  Melissa frowned. While she didn’t agree with the Dark Lord’s interpretation of their relationship, she wasn’t about to abandon Hunter. Despite what had happened between them in the tunnel, Hunter had still fought for her, time and time again. He’d saved her life, and was now trying to negotiate her freedom at the risk of his own.

  Just like Theo, damn it.

  “I just want to go to my brother’s place,” she said, interrupting their exchange, calling the albino’s attention back to herself. “That’s all we want. We don’t want any trouble...” Well, she didn’t know about Hunter. He always seemed so ready for a fight. “We just want safe passage to my brother.”

  The Dark Lord’s eyebrows rose. “Is he a resident of Old Irondell?” he inquired politely.

  Melissa shook her head. “No, he’s...above.”

  The Dark Lord frowned. “He’s one of the Others...” He glanced down at his feet, his hand out as he gestured casually to her, palm up. “So, if you’re from above—which I can clearly tell that you are, and he is above...why are you below?” He turned his wrist in an elegant roll to point at the floor.

  Melissa looked at Hunter briefly. Hunter shook his head, just a little, but the Dark Lord caught the movement. He gave them each an assessing look, then leaned forward, his freaky pale blue eyes on direct level with Melissa’s. “I have news of a light warrior who has ventured into Old Irondell, and is looking for a man and a woman. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now, would you?”

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “He’s down here, too?”

  The Dark Lord’s eyes flared. “He’s issued an alert. He seems very eager to find you.”

  Hunter lifted his chin. “We’d rather he didn’t.”

  The Dark Lord smiled grimly. “I bet. But you see, he’s sworn to kill a resident of Old Irondell for every hour it takes him to find you.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened in horror as she thought of the vagrant they’d encountered. Old Irondell was home to the Darkken, and all manner of creatures, but also to humans who were homeless and vulnerable. She had no idea how many lived below, but from the numbers here, it could be substantial. Strays, the homeless...the Darkken. How could Arthur Armstrong be so angry with them that he was willing to kill so many?

  “So you can see my dilemma,” the albino said softly, and this time there was no mistaking the menace in his voice. “Not only have you killed one of my men, you’re also responsible for the death of more people under my protection.”

  “Your protection doesn’t seem to be worth much,” Hunter commented sourly.

  The albino didn’t even turn. He lashed out, his fist catching Hunter square in the jaw. “I think I
’ll just kill the both of you and be done with it. Problem solved,” he snarled.

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, kill me. I’m the one he really wants, but let her go.”

  “Hunter,” Melissa gasped. Why was he on a kamikaze mission?

  The albino stepped up to Melissa, and she tried to dodge his hand as he stroked her hair. “You’re quite the catch, aren’t you, little one?” he commented softly. “A light warrior prepared to kill for you, and another prepared to die for you...” He tilted his head, his pale blue eyes considering. “What makes you so special?”

  She met his gaze solemnly. “Do you really want to find out?” She focused on the Dark Lord, calling to her magic.

  “Melissa,” Hunter warned in a low voice.

  She ignored him. This—creature—hell, she wasn’t sure what he was, exactly. He didn’t have the blending of grays in his complexion like the rest of the Darkken, and his blue eyes were startling, mesmerizing. With his snowy white hair, he should have looked old, but his clear pale skin pulled tight over high cheekbones gave him an ageless appearance. She’d never seen anyone pull darkness forth like that, but she and Hunter needed to claw back some footing from this man, and from the Darkken. They were vampires, of a sort, that much she knew...but she also knew they were a breed apart. Living below as they did in Old Irondell, they were the very essence of a shadow breed, dwelling without direct access to light, other than what they could create.

  And she didn’t cower to the shadow breeds. She would never yield to the shadow breeds. Never. She focused her magic on the large man standing beside her.

  The Dark Lord’s eyelids flickered, and then he winced, raising his hand to his temple. She pictured her magic leeching into him, gently spreading like tendril roots from a plant, curling and sliding, delving into his mind. She did it gently, but she saw his eyes narrow, then his grimace as he held his hands to his head.

  She expanded her reach, and the two men holding Hunter suddenly clutched at their heads.