Kresley Cole: Dark Desire After Dark

"Why is he coming here?" she asked as they parked next to a sleek, silver helicopter with blackened windows.

"Because he's after you," Nïx said, hopping out of the car.

When her aunts jogged toward the chopper, Holly followed. " Why is he after me?" she asked Nïx, having to yell over the rotors.

Regin got there first and slid open the door. "I love the smell of napalm in the morning!" She ushered Nïx in, shoved Holly up, then climbed inside behind her. A female pilot began pressing buttons and flipping switches. The rotors sped up, growing louder.

Holly cried, "Nïx!"

"Oh, yes, of course. What was I thinking? Holly, this is your aunt Cara the Fair."

The pilot gave her a two-finger salute against a helmet that read Fly Me Friendly .

Nïx continued, "She's part Fury, as well. She's flying us all legs on the way home, and then she's off to…"

"Colombia," Cara finished for her.

"Nïx, damn it! Tell me!"

Her brows drew together. "Tell you what, dearling?"

"Let it go for now," Regin said. "She's spaced."

They'd just lifted off when a truck skidded to a stop, and Cadeon jumped from the cab.

She frowned when he charged for them, with his eyes black, pumping his arms for speed, looking more determined than she'd ever seen him. But why? Seller's remorse?

Or worse?

What did he think the Vessel would get him now? A magickal bow and arrow? An enchanted shield?

Regin slapped her knees. "Oh, my gods, look at him running like his life depended on catching us." She slid open the door. "Is this straight outta Platoon, or what? Willem!" she cried, holding out one hand. "Run, Willem!" Then she choked on her laughter.

"Why would he be doing this?" Holly whispered to herself, but even over the clamoring rotors, Regin heard her.

"Why do you care ? Historically, whenever a prick serves me up to a skeevy sorcerer to use like a brood mare, I stop analyzing his motives. Historically. Now give him a nice New York State bird, and get him out of your head."

Val Hall—home of the New Orleans coven of Valkyrie—was a nightmare.

Wraiths clad in ragged red cloaks circled the old antebellum mansion, the yard was filled with lightning rods and charred trees, and dense fog wafted with no deference to the breeze, as if it were alive.

At Holly's first sight of the place, she was tempted to turn on her heel and get back into the car, heading for snow country. Except she couldn't because Nïx had dropped off her and Regin, chirping that she'd be back in a week, but there were "snacks in the fridge."

On the flight to New Orleans, Holly had learned little about Cadeon's actions from her aunt. All she'd been able to glean from Nïx's ramblings was that Cadeon had had pressing reasons for what he'd done. Not what those reasons were, or how he could so callously abandon Holly. She'd thought she'd have all the time in the world to question Nïx. Now Holly was left just as confused as before with no relief in sight.

As Regin led her inside, Holly saw some Valkyrie were sitting on the roof, while others rocked in wicker chairs on the second-story gallery with a TV in front of them and what looked like Wii controllers in their hands.

Inside the manor, Regin pushed even more Valkyrie out of the way. "Make a hole, clear out. She's new."

Most of them eyed Holly with curiosity, some with suspicion. And then the mass questions for Regin began:

—"You sure she's fully one of us?"

—"Is this the one we get to haze? Dibs on her clothes!"

—"Can she play pool?"

—"Is she any good at video games?"

" Good at video games?" Holly asked the crowd. They were sizing her up, just as her jocks once had, and just as the Sandbar denizens had. So she said, "I can make video games."

Apparently, those were big words for this crowd.

"You heard her," Regin said. "She's already a creature with which one doesn't fuck."

—"How?"

"She's getting a page in The Book of Warriors. She tagged a pack of Wendigo and culled the membership roster of the Order of Demonaeus by a quarter. And that was just this month ."

This is what you are, Holly. A killer. A creature even violent Valkyrie admire.

Holly was overwhelmed, perspiration beginning to bead above her lip.

"So let's have a little boo-yah respect for Holly the…" Regin trailed off with a frown. "What should your Valkyrie name be?"

They were all too close, making her dizzy, unsteady on her feet. She put her hand to her forehead and muttered, "I feel nauseated. Maybe I should lie down."

—"Dude, told you she wasn't a Valkyrie. We don't throw up."

Now Regin studied her with her brows drawn. "What's doing?"

What's doing? The first day Holly had ever seen Cadeon, he'd said that to her. Reminded of the bastard, Holly retched, throwing up the contents of her stomach.

The crowd backed away with a collective gasp.

"Well, the good news is that I got your trailing name," Regin said. "Welcome, Holly the Preggers."

Five days had passed since Holly had been smuggled into Val Hall. Cade had been seconds too late at the chopper pad, and now she was in the hands of the Valkyrie. "I can't believe the men you sent didn't keep her from getting inside," he said to Rök as the two of them lay in wait among the burned trees on the property.

"This coven has a three-thousand-year-old soothsayer and witches batting on their team," Rök said. "They've got sneaky covered. They probably have a portal we can't see."

"Now Holly's with her family," Cade said, taking a slug of demon brew. "They won't exactly be arguing my case."

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but your chances were pretty much blown with or without the Valkyrie's interference. In my experience, nothing says we're taking a T.O. like getting the finger as a helicopter dusts off."

When Cade scowled, Rök continued, "I put too fine a point on it, didn't I?" He snapped his fingers for the flask. "So tell me what it's like."

"What's what like?"

"You know—this." He waved at Cade's face then in Holly's direction.

"A two-demon siege of Val Hall?" He knew what Rök was talking about, but wouldn't make this any easier.

"You're going to make me spell it out, aren't you?"

"If I have to cop to it, then yeah."

After another swig, Rök said, "What's it like to care for someone more than for yourself? I only ask because this is the first thing you've done that I haven't."

"The way I'm feeling now, I would recommend staying the hell away from it."

At Rök's raised brows, he said, "Imagine you got lanced straight through the center of your chest."

Rök nodded gravely. "Happened more than once."

"Then imagine how you'd feel if that huge hole never mended."

"Not good."

"Not good at all. If I could just talk to her once before we leave for Rothkalina." The grim reality of his situation was that even if he could somehow win Holly over, he'd immediately have to leave her.

"You have to talk to her before you can leave. Face it, you wouldn't be any good to us right now. You don't eat or sleep. You're obsessed with something, and it's not victory against Omort. That's how leaders get their men killed."

"Holly could stay inside for months working on her code." Cade ran a hand over his face. "Still no luck with Nïx?"

"I've got the entire crew beating the streets for her—"

"Who are we looking for?" a voice whispered from behind them.

Cade and Rök both scrambled back. Nïx had been crouched directly behind them, peering at the manor along with them.

Neither had heard her approach.

Cade recovered first and said, "I've been searching for you."