Desire Unchained

The ex-angel shrugged. “It doesn’t suck.”


Wraith cocked an eyebrow at the action on the screen. “She does.”

Reaver’s mouth turned up in the smile that made every female in the hospital think thoughts the poor ex-angel couldn’t even begin to comprehend. “That’s the best.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Wraith said.

Kynan nearly choked on his peanut butter and jelly. “You’re almost a hundred years old and you get laid a dozen times a day. The math doesn’t add up.”

Wraith rolled his eyes. “A, a twelve-pack is a slow day. And B, most of the females I hang with have teeth like razors. If you think their mouths are getting anywhere near my di—”

“Code silver, ER.” The female voice crackled over the intercom.

“Cool.” Wraith grinned, and Kynan shook his head. Only Wraith would get excited about some sort of creature going apeshit and wreaking havoc in the hospital.

The Haven spell discouraged violence by causing extreme pain if anyone tried to hurt another intentionally, but an angry, hurt demon on the rampage could tear the hospital apart and cause a shitload of collateral damage.

Kynan shot out of the break room with Wraith and Reaver on his heels. They rounded the corner to the ER and, as a group, skidded to a halt. A massive, black-furred werewolf stood in the center of the room, holding his head and howling. A male nurse stood nearby, hand pressed against a bleeding wound near his occipital horn.

“The warg tried to attack me,” he said.

The were, still cradling his head and making so much noise that Kynan’s own head was starting to hurt, was definitely paying for his mistake. “What’s taking so long with the trank?” he shouted at Ciska, the triage nurse, who was fumbling with the emergency med box at her desk, kept stocked with tranquilizers for exactly this type of situation.

Reaver ran a hand through his mane of golden hair. “That’s a big-ass wolf.”

“Bigger than Luc,” Wraith muttered, which was saying something, because Luc was a tank on legs.

The warg finally brought his claw-tipped paws away from his head. Saliva dripped from his jaws and rage burned in his eyes. Kynan had battled dozens of unusually large werewolves in his Aegis career, but this one would have been considered a trophy kill.

Not anymore, thanks to Tayla. At least, not in the New York City Aegis cell.

Ciska slammed the drug box closed, the noise drawing the beast’s attention. It leaped, knocking over equipment and chairs.

“Shit!” Wraith dived for the werewolf’s leg, catching it near the shin. “Shoot him!”

The beast swung. The blow caught Wraith in the shoulder and sent him flying across the room. For a heartbeat, everyone except the werewolf froze. Holy … crap. The beast shouldn’t have been able to strike Wraith without experiencing pain. It seemed to realize it had found a target, and in an instant, it was on top of Wraith and the two were tearing into each other.

Cursing, Kynan snatched the trank from Ciska and nearly got himself laid out as he jammed the needle into the creature’s flank. It howled and spun around, but went down with a thud before it could attack.

“What. The. Fuck?” Wraith leaped nimbly to his feet, his mouth and nose bleeding. He didn’t miss a beat as he landed one well-aimed kick in the unconscious beast’s belly. “You’d better not have rabies, you bastard.”

“I thought only you and your brothers could beat on each other without feeling pain.” Gem stood at the entrance to the emergency department, playing with one black and blue braid.

“Yeah,” Wraith muttered. “Me, too …” He trailed off, frowning. “Something’s not right.”

Kynan kept his eyes on the warg, mainly to keep them off Gem. “Ciska, where did the warg come from?”

She used her red, whiplike tail to gesture at the Harrowgate, which was invisible to Ky’s human eyes but which he knew existed between two polished marble pillars on the far side of the emergency room. “I heard a noise, looked up, and saw him in the middle of his change.”

Wraith crouched next to the beast and laid his hand on its head. “Oh, man,” he whispered. “Oh, shit. I know this vibe. His thoughts …” His palm smoothed the fur between its ears in a way Ky swore was almost loving.

“Wraith? What is it?”

“It’s Shade,” he said. “This werewolf is Shade.”





Seven





Blackness swirled around Shade, pinning him down as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He tried to roll over, but something more solid than the oppressive darkness was restraining him. He groaned. If he opened his eyes and found himself in Roag’s dungeon again …

“Shade, man, wake up.”