Through the Dark

THROUGH THE DARK

Jeremy's cousin has been captured by the church and imprisoned, accused of being a demon. When the escape plan doesn't go according to Jeremy's planning, they are forced to seek refuge in Grey Constantine's keep. Behind closed doors are secrets that can kill and both men give into an attraction that can bind them irrevocably.

Being a werewolf, Jeremy knows the moment he sees Grey, he has found his mate. Unfortunately, Grey is being driven to near insanity by his own brother and the loss of Grey's lover, Rhys.

Haunted by his own internal demons, Grey tries his hardest to believe in the promise Jeremy offers him. When Grey's brother tries to destroy them, they both must fight the forces threatening to tear them apart.

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EXCERPT:

As Jeremy entered the tavern, the feral wildness in his eyes caused quite a few of the customers to abruptly look away from him. Dressed rich enough in a long-waisted black jacket, his clothing fit him yet the overall look seemed at odds with his features. He hadn't even bothered to tie back the golden, untamed mane of hair.

Only the barkeep dared to even look at him. "What can I be getting for ya?"

Several others around the bar scurried away, tankards in hand. Huddling together, they sipped at their drinks, taking great care not to look too long at him.

"Ale." Tossing a coin to the scratched wooden counter, Jeremy ignored the others.

As the tender poured him a tankard, he asked, "So what's your business in these parts, stranger?"

With a short bark of laughter, Jeremy answered, "God's business."

When the mug was pushed toward him, he lifted it and drank it quickly down.

"God is not welcome here." The growled proclamation was accentuated by a tankard slamming down on one of the wooden tables. Half the tavern crowd moved to the other side of the room, and several left altogether.

"Watch that one," the barkeep whispered, nodding toward the back table. "He's got a mean temper, he does. Don't like that word."

"Another ale." With a smirk of amusement, Jeremy turned toward the potential troublemaker. "And this should concern me how?"

The man stood, knocking his chair backward onto the floor. Judging by the way he glared and swayed slightly, it was clear he was well into his cups. "You're here on…God's business," the man snarled, stepping around the table. "I'll give you to the count of three to get out of my sight." His hand went to the pistol shoved into his belt.

"Master Grey…" the bartender pleaded.

With a sharp warning glare from Grey, the barkeeper snapped his mouth shut.

Setting his mug on the counter, Jeremy stood and walked toward Grey. His gaze steadily held the slightly unfocused stormy one. "So quick to pull a pistol and ask no questions." Not at all afraid, he continued, "If you can shoot and actually hit me, I will be most impressed."

"I own this land!" Grey drew his pistol and, in the blink of an eye, he shot.

It didn't require any great feat of speed or skill to avoid getting hit by the bullet, as it flew wildly off the mark. Before his aggressor could even react, Jeremy was on him. With no more than a hard yank of his hand on Grey's, the gun dropped. The next moment, Jeremy spun Grey around and imprisoned him in an implacable grip.

"Whatever you own, you desperately need a bath and a good sleep, sir."

"I order you to release me!" Grey struggled and kicked, though the fight was slowly going out of him.

The barkeep gave Jeremy a grateful look and a nod. "He's the lord of the keep up the hill, but you'll be hard pressed to get him there. He's not been up there since Lord Rhys' passing 'bout a week ago."

Addressing the bartender, Jeremy asked, "And where has he been staying? The gutter?"

"Here mostly," the barkeep replied. He tilted his head, motioning toward the staircase leading up. "He has a room, but most of his time's been here, drinkin' a fortune in ale."

"Let. Me. Go." Grey renewed his struggle, jabbing an elbow back into Jeremy's ribs.

Jeremy whispered in his captive's ear, "Are you finished shooting complete strangers?"

Too drunk to control it, Grey shivered. "Unhand me or I will rip you to shreds with my bare hands."

Smiling knowingly, Jeremy loosened his grip enough to turn Grey around. Jeremy lowered his voice, keeping what he said between him and Grey. "And what would you do if I enjoyed it?"

For a moment, those stormy eyes stared into Jeremy's, his challenge answered without a word. To the side, the barkeep backed away, discreetly crossing himself.

"Beautiful amongst your own kind." Jeremy never looked away, showing not an ounce of fear but only an understanding of what he held in his arms. "So angry."

Slowly releasing him, Jeremy bent down to pick up the discarded gun and handed it back to Grey. "Know who your enemy truly is before you attack."