Kiss of Darkness (3 page)

The clearing was blessedly close. Two demons were down, but the third stood over her, a curved wicked-looking blade in one hand. Without thinking, Marcus drew his throwing knives and let one fly. It hit home with a thud and the demon fell. It was over much too quickly, left him feeling disappointed and cheated. He needed a good brawl. It took a few minutes to slow his heart and mind, to shake the rest of the too-short fight from his skin.

Then he got his first good look at the woman. The hybrid he’d rushed to rescue. She looked more like a maiden in a tower than a half-demon warrior. Her pale blond hair was in a single braid that almost reached her waist. Long tendrils had come free to frame her face. He had an irrational urge to touch it, wanted to know what it would feel like. Was it as smooth and silky as he imagined? Her features were delicate, a loveliness at odds with the strength and independence in her mind. At odds with the
power
of her mind. This was no ordinary hybrid.

Her stunned expression looked like an invitation. He wished it was in reaction to him, but he was in her mind, felt the poison moving swiftly through her system. She was helpless and for a brief moment he entertained taking advantage of it. His body was hard and throbbing in half a second. It was such a barbaric thought, such a primitive reaction, that it jolted him. He examined his reaction and then her mind, and came to one unavoidable conclusion.

He had to have her. In every way imaginable and then a few new ones. But it wouldn’t be tonight or even next week. It would take weeks for her to heal from the demon poison and just as long to learn to trust him, but she would. Then he would make her his.

Chapter Three

The demon was dead, and the most beautiful man Winter had ever seen was standing over him with a knife in one hand. He was tall, broad-shouldered and sleekly muscled, with midnight black hair just brushing his shoulders. He noticed her and seemed to glide forward. Smooth. Measured. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Nightwalker.

Soul eater.

Something like the vampires of myth, but subsisting on psychic energy instead of blood. He shouldn’t be on her land. Shouldn’t be rushing to her rescue. It was barely more acceptable than running into three demons in her own damned woods. He crouched before her and reached a finger out to trace the line of her jaw. If she’d had enough muscle control left, she would have flinched from the touch. Angry glacial blue eyes met hers.

“You’ve been poisoned.”

She jerked a nod. “Be fine.” The poison had reached her chest. Soon her vocal cords would stop functioning. “Few days. Sleep.”

“You can’t stay out here to recover.”

She nodded again—it was too much effort to speak—and tried to stand. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate and she almost groaned out loud. She’d have to call Gia and Dupree for help and risk the lecture. She moved her hand to her belt but her fingers wouldn’t grip, wouldn’t pop the cell phone free of its case or key the emergency button on the side.

The nightwalker snarled then bent to scoop her up. He lifted her as if she was weightless. She would have protested if she could speak, would have struggled if her body would obey her. It wasn’t wise to show this much weakness to him. Walkers weren’t the enemy, but they weren’t exactly friends either. They were simply part of an uneasy and relatively new alliance between the three supernatural races. They tended to keep their distance from hybrids like herself and the other part of the triumvirate, the lupines.

Legend said once the nightwalkers and lupines had been one race, and the disagreements that had originally divided them eons ago still held sway. It was a story she’d never been interested in hearing before, but now she wondered what truth was behind it. Some people refused to let go of the past. And when those people damned near lived forever? Well, they knew how to nurture a grudge.

She knew plenty of lupines, knew how they were a threat, knew who could be trusted. But the standoffish nightwalkers were a mystery. She only knew rumors and so she had no idea how much danger, if any, she was really in.

The walker cradled her close and stepped into the woods, striding briskly back to the trail she’d come from. The paralytic poison had completely taken over and she was limp in his arms. Defenseless. Her control of her mind’s shields was also failing, but she only felt a moment of unease. She should have been alarmed. Not too long ago he probably would have killed her on sight. Maybe the odd sense of safety was a side effect of the drug because her brain finally reengaged, tried to voice a demand that he release her. Her thinking seemed to be fine, but her ability to speak was frozen along with everything else. She fought to regain control of her body, fear rising like gorge in her throat.

Shh. I’m only taking you home.

Shit shit shit. Like hybrids, nightwalkers had varying mental powers. Wouldn’t she be unlucky enough to end up powerless with one of the walkers strong enough to get past what was left of her mental walls? She was a strong telepath, a gift from her demon, and it was rare for anyone to get into her head without invitation. Circumstances were far from optimal though.

She turned her mind inward, examined what was left of her shields and cringed at the damage. They were more like swiss cheese than the solid wall of protection they should be and she hastily tried to repair them. The damaged shields wouldn’t just leave her defenseless with him. There were other strong telepaths among the hybrids and walkers.

She worked furiously to fix the breaks, ignoring the twinge of guilt she felt for not trusting all of her own people, all the while seething at herself. She should never have lost control, never have engaged three demons by herself. Now she was more vulnerable than any hybrid, than any human. He could wipe her mind clean if he wanted to. Anyone else could strike out at her.

Stupid, Winter,
she fumed.
Really stupid.

Yes, it was.
Disapproval and anger were heavy in the male voice invading her mind.
What the hell were you thinking?

She ignored him. Refused to attempt to justify her actions to a stranger. A nightwalker. She hadn’t been thinking at all. It was an amateur mistake and she knew it, but none of his business. Didn’t change the fact she knew she’d screwed up. She should have teleported out, should have at least called for assistance before she attacked.

She’d love to pretend it was anger and her slipping control over her demon that had led to her rashness, but she forced herself to be brutally honest. She was bored, tired of the same old crap day after day, looking for a good fight, looking for something. Anything new and different, anything that would banish the sameness from her life. There was no telling how dearly she would pay for that yearning if he decided not to honor the peace between them.

Now you’re insulting me.
There was a low menacing growl inside her head. She must be losing her mind because it didn’t scare her at all. Instead she experienced a surge of satisfaction that even incapacitated she could get under his skin. She was tempted to taunt him further. The reaction made no sense and she blamed it on the poison, focused on getting away from him.

Put me down. I have a phone to call for help.
It rankled, but if she were at someone’s mercy she’d prefer it be Gia or Dupree. Them she trusted. She sensed disappointment from him over her lack of faith. Why would he expect her to trust him? She didn’t ask and he didn’t offer any explanations.

We’re almost there. There are people waiting.

She only wondered where
there
was for a moment. Of course he knew where he was going. He was in her head. Just then he broke through the tree line into the small yard at the back of the compound, the one she’d only recently departed from. Gia and Dupree were speaking quietly on the patio, froze for only half a second before both leaping forward. They might have attacked if not for the nightwalker’s loud snarl.

“What happened?” Dupree demanded.

“Demon poison,” came the curt reply.

And it was taking over. She couldn’t respond to their questions. She felt herself slipping into the long slow slide of unconsciousness. Her eyes closed against her mind’s command to pay attention.

“We’ve got her now.”

She felt a sweep of skin, knew Dupree was reaching for her. The nightwalker’s fingers convulsed around her, holding on for a second that seemed to stretch to minutes before finally letting her go. His mind brushed hers again but she wasn’t sure later if she’d imagined his whispered words or not.
Until later, Winter.
Then there was nothing but silence.

She didn’t even get his name.

Chapter Four

Winter slept for a week and spent another few days frail as the human she once was. The weakness was at varying times frustrating, infuriating and depressing, but a few weeks later she was physically one hundred percent again. Unfortunately, she was in more danger than ever of losing herself to the demon half of her soul. She spent hours sparring with Mitchell, the alpha who was the current leader of the lupines, trying to burn off the extra energy, her lieutenants tagging along half the time whether she ordered them away or not. She’d finally given up trying. She struggled less when they stuck together, but even that was just a stopgap measure. Her time was running out.

She’d been looking for a replacement for weeks. Gia and Dupree, who insisted on staying as single as she did, were not viable options. Without a bonded mate, they were at as much risk of losing control of the demon as she was. She had a couple of candidates, but every time she considered approaching one of them, every time she turned over the pros and cons of each individual, a pissed-off nightwalker made himself known in her mind. It was like he’d put a tripwire in her subconscious that alerted him every time she considered her grim future. And like clockwork…

You have a long and excellent future ahead of you.
Even though she was expecting him to show up in her head, she froze for half a second, actually forgot where she was. He didn’t sound angry tonight. His voice was smooth and sinful as dark chocolate. Just as decadent. Just as pleasurable. His anger she could take. But this sexy man who stoked a raging fire of need in her and then left her wanting was another matter.

A set of wolf claws scraped her skin an inch below her jugular. “Jesus, Winter. Pay attention,” Dupree muttered.

“That would be easier to do if I didn’t have the peanut gallery giving me advice every five seconds,” she snapped back.

That goes for you, too. Get out of my head.

Oh, but I have a right to be here, baby.

“It’d be easier if you sucked it up and just got laid,” Mitchell mumbled.

That did it. They could both go to hell. She ignored the amused laughter in her head and snarled, circling the large blue exercise mat again.

Good advice. Advice she’d love to take, except every time she made up her mind to take up Mitchell’s offer of a tumble between the sheets or find someone else equally as willing, the nightwalker’s face filled her vision. His voice whispered in her head that she was his, that her body belonged to him. She couldn’t begin to guess why she heeded his warnings. She’d never been good at following orders or giving in to coercion, but no matter how much she tried to talk herself around it she obeyed his.

It pissed her off.

She was left with only one way to appease her demon, only one way to burn off the extra energy that raged in her body as it grew in power. She hunted with Dupree or Gia, that lesson had finally sunk in at least, then she came here, to the lupine den and fought Mitchell. On the lucky nights, she expended enough energy to go home and collapse into bed for a few hours of dreamless sleep. On the unlucky nights, she dreamed and
he
haunted her. Tormented her.

Dream walking was a rare gift among hybrids. Gia was the only one she knew, but of course the nightwalkers would have some with the same abilities. And of course the one vexing her would have that power.

It was bad enough he had unhindered access to her waking mind, but to be a dream walker also? To be able to enter her dreams or pull her into his? It was hell. She woke from those nights drenched in sweat, sexual need a deep ache in her. She didn’t know why he was doing this to her, but hoped like hell he was suffering as much as she was. Because she was slowly losing her everlovin’ mind.

She ducked Mitchell’s fist just in time and was pleased when she managed to trip him as she whirled around. He hit the mat with an
oomph
and rolled to his back, but he was grinning when he looked up and met her gaze. They were both panting; they’d been at it for hours, and she leaned over, gripping her knees for support as she met his gaze with a rueful one of her own. She was winded, but nowhere near tired enough to seek her bed yet. As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, his eyes changed, turned rounder, the irises going almost golden with heat. The nightwalker was still in her mind, a growl his only warning, and with a sigh she shook her head, wishing she could take Mitchell up on his unvoiced offer.

“Still no, huh?” He leveraged himself up on one elbow before climbing to his feet. He looked at the clock hanging on the opposite wall of the den’s large gym. “Run then?”

Nodding, she left the room and jogged down the corridor to the stairs that led up and out of the main part of the den. On the landing at the top she twisted the knob on the only door and pushed it open, stepping into the large house that served as a front for the pack. Mitchell had changed form before he followed and the sleek wolf pushed by her, waited at the front door for her to open it and join him. Dupree and Gia brought up the rear.

“Y’all go home.” Before either one could protest she added firmly, “I’ll be there soon.”

They’d been with her for over sixty years and she loved them both dearly, but God help her, they were suffocating her. If she didn’t get some space soon, she knew she’d lash out. Judging by Gia’s expression, she understood and she nodded once, then blinked away in the next instant. Winter turned to meet Dupree’s glare and hardened her resolve. Friends were great, but she was his superior. And she’d had her fill of best intentions.