Darkness Raging Read online

  I had seen so many people die that I cared about. I had turned Erin when I swore I’d never sire another vamp. I had destroyed Sassy Branson, who was my friend, at her request. I had taken my friend Chrysandra out of the world of pain in which she was immersed, which she would never be able to heal from. Right now, I was feeling very much an angel of death.

  No, that’s Delilah’s department, a small voice inside whispered. She’s the Death Maiden. And Camille runs death magic under the Dark Moon. All of us have suffered. All of us have caused suffering. It’s the nature of being alive. It’s what being human . . . what being Fae . . . means. We live. We die. We kill. We save. We burn brightly and then are gone to the ancestors. What matters is which side we fight on. Which side we pledge ourselves to.

  Tired of thinking, tired of worrying over my thoughts, I turned off the water when it finally ran clear and clean and wrapped myself in a towel. As I padded into the bedroom, I passed the mirror. It was just as well I couldn’t see my own reflection. I didn’t want to face myself right now because it felt like the ghosts of the past would be staring back at me.

  Nerissa was sitting on the bed, my bloody clothes piled in a laundry basket at her feet. She pushed it aside when she saw me and silently held out her arms. Her welcoming eyes, the bow of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her breasts beneath the V-neck sweater she was wearing, the nimbus of tawny hair tumbling down to her shoulders . . . the sight of my wife waiting for me in silence broke the numbness. Stumbling forward, I landed on the bed and she wrapped me in her embrace, holding me as I began to shiver. I wasn’t cold—vampires didn’t feel the cold or heat unless it was extreme, but a bone-chilling weariness spread through me to the point of where I felt barely coherent.

  “Ssh . . . don’t speak. Just be. Just let me hold you.” The empathy in her voice, the love, filtered through and I found myself starting to cry. I tried to push away the tears—vampire tears are a bloody affair and I didn’t want to ruin her sweater—but she simply grabbed my towel and slid it over her shoulder and tucked me into that wonderful nook again. I struggled against my emotions, not wanting to feel, not wanting to admit how exhausted I was by this war, but the face of the young boy flashed through my mind again. The fear in his eyes, the realization that he was very young but had joined an army to destroy a city and had probably done his share of killing . . . it all hit me, and I began to sob in earnest.

  “So much death. There were so many screams. The fires . . . we were a thousand dragons strong, and the night was on fire.” Pausing, I admitted what I really didn’t want to tell her. “I lost control. My inner predator came out and I gave her free rein. I went on my own rampage.”

  Fearing to see her expression, I slowly sat back and used the towel to wipe my face, then raised my eyes to meet hers. But she merely shrugged and gave me a sad smile.

  “This is war. This is what war does to you. It breaks you, and you pull yourself back together. You go back in and fight, and you do it as many times as necessary. Rozurial told me that you won the night?”

  I nodded slowly, once again amazed by her ability to accept stark reality. “We destroyed Telazhar. His armies . . . there aren’t that many troops left and I doubt if there’s anybody alive to lead the cause now. Vishana led the attack. She drove them into the ground. Never, ever get on the bad side of a dragon.”

  I paused, remembering that Camille had unfortunately been on the receiving end of a dragon’s hatred—Hyto, Smoky’s father. She had learned just how vicious they could be. “We lit up the sky like a thousand aerial flamethrowers.” And then I was able to tell her about the battle.

  When I finished, she was sitting back, her arms wrapped around her knees, shaking her head. “The dragons just saved our butt, you know. What happened sounds horrible, but think about it: Those same armies were the ones who destroyed the elves. They would have gone on to tear through Otherworld and take down every city and country that stood against them. Telazhar was paving the way for Shadow Wing.”

  I pressed my lips together and lay back on the bed. “Yeah, I know that. There was nothing else that we could do. You can’t reason with a war machine, and that’s what Telazhar had created. I still can’t believe we destroyed him. I know the Moon Mother had something to do with it—Camille’s magic is strong but not that strong, and that lightning bolt came out of the heavens.”

  “Telazhar would have razed her grove. He tried it once before, thousands of years ago, didn’t he? Of course she had something to do with it. Camille’s her Earthside high priestess.” Nerissa leaned over me, on her hands and knees. “And to the victors, the spoils of war,” she said softly, her breath rippling over my breasts.

  I gazed up at her, my numbness slowly vanishing as she trailed her fingers along my side, her flesh warm against the chill of my own.

  “Are you sure?” I asked softly. “You must be tired.”

  She shook her head. “Adrenaline. I waited up for you, to make sure you were coming home to me.” And then she leaned in, pressing her lips against mine, petal-soft and delicate.

  I tugged on her sweater, pulling it free from where it was tucked into her jeans, and she slowly backed off the bed, stripping it off with one quick movement. Her jeans landed on top of the sweater, and she shrugged off bra and panties. I watched, making no move, just soaking in the vision that stood before me. My beauty, she could have been Helen of Troy, she could have been a Playboy bunny. Five ten, voluptuous, with full breasts and hips, she glowed with an inner light that soaked through every pore in her body.

  A new fire took hold of me, but this time it wasn’t my inner predator. No, this lit a different hunger, and I pushed myself to a sitting position. And then, in a blur, I was on my feet and in front of her, staring up into her face. She leaned down and cupped my chin.

  “I want you. Menolly D’Artigo, I claim you as my wife. I claim you as my clan. My pride. My chosen one.” Her words were cloaked in a sultry arrogance, a possessive demand that I instantly responded to.

  Pressing against her breasts, I felt the feral need rise up. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

  “You’re going to feel more than that.” She pushed me back on the bed and I let her take control. I might be a vampire, but she was a werepuma and no slouch in the strength department. I fell back and she landed on me in a pounce, straddling my hips. Her eyes lit up as she very slowly and deliberately lowered her mouth to my breast. As her lips pressed against my flesh, I gasped, fire shooting a straight line from my nipple to my cunt. I let out a moan as she took hold, nipping me lightly.

  “What do you want? What do you need?” Her eyes were glittering and hard as she brought her face up to meet mine. “Who do you want me to be tonight?”

  The rush of blood and fire raced through my mind again, and I began to shake. “Just make me forget the blood and the death.”

  She gazed down at me for a minute, then stood up and went over to the chest we had designated for our toy box. As she opened the lid, I shivered. I had just given her carte blanche, and sweet or not, my wife could be downright ruthless at times. She had trained under Venus the Moon Child, the shaman of her Pride, and he had taught her how to take pain and transform it into pleasure.

  And then she was back, pushing my arms over my head, tying my wrists firmly with a velvet rope and looping it over the hook at the top of our bed.

  “Don’t speak. Do as I say.” Her cheeks were flushed as she slid the blindfold over my eyes.

  In the darkness, I felt her spread my legs and, with my knees slightly bent, she bound my ankles to a spreader bar. The music started up—Rob Zombie blasting out of the speakers. As the driving beat raced through my body, overwhelming me, I could only wait for what she chose to do next.

  A faint tickle began to run up my leg. I twitched, unable to move. I could have broken my restraints, but Nerissa and I had worked together to create a psychological bondage that was stron
ger than the body. When either of us needed it, we were able to slip into the submissive part, regardless of our strength. So I gave in, allowed her to take the helm.

  The feather—I thought it was a feather—brushed lightly up my leg, irritating my skin. My muscles began to twitch as the tickling continued, and then the light touch brushed between my legs. Startled as the teasing hit my clit, I tensed, but there was no relenting as the sensation continued. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. I waited, tensed, but nothing. Feeling exposed, I wanted to ask if Nerissa was still there, but she had ordered me to remain silent.

  I waited, but there was only the sound of the music. Another minute and my stomach began to knot. And another and I was starting to shake, in the darkness, unable to move.

  Just as my nerves were beginning to fray, she began to stroke my calves. The scent of jasmine wafted up and I realized she was oiling me—lightly kneading my muscles with her light touch. Her fingers slid up to my thighs, still massaging the fragrant oil into my body.

  The warmth of her flesh, the soft circular motion of her touch acted like an instant sedative and I relaxed, letting her work her magic. The next moment, a gentle kiss touched the one scar I would give anything to be rid of—Dredge had carved his name on my pubic mound, claiming me as his. The scar was the last one he gave me before killing me.

  But Nerissa’s lips had long ago taken away the shame. She had taught me how to reclaim myself from the memories, to believe that I was lovable, to believe that I was beautiful.

  I shivered as her lips moved from the scar to between my legs, her tongue swirling around my clit, teasing me lightly, coaxing a moan from my throat as the fire between my legs blazed to life. I stiffened against my bonds. In the darkness, unable to move, I could only focus on the sensation of her touch, the drive of the music.

  Spiraling into the flow of her rhythm as she bathed me with her love, I tensed. The knot in my stomach grew, but now it was anticipation and desire. I wanted to whisper Don’t stop, but that would break the rules, and we were strict on our rules. Instead, I let out a low moan as she became more insistent, laving my clit, working me hard. I twisted, but her hands held my hips firm.

  Then one hand let go of my side and the next moment, she spread my pussy wide and drove a thick dildo deep inside me, working hard as she penetrated my folds.

  “You like this?” Nerissa’s voice was low, husky with desire. “Answer me.” And then again—the pressure against my clit as she drove the dildo into me with an increasingly frantic rhythm.

  “Yes . . . more, please more . . .” I could barely form the words as the music and the darkness blended with the spiraling passion that built with every touch. And then, just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, she nipped me, biting just enough to send me over the edge, and I let out a sharp cry as I floated in the sudden free fall, hovering over the edge of the cliff before I began falling into the darkness of orgasm, the pain of the night sweeping up to surround me with velvet wings as her love cushioned me from the blazing explosion that echoed through my mind.

  I came again and once more, and for a moment, everything went black—and I had no clue who or what I was as I hovered between what felt like the gates of life and death. But neither was open to me—I was outside the circle, and so I came back to myself with a shuddering start.

  The next moment, I realized I could see. She had removed the blindfold, and now she pressed her lips against mine and kissed me slowly, on my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. I realized I had been crying by the blood that stained her lips.

  “Menolly, you and I . . . we have something that nothing can ever sever. You hold my heart in your hands.” Nerissa gently untied me, and I sat up, wiping my eyes with the tissues she handed me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, not knowing how to answer. She had released the fears of the night that had coiled inside me, serpents waiting to strike, but in doing so, she had brought me face to face with the cold truth of who I was. Which was, I supposed, not a bad thing.

  “Yes . . . it was just . . . intense.” I turned to her, wanting to explain, wondering if I even could begin to. But her expression told me she already knew. Somehow, she knew.

  Her smile was slow and sad. “We live in a harsh time, my love. But through it all, we have each other. And we have your family—our family.”

  “I want . . . do you need . . .” I wanted to love her, gently and slowly, but I wasn’t sure where she was at. Sometimes my wife needed the blindfolds and bonds as much as I did.

  She opened her arms. “Love me however you need. Give me whatever you have to give tonight and I will be happy.”

  I laid her back, gently, stroking her ripe breasts, lingering over the tawny mound of her pubic hair. “I love you. You know how much I love you.” My voice was soft, almost a whisper.

  “Yes, I do. Now prove it.” She smiled then, through the darkness that surrounded us, and her smile was the ray of hope that I needed.

  I loved her, my lips tracing her body, my fingers stroking her until she cried out with passion, my breasts sliding against hers. As fierce as I was with Roman, I was gentle with her. For my Nerissa, I wore my heart on my sleeve, and had finally allowed myself to be as vulnerable as she needed me to be.

  After she was satiated, we snuggled under the covers.

  “The dragons . . . we owe them a debt.” She stroked my forehead.

  “No, actually we don’t. They were repaying their debt to Camille. I wonder if they will help us against Shadow Wing. How could even he stand against a force of dragons? But then, they already gave us a tremendous gift.” I described the sights of the night for her—not the blood and death, but the beauty of the dragons as they overshadowed the stars. I told her about Vapor and Vishana, and about seeing Sharah.

  By the time I finished, the horrors had pulled back into a soft murmur in the back of my mind. “How was your evening?”

  “I played with Maggie. Bruce’s mother is one hell of a force. That leprechaun is an alpha bitch, let me tell you. But I was surprised. Do you know how much she admires Iris? She was talking about her all evening. The Duchess was actually telling the twins about how their mother was off riding dragons in a war and how proud she was of her. Of course, they had no clue what she was saying, but I have a feeling this is going to become a family story. A remember the day Mommy went to fight with the dragons sort of thing. I think Iris should know that. I know that she thinks the Duchess looks down on her.”

  I laughed. “Sometimes people surprise you. Sometimes, they come through when you think they’re going to let you down.” I leaned back on the pillow, starting to feel the pull of the dawn. “The sun will rise soon and I will be sleeping. Please, have a good day, my love. And be safe. Just because we’ve managed to put a stop to the incursions from Telazhar’s side of the tracks, I don’t think that’s going to stop the hate groups.”

  “I can handle the haters.” She pulled the blanket up around my shoulders, even though I didn’t need it. “I love that you let me tuck you in. I don’t get much chance to. I’m usually asleep when you come to bed.”

  We lived in different worlds—she was the daylight, I was the dark, but we shared the space where we met at sunset and somehow it worked. In the darker half of the year, she rose before I went to bed, but summer put a longer distance between us.

  I yawned and closed my eyes.

  Vampires answered the call of the sun, rising at sunset, falling into the darkness at sunrise. We walked in our dreams, sometimes trapped in nightmares, unable to wake, reliving our own deaths, reliving the past. Other times, we wandered the realms of the Earth, our souls trapped forever in undying bodies, but reaching out with our minds to traverse the ends of the world.

  I am what I am, I thought, snuggling deeper under the covers. Whatever I was, whoever I was, it would never be the Menolly who was first born into Otherworld. I had become a hybrid, standing s
omewhere between who I had been and who I was becoming.

  And then I found myself drifting, and I was once again a young girl—joyful and into my maidenhood. I was running through a field, and Camille and Delilah raced at my side. The sun beat down on my face and I suddenly stopped, looking up to reach for it. Blinded, I closed my eyes, but then a flutter on my fingers made me blink. There, a butterfly flickered its wings, perched on the top of my hand. I watched it, breathing slowly, as the painted lady tickled me.

  Camille and Delilah stopped, coming over to look at it, cautious not to startle it. And then—as we three stood there—a sudden rush swept up around us, and the air was full of butterflies. They had been resting in their migration on a nearby tree and now the sky was filled with the insects, a blur of beauty and color as they whispered around us.

  The butterfly on my fingers rose and joined the lek, and they spiraled around the field, dancing around our heads as we could only stand in wonder, surrounded by the whirlwind of butterflies, watching as they rose into the sky. Camille whispered something—some spell—and we were suddenly floating in the air with them—only a few feet off the ground, but we still were hovering there among the living whirl of color and beauty. The next moment, we tumbled to the ground, but for a brief time, we had flown with the butterflies.

  The swarm rose to the top of the tree line and then spiraled off into the distance, as silently and quickly as it had appeared. I raised my hand, waving as they vanished. It had been a moment frozen in beauty, a time when the world had stopped for a moment to let us breathe. We crossed to the stream, but for the longest time, we kept quiet, not speaking, simply marveling in the beauty that could spring out of nowhere, unexpected, and then—in a flash—be gone.