Wicked Nights

the rest of eternity. “Look, and see. Your brother and your woman.”

* * *

ANNABELLE SPENT FIVE MINUTES alone. That was it. Just five. She had no idea her entire world would change before the sixth ticked past—when Koldo reappeared in the hotel room.

A grinning demon stood at his side.

“Unforgiveness,” Koldo said, shoving him in her direction.

Instinct caused her to scramble backward. She reached back and grabbed…a lamp, she realized when the “weapon” was in front of her, the cord jerked out of the socket. Her knives were on the nightstand, and the nightstand was far from her reach.

“What are you doing, Koldo?” she demanded. “What’s going on?”

“Hello, Annabelle,” the creature said. “Don’t you remember me?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, demon. Koldo?”

“He cannot leave this room, but then, neither can you,” Koldo said. “I made sure of it.”

“At my request,” the demon said, his grin widening.

“I brought you to her, as you demanded, but I will not bring Zacharel here.”

“That is not—”

“Your plan, no. Do not think you will be able to leave on your own. My cloud now surrounds the outside of this room and it will ensure you remain.”

A low growl erupted. “What game are you playing? One word from me, and the females in my charge will be savaged. Do you hear me? Savaged!”

“That’s a lie. They’ll be rescued before that happens. And by the way, you didn’t think of everything,” Koldo replied easily. “I did. Annabelle, he’s all yours.” And with that, he vanished, leaving Annabelle a second time.

A moment passed before she was able to orient herself, to look past her fear and her confusion and the sudden burn in her chest. When she finally realized who—and what—she faced, she released a shrill scream. “You!”

Here he was, her parents’ killer, except he was even bigger than she remembered him. Taller, far more muscled, but still with that barbarian’s face and a vampire’s fangs. Horns on his shoulders, dripping poison, she was sure, and a tail swishing between his legs.

“Do not worry, mate of mine. I won’t make you suffer just yet. I’ll play with you first. The fun stuff will begin when Zacharel swoops in to the rescue. And he will. Koldo will not be able to stop him.”

“I’m not your mate.” A violent tremor threatened to rock her off her feet, the burn in her chest intensifying. Steady. Calm. Can’t let emotions get the better of you. “So you’re Unforgiveness, the coward who sends his minions to fight for him, huh.” Better.

His fangs elongated as he said, “You’ll pay for that, and so will Zacharel. Where is he, by the way? Not far, I hope.” He looped around her, much as Zacharel had once done, studying every inch of her. A hungry predator who’d just spotted prey.

She turned with him, never letting him have her back. “He’s busy doing something important.” Subtext: you’re not. “This is between you and me.” And I will come out ahead. I have to.

“This was never between you and me. I waited centuries to strike at Zacharel, and wasn’t sure I’d ever have the chance. Then your worthless druggie of a brother summoned me into your home and I scented you. Imagine my surprise. I knew instantly who you were to me…who you’d be to Zacharel, and so I exchanged a portion of your spirit with mine, then sent others to torment you until his notice was gained. I’m a very patient male, you know.” His tail swiped out, intending to knock her ankles together and her body to the ground.

Because of Zacharel’s tutelage, she expected the action and jumped up, throwing the lamp at him, slashing his cheek before shattering on the floor.

He stilled, rubbed the now black spot. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Neither was your lie. There’s no way you could know what I would come to mean to Zacharel.”

A wide grin bloomed. “Isn’t there?” There was just enough venom in his voice to drill through her doubt.

“No.” Still he circled her, again and again. She wanted to leap at him, to attack and get this party started, but she had to work her way to the nightstand first.

“What if I told you that I was Zacharel’s brother? His twin? His other half?”

One inch…two… “You’d have a better chance of convincing me that you’re Santa Claus.” Even though his claim solved the mystery of the essentia—why Zacharel had seemed to touch her before ever having met her.

That tail whipped out a second time, faster, harder. “Perhaps I am. I so love leaving little presents behind… like the bodies I left for you, all those years ago. Your parents, yes? Killing them was so amazingly sweet.”

Might vomit. But at least she managed to gain another inch.

“I could have left them alone, you know, but I wanted you trapped in one location. I knew you would be blamed and locked away, ready to be rescued by a beautiful dark-haired angel. And so you were.”

Might sob. “What do you gain from all of this?”

“Vengeance. Zacharel killed the man I used to be. I woke up in hell, forced to live with the very beings responsible for my torment.”

“No,” she repeated. “You lie!” That tail came at her once, twice, but she managed to jump both times. Zacharel had done the same to her, so she knew to leap backward, out of the way of a third strike.

She saved herself from injury, but she also put herself farther away from her blades. Dang it. There had to be another way. The burn—

The burn! She could have more than hands. She could have claws. And if she could have claws, she could have fangs, wings and horns of her own. All weapons of destruction.

She might have a chance of winning.

Part of her wanted to stop trying to subdue her fear and anger and simply unleash them. Fine, more than a part of her. But she wouldn’t do it. She would not fight evil with evil. That wasn’t who she was or who she wanted to be.

I can do this. I can. She launched herself into the demon’s body.

He hit the ground and rolled, smashing her, but her hands were free and she rammed her fist into his throat. He rolled again, placing her on top, but he didn’t leave her there. He grabbed her by the wrist and tossed her over his shoulder. She hit the far wall, plaster raining around her, pain shooting through her.

Not out yet. Up she jumped and raced toward him. He met her in the middle. She bit at him. She sliced at him with her nails. She swiped up pieces that had broken off the lamp and cut at him. She kicked at him. She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed—more than she’d ever before exhibited. All the while, he was a snarling animal, with no rules to hinder him, no hesitation to lessen the damage he caused. No considering a better path. And yet, still she managed to give as good as she got.

A few times, he tried to kiss her and once even succeeded. He touched her in private places simply to taunt her. Each time, she managed to maintain her cool, causing him to explode in anger.

Those explosions actually aided her. He forgot to block her punches, too focused on getting his hands around her neck to choke her.

“Look at you,” he taunted, circling her now.

“Check a mirror,” she taunted back.

She was bleeding, bleeding some more, and she was hurting, but he was bleeding just as profusely and had to be hurting just as badly.

“Just give up! Zacharel’s brought me nothing but pain and suffering, and I will do the same to him. I will not allow you to stop me.”

She wouldn’t, couldn’t, give in. “If you really are his twin—” can’t be, he can’t be “—then you asked him to kill you. Commanded it.”

“He did not have to heed me!”

“What did you expect him to do? You kept trying to kill yourself.”

“He could have tried harder to save me. He could have found a way to reach me in the darkness.”

For a moment, only a moment, she caught a glimpse of the man he used to be: tormented, pain-filled, ruined. He was a darker version of Zacharel.