Night Falls on the Wicked - By Sharie Kohler Page 0,59

were all soulless, murder their only impulse.

His body tense, he eyed his gear several feet away as Darius strolled to the window that looked out over downtown. As if he weren’t a monster and cared about the skyline view.

The lycan paused suddenly, angling his face like an animal sensing something on the air. He turned then in a sharp move and strode for the bedroom where Aimee slept.

Darby jumped in his path, pressing her hands to his chest as if he weren’t a creature that could snap her like a twig.

“Darby!” Niklas flashed to her side, taking her place in an instant and shoving her behind him.

He and Darius stood nose to nose.

Something flickered in Darius’s eyes. “You’re not human.”

“You’re not welcome here,” Niklas growled, feeling his own beast swimming beneath the surface of his skin. For a moment he considered unleashing it, setting it loose. “Leave now before this gets ugly.”

Darius’s gaze flicked toward the room where Aimee slept. His eyes seemed to glow brighter in that moment. “What do you have in that room?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

Those pewter eyes turned back on him, sliding over him before moving again to Darby. “It’s a lycan. Like me. I can sense her.” He tilted his head and considered Niklas. “But you’re something else. Not human. What are you, friend?”

“I’m not your friend,” Niklas growled.

“If you’re a lycan,” Darby began as if there were any doubt, “then how come you … how is it that you aren’t—”

“Aren’t intent on killing you?” Darius finished with a shrug of one tightly muscled shoulder. “I’ve killed enough. Lived enough lifetimes where the stench of blood … death has filled my every waking moment. I suppose I’ve gained a sort of resistance. It doesn’t affect me as it once did.”

Bullshit. “You lie,” Niklas spat. “A lycan cannot control what he is.” Except for me. He was the exception.

The very notion that this … Darius had some control over his actions enraged him. It meant that his mother hadn’t needed to sacrifice herself. It meant that if Niklas had been strong enough, she would still be here. The urge to commit violence against the lycan standing before him consumed him.

He felt the beast surge up inside him then. He fought it, struggled against it, denying that part of himself—but never had the struggle been this hard.

Darby placed her hand on his arm, the message behind the slight touch of her hand clear. She wanted him to still his impulse, to stay his hand. He looked down into her hazel eyes. She believed the bastard. Believed that he wasn’t a murdering monster like Cyprian. Like every other lycan on this earth.

Suddenly, Darius’s cell phone rang and he answered it as if he weren’t among enemies at all—as if he were just paying them a social visit. “Yes … yes … all right. Gather the team and I’ll be downstairs in five.”

The team? “Your pack?” Niklas growled, shaking off Darby’s hand and darting a glance to the large duffel on the chair where his weapons were stowed.

Darius smiled. “Not like you think. But we’re a force of sorts. I’m the only lycan among them, however, so calm yourself. We’re on the hunt for … something.”

“What?” Darby asked.

Darius’s gaze fell back on Darby, lingering there with an interest that made Niklas’s muscles bunch and tense.

“A witch.”

Darby gasped, the color bleeding from her face as she staggered back a step. None of which was missed by Darius. The lycan looked at her with more interest than ever, his gaze searing and intense. Suddenly that gaze fell, dropped to her neck—to the necklace she wore there.

Niklas bit back a curse and forced himself to not snatch the necklace from her neck and hide it from sight. That wouldn’t exactly be the discretion he was going for. It was too late, anyway. The lycan had already seen it.

Darius reached out and lifted the three charms that dangled on the end of her chain.

“Salt. Holy water and milk.” His eyes shot back to her face. “To help ward off demons, I presume. Does it help?” He looked at her so intently that Niklas suddenly knew that this lycan knew what she was—had figured it out just as he had.

“For the most part,” came her breathless reply. “That, and living in arctic temperatures seems to do the trick.”

“So I’ve heard,” he murmured.

“I take it you’re hunting a demon witch. Why?”

“Not just any demon witch. One.”

Understanding lit her eyes. “You’re after her.”

“After who?” Niklas demanded,