DH 05 Kiss Of The Night (38 page)

“You released another Dark-Hunter without consulting me!” The corners of Ash’s lips twitched as he understood her latest rant.
Wulf had bitten Cassandra
.

He smiled, relieved at the truth. Thank the gods, Wulf had chosen wisely.

“That was not the way this was supposed to turn out and you know it. How dare you interfere!”
Leave me alone, Artie. You’ve got more than your share of Dark-Hunters.

“Fine,” she said, her voice brittle. “You bent the rules of our agreement, then so shal I.” Ash bolted upright. “Artie!”

She was gone.

Cursing, Ash wil ed his clothes back on his body and flashed himself from his home in Katoteros to Wulf’s house.

It was too late.

Wulf was in his living room with Cassandra in his arms. Her face was pale with a bluish tint to it.

As soon as the Viking saw him, his teary eyes blazed with hatred. “You lied to me, Ash. My blood poisoned her.”

Ash took Cassandra from Wulf’s arms and laid her gently on the couch.

Erik started wailing as if he understood what had happened. As if he knew his mother was dead.

Ash’s heart stopped beating.

He’d never been able to stand the sound of an infant crying. “Go to your son, Wulf.”

“Cassandra—”

“Go to Erik!” Ash snapped. “Now, and get out of the room.” Luckily, the Viking obeyed.

Ash cradled Cassandra’s head in his hands and closed his eyes.

“You can’t resurrect the dead, Acheron,” Artemis said as she flashed into the room. “The Fates won’t let you.”

Ash looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t mess with me right now, Artie. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Everything you do concerns me. You know our bargain. You gave me nothing in exchange for Wulf’s soul.” Ash rose up to his feet slowly, his eyes flashing.

Artemis took a step back, recognizing the fact that he was in no mood to play with her.

“You never had his soul, Artemis, and you know it. You used him to protect your brother’s line. What better way than to release him to watch over his immortal wife and breed equal y immortal children who are strong enough to survive those who want them dead?”

“Wulf belongs to me!”

“No he doesn’t. He never did.” Ash closed his eyes and touched Cassandra’s forehead.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly.

“No!” Artemis snapped.

Ash looked up, his eyes glowing red. “Yes,” he hissed. “And unless you wish to take her place with Hades, I suggest you back off.”

Artemis flashed out of the room.

Cassandra sat up slowly. “Acheron?”

“Shh,” he said, moving away from her. “It’s okay.”

“I feel so strange.”

“I know. It’l fade soon.”

Cassandra frowned as she looked around the room.

Wulf returned. He froze as soon as he saw Cassandra sitting up. Faster than Ash could blink, he was across the room so that he could scoop her up and hold her.

“Are you al right?”

Cassandra looked at Wulf as if he’d lost his mind. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Wulf kissed her, then looked at Ash in disbelief. “I don’t know what you did, but thank you, Ash. Thank you.” Ash inclined his head. “Any time, Viking. Al I ask is that the two of you enjoy your time together and have lots of children.” He folded his arms across his chest. “By the way, as a wedding present, I’m revoking the daylight curse from you and your children. No one born to either of you wil ever again have to live at night.

Not unless they choose it on their own anyway.”

“Am I missing something?” Cassandra asked again.

One corner of Ash’s mouth twisted up. “I’l leave it to Wulf to explain. For the time being, I’l go back to bed.” Ash flashed out of the room.

Wulf picked Cassandra up and carried her toward his bed.

Artemis was waiting in Ash’s bedroom for him to reappear. The look on her face told him she was planning on making the rest of his day miserable.

“What, Artie?” he asked irritably.

She swung a medal ion from her finger. “You know who this belongs to?”

“Morginne.”

“Wulf.”

Ash smiled evil y. “Morginne. Loki is the one who has Wulf’s soul. Think about it, Artie. What is the one law of souls?”

“They must be freely given.”

He nodded. “And you never agreed to give up hers. Using Daimon venom, Morginne drugged Wulf so that he unknowingly gave his to Loki. The spel Loki used to trade their souls wore off after a few months and Morginne’s soul returned to you while Wulf’s went back to the amulet Loki holds.”

“But—”

“There aren’t any buts, Artie. I’m the one who made Wulf immortal and gave him his powers. If you want to put that soul back inside someone, then you better cal Loki and see if he’s wil ing to release Morginne to you.”

She shrieked in outrage. “You tricked me!”

“No. This was the way things were meant to be. You needed someone to breed with Apol o’s heiress. As much as I hate your brother, I understand why Cassandra must live and why Apol o can’t die.”

“You planned this from the beginning,” she accused him.

“No,” he corrected. “I only hoped.”

She glared at him. “You stil don’t understand the source of your Atlantean powers, do you?” Ash drew a ragged breath. “Yes, Artemis. I do. I understand them in a way you’l never comprehend.” And with that, he brushed past her and lay down on his bed so that he could final y get some wel -deserved sleep.

Artemis crawled into his bed behind him and snuggled up to his back. She nuzzled his shoulder with her face. “Fine then,” she said softly. “You won this round against me and Apol ymi. I’l credit you with that. But tel me, Acheron… how long can you continue to defeat both of us?” He glanced over his shoulder to see the evil glint in her iridescent green eyes. “As long as it takes, Artemis. As long as it takes.”

Cassandra awoke on her birthday, half afraid al of this was a dream.

Even Wulf never ventured far from her side, as if he were afraid she would evaporate the moment he left her.

He’d come rushing back to her at odd times throughout the whole afternoon. “You stil here?” She’d laugh and nod. “So far nothing’s going south.”

By the time the sun set and she looked the same as she had that morning, Cassandra realized the truth.

It was over.

They both were free.

Her heart sang in relief. Wulf no longer had to hunt her people and she no longer had to live in terror of her birthdays.

Ever
again.

It was perfect.

Three years later

It wasn’t perfect.

Cassandra bit her lip as she stood in the middle of the backyard with her hands on her hips while Wulf, Chris, and Urian argued over the swing set she was trying to have instal ed for Erik.

The workers had withdrawn to the front of the house while the three men argued it out in the back.

“No, see the slide’s too high,” Wulf was saying. “He could fal and get a concussion.”

“Forget that,” Chris snapped. “He could rack himself on the teeter-totter.”

“Teeter-totter nothing,” Urian said. “The swings are a choking hazard. Whose idea was it for him to have this?”

Cassandra rol ed her eyes while Erik held on to her hand and wailed because they were taking away his swing set.

Looking at her distended bel y, she sighed. “Take my advice, little one. Stay in there as long as you can.

These guys are going to make you crazy.”

Cassandra picked Erik up and carried him to his father. She forced Wulf to take the crying toddler. “You explain it to the baby while I go inside and add more padding to his nursery wal s.”

“You know,” Chris said, “she’s right. We do need more padding…” And the men were off on that subject.

Cassandra laughed. Poor Erik, but at least he knew he was loved.

She opened the sliding glass door and returned to the house.

Two seconds later, Wulf was there, scooping her up in his arms. “Are you completely mental yet?”

“No, but I think you are.”

He laughed at that. “An ounce of prevention—”

“Is worth ten years of therapy, easy.”

Wulf growled low in his throat as he carried her through the house. “Do you real y want him to have a swing set?”

“Yes. I want Erik to have the one thing I never had.”

“And that is?”

“A normal childhood.”

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’l let him have one, if it’s that important to you.”

“It is. And don’t worry. If he’s anything like his father, and he is, it’l take a lot more than that to concuss his thick skul .”

Wulf feigned indignation. “Oh, now you insult me?”

Cassandra wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder. “No, my sweetie.

I’m not insulting you. I’m admiring you.”

He smiled. “Good, safe comeback. But if you’re serious about admiring me, I can think of a better way to do that.”

“Oh, yeah and how’s that?”

“Naked and in my bed.”

Read on for an excerpt from

Sherrilyn Kenyon’s next book

NIGHT PLAY

A Dark-Hunter Novel

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

Lilac and Lace Boutique on Iberville

The French Quarter

Stunned, Bride McTierney stared at the letter in her hand and blinked. She blinked again.

It couldn’t real y say what she thought it said.

Could it?

Was it a joke?

But as she read it again for the fourth time, she knew it wasn’t. The rotten, cowardly SOB had actual y broken up with her via her own account.

Sorry, Bride, but I need a woman more in keeping with my celebrity image. I’m going places and I need
the kind of woman at my side who will help me, not hinder me. I’ll have your things delivered to your
building. Here’s some money for a hotel room tonight in case you don’t have any vacant rooms.

Best,

Taylor

“You sorry, sycophantic, scum-sucking dog,” she snarled as she read it again and pain engulfed her so profoundly that it was al she could do not to burst into tears. Her boyfriend of five years was breaking up with her… through a letter that he’d charged to her business account?

“Damn you to hel , you filthy snake!” she snarled.

Normal y Bride would sooner cut her own head off than cuss, but this… this warranted serious language.

And an ax to her ex-boyfriend’s head.

She fought the urge to scream. Or better yet, the need she felt to get into her SUV, go over to his television station and pound him into itty-bitty bloody pieces.

Damn him!

A tear fled down her cheek. Bride wiped it away and sniffed. She wouldn’t cry over this. He so wasn’t worth it.

Real y, he wasn’t, and deep inside she real y wasn’t surprised. For the last six months, she’d known this was coming. Had felt it every time Taylor put her on another diet or signed her up for another exercise program.

Not to mention the important dinner party two weeks ago at the Aquarium where he had told her that he thought it best he go alone.

Stil it hurt. Stil she ached. How could he do such a thing?

Like this! she thought angrily as she waved the letter around like a lunatic in the middle of her store.

But then she knew. Taylor had never real y been happy with her. The only reason he had ever gone out with her to begin with was because her cousin was a manager at the local television station Taylor worked for.

He’d wanted a job there and like a fool she had helped him to get it.

Now that he was safely ensconced in his position and his ratings were at the top, he pul ed this stunt.

Fine. She didn’t need him anyway.

She was better off without him.

And al the arguments in the world didn’t ease the bitter, awful pain in her chest that wanted her to curl up into a bal and cry until she was spent.

“I won’t do it,” she said, wiping away another tear. “I won’t give him the satisfaction of crying.” Throwing the letter away, she seized her vacuum cleaner with a vengeance. Her little boutique needed cleaning.

You just vacuummed.

She could just vacuum again until the damned carpet was threadbare.

Vane Kattalakis felt like shit. He’d just left Grace Alexander’s office where the good (and he used the word with ful rancor) therapist had told him there was nothing in the world that could heal his brother until his brother was wil ing to heal.

It wasn’t what he needed to hear. Psychobabble was for humans, it wasn’t for wolves who needed to get their stupid asses out of Dodge before they lost them.

No matter what the Peltier bears told him, he knew the truth. Both he and Fang were living under a death sentence and there was no place safe for them. They had to get mobile before their pack mates realized they were stil alive.

The minute they did, a team of assassins would be sent for them. Vane could take them on, but not if he had to drag a ninety-five-pound comatose wolf behind him.

He needed Fang awake and alert. Most of al , he needed his brother wil ing to fight again.

But nothing seemed to reach Fang. Nothing.

“I miss you, Fang,” he whispered under his breath as his throat tightened with grief. It was so hard to make it alone in the world. To have no one to talk to. No one to trust.

He wanted his brother and sister back so badly that he would gladly sel his soul for it.

Sighing, he tucked his hands in his pockets and turned onto Ibervil e as he walked through the French Quarter.

He wasn’t even sure why he cared anymore anyway. He might as wel let the others have him. What difference did it make?

But then, Vane had spent the whole of his life fighting. It was al he knew or understood.

He couldn’t do as Fang did and just lie down and wait for death. There had to be something out there that could reach his brother.

Something out there that could make both of them want to live again.

Vane paused as he neared one of those women’s shops that were every few feet in the Quarter. It was a large redbrick building trimmed in black and burgundy. The entire front of it was made of glass that showed inside where the store was littered with lacy women’s things and delicate, feminine tchotchkes.