Desire Unchained

Apparently, the Sigil didn’t yet know about Tayla’s new approach to demon-slaying—she’d educated the Guardians in her cell to recognize the difference between evil demons and harmless ones, a move that had rewarded them with a handful of demon informants. She’d also instituted a capture-instead-of-kill policy when it came to were-beasts. Another good move—some weres didn’t cause harm intentionally—they had escaped their cages, or were new enough to not understand what had been happening to them three nights a month. Only those with no regard for human life were put down.

Kynan had to admit that after a shaky start in The Aegis, Tay had turned out to be an excellent Regent.

“Hey, grunt.”

Kynan ground his molars at the sound of Wraith’s voice as he snipped the thread of the last stitch he’d put into his patient. The Neethul had been remarkably quiet during the procedure, even though her species’ standard mode of operation seemed to be stuck on snarl. Neethulum weren’t his favorite species of demon to patch up, but they focused their cruelty on other demons, not humans, so he had no problem sending the Neethul back into the general demon population.

Besides, this one had been injured when she was attacked and raped by a posts’genesis Seminus demon, and he wanted her to find the bastard and rip him apart. She was probably pregnant, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Kynan looked over at Wraith, who was looming in the cubicle doorway, his cocky grin begging to be knocked right off his face. “What do you want?”

“Mainly? To irritate you.”

“I swear to God—”

“Uh-uh.” Wraith waggled a finger at him. “You can’t do that in a demon hospital.”

Ky breathed deeply and counted to five, something Eidolon said helped him deal with Wraith. It might help E, but then, Wraith hadn’t slept with his wife. Sure, Wraith denied screwing Lori, but Wraith wasn’t exactly Mr. Straight and Narrow. And if he was this bad now, before s’genesis hit him, he was going to be seriously off the rails afterward.

“If it weren’t for the Haven spell, I’d kick your ass,” Ky snapped.

Wraith laughed, because it was an idle threat. Kynan was a trained fighter, both for The Aegis and before that, the Army, but the Seminus demon was not only a master of every fighting method known to man and demon, but, at ninety-nine years old, he had about seventy years of experience on Kynan. Wraith could wipe the floor with him without breaking a sweat.

“You crack me up, human. I’ll let you keep breathing,” Wraith said, as he said every day, in that deceptively easygoing way of his. “Has anyone heard from Shade?”

“No.” And that couldn’t be good. Last night, Eidolon had sent a team to find Shade and Skulk when they hadn’t returned from an ambulance run and hadn’t answered their radio or cell phones. The team had arrived at Shade’s last known location, but hadn’t found a trace of the paramedics. “Can’t you sense him?”

“If I try hard enough. But unless he’s trying at the same time or in severe enough pain—” Wraith broke off on a gasp. Dropping to his knees, he clutched at his gut, doubling over. His blond hair concealed his face, but his misery was obvious in the way his voice cracked. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Kynan spun, hit the intercom button. “Eidolon! ER two, STAT!” He kneeled next to Wraith. “Hey, man, what’s wrong? Tell me what hurts.”

“Shade.” Wraith lifted his head, his blue eyes, so different from his brothers’ dark ones, watering. “Shade hurts.”





“You bastards!” Shade lunged at the robed sonofabitch, the chains jerking him up hard. Raw, grinding grief flayed him open like a slayer with a stang. It had been eighty years since he’d felt this, since his actions had cost the lives of all but one of his Umber sisters. Now that one survivor, the sister he’d sworn to protect, was dead.

“Who are you? Show yourself, you coward.”

“Who am I?” The robed thing moved forward. “Do you really want to know?”

Again, snarling, Shade leaped against his chains. “No. I asked to hear myself talk, you fuck.”

“So dramatic.” Robe Man reached up and removed his mask, a nasty thing made of hide and hair, but his face was still concealed by the cowl.

“Who are you?”

Slowly, the figure pushed down his hood. “I’m your brother.”

Heart pounding wildly, Shade looked into Wraith’s face. His blue eyes. His sun-streaked blond hair. His cocky grin that exposed vampire fangs. But the vibe was wrong. As before, when Robe Man was torturing Shade, the vibe was muted. “You aren’t Wraith.”

“I never said I was.” He flicked his tongue over one fang in a move that was pure Wraith. “But if it’s any consolation, it was Wraith I was after. Not Skulk. Why was she on duty instead of him?”

A chill crawled up Shade’s spine. Wraith rode the ambulance only one day a month. How had this bastard known that yesterday was Wraith’s day? Had Wraith shown up as scheduled, Skulk wouldn’t have been called in and Wraith would have been taken by the Ghouls along with Shade. So how had Robe Man known, unless … of course. Solice. How long had that vampire bitch been spying on him and his brothers?

“I’m not telling you shit.” Shade spoke slowly, deliberately, making sure every word dripped with the hatred he felt.