Dark Desire (29 page)

Taer let the reality of what she’d done sink in. Darrion was dead. She had avenged her brother, and released every single Mare still bound to him through the blood contract.

“Is she awake?” Korvain asked quietly from the doorway.

“Yes. Come in,” Eir said, sliding off the bed and excusing herself from the room. Taer watched Korvain take up Eir’s former position on the opposite side of the room, his expression serious.

“Tell me everything.”

Taer did exactly that, recalling every detail of their fight. By the time she was finished, the serious expression on his face had been replaced by a look of pride.

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” she said. “He was able to hurt me even though I was the one who had infiltrated his dream. How was that possible?”

Korvain shook his head. “Darrion had many secrets, Taer. I don’t think anybody truly knew the extent of his abilities or skills.”

Taer reflected on his words for a moment. “Why did I feel like my body was being torn in different directions when he died?”

“I suspect it’s because you were in his dream, and once he was killed, you were violently withdrawn from his head.” Korvain shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ve never killed someone in their dreams before. I wasn’t sure it was even possible, in fact.”

She frowned. “Let me get this straight. You wanted me to kill Darrion in his dreams even though you weren’t sure it could be done?” Korvain nodded. “That’s fucked up,” she added bitterly.

The bastard had the nerve to smile at her. “I’ve never seen someone with such an instant talent for dream walking, Taer. Even though it killed me to do it, even though it went against every instinct I had to protect you, I could see no other way. You needed to be the one to kill him. It was risky, but I had to plant the idea in your head to see whether you would try.” His smile grew until she could see the tips of his fangs. “And it was worth the gamble, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re an asshole,” she mumbled, still unable to believe he would do that. Looking down, she could see the dried blood still coating her body. “I need to take a shower.”

Korvain got up from the bed. He helped her to stand and led her into the bathroom down the hall, which took a lot longer than normal since her whole body ached. When the door was firmly shut behind her, Taer stripped out of her bloody and torn clothes, dropping them to the tiled floor. Shuffling to the vanity, she stared at her reflection in the mirror above it.

The blood on her face had been cleaned off, but there were still smears here and there. Her eyes drifted down to the mottled skin surrounding the larger, deeper wound on her shoulder. Darrion had inflicted two wounds on her now—two wounds too deep and too savage to heal properly. She would carry them for the rest of her life, and she swore then and there that she would wear them with pride.

Because she had defeated the one who had taken so much pleasure in her pain.

She had taken his pleasure and made it her own.

Darrion was dead.

And Adrian had been avenged.

Henry Craine brushed some lint from the lapel of his white shirt and placed his gun on the desk blotter. The sharpness of gunpowder was still an acrid sting in his nostrils, but as he looked down on the body of his former employee, he felt …

Nothing.

Galen had been a pawn.

He had been a sacrificial lamb, and his work had great value to Craine.

Glancing at the gold face of his watch, Craine picked up his suit jacket and shrugged into the expensive black fabric. The garment fit him like a glove, and he took delight in knowing it had been paid for with blood money.

Stepping over the corpse on his office floor, Craine opened the door and stepped into the large foyer. One of his bodyguards was standing beside the elevators, and when he turned his head he found another staring impassively in front of him.

“Leaving for the evening, Boss?” the first guard asked, his hands still clasped together in front of him.

“Yes,” Craine replied.

The man turned and jabbed at the button beside him, the elevator doors opening swiftly with a small chime. The bland music piped into the car leaked out into the foyer as Craine stepped inside the car. He kept his eyes on the bodyguard stationed across from the elevators, keeping his expression tight and in control. Once the door had closed, though, Craine turned to look at one of the mirrored walls.

Slowly, the image in the reflection started to melt away. The black eyes gave way to pale green, the dark hair to blond. With one final shudder, Loki threw off the last of his disguise and gave himself a Cheshire-cat grin.

Everything was coming together as he’d wanted it to. Galen had played his part, and now Loki would take over. He had wanted a way into Bryn’s inner sanctum, and from what Galen had told him, that was exactly what he had. They would recognize Galen at the club now, which meant that Loki could simply assume his identity and walk right in there.

He was the ultimate Trojan Horse.

But he knew Bryn’s Mare had to be removed from the scene if he was to succeed. So his plan now was to go to Boston to do exactly that. He would have his revenge on the All-Father by snatching away his precious first Valkyrie.

Loki hit the emergency stop button on the elevator, bringing the car to a smooth stop after a slight shudder. Looking back at his reflection in the wall mirror, Loki started to change his appearance once more. Within seconds, Galen was staring back at him. Loki’s mouth flexed, trying out his new fangs and his new body. It was a lot stronger than the human’s had been, and he could feel the energy flowing through the muscles and bones.

Punching the button to get the elevator going again, Loki rode it all the way down to the bottom, stepping out into the lobby. With a new sense of purpose, he strode from the building, fading directly to Boston and setting his plan for revenge into motion.

I wrote this book while I was pregnant with my first child. I also went through the whole editing and re-editing process between nappy changes and midnight feeds. I sacrificed spending time with my baby girl to have
Dark Desire
ready to go out into the world, but that wouldn’t have been possible without some pretty remarkable people. I couldn’t have done it without the help of my truly amazing husband, my friend Katie or my in-laws and my mother who all traveled great distances to help out when they could.

To my husband, his wealth of military knowledge and personal experiences has helped shaped Mason into a ‘real’ marine. There aren’t too many men out there who wouldn’t bat an eyelid answering questions about guns and war zones.

I also need to say thank you to my brother. As with the first book, he kept me on track and focused on the end result.

And to Joel and Tara, thanks for the emailing sessions and phone calls to try make
Dark Desire
the best that it could be. Thanks for taking a chance on me and my characters, and for being so flexible with my crazy life.

Born in South Africa and raised in Sydney, Lauren Dawes is an urban fantasy/paranormal romance writer and the author of the Dark Series.

In 2009, she quit her full-time job teaching English as a Second Language to finally begin writing “that book”, letting her over-active imagination pour out onto the digital pages, much to everyone’s horror. The catchphrase “I didn’t know you had such a dark imagination” only fueled her to write more, where her love for Norse mythology and gods finally got the spotlight.

She currently lives with her husband and daughter in whatever city they happen to be posted to, and her cat, Oscar, who has inspired more than one character quirk or scene in her books.

To find out more, visit 
www.authorlaurendawes.com
.