Bad Moon Rising

"No!" Fang shouted as he saw images on the cave's wall of Misery and company surrounding Aimee and Dev.



He slammed his fist against the rock, ignoring the pain, as he realized he was about to be the death of another woman. It was just like Stephanie all over again. His enemies had found her because of him.



When will I learn? Women were to be protected and he was cursed where they were concerned. It was why he'd tried so hard not to get close to another one.



Aimee shouldn't mean anything to him, but she did, and the thought of her dying tore him apart.



Growling in frustration, he threw his back against the wall so that he wouldn't have to watch her die. But it didn't work. In his mind, he saw what was about to happen and it sickened him.



What could he do? He was trapped here with hardly any powers or much strength. There was nothing here but soul-sucking demons.



Demons . . .



In that instant he knew what he could do to save her. There was one thing a demon and a Daimon had in common. One thing they both needed to thrive and survive.



A soul.



And while he may not have all of his, he had enough of one to entice them.



Fang threw his sword down into the black water. "Demons!" he shouted. "I have a soul for you! Come get some."



No sooner had the words left his lips than the sound of a thousand wings filled his ears. The stench of sulphur and demon body odor invaded his nostrils. He hated this. But he had no choice.



It was him or her and he wasn't about to let it be her.



"Are you out of your ever-loving mind?"



He scowled as a tall, lean man appeared beside him. Dressed in a bloodred cloak that covered black spiked armor, he had eyes so light a blue they were piercing. His brown hair was shoulder length with the front of it falling into those eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of eternity.



And a cruelty that was unrivaled.



Completely calm against the invading horde, he cocked one finely arched brow. "What are you trying to do?"



Fang refused to answer. "Who are you?"



One side of his mouth quirked up into a hint of a taunting grin. "At the moment, the only friend you have."



"Yeah, right."



The demons came rushing in.



Fang braced himself for their attack. "My soul is-" A muzzle appeared over his face.



The man winced. "Don't even say it, kid. You have no idea what it means to have your soul sold. Trust me. It ain't pleasant and you really don't want to offer it up to this bunch. Not when you can do so much better with it."



Fang glared at him as he blasted him.



He absorbed the blast without flinching or moving. "Don't waste the energy. It takes something a lot stronger than you to budge me." Turning around, he shot a bolt of fire at the demons.



Screeching, they retreated.



His face a mask of utter irritation, he pulled a small cell phone from his right greave and held it like a walkie-talkie. "Break them down and send them back."



"Do we have to be nice?" a thickly accented male voice asked.



"Hell, no. Make them suffer."



"Thanks, boss."



The man returned the phone to his armor and met Fang's baffled expression. "Oh. Sorry about the muzzle. But it was necessary to protect you from your own stupidity."



It vanished from Fang's face. He rubbed his jaw where it had been while he glared at the stranger who was too at ease with banishing demons. "Who the hell are you?"



The man laughed. "That's a little more astute than you realize. The name's Thorn and as I said, I'm the only friend you have right now."



"No offense, Misery told me that too and you can see how well that's turned out." He gestured toward the wounds that marred him from head to toe.



Thorn took the sarcasm in stride and returned it with some of his own. "Yeah, well in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Misery. At least not unless you get on my bad side. Then . . . well, let's just say those who go there don't enjoy the experience."



Fang ignored his warning though he could tell by his demeanor that being on Thorn's bad side could be dire indeed. "Then what are you?"



He lowered his cowl. There was an incongruous air around him. One of power and complete cruelty. Yet at the same time, it was as if he kept that under a tight leash. As if he were at war with himself.



How strange.



"Think of me like a governor or a wrangler. It's my job to make sure that the inmates here obey the laws, especially when they go out on parole."



"What laws?"



He smiled evilly and ignored Fang's question entirely. "You've surprised me, wolf, and not many people do that . . . at least not in a good way."



"How do you mean?"



Thorn clapped him on the back. One second they were in the cave and in the next inside a grand obsidian hall. Light glowed from iridescent sconces that were shaped into the twisted faces of gargoyles and skeletal hands. The ceiling arched up a good thirty feet with buttresses that had been carved into the shape of human spines. Opulent, huge, and creepy as hell, it was cold and completely uninviting.



The only thing even remotely appealing here was the giant hearth where a massive fire blazed. A hearth that was flanked on each side by the winged skeletons of two Reapers. Both of which still had a dagger wedged in their rib cages.



Fang grimaced at the sight, wondering if they were real or nothing more than morbid decoration.



Or maybe both. . . .



"What is this place?"



Thorn whipped his cloak off with a flourish. The black armor gleamed in the low light that highlighted the deadly spikes on it. "Stygian Hall. Stupid name, I know, but to my credit, I didn't come up with it. I'm merely the current fool watching over it." A goblet of wine appeared in his hand. He held it out to Fang.



Fang declined to take it.



Thorn laughed evilly. "Afraid I've poisoned or drugged it? Trust me, wolf. I don't need a liquid to do either. If I wanted you dead, I'd be feasting on your meat right now." He took a deep swig of the wine.



Fang was losing patience with all the cryptic bullshit. He'd never had patience for such. "Look, I'm not really chatty and your dramatics are boring the crap out of me. Who are you and why am I here?"



Thorn tossed the cup into the hearth, causing the flames to explode. As those flames curled toward him, his clothes changed from armor into a modern beige suit with a light blue shirt. Instead of an ancient warrior, he looked like a billionaire CEO. Except for his left hand, which was still covered with the metallic claws that had been part of his armor.



"I'm the leader of an elite group of warriors known as Hellchasers."



Fang arched a brow at the name. "Hellchasers?"



Thorn inclined his head. "When demons violate the laws that govern them or decide to skip out on their parole, we're the ones who deal with them."



"Deal with them how?"



Thorn spread his hand and an image flashed up on the dark wall to Fang's left. Misery and her crew were being hauled back into their realm in chains. Bloody and bruised, they looked like someone had used their bodies as a target practice. It was obvious the two men bringing them back had been anything but gentle. "In short, we're bounty hunters without a bounty."



"Then why do it?"



Thorn clenched his fist closed and the image faded. "Mostly for shits and giggles. But if we didn't do it, the demons would overrun the human realm and it would quickly look like this one."



"Scary thought."



Thorn inclined his head. "Luckily, we think so too, which is why we do what we do."



"So how do I play into this?"



Thorn approached him slowly as he raked a speculative glance over his body as if judging every molecule of his being, inside and out. "You've got certain talents that appeal to me. A wolf who's survived with demons on his own and without his powers . . . impressive."



That did nothing except ignite Fang's anger. "Yeah, and why didn't you step in before now?"



"Because I thought you belonged here. That you'd been consigned to this realm for past deeds. It wasn't until you started to offer your soul up to protect Aimee that I realized you're here by mistake."



"You're not very intuitive, are you?"



Instead of being pissed, Thorn took the insult in stride. "Let's just say I seldom see the good in others. It's such a rare commodity in the world that I don't even bother to look for it." Thorn spread his arm out and a banquet of food appeared on the table. "You must be hungry."



"Yeah, and I don't eat at anyone's table I don't know."



One corner of his mouth lifted in bitter amusement. "You're wise to think that."



"I also know nothing comes without strings." Fang jerked his chin toward the table. "What's the price of that food?"



"I would say it's a gift to ease my conscience for leaving you here so long when you didn't belong, but I have no conscience and honestly don't give a shit how much you've suffered."



"Then why do you corral the demons to protect the human world?"



Thorn let out a long-suffering sigh as if irritated that Fang had brought the subject up. "So apparently I do have a conscience after all. Damned thing that. I keep denying it, but it won't go away. However, that's not the point. On Mardi Gras night, a few hundred demons were let loose from Kalosis. Ever heard of it?"



"No."



Thorn shrugged. "In short it's the Atlantean hell realm. The demons ate a couple of my men and I now find myself rather shorthanded in New Orleans." He opened his mouth as if he were shocked. "Oh, wait! That's where you're from . . . now do you see?"



"You want me to help gather them."



"Not exactly. More you're to help keep tabs on them and if they step over the line, you bring them back over it . . . or kill them."



"And if I refuse?"



Thorn gestured toward the door where the outside winds howled. "You're free to leave my hall and fend for yourself anytime you want to."



The idea of leaving was less than appealing, but Thorn knew that as much as Fang did. "If I stay?"



"We'll help your girlfriend and her brother hunt down those Daimons and set you free from here."



Fang wasn't quite sold on this. There had to be more than what he was relaying. There had to be. "With all your powers, it seems to me you could recruit hundreds of people to do this. Why do you want me?"



Thorn laughed. "There is a certain breed, a certain tiny handful of people who can do what we do and not get slaughtered three seconds out the gate. It's not about fighting skills or even survival. It's about character."



Fang scoffed at the mere idea. "I have no character."



Thorn sobered as he closed the distance between them. Those ice blue eyes cut through him as if Thorn was looking deep into his soul and psyche. "There you're wrong, wolf. You have loyalty and courage. Unrivaled. Two things that are damn near impossible to find. Have you any idea how many people would have allowed Aimee to die rather than offer up their soul to save her? That, my friend, is the rare, rare quality that I can't teach anyone. You either have it or you don't. And you happen to have it in spades. That ability to sacrifice yourself for someone else. Priceless."



It didn't feel priceless. At times it felt more like a curse.



Thorn held his hand out to him. "So will you join me?"



"Do I have a choice?"



"Of course you do. I would never impose on your free will."



Funny, it didn't feel that way. There didn't seem to be much choice in this at all. He took Thorn's hand into his. "You keep Aimee safe and I'll give you my soul."



Thorn's pupils flashed red so fast that for a moment, Fang thought he might have imagined it. His features stone, he released Fang's hand. "Boy, I need to teach you to take those words out of your vocabulary. Believe me, they're not child's play and neither is what you're about to join."







Dev?"



He pulled Aimee behind him as he faced the demons coming out of the shadows. "We need to get out of here." He shoved her toward the street.



Aimee started to run, but didn't make it far before another demon cut her off. She tried to flash and couldn't. "Dev? Can you get us out of here?"



"That power appears broken."



She put her back against Dev's as the demons drew so close, she could smell the sulphur on them. "What's going on here?"



"I have no idea. But they don't look like happy demons."



No, they didn't. In fact, they looked like they intended to make nice bear meals out of them.



Aimee manifested her staff. "Any idea how to kill them?"



Dev shrugged with a nonchalance she knew he couldn't possibly feel. "Beheading works on most things and if it doesn't work on these, we are seriously screwed. I'd put away the staff and draw a sword."



"Or you could just stand there and stay out of our way."



Aimee scowled as two men flashed in beside them. Not demons, they appeared human, yet they moved with a speed that belied that designation. Before she could even put her weapon away, they had the demons cuffed and on the ground in nice bloody heaps.



She shook her head as she tried to run through the events, but honestly, it'd happened so fast, all she'd seen were streaks in the air. "What was that action?"



Dev flashed a grin at her. "Chuck Norris meets Jet Li."



The demons growled and thrashed while the men beat them down.



"Shut up already." The taller man jerked the female demon up. "Just once, could I get a demon with no vocal cords?"



The other man laughed bitterly. "At least they're not puking on us this time."



"Small favor that."



And without acknowledging them at all, they were gone.



Aimee exchanged a perplexed stare with her brother. "That is totally out of my realm of experience. And given the freaky stuff we deal with, that says a lot."



"Yeah, I'm trippin' myself."



Aimee shook her head, trying to make sense of all of it. "Did Tony sneak the special herbs into our food again?"



Dev laughed. "I don't think so. But we'll definitely have to ask him when we get back."



"I wouldn't do that."



They separated to find a woman in the alley, right where the others had vanished. Her dark red hair was braided down her back and she wore a skintight black leather halter and pants. She was absolutely stunning and made Aimee feel rather lacking in comparison.



Dev flashed his most seductive smile. "Hello, gorgeous. Where have you been all my life?"



She rolled her eyes. "You are very handsome, bear. But no. You're not my type."



Aimee stifled a laugh at her putdown that Dev took in good-natured stride. "And you are?"



"Call me Wynter."



Dev chuckled. "Nothing like a fire on a cold Wynter's night."



Wynter gave him a droll stare. "Do those cheesy lines work on other women?"



"You'd be amazed."



"If they ever do, then yes, I would be." She walked past him to address Aimee. "Thorn has sent me here to help you find the Daimons who have Fang's soul."



Aimee frowned at the name she'd never heard before. "Thorn?"



"My boss. We don't question his orders. We simply obey. He wants the wolf saved, so here I am."



"We?" Dev asked, looking around to see if anyone else was lurking in the shadows.



Wynter gave him a tight-lipped smile as she ignored his question. "So the Daimons vanished while you were chasing them?"



Aimee nodded. "We think they went into a bolt-hole."



"That could be tricky."



Dev shifted his weight to his right leg as he leveled an irritated smirk at Aimee. "I still say we should hand it over to the Dark-Hunters. This is their job, not ours."



Aimee was growing tired of having this argument with him. "They can't identify the right ones and they can't go into a bolt-hole to flush them out."



"And neither can we. In case you haven't noticed, we're special treats for them and I don't want to end up like Fang, lying in my bed in a coma . . . or worse, dead."



"Then go home, Dev."



"Go home, Dev," he mocked. "Like Maman wouldn't skin me alive if I left you out here and you came home in a coma. It gets back to that whole 'I don't want to die' scenario that I'm trying so hard to avoid."



"Then back off me, or I'm going to put you in a coma myself."



Wynter sighed. "Do you two fight like this all the time?"



"Yes," they said in unison.



"But she's the one who always starts it."



Wynter rolled her eyes and made a sound of supreme disgust. "Thanks, Thorn. I really needed this and I intend to make you pay for it."







Fang?"



Fang opened his eyes to find Aimee leaning over him. It'd been weeks or months since he last saw her. Relief filled him at the sight of her whole and unharmed. Somehow Thorn had actually done what he'd promised. "Hey."



She smiled a smile that radiated through every part of his body and when she spoke, her tone was light and teasing. Most of all, it made him feel almost normal again. "You look a lot better than you did the last time I saw you. Maybe I should leave you here after all."



He laughed even though the very thought of it horrified him. "I'd really rather you didn't. But I don't want to see you hurt either. I'd rather you be safe and me stay here than for something to happen to you."



She took his hand into hers. The warm gentleness of that touch radiated through him. His body ached for a real taste of her.



Oh, to have one minute in the human realm. . . .



"We got three of them tonight."



Fang nodded. "I know. It's why my wounds have healed as much as they have." It was also why he was so much stronger now. "Thank you."



She kissed his hand. "You're welcome. We'll have you back soon. I promise."



Gods, he hoped so. It was hard to stay here, day after day. He felt so alone and out of touch. But at least she was here with him and for that comfort alone, he'd never be able to repay her. "How's Vane?"



"We haven't really heard. He's staying with one of the Dark-Hunters for now to help protect his mate."



"Which one?"



"Valerius."



Fang cursed at the name. Had that bastard done his job in the swamp, Anya would still be alive. Why in the name of Olympus would Vane have gone to him given that? What was he thinking? "The Roman?"



Aimee grimaced and nodded. "I'm sorry, Fang. I didn't think that would upset you."



Yet it did. Not just because of the fact that Valerius hadn't been able to help them protect Anya, but because Fang wasn't there to help Vane when his brother needed him most. He couldn't stand the thought of Vane having to turn to someone who'd already let them down.



"Do you know who in our pack is hunting him?"



"Stefan is the only one we've seen. He's come into Sanctuary a couple more times-no doubt trying to get a shot at you."



Fang cursed. "I've got to get out of here. Vane can't stand alone."



"He's not."



Fang froze at her unexpected contradiction. "What do you mean?"



"Fury's with him."



"Fury?" He gaped in indignation. Obviously Vane had snapped a serious wheel since Fang had been injured. What the hell was his brother thinking? "That guttersnipe? What's Vane doing with him?"



Aimee pulled back as she realized the mistake she was making. What was it with Fang that every time she drew near him, she stuck her foot into something? It was like she couldn't say or do anything right where he was concerned. "I should be going."



He refused to let go of her hand. "You know something." His tone was one of complete accusation.



She hesitated. This wasn't her place. "Fang, I shouldn't be the one telling you this."



"Telling me what?"



Aimee couldn't do it. Vane should be the one to tell him. Or Fury. But not her. "I have to go."



"Aimee," he said in an agonized tone that tore through her. "Please. I need to know what's going on with him. He's the only family I have left. Don't leave me here not knowing."



He was right. That would be even more cruel and he'd already suffered enough.



Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for his reaction. "Fury is your brother."



His handsome face went white. "What?"



She nodded. "It's true. Like Vane, he changed forms at puberty and became Katagaria. As your father did with you and Vane, your mother called her pack out against him and they beat him down, then left him for dead. Now he's teamed up with Vane to fight against them and to protect Bride, Vane's mate."



Fang shook his head in disbelief. But it was the torment in his dark eyes that tore her apart. She hated hurting him more.



"Fury is my brother? Gah, what's next? Is Mama Lo going to end up being my long-lost sister?"



She rolled her eyes at him. "That's a little far-fetched."



Lying back on the bed, he covered his eyes with his hand. "I feel sick."



Aimee popped playfully at his belly. "Oh, stop the dramatics, Fang. You have another brother. You should be grateful."



Fang was stunned that she'd touched him like that. Anyone else would be missing an arm. But her warm tone actually succeeded in lessening his anger and feeling of betrayal. "And if I said that to you?"



"In case you haven't noticed, my cup is running over with brothers. But you . . . you should be glad to have more family."



Maybe.



"Yeah, but it's Fury." The last creature on earth he'd want to be related to. He couldn't stand that SOB.



Aimee laughed at his dire tone. "We all have a Remi in the bunch. Deal with it, you crybaby."



Fang gaped at her insult. No one ever dared to insult him. Not even Vane. "Crybaby?"



She nodded. "If the term fits . . ."



He reached to tickle her.



She squealed and tried to escape, but he tackled her to the bed and held her under him. She squirmed playfully, her eyes dancing in humor as she reached to return every tickle to him.



Fury went completely still as he realized what was happening. He was locked in hell and Aimee was making him laugh. . . .



Sobering, he looked down into those celestial eyes that seared him to the core of his soul. To that tantalizing dimple that haunted his dreams. How could she make him feel like this? His entire life had fallen apart and yet she made him laugh. Made him forget that he was trapped in a realm with demons who tortured him every chance they got. That he had sold his soul to keep her safe.



How was this even a little possible?



Aimee shivered at the look on Fang's handsome face. His hair fell forward into his eyes while he looked at her with an expression that was hot and deadly.



What was he thinking?



Then slowly, he lowered his lips to hers. She groaned at the taste of him as she wrapped her arms around his body and held him close. She closed her eyes as she inhaled the scent of his tawny skin and let his tongue dance with hers.



This was so wrong. She had no business here. With him. Yet she couldn't imagine anyplace else she'd rather be.



It's not real.



This was a dream. She was only here in spirit. Did that count?



Maybe.



Reluctantly, she pulled back. "I have to go, Fang."



"I know." He nuzzled her neck, sending even more chills through her as his whiskers tickled her skin. "I just needed to feel warm for a minute."



Those words broke her heart. He was still grieving and he was lost in this nether place with no one to trust.



"Here," she said, taking off the locket she never went without. She fastened it around his neck.



Fang scowled at the heart-shaped locket that was engraved with interlocking vines and swirls around a skull. There was nothing masculine about it at all. He should be horrified by its presence.



Yet he wasn't.



Aimee placed her hand over his as he held it. "I'm just a shout away if you need me."



I need you now. . . .



But he couldn't bring himself to say those words out loud. Instead, he leaned in to breathe her lilac scent in one more time. "Be safe."



"You too."



And then she was gone. It was almost enough to make him whimper. But at least her scent lingered on his skin like a phantom whisper. If only he could hold on to her warmth the same way.



Sighing, he pulled her necklace off and opened it. Inside was a picture of her as a cub with two men he'd never seen before. They were holding the small black bear between them and smiling with pride. These must be her brothers who'd died and that made him think of Anya. It felt like a knife was twisting deep inside his gut.



Even now that pain was raw and biting. Worse was the fact that he knew it would never ebb. He would miss his sister for the rest of his life.



Running his finger over the picture, he realized there was a poem hidden inside as well.



Where I am always thou art. Thy image lives within my heart.



He choked back a rush of emotions that left his eyes cloudy at words that touched him. Blinking fiercely, he cursed the sensation. He was a warrior. A wolf with a capital W. He wasn't some old woman to cry at Hallmark commercials.



And yet this one tiny bearswan made him feel like he'd never felt before.



Like he was human.



More to the point, she made him feel wanted.



How stupid was that? His brother and sister had always wanted him . . . well, maybe Vane didn't want him right now because he was useless in the human realm, but Vane and Anya had always been his shelter. They loved him and he loved them.



But what he felt for Aimee . . .



It's wrong, wolf. You shouldn't even think about her.



Where I am always thou art. Thy image lives within my heart.



That was exactly how he felt about her.



Closing the locket, he kissed it lightly and returned it to his neck. Yeah, it was girly enough to make him want to puke. Still it was Aimee's and it was obvious she treasured it.



And so would he until he was able to give it back to her in their realm.



Now he couldn't sleep at all. Flippin' figured. It was the first time in months that he'd actually felt safe enough to do more than combat nap as he waited to be attacked. If that wasn't bad enough, he also had the erection from hell. One that was painful and demanding.



Banging his head against the bed, he growled. Yeah, I am in hell. But at least he wasn't starving or having to fight the demons off. Plus he was stronger now.



Almost whole.



Soon he'd be back to himself and back in the world where he belonged and all of this would be behind him.



He hoped.







You're not serious about recruiting that wolf, are you?"



Thorn didn't bother to move as he heard Misery's voice coming out of the shadows behind him. He swilled his wine in the large goblet as he continued to stare into the fire before him-a fire that reminded him of a home he never wanted to claim. "Is there a real reason for this annoyance?"



She came to stand just beside his chair. Draping one arm over the back, she cocked her hip, and looked down lazily at him. "I want to know why you sent your goons after us."



"You broke the law."



She made a sound of disgust before she draped herself in his lap. It was all he could do not to shove her to the floor.



Tracing a fingernail over his cheek, she smiled flirtatiously. "You're not really going to go there, are you? Come to the dark side with me, love. You know you want to."



Yes, he did. The seductive lure was always there and his father continually sent demons like Misery out to help sway him.



But he refused.



He'd made a vow and by the tiny part of him that was decent, he would not be tempted. Using his powers, he flashed himself out of the chair, causing Misery to spill to the floor, so that he could stand by the fire. "Get thee behind me, Misery. I'm in no mood to deal with you."



She pushed herself to her feet. "Fine. But think about this . . . we gutted your last soldier on the ground in New Orleans. Just wait until you see what we have planned for your wolf."