 
Harvest Moon

By:

Krystle Anne

Dominica Malcolm

Yuri Bellamy

Jessica Hartman

Adera Orfanelli

Alexa S Chase

Nulli Para Ora

Elizabeth Rose

Tina Pollick
Smashwords Edition

©2013 by Pollick Publishing

All rights reserved

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Cover artist: Nita Banks:The BookChick Designs http://bookchickwithkick.com

Title: Kimberly Mayberry
This is a collection of short stories by various authors. The maximum word count was five thousand words and the theme was 'Paranormal'. We hope you enjoy it.

Harvest Moon authors and blurbs:

Krystle Anne- A Beautiful Horror

 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Krystle-Anne-Author/638518936192423

Blurb:

Content with her simple life, there's nothing Josephine loves more than the fact her favorite season, fall has arrived. She has the perfect house in a quiet neighborhood where people usually keep to themselves, enjoys her career as a dental assistant, and is loved by great friends. Now, if she could only find love with the right man – one that genuinely fits her – she would truly be happy.

Josephine begins to lose all faith in finding that man...that is, until her new neighbor takes a sudden interest in her nightly activities...

While staying ahead of his troubled past, Dominic moves to the quaintest of neighborhoods and finds himself enamored with his neighbor. With piqued interest, he can't help himself from being drawn to her.

Is she just a distraction from his complicated life, or will she be exactly what she's been searching for?

Alexa S. Chase – The Ritual

 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alexa-S-Chase-Author/199567096885396

Blurb:

Three years ago, Ellie Callaghan swore off the druidic abilities which caused a horrific accident and the death of her first love and left her hometown in a hurry, vowing never to return. Yet she reluctantly agrees to visit the place of her birth once more to help a cousin in need, not knowing that fate has plans for her and a mysterious man named Micah once she gets there.

Micah is a fallen angel and a prisoner of hell on the road to redemption. A budding friendship between him and Ellie begins to break down every wall the two of them have built themselves over the years. But love will not come easy to these forlorn souls, and Micah may be forced to choose between Ellie and staying out of hell...

Adera Orfanelli - Convince Me I'm Yours

https://www.facebook.com/aderaorfanelli

Blurb:

Mira's had a love-hate relationship with Aaron, her sometimes lover, ever since she left the pack. When Aaron arrives with an offer Mira knows she shouldn't refuse, she's torn between giving into her lust, and love, for Aaron or forging her own path.

Check out more from Adera Orfanelli here:  http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1826

Jessica Hartman- The Vampire in the Coffee Table

https://www.facebook.com/jesshartauthor

Blurb:

Martha Ellingston runs her own antique store in a small Vermont town. When the owner of the local furniture store dies, his entire inventory is sold at auction. Martha attends and acquires several items, purchasing primarily with an eye to reselling, hopefully for considerable profit. She does, however, give in to impulse and purchases an odd pedestal-style coffee table despite the fact she's uncertain it's something she could sell in her shop. But when she gets the table to her workroom and takes a look at it, she discovers hidden mechanisms that unlock a secret compartment inside the base – a compartment which holds the body of a man! When the man awakens, will Martha believe his wild tale that he's a 300 year old vampire and she's his true mate, or will she call the authorities on him?

Dominica Malcolm- Haunted

http://www.facebook.com/DominicaMalcolm

Blurb:

Being murdered wasn't the end of the world for Prudence. Unfortunately, the purgatory she is sent to is an eternity on Earth as a mermaid. While she makes the most of her predicament, there is one thing that will always eat away at her...

Check out more from Dominica Malcolm here: http://www.amazon.com/Adrift-ebook/dp/B00F52ZC2E/

Nulli Para Ora- The Ties That Bind

www.facebook.com/nulliparaorafan

Blurb:

Two unlikely shifters, he's a lion, she's a tiger. There's something she wants from the king of the jungle, but she keeps her yearning a secret. Can she set aside appearances and reveal her deepest desire?

Check out more from Nulli Para Ora here:

http://musapublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=35_27&products_id=653&zenid=1ecf1f16aea902e3bf1370f8cfc25ce4

Yuri Bellamy-Against the Tide

https://www.facebook.com/authoryuribellamy

Blurb:

Chosen at a young age to breed with the angelic elite, female angel Asa is in love with the wrong kind of male. But now it's time to make a stand and she must decide:

How far will she go to protect the one she loves?

Elizabeth Rose- The Horseman's Heart

 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elizabeth-Rose/311999025596651

Blurb:

Death separated them forever. Or did it? What will it take to reunite them on Halloween night?

Check out more from Elizabeth Rose here:  http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-of-Hope-ebook/dp/B00DHW0MLK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1381765063&sr=8-1&keywords=Shadow+of+Hope

Tina Pollick- A Tragic Tale

https://www.facebook.com/tinapollickauthor

Blurb:

One woman set on getting justice.

One man will hide the truth at all costs.

One couple will risk it all to be together.

Check out more from Tina Pollick here:  http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Broker-Souls-Series-ebook/dp/B00EPWE2IK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1381765094&sr=8-1&keywords=Soul+Broker

A Beautiful Horror

By

Krystle Anne
Chapter One

"I told you, the graves aren't straight." She tilted her head to the left and then right as if that would make them even and took another sip of her beer, "Nope, still crooked."

"And this is why I asked you to come over! To H-E-L-P me set up the graveyard for my Halloween decorations, not sit there on your ass drinking my beer!" I shook my head at my friend Helen.

Blue skies were the perfect backdrop against the few remaining autumn leaves still clinging to the branches while we decorated the yard for my favorite holiday. Although I thought when I invited Helen over to help, she'd help. Not welcome herself to my fridge and plant her toosh in a chair to supervise while I worked up a sheen of sweat all over my body.

"So tell me about your new neighbor that moved in across the street, is he good looking, your age. . ." she grinned ear to ear.

"Stop it, he might hear you! I'm the one who has to live near him you know, want to embarrass me right off the bat?" I looked across the street. "Let the guy live here for at least 2 weeks before you break him in!"

"Oh relax Josie! His car isn't even in the driveway," she laughed.

I turned around, hand on my hip. "I swear, one of these days your loud ass mouth is either going to get you in trouble, or me killed."

"Yeah well, speak for yourself. Anytime you and I go to the grocery store together and you see something wrong with someone, you don't hesitate for a second to voice your opinion," she pointed her finger at me, eyes all wide like she was my mother giving me a scolding.

Okay so yeah, she's got me there.

"I know, I'm terrible. Even Cathy from down the street stopped to tell me how good looking he is. Which is the truth, I caught a glimpse of him the other day when he was outside tipping the men from the moving company. I think it's hilarious how everyone else is on the lookout for my next victim but me."

"Well, someone has to look out for you since you obviously don't care," Helen said.

"Hey, I was on 3 of those online dating sites thank you very much, and you know what I found out? That this city is full of nothing but marathon runners who love eating Thai food and taking bathroom pictures of themselves!" The heat of my frustration burned from my neck up to my cheeks as I threw my hands up in defeat.

With a heavy sigh, Helen set her beer down and gingerly walked over and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "I know, Josie, and I'm sorry that this city has only ass-hats to offer you," she winked, trying to lighten the mood and gave me a squeeze. "I promise we'll go out and try again soon."

Finally, she started to help out with the yard and as people drove by they offered comments and looks of approval. An hour later, Helen looks at me with a huge smile on her face and says, "I knew there was something I was supposed to tell you today!" she practically yells out as she has her ah-ha moment. "Tom will be in town next month for a few days visiting the family, and he's been asking about you." she teased and wiggled her eyebrows.

I don't think my eyebrows could have gone any further up my forehead. Tom McCabe, Helen's older and devilishly handsome brother. The man radiates masculinity. From his athletic build, to his short rustic blonde hair, and chocolatey brown eyes. When he talks, his voice is deep yet smooth, and his perfect smile makes my heart want to beat right out of my chest.

A few months back while we were all out celebrating Helen's birthday at a club, he and I danced the whole night together. Memories of being pressed against his rock hard body still has me wondering how he'd be in bed. And now, he'll be back in town, next month, and is asking about me? Tempting, but if things didn't work out between us, I wouldn't want mine and Helen's friendship to be awkward afterward.

As I came back to the present from my train of thoughts I just looked at her and laughed. "You've had that sitting on your dirty tongue all fucking day haven't you?"

I felt my pulse quicken at the very thought of seeing Tom again. I mean, yeah he's handsome as hell, but surely a playboy city man like himself can't seriously see me in his future. He probably just thinks I'll be an easy piece of ass. Which by all means, at this point in my life I would be, but not with Helen's brother.

"Yeah, pretty much! And since you're my friend I give you my permission to use the hell out of him, because lord knows he's done his share of making sweet innocent girls take the walk of shame out of his place," she frowned.

"Thanks for the generous offer, but I think I'll pass." I silently curse myself for actually saying that out loud, but in the long run, I know it's the best decision.

"Suit yourself, just keep it in mind." she sang, matter-of-factly as she packed up the empty boxes. "Hey, I think I'm going to get ready and go after I help you clean up. Kyle said he'd be coming over later after he's done watching the football game with the guys."

"Oh, damn! There's a Halloween-Movie-Marathon playing on TV all day, thought we'd geek it up and veg out to at least one of them before you went home." I stomped my feet and pouted, giving it all I had with this Oscar-worthy performance in hopes that she'd see it's obvious I'm the better choice to hang out with tonight.

She chuckled. "Die Hard fan aren't you? Tell you what, how about sometime next weekend we do a corny horror movie marathon, throw popcorn at the TV, and make fun of all the cheesy sex scenes they have before they all get killed. Sound good?"

"Hell. Yes!"
Chapter Two

When Helen left, I put on some Halloween movies for background noise, and busied myself with housework. After everything was in order and to my liking, I went out for my nightly run. What better way to end the night, right? For me, this is the best part of my day, cool fresh night air, noisy volume of the town during the day quieted down to a minimal, free to be and do as I please.

Once outside, and on the back deck I dropped my robe, pulled my long blonde hair from my pony tail, and took shape of a black short haired cat. After I stretched and got used to my feline form, I started meandering thru the beautifully crafted graveyard Helen and I set up earlier, and that's when I saw Him. Standing there on the sidewalk admiring my decorations while smoking what smelled like a clove cigarette.

What a perfect opportunity to get a closer look at my new neighbor, so I puffed out my chest and added a little kick in my step as I began to saunter up to him. Wow, up close he is even better looking, let's get a little closer, I thought as I licked my lips. Deciding to be brave, I started to rub up against his legs and weave in between them while purring loudly. I wasn't fully expecting him to reach down and actually pick me up though. I could get used to this! As I was being petted, I began to melt in his arms; thinking how wonderful it felt to finally have a man's hands caress my body. Even though I'm covered in fur and unbeknownst to him, actually a woman in feline form. That is, until he shocked me back into reality by looking down into my eyes and saying, "So tell me, Josephine Do you always shift into black cats or are you just keeping up with the theme for Halloween?"

What? How in the hell does he know? What is he? Who is he?

As panic set in I scurried out of his arms, shifted to a raven, and flew off. Not the most graceful exit I've made, I'll admit but, who the Hell cares!

I have lived here for 5 years, 5 YEARS, and not once have I ever ran into another shifter. Is he even a shifter? Sure as hell didn't smell like one, course all I could smell was that damn clove. Did my folks send this yahoo here to spy on me for them? Is this their way of setting me up with someone? Ooooh next time I'm out their way they will get an earful from me....

After about 45 minutes of flight and pondering what my next move should be, I landed on my deck, shifted back to human form, and was just about to finish tying my robe when that faint smell of clove reached my nostrils.

"I am sure you have a lot of questions Josephine, but please do not be frightened of me," he said coming out of the shadows. "I apologize for not having properly introduced myself to you before now. My name is Dominic Kreive, and I've known about you being a shifter since I moved in last week."

Not believing what I was hearing, I slowly finished tying my robe, and remembered that just a few seconds ago he'd seen me naked. I sighed inwardly and sagged my shoulders, that's just fucking great. I don't even know what to say to the man who has taken a sudden interest in me.

He put out his smoke and walked towards me. "From the look on your face, I can see that I have a lot of explaining to do. Please allow me to fix you a cup of coffee or perhaps tea before you become a lighter shade of pale," he said holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

With a blank stare on my face and what seemed like minutes having passed, I cocked my head to the side and asked, "You want to come into my house, and fix me something to drink? Are you serious?! Look, guy I've spoken to for a whole 2 minutes, the fact that you've outed me on being a shifter is one thing, but inviting yourself into MY house, pisses me off." Unbelievable! I wanted to shout out, as I turned to walk inside my house to get away from this strange situation, but he gently touches my arm.

"Wait," he pleads quietly. "The reason I know about your 'Extracurricular Activities' is because in my own way, I am also like you."

Looking back and seeing the expression on his face, I could tell he desperately wanted me to understand how it was that he knew so much about me. How is that exactly? When he doesn't even know me and I know nothing about him?

"Okay, but if you try anything stupid...I will shift into a tiger and eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of the week," I warned.

I opened the back door and he followed me in. "I'm going to go and get dressed, then how about I make us some tea instead of you, since this is my place and all. Why don't you...go ahead and make yourself comfortable," I said walking down the hall to my bedroom. This night has gone anything but how I planned it to be, I thought it would be all routine. Go out for my nightly run, then come in and maybe catch up on a show or two from my DVR before bed. Nope! Instead, I'm about to drink some tea with my new neighbor. Who by the way is extremely good looking. He's tall with broad quarterback like shoulders, has a jawline that has been chiseled to perfection and is peppered by a small beard to go with his dark wavy medium-length hair.

A few minutes, and a lot of freaking out later, I carried two steamy mugs into my living room and found him relaxed, looking like he was enjoying 'The Evil Dead'. "Oh please tell me that you're a fan of horror!?" I asked.

"Well actually. . .you could say that they make some of these movies based on my kind," he hedged taking the mug from my hands. "Thank you."

Okay, so what the hell are you?

"Alright then, spill it, since you don't have a scent to me, I know you're not a shifter so...?"

"Actually, no. I wish my life were that simple," he said, sipping his tea. "I, Josephine, am what you would call a Vampire/Incubus Hybrid."

Taken aback and raising my eyebrows, "You've got to be fucking kidding me." Red flags and alarms started going off in my head. Vampire? VAMPIRE? Here I am this horror movie loving good ol' girl from Pennsylvania and now I'm sitting in my living room, having tea with my own personal version of 'Fright Night' . I have got to get out of here, my family has only told me tales of my ancestors running into these creatures of the night.

"No, I would do nothing of the sort...please, don't get up, believe me when I say that I will not harm you," he pleaded as he walked across the room and took my hand into his, covering it with his other.

Immediately I felt the panic melt away and cautiously let him lead me back to the sofa to sit beside him. "Okay then, let's say I believe you Mr. Vamp-Inc. Explain to me how in the hell is it that I saw you standing outside in broad fucking daylight while you moved in?"

"That's simple, with me being a cross breed, I am fully capable of being out in direct sunlight. Though, I prefer to wear sunglasses since that ball of fire you women love to bake under is rather bright to my sensitive eyes," he chuckled, giving my hand a squeeze before letting go.

Damn, did he have to let my hand go? "Hmm, well what about food? Would you really have to 'Drink my blood' in order to sustain life?" I asked in my best imitation of Dracula.

He laughed, "Again, since I am both Vampire and Incubus, I am free to eat anything I desire. Although, feeding from the vein and regaining my stamina by having sex go hand in hand with food." he said as he gave me a slight wink. "Mind you, both acts are acknowledged and accepted by my consenting partner."

I felt my cheeks turn crimson from his honesty. Must change the subject now, because if the word sex, comes from his pouty mouth again, I might moan. "What about family, do you have any near here or...?" Soon as I mentioned family, his mood went from playful to sad. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, or want you to think of me as nosy, I was only making conversation."

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, his biceps flexing as he thought of what to say. "My mother Varina, was slain long ago by the man who sired me. She was a Succubus and one of his blood slaves. During one of his feedings, his blood lust took over; she was raped and I was conceived. After I matured to a man, my sire demanded that I choose the vampire way. Kill for food, stay to the dark, and relinquish my mother's heritage. When I refused, he was humiliated and killed my mother in front me, while his wife Petrah stood by and laughed. Enraged and knowing I could not defeat them both, I left, and have yet to return. Someday I will, and when that day comes – ," he got up and paced the room, his knuckles white from tightly clenched fists, body tense from reliving the past.

I had to try and get him to calm down. Standing, I walked slowly to him and gently placed my hand on his shoulder. He wheeled around to look at me, his once bright blue eyes, now pools of onyx. Oh shit, that can't be good.

"Hey, Dom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to become upset, please come sit back down with me." Also please don't eat me, I wanted to add, but thought better of.

After his breathing evened out and his body visibly relaxed, his eyes went back to normal, and I knew he was seeing me again, and not his past. "Please forgive me, it's been a long time since I've thought about any of that," he said as he followed me back to the couch. "Perhaps we should talk a little about yourself, Josephine. Do you usually just shift into small felines for your nightly exercises?"

"Well it's like you said, Halloween is by far my favorite holiday so I guess you were right about me keeping with the theme. That and a cat is simple for a neighborhood like this. People will probably just think of me as a stray and leave me alone. Now if I turned into a...black panther, for instance, then they'd probably notice," I grinned and took a sip of my tea. "What I enjoy shifting into most though are birds. There's nothing better than lifting up off the ground and soaring through the skies. Pure. Uninterrupted. Freedom." I said with both hands wrapped around my mug, faraway look on my face thinking about how much I love that serene feeling.

He stood, pulling me up alongside him and studied my face for a few seconds with a trace of a smile. "It's gotten rather late, I'll leave you to get some rest," he whispered, as his hands traveled from my shoulders to my my own.

I thought he was going to lean in for a kiss the way he was looking down at me with hooded eyes. I almost rose up on the tip of my toes and kissed him myself. Gah, I don't even know this guy, what is wrong with me? Feeling my cheeks flush from the thought, he raised one of my hands to his mouth and gently placed his lips on it for a light kiss. "May I see you again?" he asked, looking into my eyes, eyebrows drawn together as if his life depended on my answer.

The word "yes" was out of my mouth before I even acknowledged the question. He brought the back of my hand to his lips once more, seeming pleased with my response. "Goodnight, Josephine," he whispered. As he turned to leave he released my hands, and I felt myself shudder as the coldest chill of my life ripped through my body.
Chapter Three

I'm hazy the next day from tossing and turning all night, thinking about my gorgeous new neighbor. Even though we had only spent a few hours together talking, it feels like I've known him for years. Paying attention at work is especially difficult. As I assisted for root canals, crowns, and fillings my mind would just wander. I Daydreamed about his mouth on mine or what it would feel like to be wrapped up tight in his embrace. God, I'm a mess. My boss, Dr. Bernstein and the other assistants even noticed that I was a little off, so I just told them I didn't feel well. You'd think I was some love sick child. I'm actually surprised at myself that I didn't draw hearts on the patient charts with mine and Dom's names in them.

On the way home I decided I definitely needed to go out for a run to clear my head, and by run I mean my favorite canine choice. A Rottweiler. After pulling in the drive, I jumped out of my car. Set my stuff down inside the back door, tore my clothes off, grabbed my robe off the coat hook, slipped it on, and back out I went. Once I shifted and was on all fours, I immediately felt better and headed for the corn fields my subdivision was butted up against.

Up and down the corn rows I ran, with my paws hitting the dirt, heavy jowls flapping in the breeze, and my tongue lolling out. Thinking about him. I couldn't stop myself from contemplating his family and how his asshole father murdered his mother, all because he chose not to convert himself to be full vampire. I mean, I thought I had it bad because my parents were hippies who chose to live their lives by living in full shift form on national park grounds, and when they do shift back they stay in nudists colonies. God forbid they have to wear clothes when they come visit for Christmas. You'd think they were shrouded in glass shards.

I'm sure I look pretty rabid and smelled awful by the time I was finished, but I felt a million times better. As I was rounding the final corner and headed back up my street I caught sight of Dom. Increasing my speed, I barked out a warning to let him know that I was coming. He turned and smiled. Not having a care in the world of who would see, I jumped to him and shifted back to human form, mid-air. When Dominic caught me, I pressed my lips against his and he wrapped his arms around me tight, kissing me back hungrily.

Pulling my head back, I smiled and crooned, "Hey stranger," trailing my finger down his nose and touching his soft fresh kissed lips.

Moving his hands from my lower back to my buttocks he squeezed gently and smiled. "You are so beautiful," he said finding my lips for another sweet kiss.

While holding on to me he turned the doorknob, opened the door, and took us inside. Setting me on the kitchen island, he took my face in his hands and trailed his soft kisses from the corner of my mouth down to my neck. His hands glided down my shoulders and then cupped my breasts. Taking one of my stiff peaks into his mouth and suckling gently, while I mussed his hair with my hands. Looking up at me with a glimmer of desire in his eyes, he reached for the back of my knees and gently pulled until my bottom was just about to slide off the counter top.

"Your skin tastes delicious," he murmured, trailing his tongue from my breasts down to my navel. Dominic stole a glance at me with a mischievous smile. "I wonder if your come will taste just as sweet."

As he spread my legs apart and placed them over his shoulders, he lifted my ass and inhaled my scent before slipping a finger inside my slick heat.

"You're so wet and ready for me," he said as he slipped his second finger in my slit, followed by his tongue; flicking it against my swollen nub, sucking as he continued to finger fuck me.

"Ohmigod!" I cry out, with my arms above my head holding on to the back of the counter and thrusting my pelvis into his mouth. Oh this feels so fucking good. "Dom, I'm going to come if you keep this up!"

He moaned as a response, undoing his pants and freeing his erection. I lifted myself back into a sitting position, took his hands and pulled him up then slid off the island. While keeping my eyes focused on his, I slowly began to kneel down in front of him. With a sexy smirk, I tugged his pants the rest of the way down. Now having his engorged cock at eye level, a bead of pre-come teased at me with an inviting allure. I stole a peak back up at him, and took his cock into my hand and licked the tip of it, then swirled my tongue around the head of his pulsating member for good measure.

Standing and clasping his hand in mine, I let out a little giggle and led him over to the couch.

Turning him so that he was facing me, I reached up, tousled his hair and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips. Then skimmed my hands over his broad shoulders, down to his chest. Wow, I cannot believe this is happening. Where did this sexy vixen side of me come from? Smiling, I gently pushed him on to the sofa. This couldn't be going any more perfect, and now that I have him right where I want him, I take the liberty of straddling his face while leaning down to put his cock back into my mouth. Grinding my sex against his greedy tongue; I began to suck his throbbing member harder, hollowing out my cheeks, and stroking faster with both hands. By his moaning and hip thrusts I knew he wasn't far off from coming.

Oooh no, not yet you don't!

I let his cock fall out of my mouth, laying heavy on his belly. "I want to feel you inside me when you come." His smile lets me know he feels the same way. We both stand and I left him to walk around the back of the couch. Leaning over it, I wiggled my ass as an invitation and made a come here gesture with my finger.

"I've been dying to bury my cock in your tight pussy since last night," he said, stroking himself and settling behind me kicking my legs apart. "You're all I've been able to think about all fucking day, you dirty minx."

Reaching between my legs I began to finger myself, watching a man stroke his cock, to me, is a huge turn on. As he settled behind me I withdrew my fingers to help guide him in. My breath catches as he takes my fingers into his mouth to savor my juices. Holy fuck, that's hot.

"Oh, you feel so good," he said leaning over me, sweeping my hair to the side to kiss the back of my neck. Working his way in, inch by inch, I arched my back up against him, taking him to the hilt.

"Bite me," I plead. Offering him my neck.

"Are you sure?" he asked suddenly standing still.

"Yes, yes! Oh god, please, bite me now Dominic,"

I heard what sounded like bones snap into place, then he put his mouth on the back of my shoulder so fast, I braced myself for his bite. Only I didn't feel any kind of piercing pain at all; more of a euphoric type of feeling washed over me as he licked my skin. Then, I felt the best sensation as his fangs sank into my flesh. Groaning in pleasure, he pulled me tighter against him, one arm secured around my waist, while his other hand settled on top of mine against the back of the couch, our fingers entwined.

As he drew my blood into his mouth, his hips start moving...faster. After taking a few long pulls of my blood, he placed his hands on my back and gently nudged me forward, spreading my legs further apart. His fingers grip my hips tightly as he slams into me from behind; the sounds of our labored breathing and his heavy sac slapping against my wet pussy is exactly what I've been yearning. I turned my head and the sight of him in the throws of ecstasy just about sent me over the edge. His eyes closed, mouth agape, and fangs barely visible with the faintest touch of my blood lingering on his lips.

"Oh, Fuck me, Dom!" I panted.... "Faster!"

Suddenly I was turned around and his mouth was on mine, kissing me, hard. Our tongues swirling, tasting each other. I loved the sensation of his enlarged incisors grazing my lips. He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his trim waist as he carried me down the hallway to his bedroom. Dominic laid me down on his ginormous bed, pulled off his shirt, and gazed down at me like I was his Thanksgiving dinner. I took notice that his eyes were once again black orbs. God damn, that's so hot. Lowering himself so that he was on top of me, he hungrily took one of my breasts into his mouth. This time he wasn't suckling, he was biting. Almost to the point of pain; but it felt so good...so right.

"You like that, Josie?" he growled with my nipple between his teeth. "You like it rough, don't you?"

"I'll like whatever you do to me..Oh god, it feels amazing," I exhaled as I arched my back, curled my toes, and gripped the sheets. He came back up to stake his claim on my mouth, and placed his hand between my legs; slipping two fingers inside. I took his cock in my hand and started stroking his length. "I want you," I groaned, guiding the head of him to my entrance, and in one swift motion, he sheathed himself in my creamy folds; lifting my ass up to meet his quick thrusts.

"Are you ready for me, Josephine?" .

Before I could answer, he started moving in and out of me so fast, all I could do was throw my head against the pillows and call out his name. Over and over. And I've never been a vocal person while having sex, but with this man, I just could not help myself. I'm pretty sure I fell in love with him at that moment. As we both climaxed, he clasped my hands above my head, and kissed me passionately, loving me. I didn't even feel the tears falling down the sides of my face, until he whispered in my ear not to cry.

Oh god, how embarrassing.

"Oh my god," I said mortified. "I'm sorry, it's just...no one has ever, ever, treated me as well as you have."

"I could say the same about you," he said as he kissed my tears away.
Chapter Four

I wake a few hours later, curled up next to him, my perfect, personal version of my own 'Fright Night'. His slow, even breathing tells me he's still sleeping. Careful not to wake him, I turn to my side and prop myself up on my elbow and watch him for a few minutes. God he is beautiful. Playing with the thick, dark curls on his chest, he reached up, took my hand and kissed my palm.

"This day couldn't have gone any better," he whispered as he looked from my palm deep into my eyes. "Thank you."

"I think I should be the one thanking you, Dom," I said as I began trailing kisses across his chest.

"Listen," reaching over to turn on the bed side lamp and sitting back against the plush headboard. "about the other day when we were talking about my family-"

"Please...you don't have to explain anything to me."

"Well, I know I scared you with my eyes and how they turned black. That sort of thing...happens to me when I get either extremely angry or aroused. As you witnessed earlier, again." He said sheepishly.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that, and if you ask me...it was pretty fucking hot!" I chuckled, as I tucked a stray hair behind his ear. I seriously cannot keep myself from touching him.

Dom smiled down at me, "There's another thing I wanted to warn you about. Being with me...it's not exactly...safe. See, my stepmother Petrah has had it out for me ever since I "humiliated" my sire." he said, giving air quotations. "aside from the obvious reasons of me constantly moving because of my immortality; I'm also always having to make sure that I stay multiple steps ahead of her and her servants. Using false identities, offshore bank accounts, the list goes on."

"What a Bitch," I blurted out. Mentally face palming myself, whoops.

He just stared at me for about five full seconds before he busted out laughing and pulled me on top of him. "Gods, being with you these past few hours has made my existence of living alone worth it." He said stealing a kiss.

Buddy, you have no idea. "Don't you have anyone, who will... you know... help you take care of that problem?"

"Not really, I've lived on my own for..." looking down at me with a furrow in his brow. "Please don't run when I tell you how old I am, Josie."

Sitting, I cupped his face and brought my lips to his for a soft kiss. "It doesn't matter how old you are, I'm just glad that we've found each other," I whispered, kissing him again before settling against the headboard; pulling his arm over my shoulder as I settled into his nook and held his hand tightly.

"Alright then... I have walked this earth for 847 years," he said with a pointed gaze.

Holy hell.

With the most serious face I could muster I looked at him and said, "You dirty old man, sleeping with a much younger woman!"

"Why you little!"

I shrieked as he pulled me on top of him and he started tickling my sides while nuzzling my neck.

"I think you should call off work tomorrow and stay in bed with me all day."

"Oooh, you do, do you?" reaching down under the covers to find him fully aroused and ready for me. I think I'm going to enjoy getting to know my new neighbor...

The End

The Ritual

By

Alexa S. Chase
Chapter One

Growing up with my cousins, Jade and Alison, was certainly a blessing. If anything, they're more like sisters to me. Being raised in a Druid family with ancient abilities also had its perks; oh the trouble we would get into. We're all roughly the same age with Alison being the oldest at twenty-six and Jade and I, a few months apart at the age of twenty-four.

It's because of their love that I have returned to our quaint beach town of Isle of the Palms, South Carolina, in October, nonetheless. I used to anticipate the autumnally month; the brilliant hues of nature going into rest, the warm and spicy scents wafting in the cool breeze, the pranks and laughter, the Samhain festivals, and... the romance.

I wasn't just blessed growing up with cousins my age, but also the boy next door, Brandon, the only man I ever fell for... the one I was to marry a month before the disastrous incident that diminished his life on an acrimonious, October night, three years ago.

Being back home, plucked sadly at my heartstrings and I can't help but wonder how life here would've been if my Druid abilities never took a turn for the worse...if Brandon never had to save me from the raging fires that ate at our new home.

Unconsciously looking up at the full moon perched high in the velvet sky, I imagine him standing beside me, holding my hand.  
A group of laughing teenagers dressed in slutty costumes walk by, jolting me back to my senses and the happy sounds send daggers to the pieces of my soul that are barely hanging on, barely alive.

I bite back my lips as to not let them tremble and then let out a hefty sigh and focused on what I came here to do. Tonight, Jade needs me as she's suffering from a heartache of her own and these Town Hall Halloween balls always filled her with delight; and for the amount of time she spent calling over the phone checking on me over the years concerned, she deserves all the happiness that can be provided. Even if I can't find it for my own.  
Taking a couple deep breaths as I shake images of demons and fires from my head, I begin trekking across the parking lot and ascend the stairs leading to the grand entrance of the Town Hall.  
Reaching a lengthy window pane just before the door, I inspect my costume in its reflection. As a tribute to Brandon, I've decided to come to this year's ball as an angel. The gown is a silky, backless and single-strapped dress that shows far too much leg for my taste through a lengthy side slit, but I couldn't refute the beauty of the intertwining designs made of frail golden lace lining the bottom hems like Celtic knot work.

The wings are medium sized and frilly with snowy white plumes that dazzle in the moonlight. I lean towards my reflection and pull my golden curls to hang neatly over my bare shoulders. Ugh. Even through the window's tint, the desperate need for powder for the bags under my eyes are noticeable.  
"To hell with it," I mutter louder than intended, waving my hand dismissively at my likeness in the window.

The doorman is snorting amusingly at me and I whip my head towards him to throw him a sneer. Just as I am crossing the threshold, I am ambushed by Alison, dressed as the naughty devil I always knew she was.

"There you are! Thought you would never show," Alison shrills as she throws her arms around me in a tight embrace. "I missed you, sweetheart. So glad you came."

I plaster on my best smile and return the embrace. "Missed, you."

Alison weaves an arm through mine and leads me through the wild crowd. "How was the drive from Texas?"  
"It was alright," I say softly, the crowd panicking me slightly.  
The music is loud and the people are cheery and I just want to throat punch every single person on our way through. Alison must have sensed me tensing, because she looks up at me with doe eyes, the look that says, "You poor thing." I hate it. I scramble my head for a topic changer.  
Ah.  
"So what exactly happened?"  
"Huh?" she looks alarmed by my question.

"With Jade..." I shoot her a wary glance, brows cocked, curious of her unusual demeanor.

"Oh! Yeah, we... uhm--Oh hey! This is Elijah. My date." She shoves me towards him as we approach our table, likely eluding my question for whatever reason.

Wow, he's quite a catch. Stunningly handsome, but in a dark and enigmatic manner. His hair is dark and lengthy, combed to the side in an exceptionally classy style, but it's his eyes that leave me curious. He greets me with a nod and a lopsided grin.

I shake his offering hand but once our skin makes contact, an inexplicable chill rolls throughout my body. Repulsed, I snap back, leaving his hand hanging in the air.

What the fuck.

An alarm of evil sings through me and I know immediately this man is not human.  
Alison and her "date" eye each other cautiously. I turn to Jade who is slouching over the table, hand threaded in her long black hair.

"Jade, time to talk. What trouble are you getting me mixed into?"

Like the peas in a pod that we are, she, too, is adorning an angel costume. Her wings are small and a sad shade of grey. Jade turns to face me, flashing those brilliant green eyes at me which were once rounded with delight, but now sit deep on her face with a gloomy haze in her stare. Instantly, I am filled with remorse.

I throw an accusing look over my shoulder at Elijah and Alison as I walk towards Jade ready to embrace her, but as I lean forward, something just behind her glitters under the revolving ceiling lights, stealing my attention.

"Oh." The word slips from my mouth quietly as I take in the sight of the most beautiful man I've ever seen, beauty that radiates despite the half silver Phantom mask that covers one side of his face. Dark blonde waves sit tucked behind his ears, curling up under his earlobes, framing his perfectly, strong, handsome face.  
Gah, and he's headed right for us.

He's weaving through the crowd, smiling politely as he excuses himself through the packed tables, and my heart begins to thud against my ribs violently as I watch him squeeze his way through. I want to kick myself for the wayward thoughts that spring to mind.

All of a sudden, he's standing at our table and my eyes won't peel away from his grey ones, a dazzling, smoky color I've never seen before.  
But as I watch his casual smile melt into a brief look of discontent as stares me down, I am shoved back into my state of insecurity and I can't even expound why.

"This must be Ellie." His voice is velvety and melts my insides.

Jade stands up, tucking her chair under the table and takes my hand, leading me towards him.

"Ellie, this is Micah. He's new to town."  
"Obviously..."  
Regardless of the echoing party racket throughout the ballroom, the awkward silence which follows my statement is thick with tension. Alison and Jade are exchanging nervous glances on either side of me, Jade squirming in her spot. "Oh? How so?"  
"What the hell is going on here?" I laugh. "I only mean that his accent is definitely not from around here."  
Jade and Alison sag in relief.  
"Uhm, nice to meet you, Micah," I begin, my tone hostile, "but if you don't mind, I need a word with my cousins."  
Micah nods uneasily in response.  
Alison and Jade shrill in argument as I pull them away a few tables over.  
"Do our parents know you are commiserating with demons?"  
The colors drain from my cousins faces.  
Ah. They didn't think I'd catch on.  
They blink wordlessly, so I continue my chiding. "Is this why you wanted me to visit? Having trouble with demons? Whatever it is, this is the one time you'll have to count me out."  
Alison places her hand on my shoulder calmingly, "Honey, I think you're being a little paranoid. There are no demons--"  
"Don't lie!" I shout. I calm down and look around until the stares die down and quietly add, "I felt the demonic energy coming off from Elijah."  
"Oh," Jade squeaks.  
Alison picks up a plate of chocolate strawberries, busying herself to hide her obvious nervousness and said matter-of-factly, "We can talk about this later. Tonight is about us being reunited. As simple as that. They are just friends. No hidden, agenda, "her voice cracks at the end. "Can we just be cool for one night?"  
I am so offended of her nerve to lie to my face yet again, that I can actually feel my face heat with fury.  
"Not when there's a demon sitting at our table scarfing down an entire serving bowl of chocolate pudding," I spit, gesturing towards the table. They turn to observe then hang their heads in shame, clearly embarrassed.  
"Ignore him...his manners are... unworldly, "Alison says, then continues in a more demanding tone, "You just go have some fun. Micah is a nice guy."  
Jade and Alison are walking back towards the table when everything begins to click. I bounce in step behind them, grabbing on to their shoulders yanking them to a halt.  
"You set me up on a date? That's what this is about? It's hard enough to be back in this shitty town without Brandon, and now you're trying to pair me up with the one species that ended his life and expect me to be okay with it?"  
"Micah isn't a demon," Jade says softly, cautiously even, as she peers at him from the corner of her eye.  
I look over at the table and both...men, are staring unnervingly at me. Alison sighs and begins to explain. "Fine. Whatever. We just thought Micah was a nice guy and would be what it takes for you to learn how--"  
"You two are heartless bitches. You guilt trip me into coming here for Jade's sake and this was all just some sort of plot to introduce me to some dude?"  
"It's hard to explain why I need you here, I am not trying to hurt you," Jade says.  
I pivot angrily, headed for the exit. "Don't try following me."  
God, I feel like a complete idiot.  
"Well, that was a quick visit," I hear Alison say gravely as I am storming away.  
Jade matches my pace, falling into step with me holding on to anchor me.  
"Ellie, please." Her voice tremors. "There's so much going on right now and the truth is, I do need you. I don't want to be completely selfish, but I need time to figure out how to explain everything to you. Our parents can't find out. Yes, Elijah is demon, but Micah is...Oh Ellie, We just want you to learn to smile again. It's not like we're trying to get you to hook up and shack up or anything. You've been isolated for so long, blaming yourself over something you aren't to be blamed for." The tone in her voice is pleading, and quivers as if she's on the verge of tears.  
But I refuse to be a part of whatever scheme these girls are up to.  
I stop abruptly, whipping around to face her. "That's the thing, Jade. I love my privacy. You don't understand how it feels to carry the burden of someone's death on you. I don't deserve happiness again and I refuse to be selfish."  
"But you are being selfish. We need you. And Micah...he just wants to help, too."  
"This is embarrassing." I laugh humorlessly. "How much have you told him?"  
Jade's expression turns gravely.  
"I only gushed how amazing you are, that your heart is broken and you could use a friend."  
"When will you all just respect I don't want anything to do with anyone?  
"Ellie, I promise it--"  
"No. I don't want to hear anymore."  
I stormed my way out of the building, slipping out of straps that hold my wings to my back and tossed them into the hedges as I walk down the pebbled pavement towards the parking lot. I scan my gaze over the parking lot, forgetting where the fuck I parked my car.
Chapter Two

You'd think coming to these events your whole life, you'd be able to remember exactly where you parked. Never the case for me. I walk up and down the rows of parked cars, frustration building up quickly, waving my fob in the air clicking it frantically but the cheap piece of shit isn't detecting my car.  
Right when I thought my night couldn't get worse, the heel to my shoes snap off and I tumble to the ground. I scrape every patch of bare skin on impact with the asphalt, but all my anger, frustration and embarrassment rolls into one sensation and I begin to sob once again.

I raise the back of my hand to my lips to suppress the squeaky sounds of my hyperventilation and let the inevitable tears fall.

A rough, warm hand wraps around my bare shoulder, shocking a load of adrenaline to my veins and I scramble backwards. I look up and dread builds in the pit of my stomach, anchoring me to the ground, me as I take in his handsome face. Micah.

"You scared the crap out of me." I snap, quickly wiping away all evidence of the fallen tears.  
An amused smile spreads across his face as he lowers himself next to me, squatting. "Well, that's a pleasant thought."

I glare at him. "What do you want?"  
"Regardless of what you may think, I'm not here to insert myself into your life, nor am I expecting a fling of any type to develop between us."

"Yeah, I could tell." I scoot back to lean against a car, flinching at the last second realizing it's not mine...phew, no alarm. "That glower of repulsion said it all when you looked at me."

He lowered his head, shaking it as a light smile played across his lips. "I heard you were a tremendous person, and I was glad to have finally met you, I just didn't expect you to be..." he lets out a heavy sigh, scrubbing as smooth jaw.

"What, that I'd be such a miserable wreck?"

He shakes his head solemnly and lowers himself, tucking his legs between his arms as he leans against the car beside me. A forlorn expression takes over his handsome face as he gazes at the moon and a strange urge overcomes me, to kiss those soft cheeks of his, to let him know he's not alone in the vast maze of heartbreak.

Without removing his gaze from the moon, he admits somberly, "I just know what it's like to go through the pangs of grief; to give up on the one thing that triggered the events that led you to your despair."

I am floored by the sudden flip of my heart as he turns to meet my gaze-- this time his eyes are gentle and the soft glow of moonlight washes over him like a midnight spotlight; setting his striking, strong features on display for my heart's content. I mentally chide myself, wondering what's become of me and my emotions and I look away. If there's one thing that I can pinpoint about what's changing, is that I am open to give a listening ear to someone who knows at least a little bit about what I am going through.

He lifts my hands from my knees, gives it a friendly squeeze, and tugs my chin with his other hand to face him. Self-loathe accommodates the heat that spreads throughout my body, and I swallow back hard. It's been so long since I've felt the touch of another man...but there's something about this one that I just cannot explain why I am so struck by his presence. I refuse to believe it to be anything other than a regard for forgotten human affection. I don't even know him, for godsakes.

I am so lost in my emotions I don't realize he's speaking to me until he says my name.  
"I'm sorry...what?"

He laughs with a sparkle in his eye. God, he's beautiful.

"Curious to see if you're willing for a fresh start, it'd be nice to have a friend to confide in who can cognize with what I've been through." He offers a small smile.

Before my heart can oppose, my head nods in approval. "Sure."

He beams radiantly and suddenly, my heart, too, agrees.

Chapter Three

Over the course of a week, Jade, Alison...Elijah...Micah and myself, go out on the town to explore and for the first time in years, I am... living. I've found excitement, joy and laughter without mulling over the past, relieved of my guilt without forgetting...him.

A part of me began to feel as if Micah were sent from the heavens above; to ease me back into the arms of joy and I'd jokingly call him my angel but a look of discomfort would flicker across his expression as if the words were an insult. I took him for a man of no faith until last night when we were sitting on Jade's porch and said that I was his angel.

It was so romantically cheesy, that I behaved on impulse and kissed him on those fleshy lips of his. Staggered by my boldness, I awkwardly headed for my car and drove back to my parents without a word.  
It was incredibly embarrassing and now here I am...assessing my formal attire with school girl jitters in the full length mirror in my childhood room--the same mirror I'd inspect myself before a night out with Brandon as kids.  
My eyes well with tears at the thought but I quickly stray from falling back into my pool of gloom and twist in my little white dress gazing into the mirror checking for panty lines and tread out of my room; ready for our family's dinner at the country club where Micah and the gang are awaiting for my arrival.

A short drive away, I arrive at the club, avoiding the valet and park my car in the lot and prepare myself to be lost in the vicinity of Micah's temptation. Walking into the open entrance, I chant quietly to myself, "I am not falling in love, I am not falling for—Oh, hey, Micah."

I choke on my words as I see him standing next to the maitre'd. This man is completely... My thoughts are hindered by the arousal which spreads down into the depths of places that have been slumbering for way, way too long.

Micah shoots me a wink as he strides my way, his long legs clad in black trousers and decorative suspenders. I'd laugh if it were anyone else wearing them, but strapped against his broad chest is beyond words of magnificence.

I can even make out the golden tone of his skin through the light fabric of his button-up and the outlines of his chiseled muscles make me want to cry... his name, over and over.

What. The. Fuck. I am losing it.

He takes my hand and kisses it before wrapping it around his arm as we begin to walk. Where? I don't know, because I'm too busy mentally chanting my wayward thoughts away.

"We can pretend last night's kiss never happened if it's going to keep you from speaking to me tonight." He smiles impishly.

I want to tell him I don't want to forget it, to tell him I want his lips on mine to keep me from being able to speak, but luckily, we come to a stop at our table where my cousins and their friends are chatting, oblivious to our arrival and take our seats.

A couple hours go by and we're the only two left at our table, carelessly discussing random musings and what not's—though I seem to be the only one speak as he doesn't have much to say about himself.  
Gingerly, he lifts a hand to politely interrupt me, a smile spreading across his face as he points over his shoulder. "This song is absolutely beautiful."

"It is, isn't it?"

It's a romantic ballad and as he begins to stand, I laugh hysterically knowing what's coming next. It's confirmed as he offers his hand to me. I shake my head, waving my arms. "No, absolutely not. I don't dance."  
He tilts his head, playfully pouting and it's so cute I can't help but laugh again. A somber look washes over his face, and he lowers himself, holding on to either side of my seat and looks intently into my eyes, his grey ones, smoldering, and suddenly my mouth goes dry. "Ellie," he begins, his voice hoarse, "I have to be honest with you. It's only fair. This time I've spent with you opened me to the possibilities of..." he pauses again and I'm seriously going to explode with suspense.

He stands up, swiveling around on his heels and rakes his hand through his neatly combed hair, tousling the gelled strands out of place.

"What do you want to tell me?" I ask.

He turns back towards me and pulls me out of the chair. We're walking out the back door and I glance over my shoulder curious to see if there's something I just missed—I'm so confused. We stop before the deck steps, and I can hear the roaring tides of the ocean several yards away. He lifts me up and places me on the wooden banister, perplexed and off balance I hold on to his shoulders, his arms are tense and I can feel how his muscles twitch.

"Micah, what's wrong, what possibilities were you talking about? Freaking me out a bit..."  
"That's the last thing I want to do, Angeli," he breathes as he leans towards me, his arms on either side of me and hangs his head, looking away.

"Angeli?"  
"There's something I want to tell you, show you even. But if your cousins find out, I imagine they'll never forgive me."

"Oh god, you didn't kill anyone, did you?"

He forces a laugh, shaking his head. When he looks back up at me, flames are dancing within his eyes and for just a moment, fear instills within in me. I cower back but he's holding on to my shoulders now, tightly.  
Shit. I knew it.

"Give me a moment to explain?"

I open my mouth to berate him but a couple walks past us, Micah is looking over his shoulder waiting for them to leave but another flock linger nearby. He looks back at me helplessly and I am reminded why my emotions are all in rage for this...man.

The hurt in his eyes is evident, deep, and before I realize it, my hands envelope his face pulling him in. My lips softly brush against his before he draws away and I am left with a sudden pent of vexation.

I open my mouth to voice what I think about that but he's lowered back to the ground and places his hands beneath my calf. The heat of his touch is blazing, making me want to burst out of my skin. He drags his hand slowly down the side of my leg, not removing his eyes from mine. "Mi—Micah. What are you doing?"  
Without answering, he removes my shoes from my feet and lifts me into his arms, carrying me down the deck stairs with my heels still in his grasp.

"Where are we going?"

Upon finding a small, secluded alcove, he places me down, my toes digging into the cool sand. He removes his shirt and nervously, I chortle, "Micah, it's, like, forty degrees outside."

Ignoring me, he tosses his shirt to the side and in a pained tone, "I think I understand my fate, after so many years, I finally understand why it took me so long to be called to this realm."

Nothing but questions pop into my head, but I can't voice a single one.

"And while I don't want to rush you into any decisions about how you feel about me, I want to tell you how much I'm learning that you mean to me. Without scaring you off, I want to show you the truth. Just please, don't be mad at me, especially not at Jade. This agreement was for the best for the three of us."

Questions. Still no voice.

"I am a prisoner of Hell, Ellie, but it wasn't fo--"

"Prisoner of Hell!? What the fuck, Micah?" I begin to panic and bantered as I tried to run away, but he catches me and pins me against the hard sandy surface of the hill.

"I fell because of love. I wanted to find love, a part of my past which is a hard to explain but if you give me a chance in time, I can tell you my story. But for now, all I can say is that I've been given a chance at my three trials. Jade wanted me to help you find joy, to feel it, live it. After it, I would get to begin my journey to redemption for a Return."

I want to be angry... I do, but I am so tied up in my emotions and all I keep thinking about was the thought of losing him for good. I don't want to lose him. I begin to cry and he's looking down at me, smiling, because he knows now what I've decided on my feelings.

"I don't want to Return, Ellie. But there's only one more thing that stands in between..."

"What?"

"If I don't complete my trials, I have to go back to Hell."
Chapter Four

"Why?!" I am hysterical.

"Elijah...he's the gatekeeper...He was sent here by, well you can imagine, I'm sure."

I gasp in horror and utter disappointment overwhelms me over Alison's insanity of being with him.  
"The thing is," he begins, "he's on our side. But he's still in touch with the Ward and if I stay here, they will come to this real once they have suspicions. That would not only be bad for us, but for your kind as well."

"You're telling me you have to go back?"

He wipes the tears from my eyes, kissing me on my forehead. "Jade has found a love of herself, our leader Cahlzeal. He's down there right now planning an uprising. I wanted no part of it, I just wanted to go home. That was, until I met you."

I have no words, just tears.

"I ensure you I'll be back, I'm, sure. There's a huge mass following the plans for a rebellion and I will do my best to give it my all, to see it through. Are you willing to wait for me, Ellie?"

I rattled my head side to side. "No," I choke out.

"Well," he says gravely, "I guess there will have to be another—"

"I want you, now." I throw my hands around his neck, pulling him in for a feverish kiss, the kiss I've been waiting a lifetime for. I press myself against him, eager for him to hold onto me in return. Everything happened all at once, he lifts me up as I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his skin.

A growl resonates through his chest, escaping as a groan, sounding as if he was in pain. He throws his head back and protruding just behind his shoulder is a vibrantly pair of snowy plumes. I am in awe as I watch them rise above and beside him.

When his sounds of pain die down and his wings beat softly behind him, he collapses onto the sand, propping himself up with one strong arm into the sand as to not crush me.

"You're beautiful," I admit.

He strains a laugh, breathing into my neck, "That's a harsh hit to my man-pride."

"Okay," I smile, "You're sexy." I lift my hand, trailing a finger down a single feather. It's softer than anything I've ever felt, but suddenly, just above my hips, I'm hit with something of his, hard.

Oh shit.

I lock gazes with him, his eyes flaming once again.

I bite my lip, emboldened by his arousal; I squirm beneath him, pressing myself against the bulge beneath his trousers. He hisses in pleasure.

"Ellie..."

"Shh." I kiss him softly. "Love me," I dared him.

"I think I already do." The bump in his throat rises and falls and I know he's been waiting to admit it.

"Good."

I reach between us, unzipping his trousers, and slip my hand through the opening searchingly for him. Grasping his hard length in my hand, I motion my hand up and down with pressure. He drops me from his one-armed grip, kissing me ravenously and a stray hand slips beneath the tight fabric of my cocktail dress, pulling at my panties.

I wriggle out of them eagerly and when he's back on top of me, I grab onto his thick cock and guide it right where I want it. I am so wet for him, he slips through the tightness with no hesitation and I shriek in pain and pleasure. He's so large, it hits all the right spots simultaneously and I am already on the brink of release.  
The intensity of his thrusting, I can tell it's been forever for him as well; that he truly understands what the lack of affection can do to one's mind...and their body, but the way he kisses me and whispers my name, I know it's me that that's unraveled his undoing, just as he has done for me.

Without Micah, I would probably never have learned to love again. I push him off from me, wanting to show him just what he's done to me. He's sitting breathlessly on his knees, and in between breaths, he asks, "Did I do something wrong?"

I flash him a sincere smile and mount him once more, swaying my hips back and forth, tenderly at first on his throbbing length.

"I want you in as many ways as possible before you disappear for a while..."

A mixture of grief and ecstasy gleam in his eyes and he pulls my face towards his, claiming my lips with his.

I guide a hand of his down to my ass and urge him to hold me tightly, and I begin to rock back and forth violently, encouraged by his sounds of pleasure. Beneath my palms, I feel the muscles in his back begin to tense as he slides both hands beneath my ass, squeezing each cheek in his strong hands as he supports my weight as he stands to his feet.

He ambles through the sand, my legs wrapped around his waist, and slams into me with a surge of repetitive strength, cushioning my back from the rough surface with his hands. The pleasure from his pulverizing within me, is too much to bear. I cry his name as I dig my nails deep into the soft skin above his collarbone and then clamp my teeth into his flesh to hinder my cries from getting any louder.

His fingers dig into my hips, and his hot slick surges into me, sending me into a flurry of shrills yet again. Though he doesn't make a sound any louder than a barely audible groan, I feel his chest beneath mine vibrating. I place my head onto his shoulders and I can hear a thundering sound echoing throughout his body.

My newfound love is a strange creature, but I am so fond of him that I'm already longing for his return to me, the journey to getting to know him as he is...for what he is.

I smile as he presses into me affectionately; our breathing elated and our bodies still against the sandy hill. My head still nuzzled between his neck and shoulder, I stroke his snowy plumes as three little words linger on my tongue.

I feel a smile lift his cheeks against my skin, and he says teasingly, "We better get dressed and head back. Wouldn't want you to fall madly in love with me too quickly."

"Too late," I whisper.

He pulls his head back, and flashes me a blissful smile and breathes, "Me, too, Ellie," and kisses me with passion that makes me cry with tears of joy.

The End
Convince Me I'm Yours

By

Adera Orfanelli

Leaves crunched under my wide paws and I leapt over a fallen tree as big around as my waist as easily as humans crossed a crack in the sidewalk. My tongue lolled out of my mouth. The play of muscles beneath my grey fur was so much better than an hour spent on the stair master in my second bedroom, but it was far less appropriate to society. I reached the fence post that marked the boundary of my property; I couldn't go any further.

Disappointed, and knowing I'd need a longer run later, I turned around and headed back to my small house deep in the Missouri woods. At the edge of the trees I shifted. Fur melded into skin; paws transformed back into hands. My tail shifted away, and naked, I walked on carefully tended ground to my house. I grabbed the robe I left hanging on my clothes line and wrapped it around my body.

"You don't have to bother." The masculine voice stopped me cold. I should have scented his intrusion on my tiny bit of paradise. That I hadn't told me that I worried too much about my recent arrival to the area. I'd moved here for silence and solitude...at least that was the story I'd told everyone else. Frankly, something had drawn me to this place. Someone had too, and I couldn't stop the snarl that left my lips at the sound of his voice.

"What do you want, Aaron?" I tugged my robe tighter around my naked body and continued walking between the stones I'd laid out to mark a safe-for-bare-feet path between the woods and the house. "And why are you here? I told you to stay away."

"Your brother is getting married next week. You need to be there."

I stopped and turned to stare at Aaron. His chambray shirt and jeans had been worn to nearly white and molded to his powerful muscles like a second skin. Even his scuffed work boots were sexy, and I fought hard to remind myself that we weren't together anymore. Seeing him like this had my nipples hardening and heat rushing south. I turned and opened the fridge, letting a blast of cool air work its magic.

When I turned back to him, closing the fridge door with a sports drink in hand, Aaron grinned. Apparently he'd still been able to tell how he affected me. "I can't," I said, twisting open the top of the bottle and sitting down at the kitchen table. "You know that. I left home far too early, leaving not just my brother, but an abusive pack member and the pack. I'm a lone wolf. You can't go home again when you do that."

"Mira," Aaron said, using my name like a caress. He reached for my hand. "Things have changed." His thumb lightly caressed my palm.

Heat flooded my body. I drew my lower lip between my teeth and wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to stand up, drop my robe and take him into my bed and my body. I remembered all too well the touch of his hands, his lips, and the all-consuming way he'd made love to me. From the pheromones he was giving off, no doubt he was remembering too.

"Not for me, they haven't." I didn't pull my hand away from his. "My father's still alive, and that means I'm packless. He was the one who decreed it. It's still in effect until he's dead. Besides, I've fucked a vampire. That's a worse sin these days, isn't it?"

Aaron released my hand. "You had to mention that didn't you?" He waited until I'd set my bottle on the table, then pulled me to my feet. Hauling me against his body I felt every delicious inch of his muscled frame. His pheromones wrapped around me, as insistent as the hard ridge of his erection pressing into my stomach. I melted against him, even as I mentally kicked myself for giving into his charms. He slid his fingers into my hair and pulled my mouth to his.

He kissed me, the raw hunger in the crush of his lips against mine, the way a growl rumbled through his chest totally turning me on. I opened to him, welcomed the thrust of his tongue. I cupped his shoulders with the need to find something to anchor myself because my world had suddenly started to spin. Aaron swallowed my moan, and when his other hand slid to the front of my robe, I didn't mind that he'd tugged open the ties.

The world spun, or maybe it was Aaron turning us around so I was backed against the counter. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed my waist and sat me on the counter—hooray for werewolf strength. My robe fully opened. Aaron's rough fingers curled over my left breast. I arched into his touch.

Heat flooded my body. I knew I was secreting pheromones; I smelled Aaron's, and they made me want him even more. My pussy throbbed, aching with a demand to be filled.

Aaron broke the kiss long enough to draw a sharp breath, and then his mouth was on my shoulder, my chest, until he blazed a trail to my right breast to draw the nipple into his mouth. I cried out. Desires long denied flared to life, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that before Aaron left today, we would make love.

I didn't care. The time we had before I'd moved here had faded, or at least I'd hoped it had. With each touch, each caress, the memories sharpened and heightened my desire. It didn't matter that I'd tried to convince myself I didn't need a werewolf nursemaid. My own former pack didn't care about my existence; the neighboring pack, of which Aaron was a member, did. He was appointed my guardian, my protector, my guide through the troublesome world of shifter politics, made all the more dangerous in this part of the state because of other shifter groups in the area. And then there were the vampires.

Except he was more than that and only my foolishness had kept him at arm's length for this long. He released my nipple. A moment later he flicked open the button on his jeans while I worked at his shirt. It opened, baring a strip of his magnificent chest. I ran my hands along his skin as far as I could, reveling in the springy hair beneath my touch, the way his muscles flexed beneath my caress. "I want you," he growled.

My robe already opened, my legs parted and my labia bared to him, I could do little more than nod. I'm sure he could already smell my arousal, and short of spreading my legs even more, there wasn't much I could do to telegraph my need. "Yes," I said, then drew my lower lip between my teeth as I realized the importance of what I'd done.

I'd allowed Aaron to get close to me—again.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as he grabbed my waist and pulled me close. My balance kept me from falling off the edge of the counter; I grabbed his shoulders to stay in place. He drew my lips down to his and kissed me. Hungry and hard, his tongue sliding between my lips, leaving me no doubt what he wanted to do. He angled his hips between my thighs. His cock brushed against me, and he swallowed my moan of pleasure.

My inner muscles tightened. I rocked against him, fingers flexing against his skin. My nails might have scored his back. I smelled the tang of blood. But by then he was there, the blunt head of his cock pressed against me. I moaned as he entered me, stilling only when he was deep inside. He pressed his forehead to mine, and I felt him visibly shudder. He remained still, his cock filling me. Drawing a deep breath, he started to move.

I could only hang on. Sitting on the counter, I had little room to maneuver. So I leaned back, wrapped my legs around his hips and let him fuck me. Aaron was so good at the act of loving. He leaned forward and nuzzled my chest, his hips pistoning into me.

My orgasm neared. I always blew like a rocket the first time, then settled in for one, or more, slow, leisurely releases. With a cry, I came.

Aaron groaned. "Mira," he said, my name a rumble on his voice. "I can't wait."

Then don't. Already, I was rising toward my second orgasm. I didn't think I'd get there. He reached between my legs, his fingers finding my clit. He rubbed me to a second orgasm as he stiffened and came. The hot spill of his seed inside me startled me; he hadn't used protection. I quickly mentally counted days—nothing pulled you out of the mood like accidental sex—and knew I'd be okay. Pups would be the last thing I'd need, and it'd screw up pack relations like nothing else could.

Aaron held me tightly, his cock still hard inside me. Neither one of us said anything, though I suspect we didn't have to. I mean, he'd come here to do something other than have sex with me, not that I minded, and yet, here we were, naked. It'd happened a bit too much before we'd had a fight and broken off our romantic relationship. I'd say it was too bad the pack still considered him my nursemaid, except the fringe benefits were rather nice.

"We still need to talk about your brother's wedding," he said.

Any traces of arousal I'd felt were washed away beneath the cold sting of his words. I pushed at his shoulders. "No. We don't. And you have to move the edge of the counter is biting into my ass." Over the last few moments, I'd become aware that I was sitting at an odd angle, perched on the edge of the counter. I glanced at my robe lying on the floor, too far away for me to get.

"All right," he said, and from his easy acquiescence, I knew he was up to no good. He stepped back, his cock sliding free. It stood at more than half mast. If I had any sense, we'd simply take this to my bedroom and forget about verbal communication for the rest of the night. It'd sure be a lot more pleasurable than discussing the many reasons why I refused to go to my brother's wedding. He bent down, giving me a great view of the long line of his back, and picked up my robe. He handed it to me. "Put this on. You're distracting."

"I'm distracting?" I slid from the counter, then put on the robe. I gestured to his cock. "Cover that thing up."

He did, but not without a smile that said I'd given him a bit too much ammunition about how I felt about him. Caught between a werewolf and a vampire; it was a hell of a place to be.

When he was dressed, he sat back down at the table. I would have liked to shower, maybe put on something other than the robe and no underwear. I grabbed my sports drink and sat down at the table across from him. "Speak," I ordered. I was figuring out this visit. He said things had changed, but I was betting they hadn't. Until I'd mentioned Frederick, the vampire, he'd been all business. One mention of my having sex with the vampire and all of a sudden he was all possessive, alpha werewolf. "This isn't about my brother's wedding."

Aaron sighed. "Mira, you're being difficult. It is about your brother's wedding. If you show up, you'll be forgiven. You won't be packless."

I was glad I hadn't taken a drink, because I would have choked. I took a moment anyway to process the words. "Forgiven?" I licked my lips and took a deep breath, wondering if I dared even hope for such a thing. Even if the abuse, if my father's actions were taken out of the picture, I had two scars on my throat to prove that I'd been bitten by a vampire. Given that I was still walking around, I'd been willingly bitten, because in our clan no self-respecting werewolf would allow herself so close to a vampire.

Aaron nodded. "I told you things have changed."

"My father is still alive." I drained the last of my sports drink, then stood and went to the fridge. I grabbed the pitcher of water and took two large plastic cups from the dish drainer. I poured two glasses of water and sat down again.

Aaron took the glass and drank. "Elder pack members have convinced him that he may wish a relationship with his daughter if he wants to see any grand pups."

I coughed. "Grand pups? And who would be the father?" I stared pointedly across the table. At one time Aaron had offered me all of that, a family, a marriage, a pack. I'd been a fool to turn him down, but I still had my independence. That was more important to me than anything, even the possibility of having a pack again.

Aaron shrugged. "I just report the news. I don't make it." He grinned. "Your brother has told me personally he wants you there. He hasn't taken your father's place on the pack's Elder council yet, but he was strong voice to exile the one who hurt you."

I shook my head, wanting to call bullshit on every word Aaron was saying. "The one who abused me, who almost raped me, was the pack leader's son. If Rand won't be there, his father will be. I can't show up at my brother's wedding if I'm going to see any of them. As much as I want to see my brother—" I paused and took another deep breath. I'd been close to my brother. He'd found me after, helped me clean my wounds, and I'd been the one to keep him from going after Rand and ripping out his throat. Ellie, his fiancée, was a well-respected pack daughter. We hadn't been friends, though she'd been nice enough to me. If my brother was marrying up a bit in pack hierarchy, I was happy for him. "I can't," I finished lamely.

"The pack leader will be there. He has to be by tradition and because Ellie is his niece. He's giving her away since his brother died last year," Aaron confirmed.

I nodded. I knew of her father's death, though some wondered if it had been suicide since his mate had passed the year before. Ellie had had a difficult couple of years. I didn't want my presence to ruin her wedding. She deserved to have a beautiful day and I'd only bring the memory of past wounds back to the pack.

Aaron rose from his chair. "I know this is hard for you. Think about it. I think things have changed." He started for the door.

The problem was, I figured that I'd changed too. Being on my own had given me strength that I hadn't really known I'd possessed. I hadn't had anything to do with my pack for years now. As much as I missed my brother, I also appreciated not being under pack control. Women were getting more rights and roles within the pack; it wasn't quite as archaic as it used to be. It wasn't the twenty-first century, either.

"Thanks for stopping by." God, I sounded so lame. I tugged my robe a bit tighter around me and watched as Aaron stopped and turned.

"Mira, everything I'd ever offered is still on the table. I want you. I just hope you realize how much before it's too late." He waited a moment, then left.

The door closed behind him and the air left my lungs. I was screwed, and not just by that sexy werewolf. Because as much as I wanted to take up Aaron on his offer, I knew the reason why I couldn't.

I was scared. I'd gotten out of a pack once and Aaron was too close to my old pack for me to risk getting any closer to him. It was a hell of a situation. My keen hearing heard his car pull away and I laid my head on my arms and resisted the urge to lift my head to the sky and howl.

****

A light breeze filtered through the gazebo, ruffling the papers I had spread over the table. A few stone statues, wolves and deer and other wildlife, held them down. I marked off answers on another test, frowning as I wondered if I could get the student to talk. I subbed at the local school district; Aaron had gotten me the job. I taught junior high, and it was a volatile time in a young adult's life anyway. Throw in shifting and werewolf hormones, and it could be positively dangerous. I suspected this student's flagging grades were due more to an excessive interest in the football team, but I couldn't know for sure. And I couldn't reveal to her that I knew what she was going through. I was packless. I wasn't allowed to reveal my werewolf nature to anyone.

A car door closed. I sniffed and frowned at the lust that hit me from the simple recognition of Aaron's scent. I watched as he walked around the house, no doubt scenting me in the back yard since the wind was blowing in his direction. I finished grading the test, secured it beneath a statue of a fawn, and waited.

I didn't have to wait long. Aaron stepped around and headed straight for me. "Have you given any thought to my question?"

"Why hello, Aaron. So lovely to see you. It's a beautiful day. Will you sit? Would you like some iced tea?" I gestured to the pitcher on the corner of the table, mocking his habitual lack of pleasantries. Are you going to fuck me again? My body indicated its hopefulness, and I frowned as I felt my nipples pebble behind the cotton of my utilitarian bra.

He didn't sit. Instead, he leaned against the table and glared down at me. "We don't have much time. If you don't come to your brother's wedding, then the offer of forgiveness is off the table. I got word today."

"Oh." I couldn't say much more. I didn't know what to say. Going to my brother's wedding still was off the table for me. Sure, it might be a decision based on pride. It was my decision to make. My former pack had to understand that, even if they didn't agree with the choice.

"I don't like it." The disgust in Aaron's tone startled me. I figured he'd side with the pack elders, be judge, jury and executioner all wrapped up into one. He had perks for watching over me; I thought he'd taken this assignment out of a sense of duty. Now, I wondered if there might be something else to it. "I know your brother's getting married, but it doesn't make sense. Why now? And why rescind if you don't show up?"

I shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe my father is going to try something. Either way, I can't go. My brother knows that. I—" I clamped my mouth closed. I had an encrypted email connection I could use to speak with my brother, though I didn't do it often. Aaron didn't need to know that.

"You what, Mina?" Aaron asked.

Damn. He was too observant. "Nothing. I was just going to say that I made my decision about this long ago. I'm sure my brother understands." I ad-libbed the words, thankful that they rolled off my tongue so easily.

Aaron looked at me for a moment. He said nothing, so either he bought the distraction or he was going to call me on it later. Finally he took a deep breath and rose to his feet. "I'm not going to beg you to go. You're the most stubborn woman I've ever met. It's your call. Just if you are going make that call before the sun goes down tonight." He gave a pointed glance in the general direction of the late afternoon sun.

"I won't call," I replied.

"I know."

I grinned. "That's why you love me."

Aaron's eyes darkened. Shit, I'd pressed the alpha wolf button again and hadn't meant to. Heat rolled from him in waves. My body responded, and for a moment I couldn't breathe.

With a slight shake of his head, Aaron, watch wolf and all around good guy was back and the alpha was tucked safely away.

I exhaled.

"And you're stubborn and torment the shit out of me." With those words, he spun on his heel and left.

Suddenly, my tests didn't hold any allure for me, so I gathered my papers to take indoors. I heard the car door slam, then the hum of the engine. A moment later Aaron pulled out of my driveway, and I didn't question why I suddenly felt as if a part myself had gone with him.

I growled my frustration at the empty back yard, then took my papers and went inside. The light blinked on the answering machine. I checked the time; the call had come in before Aaron had arrived. I didn't need to hear the message to know who it was from—Frederick, the vampire king. I dropped my papers on the end table and sank to the couch. The light's steady pulse mocked me. Answer the phone, see what else I could do for, or to, the vampire...yeah not on the heels of Aaron's visit. If Frederick ever found out about the werewolf, or about my being a werewolf, things would get ugly indeed. I reached over and hit the button to delete the message unheard. There, that ought to buy me a few hours.

Aaron's words circled through my mind. You torment me. I knew what he did to me and torment in the good way was certainly part of it. I sighed and rubbed the palms of my hands against my eyes wishing I could see, or feel, something different. I should give in. My body wanted me to give in, and I knew my heart did too. The pack, the damned, political, hierarchical, it-sucks-to-be-me-when-I'm-in-it pack kept me from acting on my wants and needs. And I bet, it penned in Aaron just as much as it repulsed me. If I decided to go to the wedding with Aaron on my arm, since I knew that was the unspoken assumption, that would place us as a couple in front of the entire pack. That...changed things.

My head hurt. I couldn't think about this right now or ever, as far as I was concerned. I rather liked our relationship the way it was, except for his thinking he was my werewolf baby sitter. But all the other parts, I didn't mind at all. I couldn't go to the wedding. I knew that. I lay down and took several deep breaths to settle my mind.

****

I awakened just enough to hear the door open. In an instant I was on alert, then relaxed as Aaron's pheromones preceded him. He stopped in the doorway to my living room.

"You really shouldn't leave your door unlocked." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb.

"And you shouldn't just walk into someone's house. I didn't expect to see you again." I didn't move except to roll onto my side so I didn't have to crane my neck to look at him.

"Tonight, or ever?" Aaron moved to a chair and sat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

I thought for a moment. Answering that question might get me into trouble. I decided on the safer route. "Tonight." I sat up, deciding that I wasn't quite comfortable lying down while he sat there. "Why are you here?"

"Because you think you're getting off easy by not going to your brother's wedding with me." Aaron rose to his feet and crossed the space between us. His expression turned serious, his form menacing as he turned on his alpha. He squatted down and cupped my chin so I couldn't look away. "You're not." His thumb moved in a rhythmic motion. "It would have been easy to go to the wedding. Now you're going to make things difficult."

If the motion of his thumb against my skin was any indication, my body wanted difficult. My breathing hitched at the emotion in his gaze, the intent way he stared at me. I should be shaking. I should be worried. Instead, I wondered when he'd quit looking and start kissing.

"I don't do things the easy way," I replied with an easy grin.

"No, you don't." Undercurrents ran beneath those words. I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I didn't think it was good. Or at least not good for my peace of mind. Aaron let his hand fall.

I stifled a whimper.

He stood up and brushed a kiss across my forehead. "I have to go for a while. I'll be back in a couple of weeks. By then the wedding will be over and maybe we can start again." He stepped back and gave a lopsided smile. "It's not very alpha of me, but maybe we can convince each other of what we both know." He didn't wait for an answer, simply turned on his heel and left.

I waited until I heard the front door close and then I laid back down on the couch, my breath whooshing from my lungs. He didn't convince me of anything. I knew, deep in my heart, that he was mine, and I was his. Just like I knew that I'd see him again, and my body hummed to life just thinking about the possibility.

The Vampire in the Coffee Table

By

Jessica Hartman

Martha marveled at her incredible find as she carefully set the golden chalice back in its padded box. She would need to get an appraisal to be certain, but its weight indicated the metal was pure gold and if so, the cabochon stones around the bowl had to be rubies instead of glass. If she brought a bottle of Merlot with her Jeremy might even do the appraisal for free, but what then? No one in this sleepy little town would be able to afford something like this, but she had some contacts in Italy who might be interested.

Lost for a moment in a daydream contemplating a trip to Italy to deliver the chalice, she had to force her mind back to the present with a faint sigh before she turned to survey the rest of her estate sale finds. Mr. Harvey, the owner of the local furniture store, had passed away last month, and no one in his family cared to keep the store running. The remaining inventory had been auctioned off this morning, and either the auctioneer didn't know what he had or he simply didn't care how much money the auction made, for he let most items go for far less than their true market value. She had picked up a pair of real Chippendale chairs and a wonderful handmade Shaker dresser, both of which were worth far more than she'd had to pay for them.

Surveying the items in her storeroom, her gaze settled on the large coffee table that was her one impulse buy. Made from oak, constructed in an odd manner, and rather plain save for a few shallow relief carvings, it looked more like a long, low altar or a strange sort of sarcophagus than a table. Instead of legs, the top was set upon a solid pedestal that resembled a coffin and the whole thing was extremely heavy. She doubted it was an antique, and wasn't certain why she'd bid on it except that something about the piece had called to her and insisted that she do so.

As she contemplated the table, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she still hadn't eaten dinner. She glanced at her watch, and blinked when she saw how late it was. She really should lock up here and go home, maybe stop by Mickey D's on the way and grab something for dinner. With the intention of doing just that, she turned toward her little office to fetch her purse and jacket -- only to find herself turning back toward the table before she'd gone two steps, drawn back by some irresistible force that wouldn't let her walk away just as she had been at the auction.

*What are you doing girl?* she asked herself as she knelt down. *Go get your things and get out of here. You've got a hot date with Eric Northman on the DVR tonight, remember? The stupid table will still be here in the morning.* No matter how much she berated herself, however, she couldn't stop caressing the flat surface of the tabletop and running her hand around the edge and underside, until finally trailing her fingertips along the seam between the top and the pedestal.

*This is madness! Big Mac. Fries. Blond hottie. C'mon girl, get a move -- wait, what's this?* Her self-directed mental rant was interrupted as her fingers suddenly encountered something underneath the table top; a little patch of wood that felt...squishy. A faint *click* sounded when she pressed inward and the tabletop moved slightly. Intrigued and excited by the discovery, with thoughts of dinner and undead Norsemen fleeing from her head, she bent lower to peer underneath and get a better look. A thin gap had opened up between the top and the base, but there must be more latches to find and release. With careful fingers she slowly examined the wood until she found one, and then another.

Inch by inch, she kept searching, finding and releasing a few more by the corners until instinct guided her fingers toward the middle of one long side of the pedestal. There she located what appeared to be a more complex release mechanism comprised of a series of several buttons which she suspected would have to be depressed in a particular order. Her conscious mind had barely registered the find before her fingers had set to work, moving as though someone or something else was guiding them to tap out a complex pattern. The final button sank in farther than expected and she felt a sharp sting on her fingertip as a tiny needle embedded in the device pierced the skin. She jerked her hand away and shoved the injured finger in her mouth, though not before a drop or two of blood had oozed out onto the wood. No sooner had she done so than there was a louder *CLICK* and the top sprang open another inch as the final catch was released. Eager to see what could possibly have warranted such elaborate measures to keep it hidden, she swung the top up and peered inside.

Startled by what she saw, she almost let the lid crash back down again, but caught it just in time. She raised the lid back up and peered inside again, hoping she hadn't seen what she thought she'd seen; unfortunately she had, for inside the compartment was...a man. A rather handsome man actually, dressed in mid-nineteenth century clothing. At first she thought he was asleep, though after a few minutes of staring at him she realized he wasn't breathing. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat, her mind whirling as she attempted to process the discovery. *Ohmigod, a dead guy. A real dead guy. There must have been some mixup with the funeral home, but how did it end up in the auction? Do I call the auctioneer or the funeral home about this? Ohmigod!*

On and on the semi-hysterical internal monologue went as she stared down at him, until suddenly a strangled sound of denial escaped her throat and her eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon his face. She'd never seen him before, had no idea who he was, and yet the thought that he was dead tore at something inside of her more than losing her parents had. He looked so young, so handsome, so vibrant to have been cut down so early. His eyes were such a wonderful shade of blue -- wait, what? She shook her head to clear the fog that had her emotions spiraling quickly downward, blinked the moisture from her eyes to clear her vision, and looked at him again. Sure enough, his eyes were wide open now and he was...smiling at her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. Clearing his throat, he tried again, and though his voice was very raspy he managed, "Good evening my dear." A pause to clear his throat once more and he continued, "I must say, you are even more lovely than I'd dared hope." Slowly he began to sit up and, though stunned, Martha straightened and leaned back to give him room.

He raised a hand to take the weight of the lid from her, and as her hand fell away, her brain started to catch up and kick back into gear. She stood and moved a few steps back as she asked warily, "Who are you, and how did you get in there?"

Almost before she could blink he had risen to his feet with graceful, fluid movements and stepped clear of the compartment he'd been lying in to stand before her. He reached out to take one of her hands, bowing over it in a very old world manner as he said in a voice that grew richer by the moment, an upper-class British accent becoming apparent, "Cailean Rutherford at your service, my lady." He raised her hand and pressed a kiss against the backs of her fingers, his lips cool where they brushed against her skin. He then pulled her hand forward to press her palm against his chest as he said earnestly, "Forever shall I hold your life and well-being to be of greater importance than mine own."

Martha blinked, was this guy for real? Uncertainly, she stammered, "Uh, what do you mean? Is this like a genie in a bottle thing? I let you out and now you're, uh, in my service or something?"

He chuckled, "No my dear, it is quite simple. I am a vampire, and you are my mate, for the gypsy's spell insured that only my true mate would have been able to find and work the mechanism on the lid to set me free."

Martha stared at him in disbelief. Vampire? True mate? Gypsy spell? Wait ... vampire? Something told her this was going to be a long night.

****

Complete silence followed Cailean's announcement save for the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Martha opened her mouth a few times as though to say something, but closed it again when she couldn't seem to find her voice. As the seconds ticked by, a bubble of hysteria rose within her and the corners of her lips twitched as a nervous laugh escaped them. "This is a joke, right? I mean...someone put you up to this?" Another nervous laugh, and she continued in a voice that was a bit too shrill, "Well Mr. Rutherford, or whoever you are, you're good, I'll give you that. You had me going for a minute there, but vampires don't exist, so you'll have to try again..." She abruptly closed her mouth and pressed her lips together angrily as she realized the man in front of her appeared to be amused by her little speech.

He held her hand between his, squeezing gently as he smiled at her and said in a soothing tone, "I know this must come as quite a shock to you, my dear, but I assure you I speak the truth. I am a vampire, and you are my true mate." He raised her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles once more, his eyes lighting up with appreciation as he gazed at her and added, "and I must say, you are exquisite indeed." He frowned slightly as he regarded her clothing and added in an undertone to himself, "Though your attire is quite strange..." A slight shake of his head and the smile returned as he finished, "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, my sweet?"

Her unfocused gaze fixed on some indistinct spot next to his right ear, she murmured, "Martha Ellingston," before she'd recovered from her daze enough to consider whether or not she should answer. She gave a mental shrug, however, and decided that he probably already knew her name anyway since this had to be some sort of elaborate Halloween prank. She did wonder idly who he really was though, and if he was from around here, because he was pretty cute; maybe later when they'd sorted this out and he'd dropped the Dracula act she could get to know him better. She heaved a sigh at that thought, and abruptly pulled her hand from his, spun on her heel, and headed for her office and the bottle of whiskey she kept in there for emergencies. If anything qualified as an emergency this certainly did, especially since something deep in her gut kept whispering to her that it didn't think this was a hoax.

She paid no attention to Cailean trailing along behind her, his brow creased with a frown and eyes full of concern, but instead went straight for the cabinet where she kept the bottle. She retrieved it and a glass, poured out a generous amount, then downed it all in one gulp, a pleasure filled sigh escaping from her lips as she swallowed. The strong liquor burned all the way down and hit her empty stomach like a bomb, but she relished the sensations as they helped her reconnect with reality, at least for a moment. She closed her eyes and savored the burn for several long seconds before giving another soft sigh and, thus fortified, turned to face her unexpected guest -- only to suck in a sharp breath when she discovered he had slipped up behind her in the interim and stood mere inches away now.

"Look, Mr. Rutherford," she started to stammer, both hands coming up to ward him off, "I think..." She was abruptly silenced as he pulled her to him, a hand at her lower back pressing her body to his in a way that made it apparent just how pleased he was to see her. Her lips parted in mute astonishment as she saw the smoldering heat in his eyes and felt an answering fire ignite low in her belly. Before she could voice an objection or even draw another breath, his other hand cupped the nape of her neck and his lips covered hers hungrily. His tongue swept in between her parted lips to duel with hers, and fanned the small fire inside her into an inferno. Consumed by her desire, she melted into his embrace, the searing kiss obliterating any remaining objections she might have had. As she started to press closer to him, he broke the kiss and pulled away to hold her at arms length while he tried to regain his composure. She moaned a denial and tried to lean in to recapture his lips, but he held her steady until reason began to return.

"I must beg your pardon, Luv," he began between heavy breaths when she reopened her eyes, "That was quite forward of me, and I do apologize." His voice deepened, becoming huskier as the smoldering light from before rekindled in his eyes, and a hint of a Scottish brogue colored his syllables beneath the cultured British accent as he added, "but there's something verra sexy about a woman who can toss 'er whiskey like that." He squeezed her shoulders as he finished speaking, the expression on his face making it clear he was struggling to resist kissing her again.

"Yeah, well, you're pretty sexy yourself." No sooner had the words left her mouth than she wanted to kick herself. The whiskey must be getting to her more than she'd realized for her to volunteer that tidbit. Sure, she found him quite attractive. What woman in her right mind wouldn't? With such artfully mussed hair the color of rich dark chocolate, a piece of which draped forward across his forehead and threatened to slip over his stunningly blue eyes, and a physique that gave testament to frequent visits to the gym, he was calendar material for sure. Still, she didn't have to tell him she thought he was hot.

He grinned rakishly at her in response and leaned in closer again, his hands slipping down behind her shoulders to pull her to him once more as he said, "I'm glad you think so, Luv. 'Twill make the matin' more pleasin'." The Scottish brogue was thicker now and oddly enough helped snap her out of the daze she was in. As he leaned forward to kiss her, she brought her hands up between them to hold him off.

"Whoa there, cowboy." She pushed against his chest and he backed off, dropping his hands from her shoulders and taking a half-step back. She quirked a wry half-smile at his confused look and said dryly, "You're getting your accents mixed up aren't you hotshot? First British, now Scottish, which is it supposed to be?" She took a few steps to the side away from him, reached for the whiskey bottle, and poured herself another stiff measure. Instead of chugging it, she just sipped at it this time, regarding him over the rim of the glass as she waited for his answer.

He gave an eloquent shrug and looked a bit chagrined as he answered in a predominately British accent (though with Scottish sounding syllables here and there), "Ah, well, 'tis not much of a secret really. I was bairn in the Highlands of Scotland in the year of our Lord seventeen and twenty, and 'twas there I grew to become a man. Soon thereafter, circumstances necessitated a move to Britain, where I was obliged to change my manner of speech to go unnoticed. The Scotsman in me tends ta come out in moments of passion, however." He winked at her.

Martha regarded him skeptically, impressed at the smooth recovery but unsure if she should buy his story or not, "Circumstances? What sort of circumstances?"

Another shrug and his expression became one of careful nonchalance belied only by the flat coldness in his eyes as he continued, "Well, you see, we had a bit of a disagreement with the British when I was in my twenty-fifth year and I got involved in a wee altercation that Winter when we came across a platoon of the bloo-, er, the Brits. In the aftermath, I was layin' on the battlefield waitin' to breathe my last when this red haired vision of a lass came out of the shadows and knelt beside me." His expression turned wistful and from the expression on his face he was far away on that long ago night once again as he continued in a soft, gentle tone, "She stroked my hair and told me she was going to make the pain stop. She called herself Sharon, and I thought she was an angel of course -- until she hiked up her skirts, pulled up me kilt, and straddled me like a lover before she leaned over and sank her teeth into my neck." He paused and glanced at Martha, looking a bit sheepish again as he finished, "I'll spare you the, ah, lurid details, but suffice it to say she rode me into death and back out again that night. Afterwards I had to hide from my kinfolk lest they discover what I'd become. I drifted southward into England, but bein' known as a Scotsman became a detriment and so, perforce, I learned to become an Englishman."

A blank stare was Martha's only immediate reply to his tale. Part of her argued he must be telling the truth because why would he bother to invent such an elaborate story as part of a joke? At the same time, however, the tale was so outlandish that she had a hard time believing it. She tossed back the rest of her whiskey and poured herself some more, taking a good swig of that one as well before she finally said, "You just learned to become an Englishman huh? Easy as that?"

A half-shrug this time, and he answered conversationally, "Well, not so easy, but yes, I did." He quirked a half-smile at her, "Desperate times call for desperate measures as they say, no?"

"Yeah, I guess," she murmured while fixing her gaze somewhere over his right shoulder again for a moment before looking down into the amber contents of her glass, desperately trying to figure out what to make of all this. When the whiskey failed to provide any answers, she looked back up at him and said, "So why should I believe any of this? Why shouldn't I believe this isn't some kind of Halloween prank? Though God only knows why you picked me -- or was I just the lucky random 'winner' when I bought the table?" She frowned as another thought occurred to her, "How did you get in there and manage to breathe all that time anyway?"

He smiled indulgently but stared directly into her eyes as he answered in a gentle tone, "I think you already believe me, Luv, whether you will or no, else we'd not be having this conversation I wager. As for the other..." He paused a moment and cast his gaze up over her head before continuing in a careful tone, "Eternity becomes rather lonesome after awhile when you're spending it all alone. Sharon stayed with me for awhile at first until I'd learned the way of things, but we weren't meant for one another, so in time she left to find another to amuse herself with, leaving me to search for the one meant for me." He smirked and his expression turned rueful as he continued, "Alas, I must admit I never was a patient man, and the thought of spending years or even decades searching didn't appeal to me. So I dinna' wait and took pleasure where I could find it, until sometime in the nineteenth century I happened to make the acquaintance of a gypsy woman who offered to help me skip the waiting as it were. Inclined to accept her offer, I obtained the table from a cabinet maker friend then let her work her magic. Her spell put me in a sort of stasis after I'd entombed myself inside of the table, and sealed the locks with magic only the blood of my true mate could break." He regarded Martha for a moment and then added, "She told me that my mate would be irresistibly drawn to the table, and the magic would then guide her hand in working the hidden mechanisms to set me free. Does this sound familiar, my dear?"

Again, Martha could only stare at him mutely, for his description was uncannily accurate regarding her experiences with the table. Something had made her unable to resist purchasing it at the auction, and earlier tonight she'd been unable to walk away once she'd touched it. Furthermore, she had felt as though something had been guiding her hand to help her find and activate the switches in the correct order. She grudgingly also had to acknowledge, at least to herself, that she did already believe him, or at least part of her did. Her gut believed him, and her mind couldn't seem to convince it otherwise. Still, the whole thing was so preposterous -- how was she really supposed to believe that he was a vampire and she was his true mate and he'd had himself locked inside a coffee table until she found him because he couldn't be bothered to wait it out and find her on his own? Ridiculous hardly began to describe it...

Her internal argument was cut short when he suddenly captured her lips in another kiss that quickly short-circuited her thought processes. She melted into him just as she had before, unable to stop herself from responding to the coaxing pressure of his lips upon hers. This time, however, he broke the kiss when she was just starting to reach the breathless stage and slipped his arms around her waist to pull her to him. He trailed feathery kisses up her jawline before murmuring in her ear, "You think too much, Luv. Sometimes, ya have ta go with what your heart is telling ya, not what yer brain thinks y'ought ta do." He moved his right hand and laid it over her heart to punctuate his words, curving his left arm around her waist as he did so to hold her to him.

"My brain is telling me this is crazy and you're a nutcase..." she replied in a soft, distracted voice as his lips brushed along the side of her neck, sucking and nipping at the tendon before following the path of her carotid back up to her ear. She forgot what else she was going to say, if anything, as desire shot through her causing her stomach to contract and a fire to ignite lower down. Her arms wound themselves around his shoulders and she arched against him, pressing her breast into the hand that slid lower to give the ample swell a gentle squeeze.

He chuckled softly and murmured into her ear, "Methinks your body's tellin' ya somethin' else, nay?" He moved closer, nudging his knee between hers, pressing her back against the desk as he continued to knead her breast through her clothing, his lips never leaving the column of her throat. "Listen to it, Luv," her urged in a whisper in between fevered kisses, "It knows what's true." His thigh pressed against her mound as her knees separated of their own accord to let him in closer.

She gasped as he nibbled on her earlobe and suddenly decided *What the hell?* Perhaps it was the whiskey talking, but she realized she didn't care right now if he was telling the truth or not. He was hot, and his hands and mouth were setting her on fire, so why shouldn't she enjoy it while she could? She'd have to give him kudos for the most inventive pickup routine ever -- later. Right now, she was too busy trying to figure out how to get this ridiculous jacket off of him with hands that suddenly seemed to contain only thumbs.

With a groan he captured her lips with his own once more, his tongue demanding entrance and sweeping in between them as he started to fumble with her clothing as well, his fingers faring a bit better with the buttons of her blouse than hers were with those on his waistcoat. A few moments later he was breaking the kiss again to pull away slightly, growling with frustration as he started to try to figure out the fastenings on her waistband, "'Twould be much easier ta get on with th' tuppin' 'f you was wearin' skirts instead of these blasted trousers."

Martha laughed, her voice husky with arousal, "Yeah, well, that getup you have on isn't exactly easy access either buster," she waved a hand toward his outfit. "Why don't we worry about figuring each others' clothes out later, hmm?"

He grinned and nodded his eager agreement and they both hastened to undress. When her bra fell away from her breasts he couldn't resist leaning in to capture a nipple in his mouth. He moved a hand between her legs and groaned against her nipple when her wetness drenched his fingers. Stroking her into a fever pitch of arousal as he sucked and nibbled both nipples into hard peaks, he moaned his approval when she grasped his shaft in her hand and start stroking him in return. She worked him with a deft touch until with a strangled cry he raised his head from her breast, grasped her waist and lifted her up onto the desk. Pressing her knees apart with his thighs and positioning himself at her entrance, he half-growled in a heavy brogue in between fervent kisses, "I'll make ye an honest woman, Love, I swear it, but I've got to have ye now!"

She moaned her agreement and wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to enter her, carefully at first as though expecting resistance, then thrusting in more boldly when he encountered none. Her moan turned to a gasp as he filled her almost to the point of pain, for even though he wasn't excessively long, he was thick and he stretched her more than anyone had before. As he began to move within her, she belatedly thought about condoms, and how he wasn't using one, but a moment later that thought fled when his lips settled on her throat and she felt a sharp sting. Before she could cry out with surprised pain, however, he sucked hard on her skin and the pulling sensation sent a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to her clit that obliterated all rational thought and sent her tumbling over the edge into the first of several orgasms. For several dozen strokes the pull of his mouth on her throat kept time with the thrusting of his cock within her, making her whimper helplessly with pleasure that far surpassed anything she'd experienced with any of her previous lovers. She was barely even aware of what he did when his tongue stroked across her skin, closing the small wounds he'd made before easing her onto her back on the desk. His lips claimed hers and she could taste a coppery tang on his tongue that a small corner of her brain recognized as the taste of blood. No sooner had she registered the fact though than he increased his pace, the new angle allowing him to reach new depths within her as he drove her into one final, exhausted orgasm before spilling himself within her.

He didn't collapse on her, but held himself up on his elbows while pressing tender kisses against her lips and jaw as she recovered, his still-hard shaft moving gently within her. When she had come to her senses enough to realize that he was still going, she looked up at him with astonishment, "You're still..." She trailed off as the rest of what had just occurred sank in and her eyes went wide with shocked realization, "And you..." She couldn't seem to find the words to articulate any more but his answering chuckle seemed to indicate that he understood what she meant.

"Aye, Love, I did, and I must say..." he interrupted himself to kiss her heatedly. "You are most delicious," he said huskily when he released her lips. He grinned then and continued, "And I can keep goin' all night, Love." He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that made her wince. The grin turned rueful when he saw it and immediately he started to withdraw as he said, "But mayhap we should find somewhere more comfortable, aye?"

She nodded her agreement and let him help her sit up once he had pulled out completely. "Yeah, probably." Her stomach growled just then, reminding her that she still hadn't had dinner. She laughed and decided not to question anything too closely for now. As she started to look for where she'd tossed her bra she said, "Let's go back to my place. I can stop to grab a bite to eat on the way, and, well..." She trailed off uncertainly for a moment, then shrugged and finished with a grin, "And I guess you can grab another one when we get home."

He grinned in response, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that promised to keep her quite busy indeed once they had arrived at her place, "Your wish is my command, my love."

With that, they both located their clothing and redressed then headed out into the night. Both knew that there would be much yet to discuss, and much more they would want to learn about each other, but for now they were content to simply get to know one another in a more elemental way that transcended mere words.

The End.

Haunted

By

Dominica Malcolm

Like a coward, Jack killed me. A pistol to my back and then I was gone, all because I shared her lover. Was that right? Fair? I did not know it then, that it was Jack who murdered me, though I feel I should have. Who else would have desired to commit such an act? We were not to know. She was too timid at the time. Too fragile. And yet, somehow she found the courage she needed. I hate that it was her who gave me this life. This body. These... fins. I hate how she trapped me in this damned ocean for all eternity.

There was a time when I could amuse myself thinking about how I still had Jack's lover, our Katherine, even after my death, but Jack took her from me again in the end. Now I have nothing but fading memories.

Many of my memories are but fragments. Stolen kisses in a dinghy, a mere touch on the beach. There is one, however, that lives with me like a dream remembered in every detail imagined. Katherine was known as Captain, then. Captain Kit Gray, for her crew did not know she was a woman. She had been seeking me out more frequently, but it was this particular night that I found out why.

I heard her Scottish accent calling for me. "Prue." Though I was miles away, her voice rippled through the ocean and pierced my ears like thunder. Her next words were but a whisper, but I still caught them. "My dear Prudence."

My body sped through time and water with such ease that I washed up on the shore of a mid-sized uninhabited island barely ten minutes after she had called my name, though it had been mere seconds for me. I found Katherine sitting alone on the sand, draped in a blue doublet. Her crew was nowhere to be seen and I half-wondered if they had mutinied. The possibility seemed plausible with the absence of her captain's hat, until I spotted it hanging from a tree branch in the distance. I stayed in the water a few moments, watching her in the pale moonlight as waves lapped up against my naked skin. Tears glistened in her eyes when she noticed me, though I could not tell if I was the cause.

When Katherine did not stand, or give me any indication that she was going to come toward me, I used my arms to pull myself forward onto the shore. I squinted a little at the tingle I felt as my scales began to disappear, turning my tail into legs. It was unfortunate that the only time I felt truly free was when I could lie naked in her presence. It was a false sense of freedom, for I knew deep down it would not last. Not just because she would die and I would continue in this purgatory on Earth, but because even as she survived, I could not be on land past dawn.

She smiled at me when I caught her eyes staring at my chest, sending a smirk to my lips. I pulled myself up and rolled onto my side, leaning on my right hand. I used my sand-freckled left one to trace a line down my body, trying to draw her gaze lower to remind her just how naked I was, but she reached out and grabbed my hand just as it reached my stomach.

"Not yet," she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her. Katherine pulled her kerchief from her head and rustled a hand through her short red locks. I could not tell if it was due to lice or uncertainty of her words.

Then she spoke again. "They know about Jack."

"Know what?" I asked, wanting to know more. As I pulled myself up to kneel in front of her, I looked at her curiously, trying to read her face. I could have simply listened to her thoughts, but she did not know that, and I respected her enough to allow a conversation.

"That she is not a man."

I frowned, and as the extent of this news overcame me, I felt my heart thumping loudly in my ears. They had both hidden their true identities from the pirates with which they sailed for years. If Jack had been found out, then did that mean my Kitty was also in danger?

"She goes by 'Jaclyn' now," Katherine explained, before turning her gaze toward the moon. "It is like I do not know who she is any longer."

"You mean she chose to reveal herself?"

Katherine gave me a solid stare. "It was what she desired."

I took Katherine's hand in mine, smiled at her, and asked in a sultry tone, "And what is it that you desire?" As I spoke, I moved her hand up my body.

As Kitty's thumb flicked over my nipple, a shot rang out. After realising that neither of us had been hit, we scrambled to our feet. She hid me directly behind her and scanned the brush. I could not tell from where the sound had come, nor see a soul.

"Who goes there?" Kitty called, throwing out a deeper voice.

There was no reply. I did not like not knowing what kind of danger awaited, so I tuned my senses and listened, trying to expose the attacker's thoughts.

Captain's with a whore. Whore be damned.

I cringed in disgust at the words, but at least the thoughts gave me a hint as to where he was hiding. Looking to the northeast, I saw the beginning of a mangrove forest.

"Over there," I pointed, and shut out any more of his thoughts. "It is the only place he could be."

Katherine leaned down to pick up her cutlass from the sand without taking her eyes off the mangroves. When she stood again, I followed closely behind her, for I did not know if my body could be killed again at the hand of a man. Even if I could not be killed, the idea of having a pistol ball pierce my flesh unnerved me.

When we were but a few yards away, I heard a rustling, and a darkly tanned man stepped out of the mangroves. He held a flintlock out, pointed directly at Katherine's heart.

"I can make this shot from here," the man said. His accent was French, though I could not tell if that was from where he hailed.

"Ye want to take on yer captain, Lachance?" Kitty asked, pulling a pistol from her belt and aiming it right back at him. "Ye know I be the better shooter."

I placed my hands on Kitty's shoulders, so I could look over her right one and get a better look at the man. Lachance lowered his weapon to his side, but Kitty did not give him the same courtesy.

I could tell from the tone of her voice that Kitty narrowed her eyes at him. "What do ye desire, Lachance?"

When the Frenchman bared his teeth in a nasty grin, a gold one glinted in the moonlight. Another tooth was clearly missing, despite the darkness, and I did not trust anything his face said.

Cap'n best share that succulent whore. T'as been weeks since he gave us that courtesy.

I winced at his thoughts, but did not dare speak a word of it to Kitty.

Finally, Lachance spoke. "I be betting Jack be none too happy to know you be lying with a whore..." he trailed off momentarily, wanting to lap up Kitty's reaction.

I felt a knot in my stomach on her behalf, for even as I did not care for Jack, I knew that news of us would devastate her, and in turn, my love. Katherine seemed to fare better than I, weathering his statement with contempt.

When Katherine did not respond, Lachance concluded, "I just be thinking, if you be willing to share, I keep yer secret."

He then looked directly at me and licked his lips, completely unprepared when Katherine shot him in the chest. Blood splattered and began to spill before he fell completely to the ground, eyes lifeless.

Though I had known Katherine to be a pirate for many years, this was the first time I had seen her enact such violence. Even with all the men I myself had lured into the sea, witnessing this act disturbed me, and I turned away.

Katherine did not notice when I began to walk toward the sea, for which I was glad. My mind was too busy flashing images of blood and horror at me, men being slashed with swords, and brains spattering out of skulls from pistol shots. It took me a while to realise these images came from Kitty's memories; other murders she had partaken in.

I was almost at the shoreline when Kitty grabbed my shoulder and shook the images from my mind. It was then that my senses were able to detect a rustling sound coming from the mangroves. Had there been another man there, who I had not noticed before?

A shadowy figure stepped out in the distance, and ducked down, clearly trying to avoid detection, despite his sheer height. He was walking away from us, and I wanted nothing more than to avoid witnessing a second murder that night, so I said nothing of it to Kitty.

Turtle did not witness the Captain murder Lachance. Turtle did not witness the Captain murder Lachance.

I amused myself that the African man thought about himself in the third person, but concluded he was no danger to us. If that ever changed, then I knew I could take action, and I did not need Katherine's help.

"You cannot survive this life much longer," I told her. If one man threatened her, then what would be next? He would surely not be the last.

"Jack needs me," she said. "If I go, who would protect her? You think if I left, she would be safe? It is because of me they do not rape her."

"Are you certain of this?" I asked. I worried more about her safety than that of Jack's.

She did not answer me, which in itself was all the answer I needed. I prodded her further.

"There are rumours," I said, "that the monarchy may be restored. You could have your king back."

Few knew that Katherine fled London in part to avoid Cromwell's reign, but I was one who did. I brought her news from England faster than any ship could, and I relished in having that responsibility in her life.

I could see her contemplating, and I so terribly wished to open her mind and know what she was thinking of it all, but could not bring myself to do so. Patience was what I needed. Patience, and hope, that in time she would leave Jack and return to England for me.

"Nay," she said, and pulled me away from the shoreline. "Not yet." She stroked my hair and looked me in the eyes. "I love you, Prue, but I love Jack, too."

It felt like fire had engulfed my heart, and I pushed her down into the sand. "You save me," I yelled. "But you save Jack more. You do not love me as much as you do her." I panted a little before leaving her with one final remark. "You only keep me around to help you rid yourself of pirates you despise."

I turned and ran immediately for the sea, not giving her the chance to say anything in return.

Diving into the water, I felt my scales returning, covering my legs. My fins swept me away to the depths of the sea.

We rarely fought, Katherine and I, but when we did, I remembered it. Every little detail, scraped into my head like regrets captured on shards of glass. Ever reminding me of the paths I should not have taken.

"I am sorry," Katherine whispered, but I did not return to her then. I felt like she had made her choice, and I wanted her to realise her mistake before I would ever return.

Jack had her when I was alive, and continued to have her in my death.

How I hated Jack.

The End.

The Ties That Bind

By

Nulli Para Ora

I'd like to say a special thank you to Ezra for your help with this story.

"Jessica, Nathan, thank you for being here today. Since this is our first meeting, why don't you tell me what brought you to my office?"

Jessica Lansing offered a smile as she avoided the eyes of the therapist. Her eyes were averted, but her nose sniffed out the unique scent of the owl shifter across from her. She clutched her purse in her lap, doing her best to keep her lunch down by focusing on squeezing the leather beneath her fingers.

She sat up straight in the center of the sofa cushion, never allowing her spine to rest on the back of the chair. This was a bad idea. What am I supposed to say now? The brief moments of silence felt like they dragged on for an eternity, her heart racing all the while. Is this all my fault?

Her husband, Nathan, sat next to her with a relaxed posture save for the incessant taps of his left foot and twiddling of his thumbs.

He just doesn't get it! "We're here because we're boring." Her stomach churned after she spoke the words. She cast a compulsive glance to the closed office door to see if anyone might have listened in. My perfect world, with the perfect white picket fence, the perfect guy, perfect cars, perfect lawn, and perfect roses isn't so perfect after all.

"We're not boring, you're just obsessed with what life is like in a magazine."

Nate's tone was annoyed. After rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms over his chest before he turned his full attention to the window next to his end of the paisley couch.

He's over it, I get it. How do I make him understand this just isn't enough?

"What's your definition of boring, Jessica?" The balding therapist sat expressionless in his leather chair, pushing his silver-framed glasses up the bridge of his bulbous nose while he waited.

Is he insinuating there's a problem, with me? She lowered a hand to tug on the skirt portion of her dress, feeling suddenly exposed. "It's just... Well, you see... Umm... It-It's always the same old thing. We've been married for five years, but it feels like fifty. We're young, we should be doing fun things, spontaneous things, things like—"

"Like planning a random trip to Switzerland for skiing." Nate didn't look at her when he spoke; instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the window.

"For the millionth time, it doesn't have to be Switzerland! Would a getaway be so bad?" Flares of pain arced over the top of Jessica's skull as the beginnings of a headache developed. Seeing Nate so frustrated hammered home an important point. This was definitely a bad idea. Her mother's warning came back to haunt her. "You're two very different shifters. You'll have to work hard to make this last.

As the therapist scribbled notes, Jessica couldn't resist trying to take a peek. Which one of us is he badmouthing? "What do the two of you do together normally?"

"She argues, I listen." Nate's back was rigid. His voice dripped with frustration.

In an instant, her skin felt two sizes too small and about twenty degrees hotter. Her every instinct compelled her to hide her face, to shift and claw a tree like the tiger she truly was, but she fought those urges in favor of getting the session over with quickly. Tiny beads of sweat formed, collecting in the places where her dress hugged close to her body. Deep breaths cycled through her chest while she pictured imagery meant to take her to a happy place. She needed to save face. Hawaii, Mexico, Puerto Rico... "Embarrassing me isn't part of therapy. And I don't argue, and you don't listen!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Lansing, let's just take a step back. What is it specifically that you want from Nathan?" The therapist's voice held a hint of warning, but he never elevated his tone as he looked back and forth between them.

I really don't know how to answer, but I'll be damned if I let either of them know that. The red and white, polka dotted fabric of her dress became her focus while she tried to think. She touched and studied the circles on the garment, gathering her thoughts and choosing her words. "I just want him to be more spontaneous. It'd be nice if he took charge more too."

As soon as she ended the sentence, her heart sank. When she realized what she'd done, she sat up straight again, fingers at the ready, pulling at her dress. I gave the safe answer, but what am I supposed to do? I can't tell him what I really want. Nate's as straight-laced as they come. He was captain of the debate team, Magna Cum Laude for crying out loud! He's one of the lead architects at his firm, Boring, Monotonous, and Yawn. I love him, I just want... more.

"Spontaneous? The moment I deviate from the invisible schedule in your head, you have a hissy fit. Every decision I make in that house needs a full-length discussion. Do you even hear yourself, Jess?" Nate turned in his seat to face her, his tone sharp while he shook his head. Well, at least he's looking at me now.

"That's not true! Your idea of spontaneous is to bring home Italian instead of Chinese on Fridays, and we're supposed to discuss the decisions in our house. We both have an equal say." At some point during her rebuttal, Jessica's hands ended up on her hips. She didn't need to see her reflection to know she was glaring at her husband. As his gaze locked onto hers, he was glaring too.

"I don't think we need to discuss which movie I plan to rent, or when my treadmill broke down, we needed to discuss which kind I was going to get. You don't even use the damned thing. Why do you need to have the final say?" Nate massaged his brows with his fingers before turning to give the therapist a look that screamed, "See what I have to deal with?"

"Because it's in my house! I have to look at it every day."

The therapist lifted his pen and interjected. "Mr. and Mrs. Lansing, if you could just--"

"It's in the garage! And the last time I checked, it's our house, not just yours. I pay the mortgage every month, but it's just your house. I pay the bills, but everything's about your stuff, and how you feel. Jesus, Jess! Are you just looking for shit to complain about?"

This isn't what I planned! The trembling of her lower lip was unexpected. The more she struggled to resist it, the worse it got. The sensation of white hot sewing needles stabbing the backs of her eyes was another sign of her fragile state. She was in trouble, and she knew it. "Damn it!"

"Mrs. Lansing, please try to calm down." The therapist's voice barely registered.

It was too late. She'd already covered her face with both hands, hoping her tears were hidden from view as they fell. "I'm done!" Her next inhale found her on her feet, running out of the office and down the hall as fast as she could.

"Jess, wait a minute!"

Nate's footsteps resonated behind her. She pressed the button for the elevator multiple times, holding the back of her hand against her nose in an effort to stem the onslaught of post nasal drip. The stupid car wasn't coming fast enough, so she ran toward the stairs. The sound of her kitten heels against the metal-lined, concrete steps seemed amplified, but not loud enough to drown out her sobs. It also wasn't loud enough to drown out Nate's oxfords as he gave chase. He's faster than I am, always has been. Damned treadmill.

"Jess, will you stop?" He intercepted her, grabbing her by the arms. A long sigh slipped through his lips as he changed his hold to a hug. "I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. I just don't know what's going on with you. You know I love you, right?"

She snuggled into him, allowing the familiar feeling of his arms around her to comfort her. The scent of his aftershave clung to his skin and cloyed with his natural aroma. His stubble prickled against the skin of her forehead as she nodded under his chin, but she didn't care. "I didn't mean to run out, I just—"

"Shhh."

She melted into him while he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. I'm not mad anymore, I'm just glad he's here. After several sniffles, she composed herself. Nate held her away from him to look her in the eye. They didn't speak in those moments; they simply stared, allowing their eyes to convey countless emotions.

She watched the man she'd fallen in love with years ago, tall, dark, and handsome, with his obsidian curls and hazel-flecked green eyes. "I love you too." The words slipped from her lips without effort. She meant every word. She loved him with all her heart. How else could a tiger and lion shifter end up together? When he pulled her close again, their lips touched. It was innocent at first, but then he placed another light kiss, then another, and another.

Her body flooded with warmth and left her light-headed. The instant haze of arousal engulfed her, thick and luscious. When he snaked an arm around her waist, she grabbed him by the collar, bringing him as close as she could while their tongues played. She didn't care where they were, she wanted him right then and there. "Nate..." She could barely breathe as his hands gripped the fabric of her dress, sending waves of tingles down her thighs.

She rocked her hips against him while her mind sent out a silent plea for him to lift her skirt and take her against the wall. Do it, Nate, fuck me like a whore! Her nerves tingled in anticipation. Her mind played out the scenario in vivid detail. Images of gripping Nate's bare ass, his pants and underwear around his ankles, while he took her hard and fast. Her inner walls contracted at the mere thought of it.

"Jess..." His voice was strained and roughened breathlessness. He eyed her with a hunger that made her legs feel like jelly.

"Yeah, baby?" She pulled at his belt, but he grabbed her wrist, halting her needy fingers.

"Let me get you home."

Five words. They seemed harmless enough, but those words were the equivalent of tossing her into the Arctic Ocean. If she was equipped with an on/off switch, Nate just flipped it to off with force. Of all the words in the English language, those are the ones you chose? Why not, "Down on your knees!" Or "Spread your legs for me"?

She hid her disappointment all the way home, watching the scenery go by without really seeing it. They got out of the car, and walked inside. As usual, he took her hand, led her upstairs, and they got undressed. As she lay naked in bed, she watched him crawl over her.

She stared at him, mesmerized by the muscles of his toned body as they rippled and flexed beneath his skin. I want him, I just want something different. After five years of marriage, Nate knew the combination to her safe of pleasurable bliss, and she couldn't help the mental play by play that accompanied his movements. A nibble on the neck here, a tug on the earlobe there, small circles with his fingers over my clit, and boom, I'm ready.

When his fingers slipped through her folds with ease, he pushed his thick cock into her with reverence, almost as if she was the Virgin Mary, before settling into a familiar rhythm as he made love to her. His stamina was perfect. As usual.

Yet, as their breaths became shallow, she found her thoughts elsewhere. I don't want sweet and tender, damn it! I want him to flip me onto my stomach and pull my hair while he slams into me. I want to feel him pound my body like he's drilling for oil. I want to feel his hand around my throat as he forces my legs into new angles. I want him to fuck me across the bed and then take me again on the floor. I want rug burn! I want him to bite me and pinch my nipples. I want... "Oh God! I'm coming, Nate!"

He didn't come right away, but instead, rocked through her orgasm. She could tell he was close. She opened her eyes into slits to watch his face turn red as he clenched his teeth. Large, warm hands gripped her hips tight. She felt a flicker of pleasure, but he relaxed his grip, extinguishing the flame.

"I'm gonna come!"

I know. Those were the words she wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, she moaned and made herself tremble as if she still felt pleasure. Nate picked up his pace in response. Her body stretched around him as his turgid shaft became even larger before he spilled his load. She'd gotten the timing down over the years, and she decreased the frequency of her moans in time with him getting his breathing under control. We both came, but only one of us is satisfied.

****

"Hello, Jessica, this is Bob Watson. I wanted to follow up with you two to see how things were going. My secretary informed me you've canceled your remaining therapy sessions. I do think the two of you can still benefit from more time to–"

Jessica had never been happier about the deletion of a voice mail. She shook her head as she pressed the number seven on her cell phone with more force than usual while she tromped down the sidewalk. Couple's therapy, not one of my best ideas, but I had good intentions. A quick glance at the phone's screen gave her the time, before she dropped the device into her purse. Her gaze roamed over the sign above a restaurant before she walked inside. As she hung the strap of her hand bag on the back of her chair, she heard the voice of her lunch date before she actually saw her.

"No, that's not what I put in the notes, run the batch again. I know, but if it's contaminated, we have to start over, you know that." Her best friend and coworker, Taryn flashed an unapologetic look as she took her seat, continuing the phone conversation while rolling her eyes.

Jessica nodded and lifted a hand to let Taryn know she didn't mind. The one-sided conversation she heard was familiar. In fact, she'd spoken similar words herself, at least once a day.

"Sorry about that." Taryn looked as though she wanted to toss her phone in the trash, but elected to give it a brutal shove into her purse. She sat back in her seat, sighing and shaking her head, causing the shiny, ebony tresses of her bob to sway.

"The same thing is going on in my department. I don't think Salumis realized they needed to know a few things about chemistry when they bought Benzadyne." Jessica took a sip of her water, mentally chiding herself for focusing on work.

"Amen to that. They just don't get it, but they don't want to listen to the actual chemists about anything." Taryn started out with the menu in her hands, but by the time she finished her statement, she'd dropped it on the table and lifted her arms in an "I give up" gesture.

Jessica held up her glass in support; it contained water, but the meaning of the gesture was still the same.

"Anyway, how are things? I haven't heard from you in a couple days." Taryn's question all but sucked the life from the room.

Jessica turned her glass in circles on the table cloth, watching the condensation collect into drops on the sides. She avoided Taryn's eyes as she lowered her head and pressed her chin to her chest. "Everything's–"

"Don't even think of lying to me, Jess."

It never fails. Taryn has always had this way of getting to me, and I'm defenseless.

Her friend continued. "Are you and Nate still having problems? I thought you were going to therapy."

Jessica leaned forward over the table with a wide-eyed stare. A sensation of invisible wafts of steam snaked random paths over her features in the wake of her embarrassment. "Why not put it in the Herald? Or better yet, the Post's online, take an ad out!" She didn't mean to speak through her teeth, but she couldn't help it. She scanned the crowd to see who was watching, or if anyone was discussing her not so private life in hushed tones. Everyone seems oblivious, but I know the truth. They're all judging me.

"Will you take a chill pill? I didn't shout it through a megaphone. Not even shifters would have heard me."

Jess found herself fingering the collar of her blouse as she tried to think about what she wanted to say. The idea of anyone knowing about her issues made her lungs seize, but Taryn wasn't just anyone. They were best friends. Jessica's mind traveled back to the moment Taryn picked up on her discord. Even though Jess loathed speaking the words that day, she explained things were just a little too cliché between her and Nate. Sharing it made her feel awful, but at the same time, she felt like a tiny weight had been lifted. "Sorry, I just–"

"Don't want anyone to know. I get it, and I'm not putting your business on front street. We're at a corner table during the end of most peoples' lunch hour. No one's listening to us." Taryn arched an eyebrow as she waved a hand in the direction of the closest patrons five tables away.

A slow exhale passed through Jessica's lips, while she tried to force her mind to think rational thoughts. She's right, at least I hope she is, but I don't trust it. Her gaze continued to move over the sparse crowd as she gripped the seat beneath her, lifting it just off the floor before scooting closer to her friend. She came to a stop next to Taryn's chair, and stared at the other tables before she spoke in a whisper. "Therapy didn't go so well."

"What happened?"

"Ladies, have you decided on your selections for today?" The waiter seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Blood surged into Jessica's face and her body tensed. She whipped her head around to regard the waiter and took a sniff. Was he listening? She would have asked the question out loud if her heart hadn't been pounding as if it wanted to escape her ribcage. The sound of Taryn's voice when she ordered a Cobb salad helped Jess to hold her tongue. She watched the waiter as he refilled her glass with more ice water, her fear morphing into irritation at the potential snoop. Rubbing her forehead, she tried to relax.

"And for you, Ms.?"

At least he's polite, and the smile on his face is endearing for a dirty rotten eavesdropper. "I'll have the Caesar tortellini salad." The waiter offered a wider smile before he turned and walked away. She rolled her eyes at his retreating back and leaned in close to Taryn again. "I don't know, I was just so frustrated, and when he asked me what I want from Nate, I told him I wanted him to be more spontaneous." The sharp intake of air through Taryn's lips caught her off guard, but the next sound from her friend sent sparks of anger through her. She's laughing at me. It wasn't the warm, supportive gesture she'd envisioned, and as she watched her friend shake through a full on belly laugh, she folded her arms over her chest. "Damn it, Taryn!"

"I'm sorry, Jess, but girl, you need to stop beating around the bush!" Taryn slapped her hand on the table, threw her head back, and laughed deeply.

Jessica pressed her lips together before she sucked her teeth. "It's not funny!"

"I know, I know. Just give me a minute."

She's actually dabbing tears from her eyes, all at my expense. Jessica checked the crowd again. Thankfully, no one was looking at their table.

A tap on the shoulder from Taryn pulled Jess' eyes back to her alleged best friend. She feigned disinterest when the traitor dared to speak. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Keep what up?" Why does everyone insist on asking me questions I'm not ready to answer?

"Jess..."

"What?" Jessica reached out and took a sip from Taryn's water. When she was done, she placed the glass out of her reach. Serves her right!

"Nate loves you. Just be honest with him and tell him what you want."

"That's easy for you to say. You're not married to Mr. Perfectly Normal."

"I'm not married to Mr. Perfectly anything." Taryn leaned over and pulled her glass back. "He can't read your mind, you know. You're making a lot of assumptions."

"He's my husband, I know everything about him, and this just isn't him. He's not like that." Paranoia wrapped its familiar deranged claws around Jess' throat. She reached for her purse to check her phone, unable to shake the feeling someone might be listening in via an inadvertent pocketbook dial.

"You're his wife, and he clearly doesn't know everything about you, Mrs. Lansing."

Oh, goddamn you Taryn and your logic! "That's different."

"How?"

Look at her sitting there all smug with that smirk. There's an "I told you so" somewhere in there, but I won't give her the satisfaction. "I don't want him thinking I'm some kind of depraved freak. I'm his wife—he's supposed to be proud to have me, not wondering if I'm some kind of deviant."

Taryn folded her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. "You can be freaks together. Instead, you let him think he's doing everything right while you're not happy."

"But–"

"And you keep hiding what you really want, so you snap at him."

"Taryn.. It's not that simple, I—"

"And you've allowed this to get worse over the years to the point where he seems to do everything right, but it gets on your nerves."

She's got one more time to interrupt me before I throw an ice cube at her. "I don't snap at him! Stop making it look like this is all my fault."

"Jess, you snap at him, let's be real. It's what you do when you hold stuff in. It's how you've always been. That's number one. Number two is—"

Jessica wanted to look away, but when she turned her head, reached out, cupped her cheek, and turned her right back.

"Number two: Nate isn't doing anything wrong on purpose. Your silence is the problem, not his inability to do exactly what you want out of the blue. You're trying to initiate a reaction without a catalyst."

When Taryn released her face, Jessica chewed the side of her lower lip. Their waiter returned with their meals, but her desire to eat had been extinguished by the acrid bile of guilt. "This isn't my fault, Taryn."

"You're not giving him a chance, all because you have issues with your own needs." Taryn didn't start eating right away, and Jessica began to wonder if she'd lost her appetite too. "Talk to your husband. He loves you and he needs you to be honest with him. Stop waiting for him to guess."

****

Jessica moved through the remainder of her work day while trying her best to act natural. She tried to stay calm on the outside, but on the inside, a storm raged.

Could she really tell Nate what she wanted? Would she be able to utter the words that might shatter her pristine image?

The conversation with Taryn had left her feeling as if she had a large neon sign hanging above her head with the word failure glowing in bright blue light. The therapist all but blamed her. Even her best friend said she was at fault.

She lifted her gaze to her colleague across the lab bench. Was he watching her? Judging her? Could he tell she was screwing up her marriage?

The older man peered over his goggles at her and leaned forward. "Can I borrow some of your opposite solution?"

"Opposite solution?" Jessica frowned until her mind processed his words. She'd expected a scathing remark. Surely he could see her turmoil. Couldn't he? Or maybe all he wants is opposite solution. She passed the bottle to him and scribbled down a few notes, nodding when he thanked her.

She glanced at him from time to time, but he seemed engrossed in his work.

By the time the work day was over, Jessica was no closer to a solution to her problem. She drove home with Taryn's words in her ears. "Stop waiting for him to guess."

When she pulled into the garage, Nate's car was already parked. He's home early. She moved into the kitchen and followed her husband's scent into the living room. He was still dressed for work, in a suit and tie, reclining on the couch, and watching TV. "Hey."

He looked up and smiled. "Hey. How was your day?"

"You know, the usual."

Nate stood and crossed over to her before pulling her close. "I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight if you're up for it." A small kiss on the tip of her nose punctuated his words. The contact was sweet, and for the moment, part of the problem.

"I don't want to go anywhere." She let out a sigh and stepped out of his arms. "I'm going to change and see what's in the fridge." She started to walk around him, but he took hold of wrist.

"What's going on, Jess? Talk to me." Nate lowered his head and tried to meet her gaze, but she avoided looking him in the eye.

"I just don't feel like going out. What's the big deal?"

A low rumble resounded in Nate's chest and his nostrils flared. "The big deal is this attitude you've been carrying around. You're hot and cold without rhyme or reason. I need the truth here. Are you seeing someone else?"

Jessica's blood chilled and her body went rigid. A lump formed in her throat and threatened to cut off her air supply. "Someone else? There isn't anyone else."

"It's like you're so far away from me. I don't know what to do anymore." He released her wrist and paced a circuit in front of her. "I'm your husband and your friend. I love you, but something's happened and you won't let me in."

An ocean of regret swelled within Jessica as her husband's words sank in. All this time, I've been thinking about what I'm missing. He's missing me.

He was also right. He was her friend, and he deserved to have one in her. She swallowed down her rising panic, stepped in front of Nate, and took his hands in hers. "I'm sorry. I know I've been hard to read lately." She paused and attempted to steal herself for what she had to do. Tell him. You can't let him think there's someone else. "When you look at me, what do you see?"

He didn't hesitate. "The most beautiful woman in the world." A large smile spread his lips before he continued. "My wife, my friend, my lover, and my future." The words tumbled out of him as if he quoted them every night before bed. Why was it so easy for him to be completely open?

She could be truthful to Taryn, but not to the man who felt so deeply about her? Time to change that. "When we went to that therapist and he asked me what I wanted, I lied. I said I wanted you to be more spontaneous. What I really meant was--" Oh God, I really have to say it, don't I?

Small wrinkles formed at the corners of Nate's eyes as a look of concern took over his face. "What did you really mean?"

"I want us to be more adventurous in ... in the bedroom." She wanted to tear her gaze from his, but she couldn't look away.

"Adventurous how?" He arched a dark eyebrow, but there was no judgment in his voice. If she had to classify the elevation in his tone, she'd call it curious.

Curious is good, right? "Well. Um. Could we mix things up a little? Maybe try it a little rough sometimes?" Never had she felt so exposed. A wave of heat washed down her body as she stood with him. Was it embarrassment? Shame? Don't hide your face, Jess. Just breathe.

A rumble resounded in Nate's chest and he narrowed his eyes. "I see." His voice deepened to a sound that was something new. Threatening. "You want me to hunt you, my little tigress."

Jessica's eyes widened and she took a step back. "Who the hell are you and where is my husband?" She'd never seen this side of him. So raw, so primal.

"You should have told me. I've been holding back all this time because I thought you wanted something else." He took a step forward. "But now I know." Another step. "We both want the same thing." Another. "And I don't have to hold back anymore."

"Hold back?"

Nate's eyes flashed golden, highlighting the lion within. He loosened his tie, removed his jacket, and threw it on the floor. "Run." His voice deepened even further in a mixture of a roar and a growl.

A dark look settled over Nate's features, but it didn't instill fear. Quite the opposite. He turned her on like never before. "Holy shit!" Jess kicked off her shoes and ran toward the stairs. She managed to make it to the third step before an arm around her waist stopped her progress. Damned treadmill! The man has got to be part cheetah.

She didn't get the chance to turn around. Nate yanked her skirt up with one hand while leaning his body over her back, causing her knees to rest on one step while her hands settled on another.

Her heart raced. Electric tingles danced over her skin. Her clit pulsed. Her entire body was alive with sensation. He hadn't really touched her and she was already wet for him.

He slipped a warm hand into her panties and ran his fingers down her slit. His breaths blew hot on the back of her neck, adding to the deliciousness of the experience. Tantalizing, delectable heat surged through her, inflaming every inch of her skin. When had she ever felt so much want?

"Do you know what we're going to do, Jess?" He circled her opening with one finger before giving one of her labia a pinch.

She didn't care what they were going to do as long as he kept going. "No." The word left her lips on a hiss, snaking its way between her clenched teeth as she rocked her hips against his hand. Every stroke of his fingers left phantom paths of pleasure in their wake, almost sending her into sensory overload.

"We're going to fuck." His voice rattled through her. He enunciated each word, rubbing her clit between his fingers when he spoke the last consonant. "I won't stop until you lose control of that tiger inside you. Then we'll fuck again." With those sentences spoken, he gave her underwear a savage pull to the side and buried his cock deep inside her. His firm grip held her in place while he pounded into her, forcing the tops of her knees forward into the riser.

He's giving me... Rug burn! "Yes!"

The soft leather of his belt brushed against the outside of her thigh while the buckle beat out a soft clang with every advance.

Nate had never been this forceful. Never had he held her so tight. They'd never—

"Fuck!" Her thoughts disintegrated when he sank his teeth into her shoulder. He didn't slow his thrusts—if anything, he added more power as he grunted and growled into her skin.

His bite throbbed and warmed, and he swiped and swirled his tongue in the depressions he'd left. He licked a path from her shoulder, up her neck, and to her ear, taking the shell in his teeth. "Give me what's mine, tigress." The arm around her waist loosened before he reached into her shirt and cupped a breast.

He teased the nipple through the thin material of her bra until it stiffened. Searching fingers pushed under the demi cup and gripped the stiff bud, holding on with pressure while he picked up his pace.

Jessica's knees burned. Her growls and swears continued until she grew hoarse, her nipple ached, and still he didn't let up. Her world dissolved into a pool of pleasure mixed with just the right amount of torment and tension.

Nate switched to her opposite ear and whispered the words that would push her to the edge. "Dirty little tiger. You didn't want anyone to know."

Her eyes screwed shut, her inner walls gripped and released erratically around his pumping shaft. She arched her back, and the muscles of her arms and legs stiffened. A long keening cry escaped her lips. She would have collapsed onto the stairs if Nate hadn't held her up.

He supported her as he drove into her, sending her into another climax a few minutes later before he erupted inside her.

He carried her to their bed, and not long after, burrowed into her again, and again, until she shifted into her tiger. He lay beside her, stroking her fur and smiling down at her. He let a bit of his lion come forward. His canines elongated and his eyes turned gold.

He professed his love and his lust for her, and promised their sex lives would never be boring again. When she shifted back into her human form, they showered together, and when he took her against the wall under the spray, he made her promise something too.

"No more guessing games."

Jessica nodded and smiled. Why the hell did I wait so long? Taryn is never going to let me hear the end of this!

The End

www.nulliparaora.com

Against the Tide

By

Yuri Bellamy

Asa bit her lip and looked out over the vast fields of the in-between place, the realm between earth and hell. Where was Sven? Her long-time friend-turned-lover had said he'd be here by night fall, but he wasn't yet.

Maybe he's not coming.

She ignored her pessimistic inner voice. Of course he was coming. She and Sven had been meeting here for years to make love and talk on the always-fresh grass. Besides, she doubted she was the only one who wanted to have his penis inside her a final time before tomorrow, her twenty-fifth birthday and the first full day of her heat, a period of time when she'd be capable of reproduction. After that, she had no idea when she might see Sven again, and she knew she'd never be able to touch him. As a breeder, or a female angel specially selected at an early age to breed with angelic society's most elite males, she became the common-law mate of the angel she spent her first heat with. And since Sven was no elite, he could never become her common-law mate.

Only a stranger could, and the one thing she knew about said stranger was that he'd pick her up tomorrow at a certain time and place—dawn, at the group home where she lived in heaven.

She didn't even know the bastard's name.

Asa rubbed her hands over her arms and sat down, her naked thighs depressing the grass. Like all angels, she spent her entire life nude and was quite unselfconscious about her body. In hell, where angels like Sven served as guides to the newly deceased humans most deserving of angelic guidance in the afterlife, humans and demons supposedly wore ridiculous coverings called clothes, but that wasn't the case here. Here and in heaven, a bare body was a natural, beauteous thing.

Not that Asa had ever been to hell. Breeders—or as she sometimes called them on her more bitter days, broodmares—weren't taught how to descend any further down than the in-between place. They had no need to, since they'd never act as guides like the majority of angels did.

"Asa."

Her eyes shot open. She must have dozed off, because the reddish purple moon in the in-between place seemed much higher than it had been. Sven stood looking down at her with his massive white wings silhouetted against the night sky and a broad smile on his lips. His normally silver irises had taken on a reddish purple cast from the moon, and his dark tan flesh appeared to glow due to the same effect. His pupils dilated as he regarded her.

A slow, delicious shiver worked its way down her body as she examined his lean (and in her opinion, elegant) face before moving her gaze lower, toward the trail of thick black hair leading to his pleasingly large cock. Evidently, her heat had begun earlier than expected, for her skin felt almost uncomfortably hot despite the lukewarm air, and the flesh between her legs throbbed. Her wings tingled pleasantly from her enhanced arousal as Sven stooped to run a finger up and down her nose.

She couldn't remember when their feelings for each other had turned sexual, but it must have been around the time they were twenty, when they'd reached the age of angelic sexual maturity. They'd started out touching each other's wings more than ever before, testing limits. Eventually the touching turned to frottage, most often with Asa rubbing her vulva on Sven's feathers and the hard bones supporting them, and finally, penetration.

She was fairly sure she'd fallen in love with him then, when he'd slid into her so slowly and carefully that she'd screamed at him to just shove it in already. The moment had been anything but romantic, but looking back on it now, she knew no stranger would ever have been so gentle with her, so concerned about causing her pain.

Only him.

"May I?" He whispered, trailing his finger down to her lips and tracing them until she had to stop him because it tickled so much. "It's been too long since I touched you."

She rubbed the now-itchy skin around her mouth and made a face at him, as she'd done when they were youths. "It's been a week."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "Still too long." He knelt between her legs and leaned forward to kiss her hard, hard enough to make her gasp and beat her wings against the grass in excitement. When their mouths separated, she raised a leg and hooked it over his hip, exposing her labia in a way she found exciting. Her vagina tightened, and she shuddered in anticipation of taking him. She was about to press closer when she remembered her heat.

She didn't mind the prospect of getting pregnant by him—on the contrary, she'd invited him here hoping it might happen if she became fertile soon enough—but he deserved the chance to refuse. If she didn't give him that, she reasoned, she'd be no better than an elite male.

She pulled away and sat up, panting. She looked at Sven, and found him still kneeling. His expression was intense, both aroused and concerned.

"Are you all right, Asa?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes. They'd started stinging mysteriously after she'd noticed how concerned he looked—as if worried she was hurt somewhere—and she couldn't help but blame her hormones. Apparently her heat couldn't decide if it wanted her teary-eyed or riding Sven until both of them were exhausted or dead. "I'm fine, it's just... My heat started, Sven. I wanted you to know before we did anything, but I would like to lie with you tonight. Will you still have me?"

She watched him closely as she spoke. His response would mean more than he knew, if he answered in the affirmative. She might not be able to control her future in angelic society, but she could sure as hell control who fathered her child—or at least try. She was fully aware the odds of becoming pregnant were high but not perfect once his semen was in her.

Relief flooded her when Sven's eyes flashed bright amber, the color of an angel experiencing great affection for another. His face broke into a wide smile. "Fuck, sweetheart,"—she'd learned some time ago fuck was a word he'd picked up from guiding humans in hell—"Of course I will. I'll play with your wings and clitoris until you come, or I can lick you. We don't have to use my cock."

Wait, what? She hastened to correct him. "No, I do want to use your cock—and, um, I need you to use it, actually. If I have to get pregnant during this heat—and we both know custom dictates I must—I want the offspring to be yours."

Understanding seemed to enter Sven's eyes, followed by a look of the purest joy. He moved to sit beside her and haul her onto his lap, arranging her so her back was to his front and her ass was nearly on his cock. Her folded wings got caught between them, preventing full body contact, but the delicious sensation of his naked thighs cushioning her butt more than made up for it. He wrapped a firm arm around her ribcage and kissed her ear, then ran his teeth over the edge. She shuddered, and he did it again. Then he spoke. "I would be honored to put a child in your belly, but I don't want to endanger you in any way. What if the child looks like me? Your elite male could later suspect it's not his."

And just like that, her arousal was kicked in its figurative balls. She sighed and half-turned to look at him. Her wings, as well as the arm wrapped around her ribcage, made this difficult, but she managed to catch a glimpse of his troubled eyes and frown. "I thought of that, but you and I have similar coloring and features. If the baby comes out looking like you, it will also look like me."

I hope. There were some key differences between her and Sven's looks, such as the fact his skin was a slightly darker shade of beige, but the physical traits they shared were numerous. If they hadn't been, she never would have considered breeding with him—above all things, she didn't want to unnecessarily endanger her future offspring.

Sven blew out his breath and shifted under her. "That may be true, but there is still so much risk, Asa. If your future mate somehow found out you bred with another male before him—"

"He won't find out." She gave the thick arm he'd wrapped beneath her breasts a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me on this, Sven. I'm going to be careful."

He snorted and tweaked her nipple with his free hand before using his thumb to stroke her areola and bud, rubbing away the hurt. "I'm not worried about you being careful, sweetheart—I know you will. I'm worried about the baby not looking enough like the ass who's supposed to be the father, but I can tell your mind is made up. Still, I can't see past the risk to you and the child." He lifted her off his lap before she could protest and set her on the grass. He straightened, and as he did so, his face was full of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Asa. I won't make a child with you tonight."

His words hit her like a blow to the gut and she jumped to her feet as a great wave of frustration rolled through her. Hadn't he always encouraged her to make her own choices in the way he'd seen demons and humans doing in hell? Hadn't he always said angelic society was unjust to its women by forcing a small number of them to breed with the most elite males?

How will I remember him now, without his child by my side?

"Asa."

Her gaze snapped to his. He stood a pace away from her, with his wings tightly folded behind his broad shoulders. He stepped toward her and took her face in his hands. "There is another option. A drastic option."

"What do you mean?" She shoved his hands away and began to pace. Tears of anger sprang to her eyes, and no matter how hard she blinked, she couldn't stop them from spilling down her cheeks. "You've already refused to go along with my plan. What other option could there be?"

He grasped her arm, his grip just firm enough to halt her pacing. "We run away together. I can take you to hell right now, or to an area of the in-between place only guides can get to. It's the best option there is if you don't want to breed with some brute of an elite male tomorrow."

Asa was stunned. Even in her wildest dreams she'd never considered running away, and for one very good reason: Breeders and guides who deserted their duties lost the ability to reincarnate into a demon or human at age one hundred, an outcome toted as the reward angels received for a lifetime of serving their society. She'd always envied humans and demons, believing their lifetimes to present more possibilities than an angel's ever could, and at times the idea of one day starting over as a different, potentially freer life form had been the only thing that had kept her going.

Yet, being with Sven seemed far more important now than something that might or might not happen in seventy-five years. If they could pull this off, they could be together for many more years than they might otherwise be.

If they could pull this off.

She wiped her eyes and touched the hand Sven had placed on her arm. "I'd love to run away with you, but what will happen if we're caught? Do you know?" She wasn't even sure who would be doing the catching in such an instance, but she had to ask. Executions could and did happen in heaven in very rare instances, and Judgment, the ruler of all angels, was rumored to be very unpredictable. There was no telling what he might do to a pair of deserters.

Sven kissed the top of her head. "I'll be brought before Judgment by a supervisor of guides. He'll do as he sees fit to me. You'll probably be forcibly delivered to whatever elite male you're supposed to be meeting tomorrow. But I don't want you to worry about that. If you run away with me, I'll teach you how to navigate hell as well as any other skills I think you might need. That will ensure you're able to go on the run if I'm ever tracked down by a supervisor."

God, she didn't like the sound of that. There was so much she didn't know about hell, so many variables she couldn't account for. She needed time to think about it all, time they didn't have.

She chewed her lower lip as she peered at him. "Do you think deserting with a breeder in tow is an offense you could be executed for? No matter what, I don't want to risk your life."

"I can't lie to you, sweetheart," he said after many seconds. "If I'm caught, I fully expect to be killed. The few guides I've heard of who deserted and were apprehended for it were never seen again, and I can only assume they're dead. I don't care, though. I'm willing to live with the risk of being executed if it means saving you from a fate you don't want."

His words repeated in her head several times, and each time scared her more than the last. He was willing to die for her, but what he didn't seem to realize was that she could never live knowing she'd caused his death, whether indirectly or otherwise.

A lump of emotion formed in her throat, and her eyes threatened to overflow again as she choked back a sob. She wanted the future he'd proposed so badly—a future where they could be together and maybe even living happily ever after in hell. But realistically, she knew their chances of obtaining that happy ending were slim to none. It seemed more likely they'd always be looking over their shoulders, wondering when and if they might be caught. And if they were, Sven might very well pay for their desertion with his life.

For her. Because of her.

She couldn't let him do it, not and still consider herself an ethical angel. She had to nip his idea of running away in the bud while she could and keep him safe ... even if it meant doing her duty as a breeder tomorrow and never seeing him again.

Sven tried to pull her against him and stroke her wings and lower back as she continued to sob, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. Tears splashed her lips as she regarded him through blurred vision. "I'm f-f-fine."

He snorted, and gently wiped her cheekbones clear of tears with his fingertips. "You sound about as fine as most of the humans I guide when I tell them they're in hell. Talk to me, sweet pea. Why did you start crying again?"

Because we should always be together and we won't be. She took a couple of deep breaths before meeting his eyes. Thankfully, her tears had stopped for the moment. "I can't run away with you. I want to, but I can't."

His thick black brows drew together. "Why? I promise you, I'll do my damnedest to ensure we're not caught. It's possible the guides who were tracked down and apprehended for deserting their duties told the wrong people where they were going and got turned over to their supervisors, or tried to maintain contact with someone still in heaven when they shouldn't have. I won't make the same mistake. You and I will simply leave with no one the wiser."

She shook her head. "I don't want to go, Sven." Liar. "I won't take the risk of you getting executed, especially when I know so little about how easy or how difficult it is for us to be tracked down. I'd rather sleep soundly at night knowing I didn't play any part in getting you killed—even if I'm sleeping in another male's bed—than go through with this knowing you might be killed one day for helping me run away from my problems. I'm sorry."

Her apology seemed terribly inadequate somehow, like a 'thank you' gift hastily given after an incredibly meaningful gift has been received. I'm sorry. Those words couldn't begin to describe what she was feeling, but she still believed she was doing the right thing—and the least selfish thing—by declining his offer.

Sven cursed as she'd never heard him curse before and grabbed her shoulders. His features were twisted into a rictus of frustration and fear, and she could swear his skin was paler now. "Don't say that, sweetheart. Don't even think that. There's no need to be a martyr. I understood exactly what I was signing up for when I suggested running away."

"I know you did." She shoved at his hands until he let go of her. Then she stepped back, shaking from head to wing. "Believe me, I do. But I can't let you play the martyr either. You're not just my best friend and the love of my life, but my one true mate—and a girl's got to protect her mate no matter how stubborn he is." She reached up and stroked his jaw with trembling fingers. "Goodbye, Sven. I hope you'll forgive me one day."

His silver eyes widened, and he must have realized what she was about to do because he stepped forward as if to take hold of her again. Smart male—she couldn't teleport elsewhere without taking him with her if they were touching. She'd anticipated his move. Her fingers were off his skin and she was out of reach in seconds, dancing backwards before he could grab her. The last thing she saw in the in-between place was Sven lunging toward her, his hand outstretched and his mouth open as he yelled, "No!" Then she was inside her group home in heaven, and he was gone.

****

"No!

Sven roared in rage as Asa disappeared, and for more than one reason. He knew where she'd gone and he couldn't follow her. Judgment himself had decreed no male of lesser status could teleport into or near the group homes used to house breeders.

That didn't stop Sven from trying, though. Trying and failing to materialize there until he was so mad and afraid for Asa he could hardly think.

They'd been so close to running away together, or so he'd thought. A part of him was proud she'd stood her ground and made the toughest choice she'd probably ever have to make, but the rest of him just wanted her to come back. She was more important to him than life itself, and he would have endured the most extreme torture to experience a few more years with her at his side.

Now he'd never get the chance.

He stayed in the in-between place all night, hoping she'd change her mind and return before he was scheduled to resume his guiding duties at dawn.

She never did.

****

Asa lay in bed in the group home with her wings wrapped around herself, staring at the ceiling without truly focusing on it. She felt terrible for leaving Sven in the way she had, and she struggled for hours with the urge to teleport back to where she'd left him. Even so, she was sure she'd made the right decision. She'd prevented him from being eventually—or perhaps not so eventually—prosecuted for helping her, and when the pain in her heart faded, she'd be glad she had.

Right?

The sound of someone pounding on the door to her small bedroom jerked her out of her thoughts. She uncurled her wings from around her body and sat up. "Yes?"

The manager of her group home, Yves, called through the door in her perky little voice. "It's almost dawn, girl! I want you in the sitting room as soon as possible."

Frick, or as Sven would say, fuck. She must have lain in her bed thinking about him longer than she'd realized. "All right." Asa's voice quaked as she spoke, but if her manager noticed, she didn't comment on it. Instead, the little female opened the door and walked right in.

"You don't look your best." The words were phrased as an admonishment, not a statement of concern. Yves marched over to where she sat on the bed and hauled her off it, then immediately started finger-combing Asa's hair with quick, almost rough movements. "Of course, you aren't blonde either, but we can only have so many things in life, can't we?"

A spark of interest kindled in Asa's mind as she endured Yves' attack on her hair. "Does my new mate dislike black hair?" She tried not to sound too hopeful as she said this, but she was. If she could turn her suitor off with her looks, maybe he'd refuse to breed with her and move on to some other female. She assumed she'd still have to breed once a second suitor was arranged for her, but if nothing else, it would give her more time to mentally prepare herself for the experience.

"I don't know what he likes," said Yves, "but you'd be prettier as a blonde." She withdrew her long fingers from Asa's hair and frowned at her. "Wipe your eyes, and try not to cry in his presence—unless he asks you to. Then you can cry all you want."

She didn't even want to think about what she'd do if he was the type of male who'd ask her to cry, but she sure as hell didn't plan on going out of her way to please him. Nonetheless, she did wipe her eyes, mostly to prevent Yves from continuing to nag her about it. For whatever reason, her manager was being meaner than usual this morning, and Asa didn't want to stay in the same room as the other female a second longer than she had to. "Okay. Is he in the sitting room now?"

Yves pushed her toward the door and into a hallway leading to the sitting room. "Yes, and he's very handsome. You'll make beautiful babies together."

"Great." Now leave me alone and I'll go meet him myself.

But her manager didn't leave her alone. Asa found herself being escorted into the sitting room, a spacious area containing red loveseats pushed against all of the walls and a deep pink carpet. A large male angel sat opposite the door when Asa and Yves entered, but quickly stood to bow. Like all elites, he was stunningly handsome, with curly blonde hair falling to his shoulders and just the right amount of hair on his massive chest, but he wasn't Sven.

The male angel moved forward to take her hand and kiss it. He must have noticed her slight flinch, because his mouth didn't linger. He raised his gaze to hers and smiled. "You are radiant. What's your name, sweet one?"

"Her name is Asa." Yves gripped Asa's shoulder hard enough to hurt. "And she seems to have a case of nerves. I recommend keeping a hold on this one to ensure she doesn't try to teleport away."

As Asa turned to glare at her manager, the male angel surprised her by saying, "I don't think that's necessary." He gently squeezed the hand he'd kissed and looked her in the eyes when she faced him again. "Do you?"

His question caught her off-guard. She hadn't expected him to ask her opinion, let alone appear to give a damn about it. "No. I'm not going to run." She pried her manager's hand off her shoulder without looking at the other female and continued to address the elite. "I'd like to leave as soon as possible, please. I assume you're taking me to your home."

Getting away from Yves had become her first priority in the last minute or two, rather than stalling for time. She could always stall later, if he continued to be a gentleman at that point. She prayed he would.

"Yes, I am." He glanced at Yves before looking back at Asa. "Thank you for your ... err, assistance in handing her over. We're leaving now."

Yves nodded, blonde curls bouncing around her delicately built face. "Take good care of her—and don't let her run."

Asa stiffened, mentally gearing herself up to give her manager a piece of her mind now that she'd never see Yves again, but the male angel distracted her by touching her arm. When she looked at him, he teleported the two of them into a short but incredibly wide corridor lined in gold wallpaper. The lighting was so bright she had to blink a few times before she could focus on his face without her eyes watering. "Is this your home?"

"Yes. It's the entryway of the palace I share with Judgment as his live-in companion and protector. I'm sorry it's so bright—he likes it this way, though I couldn't tell you why."

That piqued her curiosity—the first thing he'd said, not the latter. "You live with Judgment? What's he like?"

He hesitated. "He's ... eccentric, is all I can say. You may run into him from time to time while living here. He can assume any form, but often appears as a dog. He likes dogs."

Asa didn't know what a dog was, but she assumed it was something from hell or earth. "Okay. Will he be bothered by interacting with me? I mean, does he dislike dealing with lesser angels?"

"No. Judgment doesn't care what you are." He led her into a large room at the end of the entryway. The room spanned two stories and contained several doors on the ground floor as well as a huge staircase made entirely out of white stone. He gestured at the staircase. "This leads to the bedrooms here. I'll show you to yours now, if you like. We can get acquainted there."

She guessed "acquainted" meant "having intercourse at some point." Her wings quivered at the idea, but not in a good way. She cleared her throat. "A-all right." She recalled the rest of what he'd said and realized he'd implied they'd be heading to her bedroom, not his or a shared set of rooms. "Why will I have my own bedroom?"

His eyebrows lifted. "Why? I thought you'd want one. If you'd prefer to share mine—"

"No!" Heat rushed to her face, and she lowered her voice. She hadn't meant to interrupt him, nor speak at such an elevated volume. "I mean no, I'm fine with having my own room. Thank you..."

"Gabriel," said the elite. "My name is Gabriel Aradne." He glanced at her briefly, and then walked hand in hand with her up the staircase.

At the top, they entered a spacious corridor with doors on both sides. Gabriel brought her about halfway down the hallway before stopping. He opened a wooden door and guided her inside. "This is your room."

Rooms was more like it. The large space before her was furnished with a desk and a chair as well as a couch, and opened up into another, even bigger room featuring a four poster bed twice the size of the narrow mattress in her group home. All the walls were painted a deep purple, and the carpet was a dark gray color she found both somber and beautiful. She was instantly enchanted with her new apartment if not the male beside her.

She turned to Gabriel. "This is a wonderful room. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it." He took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion beside him. She sat down. The fabric beneath her pressed into her labia, which were still as highly sensitive as they'd been last night but no longer aroused. She shifted uncomfortably, but wasn't sure what she could do except grin and bear it—sans the grinning.

He touched the top of her wing, stroking it. She tried not to tense. He had been nice to her so far. Maybe she could do this.

"I'll get to the point," he said, startling her. "My last mate died in childbirth a decade ago, and Judgment has encouraged me to try again. I can't forgive myself, you see."

She nodded. She wasn't sure what to say, but she did know Gabriel wasn't what she'd expected. She'd anticipated a brute who bossed her around, not a kind male talking about his dead mate and his inability to let go.

He lifted one of her feathers and ran a finger from his opposite hand up and down its length. The motion sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, and made her wish he was Sven. "I was lucky enough to fall in love with her, and she me, soon after we spent her first heat together. Then I lost her ... and I haven't been the same since." He looked at her. "I'm telling you this because I may not perform as expected. If so, what I've told you is why."

And if I don't perform as expected, it's because I'm in love with someone else.

"I understand. Are we going to have sex now?" Her voice cracked on the word "sex." She was pretty sure he noticed, because he let go of the feather he was petting and replied quickly.

"Not if you don't want to. You'll be in heat for two weeks, and we'll have plenty of time to couple in coming days."

"Thank you." She meant it. "You've been extremely considerate and I appreciate it." She took an unsteady breath and exhaled. "But I'd just like to get this over with now. Maybe—"

It'll help me get my mind off things, she was about to say, when a furred thing walked in the still-open door. Asa shrank back in fear. The being wasn't huge—the furry, four-legged something would have come up to her thighs if she'd been standing—but it did possess an impressive set of teeth and a freakishly long, red tongue protruding from its open mouth. She suspected it was an animal, a type of life form Sven claimed to have seen in hell, but couldn't be sure.

She gripped Gabriel's arm as the thing halted before the couch. "What the hell is that?"

"Judgment." He pried her fingers of his arm and stood, then spoke to the four-legged being. "Good morning, my lord. This is Asa, my new mate."

The furred monstrosity transformed into a slender male angel with black hair long enough to brush his hips and shook his head. He spoke in a deep voice that didn't seem to match his slim, though tall, frame. "This female's heart belongs to another, Gabe. I sensed this the moment she entered the palace, and she is an unacceptable match for you. I am sorry."

Her alleged new mate looked about as bewildered as Asa felt. He ran his fingers through his golden hair and stared at Judgment. "If that's the case, what should we do? I won't insult her by bringing her back to her awful manager unless she wishes it."

"She does not wish it." The ruler of all angels focused on Asa, and a nervous tremor ran through her—Judgment's eyes were solid gold, with no pupil or white around the iris. He winked at her. "I can read your mind, little one. I thought I should tell you before I judged its contents."

Oh, fu... Oh, frick. "Then you know I considered running away with Sven." She doubted it was a smart idea to blurt this out, but it seemed better to get her transgression out in the open than keep silent and be confronted about it later.

"Yes. But considering an action is not a crime, and I am not my grandfather. He would have considered Sven's proposal treasonous regardless of whether you went through with it. I do not." The lord of them all helped her up from the couch and clasped one of her hands in both of his. His fingers were warm and dry, and surprisingly normal in feel—somehow, she'd imagined being touched by him would burn or tingle or something.

He smiled, and she suspected he'd read her last thought. "It took you great courage to refuse to run away with your lover, and you were not in the wrong when you did so. Yet you are suffering all the same, by being separated from him. That is no one's fault but mine."

What. The. Frick? Judgment was admitting he was at fault? For what? She was missing something here. "Wha-what are you saying?"

"I am beginning to realize some of the things my grandfather did, such as creating the current system of raising a group of females to breed with the most crucial officials in our society, were more harmful than not. Ensuring the elite reproduce when needed is important, but not to the point of damaging the people's faith in us. And by failing to abolish this system before now, I have caused you, and others like you, great sorrow. I apologize."

Before Asa could respond to his surprising statements, Judgment turned to Gabriel, who still looked somewhat bewildered. The lord of them all let go of her hand and gripped his companion's shoulder. "We will find you a new mate, my friend. I promise you that. But for now, I must give the lady what she wants. Go into the room to the left of this one and bring me the angel there."

Gabriel nodded and left. Asa's breathing grew erratic as a plethora of emotions swept through her. Did she dare hope Sven was here? Or had she hit her head at some point and started hallucinating things?

Judgment sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, with one bent at the knee. He flipped his extraordinarily long hair over one shoulder and grinned at her. "Yes, I brought him here. It was the least I could do, when I realized a female with a broken heart was in my home."

Her eyes flooded with tears, but for the first time in a long time, they were tears of joy. She had no idea what to say to the lord of them all. How could she ever thank him enough?

"You are under no obligation to thank me, but it would do my heart good to see you happy. Please, stay in my palace for the duration of your heat, and feel free to make a child with your mate. I may have a job proposal for you in a few days time."

Asa started to ask what he meant, but was interrupted by the arrival of Sven and Gabriel. Her lover ran to the couch and lifted her off it, hugging her tightly as soon as he could get his arms around her. "Sweetheart!"

"Sven." She was sobbing now. She kissed him hard and wrapped her legs around his hips when he hauled her off the floor. The movement put her mound in direct contact with his erection, and a deep sense of completeness filled her, as well as a healthy dose of need. She could breed with him, or do whatever she wanted with and to his body. But after being separated with him for a night and part of a morning she was sure—she wanted him in her immediately, and if a baby was made, so be it. They would care for any child they made together.

"I think we should leave now," Judgment said sotto voce.

Gabriel laughed. "I think so too."

She peeked over Sven's shoulder at the two males, and they disappeared. Satisfied she and her mate were alone, she looked back at him and sucked in her breath. His normally silver eyes were bright amber and crinkled up in the corners. He kissed her nose and whispered, "Let's make a baby, sweetheart."

Her throat tightened with emotion, and she beamed at him through the tears still escaping her eyes. "Gladly." She couldn't look away from him as she raised her hips and rubbed her labia across his already slippery and rock-hard cock head. The sensation of his precum-lubed cock threatening to push in and stretch her wide made her hiss, and her arms tightened around his neck. Sven groaned, and teleported them both to the bed located farther into the room.

He laid her down and slid into her. Asa screamed and bit his shoulder, wrapping her wings around him and digging her nails into his back as he thrust in deep and pulled out only to repeat the motion again and again. Her inner walls were so sensitive there was pain, but also intensified pleasure as her heat seemed to enhance every sense she had. She came quickly and often until both of them fell asleep, curled together in post-coital bliss.

The End

The Horseman's Heart

By

Elizabeth Rose

All Hallow's Eve. They said she was a witch. He watched as they laid her down on the execution planking. Her deep, crystal blue eyes gazing into his, the rain plastering strands of her flaxen hair to her face. Why? God why did she have to choose beheading over the pyre? He fought with the men restraining him. He lurched forward, but the stinging blow to the back of his head fell him to his knees, drenched in the muddy bog created by the downpour over dirt streets. As he struggled to remain conscious, he saw her smile. He heard her words over the courtyard din. "I will come back for you my love. I will always come back for you."

The blade fell, swift and strong, cutting clean. Her head dropped from her shoulders and rolled along the ground until it hit his knees, the head angled slightly upwards. The eyes stared up at him, glassy and lifeless, and the corners of her mouth remained fixed in that beautiful, soft smile, even in death. He picked up the head, cradling it against his chest, and his agonized scream could be heard for almost a mile around.

****

Bzzzztttt. Bzzzztttt. Bzzzztttt. Lyndon wiped the sleep from his eyes. His heart rate was up, and goosebumps prickled his flesh. The same nightmare three nights in a row? He needed to lay off the pizza before bed, he assumed. His dreams were getting all sorts of weird and funky these days.

He walked over to the fridge and grabbed last night's pizza and a half finished beer from two days ago. He sat on his couch and turned on the TV. He flipped to the Weather Channel. "-rain crashing over the East Coast areas including-"

He munched into the pizza. Man. Rain. Again? On Halloween? Seriously? It was bad enough he had to work on Halloween, after all, working at Party City during Halloween was like working at Toys 'R Us on Black Friday. In other words, it was suicidal. He walked over to his answering machine, still munching on pizza, still holding his bottle of beer. He had fifteen new messages. Of course, he hadn't checked his machine for the two days he just had off. That would also be suicidal. Most people mysteriously called in sick whenever he had a day off. He learned a long time ago when to dodge the phone.

Beeeep. "Hey, Lyndon. This is Carra. Sorry about missing dinner last night. Really though, I just don't think we're-"

Lyndon took a swig of beer. Uh huh. I knew you were a washout when you didn't show in the first ten minutes. Moving on...

Beeeep. "Hey, Lyndon. This is Melissa. Look, Freddy gets off early to take his kids trick-or-treating and I need you here a couple of hours early—"

Another swig of beer. Melissa was the General Manager of this particular Party City franchise. And Lyndon was a supervisor. It sounded really cool, until you realized 'supervisor' was just a glorified name for 'sucker who picks up other people's slack'. He was supposed to go in at five 'o clock tonight and she wanted him there at three. Okay. No problem. He could use the overtime anyways. Which was why they scheduled him two days off. He was close to O.T.

He drained the beer. Their pockets, not mine. He threw the bottle in the garbage as he finished listening to the message. "And buy some candy for the trick-or-treaters on your way out, please."  
Lyndon rolled his eyes. "Let the good times roll."

****

Lyndon threw a bunch of candy in the shopping cart.

"My, aren't we into the holiday spirit today," his co-worker Lynda teased. Lyndon scowled at her. She was 5'4" of a petite, sassy, saccharine powerbomb just waiting to explode. She had short curly hair, sparkling blue eyes and a smile that turned most men's spines to jelly. Lyndon scowled at her. He reached to an overhead shelf to grab a bag of Fun-Size Kit Kats, running on autopilot, when he dropped the bag. Right into Lynda's small, delicate hands.

"Don't scowl at me like that, Don," she said, using the nickname everyone gave him at work. There was a playful glint in her eyes. She tossed the bag of candy at him.

"Gimme a break, Don. You know you love Halloween as much as everyone else."

Lyndon caught the bag and dropped it in the cart. He raised his eyebrows at Lynda. "Maybe. If I wasn't working every single Halloween."

Which he knew was a lie. He always hated Halloween, ever since he could remember. Not that there was any tragic, horrendous event associated with it that he could recall...he just never got into it. While other kids were out trick-or-treating, he stayed at home reading a book. The concept both delighted and worried his parents. On the one hand, they loved not having to deal with the traditional Halloween hassle; on the other they worried it might make him less...normal. In the end, it brought the family more together, as they used Halloween as a family game night instead.

"You rea—" He lurched as someone hit him from behind. "Hey, watch where you're—"

He looked at the tall, hooded figure. Under the hood was a very life like skull with strange glowing orange eyes. "...going..." Lyndon finished awkwardly.

The figure grasped him by the shoulders, and said in a deep, hissing voice, "Beware the Dark Rider."

Lyndon watched as the 'man' turned and cornered the aisle. Lynda had been standing behind him, another bag of candy ready to throw in the cart. Lyndon didn't turn around to see the expression on her face. "You, uh, see that?"

"Yuuuup." Her tone told him she found it as odd as he did.

"Then he was real?"

"Yuuuup."

"Creep you out too?"

"Yuuuup." And Lynda was not one who was easily spooked.

"I think we, um, should go now."

"Yuuuup."

****

They pulled up to the Party City employee parking bay. Lyndon popped the truck and Lynda helped him haul in about twenty-five pounds of candy. To Lyndon, that was about twenty-four-and-a-half pounds too many. The water in the parking lot was almost ankle deep now, and the non-stop sheets gave no indication of letting up. "Maybe we should have opted for Life-Savers instead of Kit Kats," he remarked dryly.

Lynda smacked him on the shoulder. "If you're going to work at a place specializing in costumes, especially on Halloween, could you at least try to have some holiday spirit?"

"Do, or do not. There is no 'try," he threw back at her. He wasn't sure if she was a Star Wars fan, but it seemed like the right thing to say, regardless.

"Then do. Look at me and see my size do you? And where you should not," she replied, sticking her tongue out. Lyndon assumed she too, felt it the right thing to say at the moment. A slight smile played on his lips at her playful response.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that? No. It can't be. It just can't."

She freed her hands and pushed against the corners of his mouth, drawing his lips out even further. In fact, ridiculously so, Lyndon mused. "Well look at that," she said with a smug air.  
"I guess miracles are possible, even on Halloween."

They loaded up the candy in the designated bins and Lyndon went to Fred's station. "Report- ing for duty, sir," Lyndon said with a smile and a mock salute.

Fred ran his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair and let out a long sigh of relief. "God bless you, Lyndon. I hated to do this on such short notice, but Kat was kept over a few hours and we promised the kids to go trick-or-treating this year."

He rolled his eyes. "Hindsight is a superpower I really need to acquire lately."

Lyndon laughed. "I hear that. It works out for me anyways. I'm pushing OT. A couple of hours away from hitting it. Screw candy, man. Fill my basket with dough."

Fred let out a boisterous chuckle. "Tell me about it. But man, the company won't like that at all."

Lyndon shrugged. "Screw the company. You think we're paid enough for this?"

Fred stroked his chin, lost in thought. "No, no I guess they don't now, do they?"

Lyndon clapped the older man on the shoulder. "Now go have some fun with the kids, okay?"

Fred grimaced. "You ever see kids on a post-Halloween sugar high? It ain't fun."

Lyndon laughed. But a part of him felt a pang. He was now pushing thirty, and he hadn't settled down yet, much less dated for over eight years. There was something in Fred's words that touched on a sore spot Lyndon hadn't been aware of until now. He contemplated that for a long, hard moment as Fred took his leave, then shrugged it off to the season's spooky reputation combined with the dreary weather.

Once Lyndon arrived at work, he actually started enjoying himself. He didn't love his job, per se; but he certainly did like it quite a bit. After all, at Party City, everyday was a holiday. He smiled to himself as he thought about sending that one to corporate's ad department. Maybe he could move up to sales someday, he mused with a chuckle.

Lynda approached him, coffee in hand. "I figured you needed this. Sally bailed on us...again. Gwen has called for a replacement, but it'll be two hours before Devan shows."

Lyndon sighed and took the cup, inhaling the pungent aroma with another sigh, only this one of bliss. "Okay. You want to stock shelves for now and I'll cover her? Or vice versa?"

Lynda chuckled. "C'mon, S-Man. They pay you to do both right? At the same time no less," she added with a playful wink.

"God, I wish," he said, taking a slug of bitter black.

"Okay then, I'll stock. My short ass can use a workout anyways," she said with a laugh.

"Cool. I'll see you in back in a couple of hours."

"Sounds kinky," she teased, her voice dropping to a sultry cadence.

Lyndon flushed. "T-that's not what I meant...," he stammered.

"I know," she purred. "I made it that way." She threw another wink at him and strolled off to some imagined beat in her head. Quite probably the My Darkest Days hit Casual Sex.

After recovering, Lyndon went to the cashier's aisles and found booth #7. Gwen was a short, stocky brunette with weary green eyes. She greeted him with a worn smile. "Company won't suffer me a couple of hours OT I see."

Lyndon was taken aback. "Lynda told me your night shift was non-existent, and your relief would be two hours late. I just assumed you needed relieved."

Her eyes welled some and Lyndon put a hand on her shoulder. "Talk to me, Gwen. It's what I'm here for. Tell me what's going on here."

She wiped at her eyes in irritation. "It...I mean...mom's been taken with Alzheimer's. We need to put her in a care facility. Jack just lost his job and unemployment and food stamps are just barely getting us by without the added care expenses. Some overtime would really help us out."

Lyndon nodded. "Okay. Sure. Just tell me when you need to leave and I'll relieve you if Devan is late."

Gwen wiped her eyes again. "Okay, Don. Thanks. I'll do that."

Lyndon squeezed her shoulder gently and walked towards the costume aisles. Aisle three had a large Wookie scratching its head as it looked at a variety of assorted Halloween streamers and party supplies. "Hey Chewie, need a hand?"

The Wookie turned to him and waved its arms with great agitation and a blast of incoherent gibberish. "Woooolll, hmff rawrrr!!!!"

Lyndon raised his hands. "Easy, sorry. Um...so, you say your name is Gnarmph."

The Wookie nodded. "Okay, what're you looking for exactly?"

"Gnarlfff, muwaff roolllfff ruff snurfff, hurrmph."

Lyndon patted Gnarmph on the shoulder. "Wrong aisle, bud. You'll find those in aisle five."  
"Hrmmphhh, woralffff wurluumph."

"No problem, man."

Heading to aisle seven, he noticed a mummy walking down a cross aisle, dragging streamers of white. "Whoa there, bud," he said, stopping him. He reached behind the mummy and plucked a piece of toilet paper from one of the stray wrappings. He held up to the mummy to see and the mummy gave him a thumbs up and continued strolling down the cross aisle.

In aisle seven he saw Batman perusing a variety of Halloweeny gadgets. He knew the man under the mask. It was a neighbor named Brad. "Hey Brad. How goes the good fight?"

Brad held a finger to his lips. "Ssssshhhh. Man, you trying to get me killed? What point is a secret identity if you blab about it to everyone?" He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Lyndon winced. "Okay, sorry, sorry. Can I help you find anything today, Batman?"

"Yeah. You have any shark repellent? Oh, and I need a dozen more Batarangs, just to be on the safe side."

"Batarangs aisle two. And why in god's name do you need shark repellent," he asked, afraid of the answer.

'Batman' nodded inconspicuously over his shoulder. Lyndon looked, being just as discreet, and saw a shark's head emerging from the floor with a man standing in its mouth, faux blood dribbling from his legs and the shark's teeth. "Ah. I see. Well, we just ran out of shark repellent two days ago. Sorry."

Bat-Brad snapped his fingers in exasperation. "Damn! I knew I should have stocked up before leaving the Bat Cave this morning."

Lyndon patted him on the shoulder. "Better luck next time, bud."

"Hopefully my luck turns up an Ace instead of a Joker this time," Bat-Brad muttered as Lyndon worked his way back to the cashier lanes. When he got back to checking up on Gwen, she was nearly nodding off at the register. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I'll take over here. Go home, Gwen."

She started at his touch. "Wha- huh?"

"Go home Gwen," he said softly.

Her shoulders slumped. "I guess I have no choice now. Can't fall asleep on duty I guess."

She gave a light laugh. "I'll cover until Devan shows. And I'll keep you on the clock till then."

She waved her hands. "Oh no I could-"

"You can, and you will," Lyndon stated with a firm tone. He pulled out his wallet and took a bill from it, slipping it into her hands. "And here's a little extra. I know it's not much, but-"

Gwen stared at the hundred dollar bill in her hand. "No, Lyndon, that's going way above your duties. I just can-"

"You can, and you will," he said with a chuckle.

"I...I don't know what to say..." Tears welled in her eyes.

"Say goodnight, Gwen," Lyndon said, smiling and directing her towards the exit. She nodded. Then hugged him in a tight embrace.

"I won't ever forget this, Don," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Now go getting all sentimental on me princess," he said with another chuckle.

She nodded and left. When Lyndon turned around, Bat-Brad was standing at the checkout, with a smile on his face. He took off his mask and extended his hand to Lyndon. "It's always nice to be reminded what real heroes are made of. I'm proud to know you Lyndon."

Lyndon flushed and shook his hand. "It...was nothing...really."

Brad pointed towards the door through which Gwen just exited. "Maybe not to you, but it sure as hell did to her. And that's all that matters in the long run, don't you think?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Lyndon fumbled with the Batarangs as he tried to sack them. Brad reached over and took them from him. "It's okay. These are for on the go," he said with a laugh.

Brad left and Lyndon started the next customer's purchase, running the next customer's items over the scanner. "That was a very nice thing you did for that lady," came a distinctly muffled female voice.

Lyndon looked up at the customer. Well, tried to, anyways. The figure was tall, clad in a long skirt with chemisette, a rider's jacket, and from what he could tell, long riding boots with bootstrap, all in black. And...no head. The figure was about six feet tall, which would have made the woman inside the suit of a pretty good height. He could see no visible eye slits or mouth opening in the whole costume. And Lyndon knew his costumes. "Wow. That's, uh, a very realistic outfit."

A soft laugh emitted from the neck area of the outfit. "Thanks. I get that a lot. You seem like a very good person, from what I saw."

Lyndon shrugged. "I just treat others like I hope they would treat me if I ever found myself in the same situation."

Something was familiar about her voice, but he couldn't place it. It was soft, even without the muffled effect of the costume, he could tell. There was a soft, almost musical, lyricism to her tone. She rested her hand on his. "Something tells me you are a very good man."

Beads of sweat trickled down the back of Lyndon's neck at her touch. He couldn't get over the fact that she seemed so familiar to him and yet he still hadn't even laid eyes on her to his knowledge. "Do...do I know you?"

Another soft laugh. "Many paths cross many lifetimes, but no, in this life we have not met."

Oookaaaay. Reincarnation? Lyndon was never a big believer, but he certainly wouldn't fault another for their opinion on the subject. He always liked to think that humanity made its own karma, rather than leaving it in the hands of gods to decide. "I see. Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. What are you doing after work?"

Whoa. This one was direct. However, he really had no plans, and here was a living, breathing woman, possibly a quite beautiful one under all the costume, who insinuated wanting to hang out after he finished his shift. And why not? He hadn't dated in eight years, but he hadn't had much social interaction besides that in eight years either. Mostly it was just work, then home. He thought about it for a few seconds and then decided to roll with it. "Not much, really. Usually I go home, sleep, then go to work," he said, running his hands through his hair. "That's about it."

Her finger trailed lightly across his arm. "All work and no play makes Lyndon a dull boy."  
He started. "Wait...how did you know...know my name?"

She giggled and pointed at his name tag. He blushed. "Oh...yeah. Right."

She gathered up her items and turned to leave. "See you after work, Lyndon."

"Looks like she won't be giving you head tonight," came a sensuous, lilting voice from behind him.

Lyndon jumped. "Damn it, Lynda, why do you have to be so damn sneaky?"

He turned to face her. She was sipping off his coffee cup. "Because I'm short and it's god's gift to short people that they are privileged with sneaky constitutions," she said with a smile.

"You know remarks like your prior one can be classified as 'sexual harassment," he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sounds kinky," she purred, blowing some steam away from the cup. "You are going, right? With the Headless Horsewoman?"

"I don't know. Should I?"

Lynda leaned against the counter, assuming a very provocative pose. "I would."

"If you were me, you mean?"

She licked her lips. "No. I mean period."

Lyndon's throat was suddenly parched and he took his coffee from her, drinking a swig then waving the cup just past her. "Devan's here. You stock while I get him clocked in and I'll work inventory."

Lynda stood and fired off a faux salute. "Yes, sir," she said, throwing him a wink.

That's what Lyndon loved about her. Professional? Not in the least. Fun? Absolutely.

****

Five minutes after closing, Devan came back to the stockroom. Lyndon and Lynda had a dozen more boxes of new stock to inventory. "Boss, there's a character here to see you. Kind of tall, dressed in black, sans head."

Lynda tossed Lyndon a knowing look. "Oh she's a hungry one, this one," she said with a giggle.

Devan raised his brows. "She? That's a she?"

Lynda cut into another box. "It's Don's impromptu date tonight."

Devan shook his head. "You have some kinky tastes, boss."

Lyndon rolled his eyes. "Tell her she'll have to wait about-"

Lynda got up and started pushing Lyndon towards the door. "It's rude to make a lady wait, Don."

Lyndon dragged his feet. "We got work to do, Lynda."

"Yes we do. Me and Devan, that is. You go. Have fun. We'll take care of the rest, and I'll see Devan gets some off-the-clock incentives for working hard."

Devan threw Lynda a thumbs-up. "Works for me," he said in his laid back native Californian tone before walking out the door to attend to the front.

"You're evil, Lynda, you know that," Lyndon said with a chuckle.

"And tonight is the night where evil intentions turn into good times for everyone. You work your ass off and don't stop to enjoy life, Don. Now's the time to stop thinking about what's right and start thinking about yourself for a change."

Lyndon smiled. "Or what?"

"Or I'll report you for all the short jokes you make about me all the time," she said with a chuckle.

"And what if I report you for sexual harassment for your crass sense of humor?"

She reached down and squeezed his ass firmly, drawing out a surprised yelp from Lyndon. She stopped pushing him and stood in front of him, unbuttoning the top of her blouse. "Then I'll make damn sure I earn it first," she said with a sly wink. "Do you want to do that now, here, while someone is waiting for you in the front of the store."

Lyndon flushed. "Um...no, no. I'm good thanks."

Lynda laughed. "I'm sure you are. Now you know the drill, stud. Go, meet, greet, fuck and have fun."

Lyndon raised an eyebrow. "That our new slogan?"

Lynda's smile turned even more wicked. "Sweetheart, that's always been my slogan."

Lyndon met the 'Headless Horsewoman' at the front, feeling very awkward. He scratched the back of his neck. "I...uh...don't even know your name..."

She took a gloved hand and lightly ran her finger under his chin. "Oh you will. Trust me. Before tonight is out in full, you will."

Lyndon shot a nervous glance back at Lynda who only smiled and waved. The woman presented her arm and he took it. "I'm parked just right outside," she said, leading him to the exit.

The doors opened and Lyndon saw...the most exquisite black horse he could have ever imagined. And a few things he would have never imagined on such a fine beast. Like dark red eyes and bright flaming hooves. A surge of nervousness blasted through him. "Look...um...I'm not sure I'm exactly comfortable with this—"

The woman placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know," she said in a soft voice. "Which is why I must ask you to search deep within our heart and let it decide the course of action you will take."

Lyndon did just that. And in a few minutes, he had his answer. "What the hell? Let's do this."  
He could almost hear a smile of approval in the woman's muted voice. "Indeed. Let's."

he mounted with an effortless grace and extended her hand to him. He took her hand and she helped him up with a strength belied by her overall frame. He felt like a child being picked up by an adult. He secured himself behind her.

"Hold on tight," she said. He wrapped his arms around her, and she kicked the horse's sides with a loud, "Yah!"

The horse started out at a full gallop. She maneuvered it down the streets, against the flow of traffic. "Whoa," Lyndon said, the panic in his voice rising.

"You signed on for one hell of a ride," she said with a giggle. A taxi was headed straight for them, its horns blaring. The rider did not deviate from the path in the least. The cab driver slammed his brakes, turning into a slide, leaving the broad side of the vehicle towards them, effectively barricading them. The rider gave the horse its head and the beast instinctively jumped the taxi, leaving a cursing, terrified cabby in their wake.

When the horse landed, lush trees loomed overhead and a winding dirt road appeared before them. Sunlight filtered though the opening in the tree's overlapping branches and Lyndon heard the sweet song of a least a dozen different varieties of birds. They took the path till they came upon a shimmering lake sitting on a broad bank.

The sunlight glinted off the rider's flaxen locks, and Lyndon saw that now she wore a white layered bustle skirt and blouse, with a dark green waist cincher. The horse they sat upon now a white charger with a silver mane. The horse trotted slowly up to the bank and began drinking. The woman dismounted and helped Lyndon down. He looked into her deep blue eyes, and a name popped into his mind without warning. "Celise. I know you..."

She took his hand in hers. "Yes, Don. Yes you do. We made love here so long ago. I'd like to make love here again."

Lyndon was taken aback. "Here? Now? This is so sudden...I mean we don't even really know each-"

She stifled his protests with a hungry kiss. And with that kiss she consumed any and all remaining resistance left within him. He took her in his arms, returning her kiss with forceful vigor and started unlacing her waist cincher. His fingers began unlacing the blouse and soon it too was discarded on the ground next to the cincher. He took his fingers and pinched at her nipple playfully. She moaned, clenching his head and moving it down to her plump breasts. He took her cue and started licking and tracing her nipple with his tongue. "I need you inside of me," she whispered with frantic longing.

He raised her skirt, pulling down her undergarments and laid her on the ground. Her hands found his pants, tugging in desperation. She undid his zipper and he unbuttoned them and hurriedly cast them off, along with any other restraining articles of clothing. He was hard and hungry, and he plunged into her moist warmth with little hesitation. She thrust her hips against him, consuming his throbbing erecting with an insatiable appetite.

He felt the familiar burning sensation, knowing his release was imminent as his cock pulsated and his skin stretched till he thought he was going to burst. And when he could control it no longer, he released his seed inside her with a savage groan of satisfaction.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer for another kiss, still thrusting against him with cooing moans of elation. "I have you now," she whispered in his ear. "I told you I'd come back for you."

When they separated, he rolled on his back next to her. She took his hand and they locked eyes. "It won't hurt much, I promise," she said with an overwhelming sadness to her voice.

"What? I don't understand..." He looked up at the stars, vaguely aware of a cold, hard and uncomfortable object underneath his neck. The whistle of the train was the last thing he heard.

****

Trisha hated reporting on grizzly events like the one she covered this morning. She was never an advocate of 'if it bleeds it leads'. And the grief. The grief was so overwhelming at times. She walked over to a petite young woman named Lynda and put a hand on her shoulder. "Miss, I'm sorry to intrude, but can you give me a few words about what might have happened here?"

The woman stared at her with glassy, tear streaked eyes. "I...I don't know. Lyndon wasn't suicidal. He would never...I mean...he stayed to himself a lot and worked hard...but he would never...," the woman broke into fresh sobs.

She approached a stocky man named Brad. His eyes were pink and tired. "Could you tell me a little more about the victim?"

"He was a good man...he...he gave one of his workers money out of his own pocket when her mother was ill. He...would hang out with me sometimes and would grill..."

Trish walked away after a few more interviews with more questions than answers. What would cause a man who seemed so charitable, so kind and loving, to commit suicide on a train track which sat so far outside the city limits? What would have brought him there to die?

****

Lyndon made a large breakfast consisting of bacon, eggs, toast, and a variety of other goodies. He took a large wooden tray to his bedroom and set it down on Celise's lap. "Oh Lyndon, It's wonderful," she said, clasping his hands.

"No, sweetie. You're wonderful." He kissed her on the cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

"Maybe what I'm hungry for isn't on the menu," she whispered lustfully in his ear.

He reached down and rubbed her tummy. "The baby might have an opinion on that particular side dish."

Celise giggled. "The baby will close its ears and eyes, she says."

Lyndon arched a brow. "Oh, it's a she now is it?"

"The midwife says it would be kicking a lot harder if it was male," she said with a mock seriousness to her tone.

"Maybe the midwife doesn't know everything," Lyndon said with a playful smile, moving the tray and letting her pull him into bed with her.

The End

A Tragic Tale

By

Tina Pollick

Chapter One

The door squeaked as Jodi tried for the fourth time to escape her bedroom. Footsteps echoed down the long hallway, and she scrambled to get back into her bed. She jumped into it and pulled the covers up and started to snore. The door opened a little more, and then closed tight. She listened as the footsteps faded away, like the waning moonlight.

"Damn it!" Jodi rolled out of bed; her feet barely touched the ground when the door whipped open.

"I knew you weren't sleeping love. You never snore." Jodi's mother Agatha's tall, thin frame was dwarfed by the large wooden door. Every bedroom in the castle had these doors that took at least ten full size men to open, but her mother popped them open without a thought.

She used her magic. Jodi groaned and then berated herself. She could be in the arms of her lover if only she used her head.

Agatha entered the bedroom, grabbed a brush from the night stand. "Turn around dear. Since you're not sleeping I'll comb your hair while we 'talk'."

Jodi moved to the center with her back to her mother. She wanted to yell, scream, anything to let her lover know she would be there as soon as she could. She needed her mother gone, and fast. "What would you like to talk about?" Jodi spoke to her mother as if she had no idea what she was doing here. She would try and play it cool, and hope her mother would leave soon.

Agatha brought the brush up and stroked Jodi's red long hair. "There's a rumor that's spreading like wildfire within the castle."

"There are always rumors going around the castle." She sighed.

"You might be interested in this one." The pace at which she brushed Jodi's hair increased, and with each stroke so did the intensity.

"I doubt it but—Ow! Stop ripping out my hair."

Her mother set the brush done, while Jodi rubbed her scalp, and checked for any bald spots. "It's about you. The gossip is you've been sneaking out every night to meet one of those vile creatures. I assured them they were wrong but now I'm not so sure. Where were you going?"

Jodi turned to face her mother. She hated lying, and never was very good at it but to be with him she would do anything. She kept her expression blank, and maintained eye contact as she spoke each, and every word. "Dinner was horrid. I didn't want to offend the cook so I was going to get a snack."

"It was not his best supper that's for sure." She reached her hand up, and brushed her thumb across Jodi's cheek. "Do I need to explain to you again, why you must never, ever see a vampire?"

Jodi shook her head. She hated hearing the story about how the war started but she knew her mother, and the tale would be spoken once again.

"I'm going to tell you anyway." Her mother stood and went to the door. She called to a guard and asked for a snack from the kitchen.

Jodi's heart sank. She would not be with Sam tonight. Heart raced and with each pulsing beat threatened to break. She hoped he would come by her window and see her mother there, only then would he know that she had missed their date on purpose. She watched her mother pull up a chair and set it next to the bed. She sat down, one hand covered the other, and the familiar distant gaze covered her eyes.

The door opened and a hand maiden walked into the room, set the tray on the bed, bowed and exited without a word. Jodi glanced at the tray, and knew she would have to force herself to eat. She looked at the plate filled with cheese, and fruit trying to decide which she should attempt to eat. She finally settled on a piece of cheese.

"Thank you." Jodi said, forcing the food down. She was hungry but not for food, and each bite reminded her that Sam's arms would not hold her close this eve.

Her mother smiled. "Now where was I?"

Getting ready to leave me alone for the rest of the night? Jodi thought.

"Your father was a wonderful King, and father but he was a wretched husband."

And here we go. She remembered the first time her mother told her this story when she was eight. Now at almost twenty-one she'd heard it more times then she wanted to.

"I knew something was going on, a wife always knows. He started coming into our chamber later, and later until finally he didn't return most nights. I questioned him about his whereabouts, and it was always kingdom duties that kept him from returning to me." She stopped staring into space as if she relived those moments over, and over. "I knew something was going on but the part of me that loved your father wouldn't allow me to accept it, I needed to see it with my own eyes."

Jodi scooted forward and covered her mother's fingers with her own. "Mom, you don't have to do this. I know the story by heart. There's nothing going on that you need to be worried about."

Her mother forced a small smile. "You will be Queen a few months. This Kingdom will be yours to run. I need you to understand, and never forget the reason why we are at war." She pointed to the window. "Thos monsters killed your father, and that is something you must never forget!"

"I know," Jodi whispered.

"Where was I? Oh yes, so one night I followed him to a room a few doors down from our bedroom. I couldn't see inside so I went into the adjoining room and crossed the balcony, using the shadows as cover. I crouched down and watched through the window. I bit my fist to keep from screaming out as I watched that whore mount your father." She stood and wiped her fingers on her gown, and then paced the length of the room. "I should've turned away but I couldn't. Your father looked so happy, and that smile was something I hadn't witnessed in a long time. She bent her head down and I thought she was kissing his neck but then his legs began to shake. I tried to open the window but I couldn't get it open. She finally got off him, and wiped his blood from her mouth. She looked at the window like she knew someone was watching but I don't think she saw me. She stood and walked out of the room like nothing happened. I ran back into the room and through the door where your father lay--- dead. That whore vamp sucked the life blood from your father, and all I could do is sit back and watch." She wiped the tears from her cheek, stopped, and turned to me. "I won't ever allow myself to feel that helpless again."

Jodi waited for the next part because the next part is the reason why they were warring with the vampires in the first place. There was a portal in her dimension that allowed wizards, and vampires to go to the mortal realm. The wizards are the one who powered it but the vampires gave the blood sacrifice that was needed to go to Earth. Magic was not free like most humans thought. It had a price for its use like everything else, and the price to leave their realm was the death of another.

"I asked Vladimir to bring me the girl so she could be punished but he refused. He is the reason we are at war, not me. All I wanted was justice for my husband, and what did I get? He laughed at me. Well he isn't laughing now is he?"

Jodi sighed. No one was laughing anymore.

"Now he wants to try, and make negotiations with me. Well the life of that whore is no longer the price for your fathers dead. I've heard rumors that their food storage is almost depleted, without human they'll all starve to death, and then justice will be mine."

Jodi remained silent. Her mother conveniently forgot that the vampires could live off the wizard's blood too. The human blood allowed the vampires to procreate but at this point no one was thinking about creating life, they were just trying to survive.

Her mother bent down and kissed her forehead. She pointed to the plate. "Eat your snack and then go to sleep my sweet."

Jodi forced a smile. "I will. Goodnight."

Agatha left the room. Jodi walked to the window her heart and mind clashed. She wanted the one vampire to be brought to justice for killing her father but not at the cost of annihilating two races. Sam was not her father's mistress, and he was not his father --- Vladimir. He was warm, kind, compassionate, and she loved him more than anything. She would not punish two races for two people's misdeeds. When she was Queen she planned on ending the war, and her first step at showing Vladimir she was serious was going to be reopening the portal. Her mother would never forgive her but she would make the hard decisions required of a Queen, and save her people, and Sam's.

A rock hit the glass rescuing her from the thoughts that threatened to drown her. She peered out the glass, and saw the figure standing below her window. Everything that was wrong a few seconds ago were forgotten as she watched the figure leap from the ground, and land on her balcony.

"You didn't show up?" Sam said, and pulled her into his arms.

"Mother." That was all she needed to say, he would be able to fill the rest in himself.

"The sun will rise soon, and I couldn't go to sleep without seeing your beautiful blue eyes," he placed a gentle kiss on each eyelid, "your pink, kissable lips," he bent down and ran his tongue across her mouth, "and most importantly your smile that lights up the room every time you grace me with it."

She gazed into his chocolate grown eyes, and ran her fingers through his thick shoulder length dark blonde hair. "Have I told you lately, how much I love you?"

He shook his head.

"Hmmm that's a pity." She started walking away, smiling, and he grabbed her pulling close. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" She shrieked.

He covered the sound with his mouth pressing against hers. He pulled away. "Someone's coming. I love you." He jumped down, and ran out of the courtyard.

Her door opened, and a guard called out. "Princess, is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine."

"I heard you scream."

"Sorry, there was a mouse but it's gone now."

He bowed and exited her room.

She fell back onto her bed, buried her face into the pillow, and screamed. Sam was here, and now gone. When she was Queen, they would spend every waking moment together. No more hiding, no more secrets, no more going to bed alone. She picked the plat up and set it on her dresser, and climbed into bed. She didn't have an entire night with Sam but at least she felt his arms before bed. She closed her eyes as sleep carried her away.
Chapter Two

The day dragged on, and on. Jodi hated every second without Sam more, and more. She attended all of her duties but only with half a heart. She glanced at the clock and thought only five more hours. Sam was fast asleep until the sun went down but she lived in two worlds, and balancing them was getting more difficult each day. She spent her evening with Sam, and then came home and slept for a few hours before waking and performing her duties as a princess.

She entered the throne room, and every one stood. She was there to listen to the new death tolls, the strategies that were failing, and to the new widows plead for vengeance. Every day that passed with more lives lost, moved her further from her goal of getting the portal back open. Her people that were once filled with love and magic were now filled with hate, and revenge.

At the end of the session she departed the room, and headed toward her chambers. Her heart ached for all the horrible stories of loss. She felt like she was betraying her people. She collapsed on the bed, and wept until she cried herself to sleep.

The sound of a rock hitting the wall woke her from a deep sleep. She rubbed her eyes, and looked around trying to get her bearings. She turned to the window and saw the sun had gone down, and then another clunk as another rock pelted the wall. She walked over, and opened the balcony doors.

He lifted her head, and before he kissed her he noticed her swollen eyes, and red cheeks. "What's wrong my love?"

She pulled away. "I had to listen to the cries of vengeance from my people today. I can't look into those eyes again knowing I'm betraying them."

He wrapped his arms around her and brought her into his chest. "I listened to my people's cries today too. In addition to the loss they're worried about starving to death."

"I know, and I'm sorry for their suffering too," she whispered.

He rubbed his hands up, and down her back while he whispered reassurances.

She raised her head. "We either have to marry now, or end this. I can't keep hiding like this."

"If we marry before you are Queen, your mother can force a vote, and keep you from ever being Queen. If that happens, the war continues, and nothings resolved."

She rubbed her face, and inhaled his woodsy smell. "I don't think I can wait three more months to be with you."

He laughed. "Then we will not wait to make love. Meet me tomorrow at our place."

"You're leaving already?" she asked.

"It's almost time for me to retire for the day."

"I'm so sorry. I slept the whole night away."

He leaned down and kissed her gentle at first, and then with the passion she felt she would burst from. He raised his head. "Tonight you needed rest but tomorrow is mine." He grinned.

"Until tomorrow."

****

The day passed a lot quicker then she thought when she woke. Before she knew it the sun faded, and was replaced by a full moon. Her body hummed with nervous energy. She didn't fear Sam but giving herself fully to another man was something she dreamt about for a long time. She opened her closet, and tried to find the perfect outfit to wear, and giggled at the thought of how long she would actually be in it. Tonight no matter what she was going to give herself to Sam.

She crossed the courtyard and left the palace grounds undetected. She arrived at the abandoned house on the edge of their borders, this had become their place. She opened the door, and the place was filled with lit candles that covered the small two room house in an orange glow. She removed her cloak, and hung it on a hook next to the door. She turned, and Sam's arms embraced her.

"You came," he said in a breathy voice.

"This is the only place I want to be."

He picked her up, and carried her over to a make shift bed on the floor, and laid her down. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded.

"I was hoping you would say that." His smile filled the room, and erased the anxiety that filled her on her way here.

"I want you."

Those were the last words that left her lips.

He placed kisses across her face, down her jaw, and then her neck. He sucked, and nipped but never breaking her skin. She cried out as his head slipped under dress and his tongue traced a path from her breasts down to her navel. She threw her arms back, and hit the edge of the table. The cut was small but she could tell by the way his body froze that the smell filled the room.

He ripped off a piece of his shirt, and handed it to her. "Cover your wound, and run."

She looked into the once chocolate brown eyes that were now red. "I won't leave you. Sam it's me, you wouldn't ever hurt me."

"I can't fight it much longer. Run!"

She hesitated a moment before running out the door. She ran into the woods, and down the path she traveled moments before. She never heard his footsteps, and didn't know he was there until she hit the ground, her face cushioning the fall. He flipped her over but the man she knew, and loved was gone, and the only thing left was a monster.

"Sam if you're in there--- I love you."

He bent down and ripped the flesh from her neck a slurping sound was the last thing she heard before she died.

****

Sam woke from a hazy fog. It was the worst dream he ever had. A monster killed Jodi, and he was helpless to stop it. All he could do was stand there, and watch. He rolled over, and icy hand touched his skin. He let out a scream, as his arm brushed across her lifeless body.

He lifted her into his arms, kissing her forehead muttering apology after apology. He picked her up, and carried her back to their place. He walked outside and grabbed a stick, and brought it back inside where he whittled the end into a sharp point.

He didn't deserve a quick death but using a blunted end may not pierce his heart and no matter what he was going to die. He held the stick up to his heart, and fell to the ground, the impact shoving the stake through his heart.
Chapter Three

The castle sent out a search party when the princess was nowhere to be found. The guards told their Queen she didn't want to see but she insisted her daughter not be moved until she arrived. The sunset and the vampire search party led by Vladimir arrived at the same time as the Queen.

"What are you doing here? Did you come to gloat?" Agatha shrieked.

"I'm looking for my son. Someone told me they've seen him out here before." Vladimir responded.

She opened the door and screamed. Jodi lay side by side with a vampire who had a stake sticking out his back. She pushed Vladimir out of the way as she grabbed her only child in her arms rocking back and forth.

"No! Baby please wake up. Don't leave me. Wake up!"

Vladimir rolled the man over and fell to his knees. "Sam, what have you done?"

Agatha looked up, and glared at him. "He killed my baby, that's what that animal did."

"He was not an animal, he's my son." Vladimir hissed.

"I'm not surprised." She turned to the guard. "Blow it."

His face paled. "But my Queen that is a death sentence for us all."

"Do it!" She yelled.

Vladimir raised his head, and glanced at one of his men. "Seal the building. We will not all die today but this feud will end this day." He turned to Agatha. "I will not allow you to kill all of our people. Select a new ruler--- Now!"

"You can't kill me. I'm the Queen." She started to get up but he grabbed her, and pulled her down. "Guards kill him!"

Vladimir turned to the door. "If you want this war to continue listen to your Queen. If you all wish to die listen to your Queen. If you want a new beginning, lock us in." He moved his head so he looked into Agatha's eyes. "The woman who killed your husband was my wife. I was too proud to tell you I killed her myself. I was too proud to save my people from this fate we have both brought upon them but no more. Both of our people have paid enough for my pride and your vengeance. Name a new heir--- now!"

She brushed Jodi's hair from her forehead. "If she were still alive she would tell me to select someone who would lead our people with love, and compassion." She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "She would pick her handmaiden Marie."

Vladimir turned to the door. "Do you know this Marie?" he asked.

The guard nodded.

"That is who your Queen selects to take her place. The portal will be reopened, and our two people will find peace again. Do you understand?"

The guard nodded again.

"Close the door."

The wizards, and vampires worked together to seal their leaders into the two room abandoned house that now held the last of their family. Vladimir, and Agatha stared at each other in silence. The sound of boards being nailed on all possible entrances filled the house.

"They are working together. Our people have a chance at a new beginning," Vladimir said.

"Why didn't you name a predecessor?" Agatha asked.

"The next in command will take over. He's been telling me for a long time to swallow my pride, and end this war. He will make a good leader for my people."

"Good."

"Do you want me to give you a quick death, your majesty?"Vladimir asked.

"No. I want to watch you die." Agatha lay down next to Jodi, and pulled her lifeless body into her bosom.

"Very well." Vladimir stood and grabbed a candle and lit the curtains, and then the wooden table."May you find peace in your next life."

"May the fires from hell find you where ever you go."

The fire consumed the rickety house within moments. The people they led gathered around, and watched them burn. Tears of sadness, relief, and hope filled the air.

The end.
