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Demon Wolf
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Can love save a cursed woman from the demons who’ve enslaved her?
When navy SEAL commander Dale Curtis encounters the mysterious Keira Solomon, he doesn’t remember her—but his body does. Her presence brings up half-hidden memories of torture at the hands of demons. But her scent calls up desires that can only be described as magickal. Neither Dale’s abilities as a Primary Elemental Mage, nor his access to military intel, can help him to untangle the dark secret of Keira’s identity.
Beautiful, innocent shape-shifter Keira knows that Dale is the one man strong enough to conquer the demons that have enslaved her. But he can only help her if her powers are great enough to heal the scars that haunt him. Together, they can combat the dark forces that threaten humans and paranormals alike—if Dale can learn to trust Keira…and his heart.
“Who are you?” Dale demanded as he grabbed her arms and pinned her against a parked SUV.
“I remember only darkness, pain and your scent.”
The woman wriggled away, lifted a hand to his face. Sexual energy jumped between them at the brush of her fingers. “Strong and courageous, is your heart, yet lonely and hurting…so much pain.”
Dale lost all sense. Crushing her against him, he fisted a hand into her hair and kissed her hard. She responded back with a moan, her tongue tangling with his.
And then she began to struggle and nipped him on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Dale jerked away in shock.
His mind fogged. Closing his eyes, Dale fell into a dizzying vortex. When he opened his eyes, the woman had vanished into the shadows, making him wonder if she wasn’t a dream.
Or his worst nightmare.
Books by Bonnie Vanak
Harlequin Nocturne
The Shadow Wolf #120
*The Covert Wolf #141
*Phantom Wolf #162
*Demon Wolf #185
Silhouette Nocturne
The Empath #30
Enemy Lover #51
Immortal Wolf #74
*Phoenix Force
BONNIE VANAK
fell in love with romance novels during childhood. After years of newspaper reporting, Bonnie became a writer for a major international charity, which has taken her to destitute countries to write about issues affecting the poor. When the emotional strain of her job demanded a diversion, she turned to writing romance novels. Bonnie lives in Florida with her husband and two dogs, and happily writes books amid an ever-growing population of dust bunnies. She loves to hear from readers. Visit her website, www.bonnievanak.com, or email her at [email protected].
DEMON WOLF
Bonnie Vanak
Dear Reader,
Can a woman cursed with the darkness of demons ever find true love and happiness?
This was the question spinning through my mind after I finished writing Phantom Wolf. There’s a scene in Phantom where Lt. Commander Dale “Curt” Curtis is tortured by a large black wolf who turns out to be a woman forced to do so by the demons who’ve enslaved her. After I wrote that scene, I knew I had to write Dale and Keira’s love story.
Keira has been cursed by Centurion demons, who force her to torture good, brave men so the demons can steal their essence and become stronger. She’s lived with darkness for so long that she is desperate to find any little bit of light so she doesn’t lose her soul.
Dale Curtis is strong, brave and honorable. He’s as pragmatic and disciplined as Keira is dreamy and hopeful. When he reluctantly hires her to help him recover from the terrible torture in the basement, he doesn’t know of their shared past.
They must now join forces before an even greater evil is unleashed. Love and trust won’t come easily to these two.
Happy reading!
Bonnie Vanak
To Robyn Lees. Strong, courageous and spunky, you fought the good fight to the end and inspired us all. You’ll live forever in our hearts.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Prologue
Nicaragua, 1990
The Contra war was over, except no one had told these guys.
The crack of bullets and rattle of machine-gun fire echoed through the mountains of northern Nicaragua. Lieutenant Junior Grade Dale “Curt” Curtis crouched down behind a scarred oak tree and signaled to his men to wait. Heavy green and black greasepaint disguised their faces and the green camouflage uniforms blended in with the surrounding scrub.
Intel said nothing about fighting in this region. Could be a local turf war, but the sounds of that artillery to his seasoned ears warned this was a heavier engagement. Dale pulled his boonie hat low, scanned the terrain and cursed the godforsaken ass who’d assured them this area was safe to cross. But they were SEALs and accustomed to shifting gears.
He and his team of six operators had finished a successful op near the border. Now Dale had to figure out how the hell to get his men out of what was supposed to be uninhabited, safe terrain.
Motioning to his men to stay back, Dale crept through the jungle, making no noise. Four of his operators were norms. Then there was himself, a Primary Elemental Mage whose powers could blast through this jungle like a firebomb. And Etienne “Wolf” Robichaux, a Cajun from Louisiana, who was also a Draicon werewolf. Like him, Etienne used his powers sparingly around others.
The sickeningly sweet stench of decay assaulted his senses. Dale belly-crawled up a small rise, to a ravine and peered over. Revulsion and horror punched him.
Flies buzzed around a dozen naked bodies lying atop each other amid the dirt, grass and leaves. Women. Men. His stomach threatened to spill out the MRE he’d eaten.
In his five years as a navy SEAL, he’d seen his share of horrors. But this... The way the little group clung to each other, as if providing comfort in their last terrified moments, made him sick with anger.
A small whimper caught his attention. Dale raised his weapon and crawled down.
A black puppy, barely alive, hidden by the corpses. Dale’s throat tightened. The little guy hadn’t wanted to leave his mistress.
Or maybe it wasn’t a dog. He called for Wolf on the radio. When Etienne arrived, the werewolf studied the dog, his eyes furious.
“It’s a wolf, sir. Not a dog.”
Stunned, Dale glanced at the corpses. “Your people?”
“Not Draicon. Our young don’t shift until they reach puberty. I’ve never seen this species before.”
Like Mages, there were different classes of werewolves.
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know.” Etienne wiped a trickle of sweat from his face, smearing the green and black greasepaint. “These carry a deeper, richer scent.”
“This place smells of darkness. No wonder the intel was screwed up.”
The sounds of battle ceased. Dale glanced around and made a decision. “Take the pup, head west and lead the men out of here. Use that nose of yours and flush out the smells of gunpowder, avoid the fighting at all costs.”
“Curt...”
“It’s not human. Whoever did this isn’t human.”
Etienne’s jaw tightened. “All the more reason for me to stay with you, sir.”
r /> “I’m right behind you. I’m not leaving this area for some naive civilian to stumble into and get killed.”
“If you ward it with magick, you’ll drain your powers,” Etienne warned.
Dale gave a cold smile. “You have no idea of the extent of my powers. Now go.”
As soon as his men had passed, Dale lifted his hands, closed his eyes and began a low chant. The magick shield would prevent humans from entering the area, and save them from meeting the same fate as the wolves.
Slightly drained, he opened his eyes, and turned to leave. A low growl rumbled behind him.
The wolf was as large as a small Shetland pony. Sleek black fur stood on edge. Dale remained motionless, his gaze never leaving the creature.
Not even when the wolf opened its mouth, showing fangs as sharp as dinner knives....
* * *
Her world had shattered. Nothing mattered anymore. Her parents, her pack, they were all dead.
Simon, her little brother, whom the demons promised to spare in exchange for her slavery to them...dead, as well. The demons had lied.
She was only eleven, but already experienced in her powers as wolf. In wolf form, Keira stumbled through the undergrowth. Rage and anguish blinded her to everything. Soon the demons would return and force her to do their bidding.
Magick skimmed her fur, pinged off her muzzle. Light, good magick. She shook her head and growled and loped toward the source.
A tall man lifted his hands to the sky and chanted. He was clad in uniform, his face disguised, and the metallic scent of weaponry clung to him. Rage engulfed her. How dare he violate her people’s final resting ground?
Blinded to everything except the red haze to hurt as she hurt, she stalked forward and growled.
The man fingered the gray metal weapon and she charged.
Knocking him down, she leaped on him and raked a sharp claw over his arm. But the man made no move to fire the weapon.
Confused, she backed off, watching warily as he stood. Their gazes met and she felt an odd connection, as if this powerful man of magick understood.
He regarded her quietly, sadness in his gray eyes. “I won’t hurt you. I will not return evil for evil, for whatever was done to your people is making you react.”
A giggle sounded nearby. Keira tilted her head, fear curling in her stomach. The demons were returning for her. Pure evil had infiltrated the region and it would never die. But this man who’d refused to hurt back, he was good. She sensed it.
She lowered her head, pawed at the ground and hit him with her muzzle, urging him to leave. The man’s mouth narrowed.
“I won’t leave you here alone.”
Keira growled and head-butted him again. The man seemed torn, and glanced toward the west. She knew if the demons found him here, they’d enslave him, as well. He must not remember her, or he’d return. She sensed it.
So she bit him. He yelled and looked down at the wound, blood trickling with her saliva, saliva that carried the memory spell the demons infused into her. By the time he looked up, she was gone, fleeing into the forest toward her captors, vanishing from the man’s sight and memory.
Giving him time to escape to safety.
While she charged forward straight into hell.
Chapter 1
If he discovered her true identity, the powerful Mage would kill her.
From across the bar, Keira Solomon studied her quarry. The glass of white wine gripped in her trembling hand rattled against the polished wood counter. She ignored the flirting drunk to her right and riveted her gaze to Lt. Commander Dale Curtis.
The navy SEAL commander of Team 21 sat by himself, his expression as lonely as she felt. Keira’s heart went out to him, knowing she was the reason for his turmoil.
Careful, she warned herself. If you let him get under your skin, you’re a dead woman. She concentrated on the man instead of her feelings, gauging how to approach him.
Though he looked no more than thirty-eight, the Mage was hundreds of years old. The commander had taut, angular cheekbones, a chin carved from granite, tempered by a full, wide mouth. His thick black hair, silvered at the temples, did not touch his starched collar. He looked like a powerful man of strong character, unaccustomed to compromise. But his most striking feature was his piercing gray eyes, shaded by thick, dark brows. Those eyes could become hard and unyielding, coaxing a confession out of the most tight-lipped prisoner, or turn seductive with promise, charming a woman into his bed.
She’d discovered all this about the man from listening to gossip in public haunts like this bar.
A severe khaki uniform hid a body firm with muscle that was now layered with deep scars. Keira knew the depth and width of each mark, knew how he’d endured, tight-lipped, as each one lashed his skin. And she knew the depth of his screams when the agony she inflicted became too much to bear when the Centurion demons forced her to hurt him.
No other man had survived such torture. Past victims had died from the force of her claws. Centurion demons had enslaved her to torture others. Now she had a rare chance to break free, because the man she’d tortured was strong enough to vanquish the demons for eternity.
“Hey, sweetie.” Obviously determined to get her attention, the big, barrel-chested drunk put a paw on her arm. “Lemme buy you another drink.”
Giving him a look of utter disdain, she pushed her glass aside. “No, thanks. I don’t accept favors from gorillas.”
The man narrowed his eyes as his companions chortled with laughter. “Ain’t no ape.”
“Okay, then. Chimp shifter.” She gave him a singularly sweet smile. “I can’t quite tell, but you all smell the same.”
“Bitch.” The shifter scowled. “I should drag you out to the parking lot, show you the meaning of respect. Flat on your back, your legs spread.”
Demon blood surged. Keira held up a hand. Like flicking a switchblade, her claws emerged, each a razor-sharp talon. Ape Boy’s eyes widened as she gouged the bar’s surface. “Care to try?”
The men pushed away from the bar and fled. She sighed.
“I hate having to do that,” she muttered to no one.
One day, she wouldn’t have to worry about the demon blood inside her. The key to her freedom lingered temptingly close, but it wouldn’t be easy to fool him. Curtis’s piercing gray eyes could see straight inside her, and discover who she really was.
And if that happened, no point fearing the demons capturing and enslaving her once more.
Because Curtis would have at her first.
* * *
Ladies’ night at the paranormal Dive Bar.
Once a month, Tom dropped the magick shield blinding humans to the bar’s presence. He announced two-for-one drinks and the human women streamed inside as if he’d offered marriage proposals to millionaires.
The custom was for regulars, who liked human women warming their beds once in a while. Tom’s bar was a short distance from Little Creek, home to SEAL Team 21’s elite Phoenix Force in Virginia. When in town, the secret force of paranormal SEALs crowded the seats.
Dale ignored the chatter around him. He sipped his beer, waited for his burger.
Scar tissue pulled and stretched uncomfortably, reminding him of a body no woman wanted to see naked. While in the hospital, his sometime girlfriend had visited. Melissa had taken one look at the blood and bandages and left.
No Mage female wanted him. No human, either, even if she didn’t sense he was a powerful Primary Elemental Mage who could fry her to ashes with a single flick of his finger.
Dale knew he was better off alone.
“You okay, Commander?”
Tom always called him by his title. Dale nodded. It had been the ultimate bitch of a day, back at work only ten days after two long months of mandatory medical leave. Paperwork piled to his nose, submerged in long meetings, most of his team deployed to dispatch a last-minute threat overseas. Only Ensign Grant “Sully” Sullivan remained at base. Chief Petty Officer Sam “Shay” Shay
more was in North Carolina, training in close-quarters combat with SEAL norms—human navy SEALs. He’d taken his new wife with him.
Dale relaxed into a smile as he thought of the much younger Shay. Last month the SEAL had married his girlfriend. Dale had proudly escorted the fatherless Kelly down the aisle. A wedding he’d never forget, as he was glad to see the two Mages declare their love in a lifelong bond. Those two had rescued him from the dark, dank basement where he had only memories of pain and blood.
And the scent of a woman...he could never forget.
Across the bar, Sully flirted with a pretty, slightly tipsy blonde. The woman rested her hand on the SEAL’s arm, giving him a suggestive look. Someone was getting something-something tonight.
Dale hoped Sully remembered to glove before love. A half-human bastard faced a lot of hardship in the real world.
Children. Setting down his beer, he closed his eyes. One regret he’d had in his eleven-year marriage. Kathy hadn’t wanted any. The Mage had used one excuse after another and finally, she just left, but not before admitting she’d been sleeping in another man’s bed.
You’re a good man, Dale. But you’re never around, not when I really need you.
Deep inside, he still craved a home life, a wife and a family. But what woman would want him now, his body looking like a road map to hell?
Someday, maybe, he’d find someone else. But first, he’d find the demon wolf responsible for scarring his body and when he did, that shape-shifter would pay. Such evil must be eradicated before innocents got hurt. Dale would do so gladly, sending the SOB straight to hell.
Tom slid a steaming burger, with fries piled high, before him. “Here you go, Commander. My treat.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Dale said, surprised.
“No, thank you, sir. If not for you...” Emotion shadowed the man’s face. “What you did to free those kids, sacrificing yourself, hell, we’re all grateful to you. I’ve got five kids and the thought of them enduring what you did...”
The cougar shifter’s spine stiffened. “I’m proud to call you a friend. You’re more than a SEAL. You’re a damn fine officer and gentleman.”