A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray

Chapter 9

Willow

Maddox thrashedagainst his chains and Warrick strode to him, his feet crunching over the salt, and crouched down. “Calm, brother,” he said as he undid the shackles around Maddox’s ankles and wrist. Maddox made an agonized sound and his hand came up, gripping his head.

Warrick loomed over him and said something deep and guttural, the words sounding brutal, harsh, in a language I’d never heard before.

Maddox shook his head, and his eyes flashed red.

“Get back,” Warrick said to me.

He didn’t need to warn me twice. I scrambled back as Maddox exploded into his hellhound form, enormous body, black shaggy fur, and terrifying red eyes. Warrick stood in front of him, still speaking in a different language. Maddox shook his head and made a sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

Maddox’s boxy head turned to me, and there was horror in his red eyes.

“Brother,” Warrick growled out.

He made that awful pain-filled sound once more and, with a burst of energy, Maddox smashed through the door and ran off.

The hellhound alpha strode to the hall, snatched his phone from his pile of clothes, and hit someone’s number. “Maddox is coming, let him past then follow him. Don’t let him out of your sight, but stay back.”

I grabbed my clothes from the hall and shoved them on over the oily mess on my skin.

“What were you saying to him?” I asked Warrick when he walked back in carrying his jeans.

His expression was troubled as he pulled them on. “I told him it wasn’t his fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t. That spirit latched on to him and there was nothing he could’ve done to stop it.” I tugged my shirt over my head.

“He knows that. But when the spirit left and he shifted to his hound form, I could see what was in his head, and all I could see was the female he killed. His mind was filled with the memory of hurting her, of tearing her open.”

This surprised me somewhat. “Sure, he’s upset he killed Jane, of course he is, but why is he—”

Warrick growled. “We don’t harm innocent females. Ever. Not human, not vampire or shifter…” His lids lowered, looking at me under thick, dark lashes. “Not witch.”

The vehemence in his words and on his face surprised me as well. “What about demon?”

His expression remained intense. “Not all demons want to cause harm. There are good and bad among all species.”

“Of course,” I said, though I hadn’t met any full-blooded demons that I’d like to be BFFs with lately. I began to gather my things.

“You think we could just kill an innocent without regret?”

“I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

“Not that,” he growled.

“Right.”

Warrick grabbed my arm, pulling me back up. “Our kind don’t have females, mating with other species is how we reproduce. Our sons are hellhound, our daughters take after their mothers, whatever that may be. We don’t hurt females, we worship them.”

I’d had no idea. “Are you telling me Jane and Maddox were together?”

Warrick’s eyes flashed. “She was his mate. She carried his pup in her womb.”

I blinked up at him, stunned. “Mate? I didn’t realize.” Now I felt like an asshole.

“We have many mated brothers. Two of them live here with their mates and pups. We have a family den deeper in the tunnels, larger quarters, where we can keep them safe.”

This was news to me, and there was no hiding my surprise. “But only two live here? Where are the rest?”

“My brothers outlived their females, and any daughters they had.”

His expression didn’t change at that heartbreaking statement. “That’s awful. And your sons?”

“They’re immortal, like us. Relic is Lothar’s son…and there are others.”

“So does that mean your brothers took demon mates? You lived in Hell most of your life.”

“Some. Like I said, not all demons are out to cause harm, and there aren’t only demons in Hell.”

Again, this was news to me. “Do you have children?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“No.” His gaze did not falter from mine. “Not until I claim my mate.”

Okay, time to end this line of questioning. “So where would Maddox have gone?”

The muscles in his massive biceps flexed, and he shook his head. “Maddox has gone beast, he’s taken to the woods. He needs time to come to terms with what happened.”

Well, fuck. How did you come to terms with killing your mate and unborn child? I had no idea. Obviously, hounds weren’t as completely heartless as I thought they were, or at least not all of them.

Warrick left to speak to his brothers, and I got to work warding the clubhouse. It was a long and repetitive process. Every two hours I had to walk the perimeter, reciting a spell that was long and complicated. It strengthened the ward with each pass, and with how many lived here, the more passes I could make, the better. Which was why I needed as much time as I did.

It was dark, and I was on my third walk around for the night when one of the hounds approached. I didn’t know him, though I’d seen him here before, of course. And as he drew closer, my knife began to vibrate low against my hip. Danger. This male posed a threat to me.

This surprised me, honestly. My knife had never reacted to any of the hounds like this, not once since I’d been coming here. If they’d even contemplated hurting me, my blade would have picked up on it and warned me.

Hellhounds were, I assumed, like other wild animals—sudden movements weren’t a great idea when they were in attack mode, so I stayed completely still. The level of vibration from my knife remained low. He didn’t want to kill me, but he did want to hurt me in some way. I stopped what I was doing and slowly faced him completely, the hilt of my blade slipping into my hand. “What do you want?”

He glanced at my knife and growled, but kept coming.

The vibrations running through it stayed the same. He had no intention of stopping. I scanned his face, searching for any sign of possession, but there was nothing.

He wanted to scare me and that didn’t justify me killing him. I stood my ground. “Stop.”

He didn’t.

“Don’t make me cut you, asshole.”

He advanced and grabbed my wrist. Despite my blade’s warning, I was still shocked that one of Warrick’s brothers would do this. The knife was gripped in the same fist, and he tugged me forward. “You could try, little female, but I’ll make you bleed right back.”

I didn’t want to throw Warrick’s name around, it would scream pathetic-weak-female to a male like this, but I would to stop this, whatever this was. With everything that was happening here at the clubhouse with Maddox and Edric, and locking the place down to keep more spirits out, some of the hounds were bound to be going through some stuff. How much had Warrick told them all? Maybe he thought I’d caused this? “I’m sorry about your brothers, but it has nothing to do with me.”

“I know.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To fuck you, right here on the ground,” he said, his eyes now glowing red.

Again, I stood there stunned. Had he really just said that?

He squeezed my wrist tighter; the force making me wince, and if I didn’t do something soon, he’d snap it. “You really want to risk pissing off your alpha?”

The hound barked out a gravelly laugh. “Warrick is weak. You weaken him. You turn him down in front of us. If I have you, they’ll know I’m more of a male than he is.” He dipped his head, his hot breath washing over my face. “He won’t take you, but I will. I’ll show him, I’ll show all of my brothers who is alpha.”

My free hand was pressed against his massive chest, trying to hold him off. “That logic is seriously messed up. And if you even try it, I will fucking end you.” And I meant it with everything in me. Or I’d die trying.

“Your tiny knife won’t do shit. I’ll heal as soon as you pull it from my flesh.”

I opened my mouth but never got the chance to curse him out. He swept my feet out from under me and threw me to the ground, his massive body coming down on top of me fast. So incredibly fast.

I slammed my hand against his ear, and when he reared back, I punched him in the throat.

He was ten times stronger than me, but I sure as fuck wasn’t defenseless, and he was about to learn why he’d made a mistake coming for me. A thick branch lay at the base of a nearby tree. I called it to me, and it flew through the air and slammed into the side of his head. He roared and his grip loosened on my wrist. I tugged my hand free as his claws extended from the ends of his fingers and he shoved my legs apart with another roar of rage, those vicious claws slicing my inner thighs and tearing up my favorite jeans.

With a cry, I shoved my blade into his side, and he snarled, his face partially shifting into his hound, his jaws snapping, and thankfully missing my face. I stuck him again, and he sprang off me, shifted fully, and lowered his head, about to attack again.

“I throw this”—I held up my blade—“and you lose an eye.”

He roared a third time, so loud and with such force, my hair blew back, then he turned and ran off.

Motherfucker.

I groaned and pushed myself up.

The scratches stung like hell and I wanted to go inside, take a shower, wash off the oil on my skin, and now the blood on my scratched-up thighs, but I had to finish spelling the perimeter. Stopping now would mean having to start from the beginning all over again.

It took half-an-hour longer than usual with me limping around, while watching out in case that fucker came back, and when I walked inside the clubhouse, everyone was eating. There was a table laid out, groaning with food. I had two hours to eat, shower, and nap before I needed to go back out there and do it all over again, and right then the most pressing sensation I had, after pain, was hunger. So I hobbled to the table, grabbed a plate, and loaded it with steak, potatoes, and rolls.

“What the hell happened to you?” Ren said, suddenly at my side, gaze raking over me. “Was it the hound you exorcised?”

He looked kind of banged up as well, but not too bad, thankfully. I didn’t have the energy to fight another one of these big bastards tonight. “Nope, but I’m fine. What happened to you?”

“Training.”

“If you’re having second thoughts…”

“I’m not. I want to keep training, and I’m more interested in why you’re bruised and bleeding,” Ren said, his expression growing more intense. No, pissed. This was his pissed-off face.

“It was just some asshole…”

Warrick was suddenly in front of me, growling, the sound vibrating through his wide chest. “You’re bleeding. Why the fuck are you bleeding?” he said, lifting my wrist and checking out the fresh bruise there. I hadn’t even noticed it. “Someone held you by the throat,” he said with so much fury I winced. And only then realized it hurt there, too. I guess the fucker had grabbed my throat at some point.

“One of your brothers, with delusions of grandeur, thought it would be fun to try to force himself on me. Apparently, the fact that you haven’t, makes you weak.”

His gaze sliced down my body, taking in my tattered jeans stained with my blood, and he roared so loud the windows rattled. I froze, stunned at the violence of his reaction. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, silence filling the big space.

One of Warrick’s massive hands cupped the back of my head and he drew me against him, his nose dropping to my throat, pressing in and breathing deep. His head jerked back. “I will fucking kill him,” he said. “I will make him bleed.” He barked out words at Jagger in that same guttural language he had used with Maddox, then turned back to me.

“I stabbed him,” I said, trying to calm things down. “I already made him bleed. He took off. I doubt he’ll come anywhere near me again.”

Warrick said nothing, grabbed my hand, and led me through the room. I limped behind him, trying to keep up, and as soon as we were out of sight of the rest of the hounds, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me down the stairs.

I wanted to tell him to put me down, that I didn’t need him to carry me, but I realized in that moment, that I kind of did, and I appreciated that he waited until no one saw, so I didn’t appear weak. At least he understood how important that was to me.

He shoved the door to his room open and kicked it shut behind us, then carried me into his bathroom. It was a nice bathroom. Surprisingly so for one built underground. The shower was massive and could easily fit several people, or two hounds, comfortably.

He lowered me to my feet, turned on the shower, and started stripping me. Again, I should tell him no, but honestly, I was tired. It’d been a big, stressful day, and I thought I might have lost a little more blood than I realized. And yeah, maybe I was experiencing a little shock from the whole attempted rape thing. I’d always felt safe here, physically, anyway, and now…not so much.

“I thought all hounds worshipped females,” I said, my voice sounding different to my own ears.

“We do, which is why he’s going to die.” Each word was said with frigid precision, as if he were already imagining the act, and had ice slicing along my spine.

Warrick pressed his face to my hair and breathed in again, then he propped me against the bathroom counter. He quickly shucked off his clothes and then helped me into the steaming water. We really needed to stop getting naked with each other like this. It wasn’t normal. Friends didn’t get naked together as often as we did, and we weren’t even that.

But it did feel good, washing off the grime and the blood…the evil of the day. “I feel kind of…woozy.”

“He clawed you. That you’re still standing proves just how strong you are.”

I grinned and thought it might look kind of loopy, but I didn’t really care. “That’s nice.”

“Our claws are tipped with poison,” he clarified and dropped to his knees in front of me.

“What are you doing?” I asked and shoved my fingers through his thick, dark hair. “You have great hair. Not coarse like your fur when you’re in your hound form.”

He ignored my idiotic comment about his hair and looked up at me. “I need to lick your wounds. It’ll neutralize the poison and my saliva will speed up healing.”

His voice sounded all deep and growly. “That’s a neat trick.” I could hear the words coming out of my mouth, words I would never say and couldn’t stop it. Neat? Gah.

He moved me back so I was leaning against the wall. “Spread your legs for me, dove.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I said and laughed, or more giggled. I never giggled. What kind of poison was this? I kind of liked the feeling.

“Not fucking loving that someone hurt you,” he said with a lot of feeling behind it.

That was nice as well. “Okay, then. Get licking.”

His eyes flashed red and he leaned in.

“Wait.” I shoved at his forehead. “Do hounds like the taste of blood? You’re not gonna get like bloodlust or something and eat me?”

He drew in a ragged breath. “No, I’m not going to eat you, not yet, and never in the way you mean. As for blood, I don’t mind it, and yours is…delicious.”

He’d said a whole lot of words, and it was like my brain had scrambled them all in my head. He lapped at my inner thigh and I burst out laughing. “Oh god, that tickles.”

His massive hands banded my thighs, holding me still, then he licked some more, his wide, flat tongue rasping over every scratch and graze. I dug my fingers deeper into his hair, and as I watched him, the tickles quieted and something else started.

My belly was flippy and warm, and my limbs felt loose, and yeah, with every swipe of his tongue, my body heated more.

My mind began to clear as well.

I had the sudden urge to fist his thick hair more firmly and drag that tongue higher, to the part of me that was starting to throb, that was growing wet.

Thank god, I was standing under the water. As long as he didn’t look there, maybe he wouldn’t notice. He licked one of the deeper scratches and his lips sealed around it, sucking gently. It caused a deep pull in my lower belly and shot sparks down between my thighs.

Nose to my thigh, his wide, tattooed back expanded on a deep breath—

His eyes sliced up to me.

Oh hell. That look had the power to make me throw all common sense out the window. His eyes weren’t red, they were bright gold and glowing. I’d never seen them like that, not ever. He sucked on my tender skin one more time, then he straightened a bit and pressed his face to my lower belly, drawing in another deep breath before letting it out on a growl.

“Dove,” he said with a voice that sounded like someone had taken sandpaper to his vocal cords.

“Um…”

Slowly, he rose to his feet, and the hair on his monster chest brushed the very tips of my nipples. He was breathing hard when he loomed over me, with a look on his face that held the kind of pure unrestrained hunger that actually made my knees feel weak.

My hand had slipped from his hair to his shoulder, and I could have pushed him back as he leaned in. I should have, but I didn’t. I blamed it on the poison, even though it was quickly leaving my system thanks to Warrick’s…tongue.

I also could have told him no when he closed the gap between us, but I didn’t do that either. His hands slid up to either side of my neck, thumbs brushing my jaw, and his eyes locked with mine before our lips touched. That’s all, just lingering there waiting, waiting for me to do just that, to push him back. To tell him no. Again, I didn’t, because I had thought about this, dreamed about it, fantasized about it more times than I would ever admit to anyone.

He huffed out a breath through his nose, and his fingers slid into my hair. He tilted my head back, gaze searching mine, then he said something I didn’t understand. It was deep and low and in that same coarse language, more a series of harsh sounds than actual words, then he closed the gap with a snarl and took my mouth.

He kissed me like I knew he would if I’d ever let him. Like a warrior beast, a conqueror, like the alpha he was. His lips parted, his mouth opening wide, forcing mine to do the same, and his tongue swept deep, consuming me, putting every bit of pent-up lust into it.

It was the best kiss I had ever experienced, and I knew without doubt there would be no topping it. I didn’t know it was possible to kiss like this.

His other arm hooked around my waist, and he hauled me off my feet, pressing me into the cool tile of the shower. My legs lifted instantly, scratches forgotten, and banded around his waist like they had a mind of their own.

His cock was right there, hard and hot. Huge. If I shifted a little to the right, he could thrust right into me—

Someone banged on the door to Warrick’s quarters.

It was like a bucket of cold water being tossed in my face. I froze.

They knocked again with more force, and on the bathroom door this time.

“Fuck off,” Warrick said.

I shoved at his shoulder, and his gaze sliced back to mine. The muscle in his jaw jumped, not missing my retreat, and he lowered me carefully to my feet but didn’t release me or take a step back.

“Axton’s back,” Jagger called.

Now I wasn’t being kissed senseless, and blood wasn’t rushing through my ears, I had a silent freak-out at what I’d almost done, what I almost begged him to do.

“Who’s Axton?” I asked.

“I have to go.” He released me and took a step back. And no, there was no missing how much he wanted me. “Get into bed, get some sleep. I’ll tell Ren to come wake you when it’s time.”

Then he climbed out of the shower and quickly dried himself off. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I was still blaming the poison from that asshole’s scratches, even though it had completely gone thanks to Warrick’s…help. He reached for the door—

“Warrick.”

He stopped and turned back.

I almost asked him when he’d be back but stopped myself. Instead, I stupidly said, “Thanks.”

His lips quirked up on one side. “Any time, dove.”

He opened the door, and I realized how that sounded, like I was thanking him for kissing me. “I meant for licking me, not kissing me.”

Jagger laughed in the other room and I flushed hot.

They left, and I dragged my tired, weirdly loose-limbed body out of the shower, and ignoring the humm of arousal still pulsing through my body, tugged on a shirt and climbed into Warrick’s massive bed. This also wasn’t a good idea, but I’d made a deal and I was too tired to find somewhere else to sleep.

A moment later, I was out.