Desire Unchained (10 page)

eyeing Solice, a vampire nurse, as she bent to raid the fridge.

“Shade,” Roag said in his Irish brogue, “I’m trying to talk our brothers into going to

Brimstone. They’re refusing. Again.”

“Why do you even try? No one wants to go.” Not even Wraith was crazy enough to hang

out in lust-filled demon bars.

But Roag no longer cared about consequences. He was a slave to his instincts and libido.

Even now, as he watched Solice, the scent of lust rolled off him in waves. Licking his lips, he

crossed to her, hauled her against him, and shoved her face-first into the wall.

Eidolon cleared his throat. “No sex in the break room. You know the rules.”

As though he hadn’t heard, Roag continued to caress the nurse, and Shade braced for a

battle. But when Eidolon took his first step toward the pair, Roag backed down. “You’re so

uptight, E.”

“I’ll meet you at the bar when I get off shift,” Solice purred, and Roag grinned.

“We’ll play spank the naughty nurse.” He nipped her earlobe and released her. She

swayed, affected by his incubus pheromones as he stalked toward the door. Most females would
avoid a post
s’genesis
Seminus demon if they recognized what he was, but since vampires

couldn’t conceive—except in Wraith’s mother’s lone case—vamps had no reservations about

screwing them.

“Idiot,” Shade said as the door closed behind Roag. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

Once he was gone, Wraith came to his feet, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “One can only

hope.”

“Shade?”

Shade blinked out of the replay of the day Roag had been killed. He’d dozed off, and

gods, he’d much rather be back in the dream than in the reality he’d awakened to.

He looked at Runa as she stared down at him and his heart pounded. It was only a matter

of time before he fell for her, and the consequences of his emotional weakness would make a

lingering death seem fun in comparison.

Shade had never feared anything, but the
Maluncoeur
, cast on him by a pissed-off

warlock eighty years ago, scared the ever-living crap out of him, and if he wasn’t careful, Runa

would be his doom. Because even now, his body was surging to life, demanding that he possess

her over and over, until she became addicted to him. And it
would
happen. With every orgasm,

his semen would bond her more strongly to him, a chemical process that would result in more

powerful, longer orgasms and a release of endorphins that would linger for hours. In short, she

would learn to crave him as much as he craved her.

If only he hadn’t given in to the needs of the human female so long ago, the beautiful

silent film starlet who had fucked her way to fame and who demanded rough, violent sex from

Shade as a form of penance. If only he’d not killed her husband when he found Shade naked with

his tied-up wife. If only that husband hadn’t been a warlock who’d thrown the curse at Shade in

his last, dying moments.

I call thee, servant of Evil, Demon of Vengeance, I call thee, Arioch, who giveth revenge,

who taketh away life. I command thee, bind this demon to the
Maluncoeur
, to a life eternal of unslakable thirst, relentless hunger, unending pain, unrelieved desires. He shall not know love,

lest he pass into shadow and
Maluncoeur
. Come hither, Come hither. Accomplish my will.

Eighty years later, the warlock’s words were as clear as the day they’d been uttered

through bloodied lips.

Runa patted his cheek with a cold hand. “Hey. You awake?”

He brushed her hand away before he did something stupid, like pull her down on top of

him. It didn’t escape his attention that she still didn’t bear the mate markings on her arm. “What

is it?”

“Someone’s coming.”

“Finally.” Snapping out of his haze, he came to his feet and slid, naked, against the cold

stone wall. Footsteps rang out—soft, light. Definitely female.

Fucking perfect.

He eased toward the cell door, where the shadowed corner would hide him. He gestured

to Runa, who fell into place on the floor as they’d discussed, a length of chain wrapped around

her neck.

She did a damned good job of looking dead.

Shade was going to do an equally good job of looking invisible.

As he slipped into the splash of darkness near the door, he shivered, his skin cells shifting

and darkening until he couldn’t see his own hand. Very few beings could detect him now, thanks

to the inherited Umber demon ability to turn to shadow in the presence of shadow.

The footsteps fell harder, louder. A second pair.

Breathing slowly, evenly, to keep his heartbeat steady, he waited, hoping whoever was

approaching wasn’t sensitive to the sound of beating hearts and rushing blood. Vampires,

especially, were a pain in the ass that way.

“Master said you no come here!” Desperation bled into the harsh whisper of a male

outside the door.

“I want to see the Seminus,” the female voice purred. “Roag and I aren’t bonded yet, so I

can do what I want. He doesn’t know I’ve returned from Eternal. I have time to play.”

Through the bars on the door, Shade could scent her lust, and for the first time in eighty

years, he didn’t experience even the smallest stirring of arousal.

He slid a glance at Runa, and his dick jerked. Damned bond.

The female peeked through the bars. Her pale, translucent skin, violet eyes, and pointed

ears identified her as a Bathag, a cave-dwelling species. So … Roag had found himself a female

to bond with.

“He’s gone. Who let him out?” She rattled the door. “He killed the warg.”

“No do this,” the male cried. “No!”

The iron lock clicked. The door swung open, and the female stepped inside, looked

directly at him. He held his breath, tried—and failed—to keep his heart rate down. After a long

moment, the Bathag turned away.

As she moved toward Runa, Shade struck, both hands clamped on either side of her

head—but at the last second he didn’t snap her neck. He should, but if what she said about

bonding with Roag was true, his brother was in love with her.

She could be useful.

Runa leaped to her feet. “Behind you!”

He whirled, blocked a strike from the male who’d followed the female inside. In three

moves, he had the skeletal demon broken and dead, and Runa had the female face-down on the

floor. Runa straddled the Bathag, one hand holding the back of her neck, the other wrenching the

Bathag’s arm behind her back.

Though he scarcely had time to dick around, he stood back for a moment and admired the

sight of his mate overpowering and—

Shit. He shook himself out of it. “We’ve got to go.”

Runa’s eyes shot wide. “Shade!”

Two Darquethoths burst into the cell, their fluorescent eyes, lips, and slashes in their

obsidian skin glowing bright orange in the dim dungeon light. They moved fast, but he tore

through them, making an opening for Runa as they spun away.

“Come on!” he shouted, and grunted as a rope wrapped around his neck. One of the

Darquethoths slammed him into the cell door. Pain sliced up his spine.

A roar of rage echoed through the dungeon, and then Runa was there in a flurry of fists

and feet, ripping some impressive moves on the Darquethoths. The rope slipped free, and he

planted his fist in a Darquethoth’s face. The male crumpled to the ground at the same time as the

other, who had taken a blow to the head from Runa’s foot.

The Bathag struggled to her feet. When she locked eyes with Shade, she hissed, and the

ground began to shake. A stone in the ceiling crashed to the floor in a cloud of dust, and shit, she

was going to bring the entire place down.

Runa’s pupils dilated and narrowed wildly. Her fingers elongated. Night was falling as

fast as the ceiling. Shouts came from somewhere. More Keepers.

“We have to go!” He grabbed Runa’s arm. He wished they could take Roag’s female with

them, but the Bathag would slow them down.

The ground beneath them rolled and bucked as they dashed out of the cell.

Ahead, two Keepers fought to stay on their feet. Shade went through them like a bowling

ball through pins. Without slowing, he dragged Runa up the narrow, winding staircase. They

burst out of the stairwell and out onto a grassy expanse. Gray mist surrounded them, featureless

save for the thick tendrils that swirled at their feet. Here and there, the veil thinned, allowing a

view of rocky cliffs and scraggy trees in the distance. Behind them, a stone wall rose sharply,

disappearing into the fog.

They’d been held in a castle.

“Where are we?”

“Ireland, I think.” A guess, based on the landscape, but also on Roag’s background. Upon

his first maturation, he’d emerged from Sheoul, the demon realm deep inside the earth, to live

among humans in various Irish cities, eventually becoming involved with the IRA. Nothing

excited him more than causing trouble.

Runa doubled over, panting, though he suspected her respiratory issues had less to do

with exertion than with her impending change into a warg. “What was all that about? The

shaking.”

“The Bathag … they have control over earth and water. They can cause tsunamis,

earthquakes, all kinds of shit if they’re riled. She was pissed.” Angry shouts interrupted, sending

him into his own bout of spastic breathing. “We gotta go, babe. I’d love to stay and play, but it

seems like this stupid bond has brought out some seriously protective instincts.”

“I can take care of myself.” Her voice was soft but infused with steel. Just like her gaze.

He took her in, aware that time was running out, but not wanting to deprive himself of

this moment. She had a warrior’s soul, a fighter’s resolve. It called to him, overriding his

common sense.

He grabbed her around the waist and tugged her up against him. At the same time, his

skin tightened and his blood flushed hot. He wanted to take her right then and there. Hell’s fires.

“I know you can. But I can make sure you don’t have to.”

Knowing the smart thing would be to leave her here to get herself killed, he cursed the

bond, took her hand once again, and dragged her toward the forest.

Runa kept up with Shade, welcoming the stitch in her side and the way her lungs burned

with every breath. She was free, and the fresh, crisp evening air ignited an urge to run, howl.

Hunt.

“It’s coming.”

He stopped so suddenly she nearly ran into him. “Roag?”

She inclined her head toward the horizon, where a sliver of the day’s last light peeked

through the curtain of mist. “Night. I’m turning.”

“Where do you usually go?”

“Does it matter? We’re thousands of miles away from the United States.”

“I can get us anywhere in minutes. Now, where do you go?”

She had a comfortable cage on the Army base, a secret installation beneath Washington,

D.C., that ingeniously used the pentagram and hexagram layout of the city to its advantage. The

symbols of Masonic significance, mistakenly believed by some to be satanic in nature, provided

protection against evil while enhancing defensive magic.

Obviously, she couldn’t tell Shade about it or take him there. Civilians weren’t allowed

anywhere near the operation. Demons were, but only if they were restrained, part of the R-XR

program … or dead.

“My house in New York. I have a setup in the basement.”

Not that she’d been there in months; she’d been too busy working with the Army to go

home. Who’d have thought there were so many were-creatures in the world? She spent most of

her days traveling the globe to were-beast hot spots, mostly coming back to D.C. only for the full

moons. She loved the travel, the challenge of tracking down others like her, most of whom were

tagged and left unharmed. The military seemed to think that in the event of a battle between

humans and demons, weres and shapeshifters could play a vital role, and the military wanted

them fighting on the side of humans.

Shade shook his head, but his alert gaze never ceased scanning the area around them. His

muscular body sang with restrained power, and his sharply defined tribal
dermoire
lent an

uncivilized, predatory quality to him. Amongst the haunting, untamed landscape, he fit right in.

All he needed was a broadsword, and he could have been an ancient warrior, built for two

things—fighting and sex. She shivered in a primal, feminine response to the image of Shade

claiming a victory in battle, and then claiming her.

“Roag might know who you are,” Shade said. “I don’t want the Ghouls finding you.”

Panic flared, making her heart thunder violently in her chest. Or maybe the tight,

strung-out feeling inside was just the werewolf wanting out. “We have to do something. If I

change …”

She trailed off, not wanting to voice the problems that could come from changing into a

slavering, murderous beast that would probably kill Shade and then run off in search of human

victims.

“I know.” Shade lifted his face to the sky, as if he wanted to let loose a howl. She knew

the feeling.

“What are you doing?”

“Probing for a Harrowgate. Roag wouldn’t base his operation far from one.”

Harrowgate.
An underworld transportation system. The Army had been trying to figure