Dark Surrender

by Quin Zayne

  “The locket belonged to Grace. She never removed it. Darla wore the charm bracelet most of the time. She wore out on the boat trip. I teased her how young she looked in her dress, some cute outfit for sailing. I have no name for it, so I called it a tennis dress. I still hear her laughter, rising notes like bells. Her musical voice comes back to me with the church bells on the mainland. I treasure the melodic sounds, but almost can’t bear it.” He cleared his throat.

  “It’s solid evidence, then?” She rested her hand on his shoulder.

  “There can be no mistake. I drove them to the boat that morning. I saw the locket chain in Grace’s neckline. I am—was—much taller than them.” His Adam’s apple jerked, the words wrenching out of him. He touched the jewelry on his palm. “These were gifts from me on each of their high school graduations.” Unshed tears shined in his eyes, gave them the sea’s color over his gold. “When you can give any sort of extravagant gift, it’s often small, personal things that mean the most. Grace’s locket has a picture of the two of us together when I ‘abducted her’ to sail around the world the summer before her senior year. It was a fantasy—.” His voice broke. “We sailed past Baja and back home. I caught hell for it, and it was worth it. Things were so regimented at home, it was a great escape for both of us. She imagined a future of freedom even more vividly than I did. She was so happy she bounced her her toes most of the trip, planning to see the world by sailboat, to visit other lands, not as Karls, simply as us.” His face softened and he stroked Kia’s back. The puppy raised her chin for him, tail wagging.

  Mandy moved closer to him, nestled against his body.

  “I wish I’d met your sisters.” She stroked Kia’s silky ears, and the puppy settled on her lap.

  Damon returned to stroking the puppy’s attention-hungry under-chin. “You would have liked them.” He paused, considering. “They would have liked you. The real you. If they’d lived—.” He shook his head, kept his eyes averted. “I might not have done—many things.” He pressed his hand against the stone at his back. The knuckles whitened. “Music was Darla’s life. She sang beautifully. Our parents discouraged her. They didn’t want her to go on stage, said it was vulgar. They constantly made cutting comments about celebrities, especially the women.” He shook his head. “That was part of the break with my father. I hated how he put them down. We sometimes took off, I’d drive her to clubs far from home where she could sing with bands. She got offers to become a lead singer. One day, she would have broken away from my father’s control and taken the chance.”

  “I’m sorry she didn’t get to do that.” She stood in silence with him, mourning the wasted lives. “Why did Fabian kill them? And why, why keep these things?”

  “I think it was all part of his end game.”

  “What is it?”

  He sighed. “My best guess is that he planned to take over the Karl dynasty. Not sure if he intends our father to die naturally, or if he’s got a plan for him, too. I imagine Fabian had a pro make the hit on Grace and Darla. He probably ordered the hit man to bring back these trophies as proof that the deed was done. He may well have kept them to taunt me down the line, or maybe he’s just a sick bastard. The investigator said they were locked in desk drawer, in plain sight once he opened the drawer, as though Fabian liked to look at them.” He closed his hands over all he had left of his sisters. His hand jerking, he put the relics back in his pocket. “Trophies of the kills,” he whispered, shaking his head.

  Her tongue pressed at her lips to ask, but she stilled it. She didn’t want to know what souvenirs Damon kept from his past, the things he’d planned to leave behind to taunt his family after his death. Maybe that princess in his vault was one of them. It chilled her to find out he and his brother had trophy-keeping in common. Maybe she risked being Bluebeard’s wife, but he hadn’t asked about the scars on her arms from when she wanted to die, nor had he asked Laszlo to remove them. For that, she felt allowing him his secrets was fair.

  “No, nothing as bad as you might think. No killing or harming people. And I haven’t hunted in a long time. After seeing a baby elephant crying to its mother.” He shook his head sharply. “I haven’t touched a gun since then.” He touched her hand. “I’m going to get rid of my hunting trophies, and give all the antiquities to their countries of origin. All the photos of indiscretions that would upset the Karls—mementos of excesses all over the world. I don’t need any of that any more.” He sighed and nestled his thumb into her palm.” This decided it. You, I’m changing because of you, too. I can’t be that man anymore, the trophy collector.”

  “I’m sorry about the news, and glad you’ve got evidence.”

  As he so often did, he seemed to read her mind.

  “There isn’t any chance that they’re still alive. The detective found photos, too. He had them analyzed to make sure they’re not deep fakes. He took great care so the case will be airtight. A jury mustn’t have any doubt. Without the photos, the trophies wouldn’t be enough to convict him. A defense attorney might argue that they were lost at sea, or taken by traffickers. The jewelry and photos of their bodies damn Fabian.” He hung his head. “I knew they were dead, but opening that packet, finding these. Seeing the pictures.” He took a long breath. “They were shot.”

  “I still don’t understand why.”

  “Neither do I.” Rage flared in his eyes. “Insecurity mostly, and jealousy, too. Our father loved them best.” He shrugged. It stung me, too sometimes, but I understood it. They were exquisite and smart, a credit to him, even through they didn’t bend to his power trips as much as he wanted. It wouldn’t have been unlike the old man to choose one of them over Fabian. He was a chauvinist, but he was also a homophobe. And no one can ever be discreet enough to keep anything potentially damning to the Karl empire from my father. With the trend toward hyphenated names, the female line is less overshadowed. Grace and Darla could still do the key thing that our father needs: carry on the bloodline and the family name. He might well have opted to attempt manipulating an alliance by marriage with another powerful family through his daughters in preference to having Fabian rule.”

  “He sounds so—closed, so calculating.”

  Damon snorted. “You’ve defined my father. If he even notices that none of us feel close to him, he’d never understand that using people instead of accepting them creates a load of distance and distrust.”

  “Yes,” Mandy nodded.

  “Huh. I’m more like him than I knew.”

  “At least you know it know. You can choose what kind of man you’ll be—you don’t have to be your father’s puppet.”

  His eyes flashed and his jaw clenched. Taking a slow breath, he closed his eyes. “Direct hit.” His gaze went inward. “I’ll never fully understand the horrible waste of Grace and Darla’s lives, but at least with the certainty of what happened to them, I can let go of all that ragged longing to find them alive.”

  She opened her arms to him, and he allowed her to draw him close.

  They held each other, finding their way to each other through all the pain.

  The chaste caring filled her, steadied her.

  There was still a lot to think about, but she felt safe here. After all of this, Damon Karl was being open with her at last.

  As the sun set on them holding each other on bed, the vision came to her. She raised her head and gazed out to sea. The stars gleamed over the offshore rock where the seabirds nested. The moon shone down on the dark water.

  “Damon.”

  “Yes, Mandy my love?”

  “Let’s sail around the world, for your sister Grace, and for us.”

  He rose on his elbow and searched her eyes. “That would be wonderful, a fantastic thing to do in her memory. She wanted to take gifts to sick and injured children all over the world. We could do that for her.” His voice dropped low, furred with emotion.

  “Yes, Damon. Let’s do it. We’ll fulfill her dream of sailing the world. We’ll share Darla ‘s songs on the journey,
too, and visit your wildlife preserves.”

  His smile made his eyes glow. “You really do want to save the world don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.” She rested her hand on his muscular abdomen. “One more thing?”

  He cocked his brow.

  Laughing, she put her finger on it and pushed it back down the way he’d once done to her.

  “You must take me to a haunted house, Damon Karl. Perhaps to many haunted places.” She gave him a seductive smile, flashing back to his boyhood date when he got arrested. No better place to meet the boy he’d been before his family twisted him.

  “Yes, my sweet love. We’ll go to many haunted houses, and we’ll sail all the seas—on your boat.”

  “Yes!” she crowed and climbed onto him, her hair falling around his face as she lowered her lips to his.

  He stroked her back and she settled back down beside him.

  “Looks like Kia’s ready for a walk.” She nuzzled the puppy.

  “Alright. I’m due to stretch my legs, too.”

  Mandy hurried out of the suite with the puppy, eager to get this part of her training right.

  Next, she wanted some alone time with Damon. There was more they needed to discuss.

  Emerging

  After taking her puppy for a potty break, they left Kia with Nicki for a trip to the village to visit her doggy family. Their eyes met over tall, sensual spears of scarlet ginger.

  They clasped hands and returned to Mandy’s suite.

  “Damon, in all the things you’ve told me, I feel like I’m finally getting to know you. But there’s something I still don’t understand.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why the whole body modification job, the interview, all of that?”

  He appraised her and tilted his head.

  “If I’d contacted you and said I wanted to help you financially, would you have allowed me to do so?”

  She bowed her head. “No.”

  “I thought not.”

  “So all of it was a set up, the ad, the, you know.” Her hand fluttered, she couldn’t say the things, couldn’t speak the intimate torments.

  “Oh, not all of it, Mandy. Far from it. The intimate requirements and your training was for me. Trust me. But yes, I intended you to see the ad as a lifeline and to reach for it. Once I got you in my lair, that’s been genuine, and immensely pleasurable. Believe me.”

  She blushed. The expression ‘beside herself’ came to have meaning. She could not have been more taken apart if he’d set out to ravage her world, her spirit. He’d done it totally.

  “You are—a monster.”

  “You’re right. I was a monster, Mandy. Now I’m only a man in love. I needed to help you. I needed to love you. And, I’m sorry, I needed to protect myself from you. You were a bright light. So, blazing. Even after everything, you have this spirit that shines.” He stroked her face with reverence.

  “And you’re the devil.”

  “Not quite.” His lip curved.

  She examined him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t displeased. He had to be ribbing her. Not quite a devil—.

  “A demon?” She whispered.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Enough metaphysics for one night.”

  “Enough? We haven’t—.”

  He pressed his finger across her lips. He pushed down hard, sending a jolt to her core.

  “Do you want me?” His husky whisper undid her.

  “Yes. Yes, Damon, I want you.”

  He kissed her tenderly.

  “Hard this time. I need you to take me hard.” She closed her eyes and whispered in his ear. “I love you, Damon.”

  “I was holding out for Master. Your magic words are better.”

  Her guess was right. Master. Things were different now. They were new to each other, and he was leveled. She could leave him and he knew it. Technically, she could leave him. Her heart refused the thought of ever being separated from this man who needed her like life.

  He kissed her brutally. His fingers grazed her tight nipples, her belly, and stroked her wet folds.

  “Mm, so wet. Good. I need to fuck you now.”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  His tongue gave her the roughness she sought, probing her mouth, fucking her face. His fingers tantalized her clit.

  She spread her legs. He had her and he knew it.

  A demon. He had to be joking.

  He opened her and thrust into her, driving so deep she felt he was hitting the back of her navel.

  She flung her head back, howling as he took her. Her hands fisted in the sheets to keep from ripping his back open. If she didn’t hold onto something, she might fly off the bed, she might hit the ceiling and keep on going.

  Her hair whipped and she panted, breath harsh in her throat, his cock stabs yanking her clit, his body riding high on her, forcing his cock full depth.

  His hand bunched in her hair, pulling it.

  She yelled. She pummeled his back, gone in lust, drumming her heels on the bed, gripping him in her body, sucking his cock into her.

  Pumping her hard, Damon gasped and roared, eyes wide as though he were leaving his body. He looked into her eyes and captured her throat with his huge hand, squeezing.

  She fought for breath. His cock angled deep, getting her right there, that tender place inside, making her rise and fall away.

  Free fall, so intense, tears raining hot, running down her face, their panting loud in her ears as a train, the two of them clinging together, shocked and rocking, his arching body sending his seed home deep inside her.

  His lips replaced his strangling hand. He kissed and bit her life vein.

  Purple and stars danced inside her and she clung to him, arms and legs and chin, connecting with his flesh, holding him, shaking and shaking.

  She dropped, collapsing onto the sheet, and he held her, crooning into her hair, keeping her safe in his arms.

  She didn’t want to be any where else, any farther away from him ever again.

  “I love you, Mandy.”

  “I know, Cliff.” She couldn’t resist. He still had making up to do.

  “Cliff? I guess I deserved that. You’re going to forgive me some day, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll get back to you on that.”

  He kissed her gently. “I love you so much.”

  She snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady fast thump of his heart.

  Not a demon, he couldn’t be. A wanderer, like her. A lost boy and girl. They’d come home. She swallowed. Maybe, she did still believe in miracles, in something beyond herself. Something had gone amazingly right in her life, at last.

  Many timeless breaths later, as she felt herself rocking on the boat she’d soon own, his finger traced her chest and made a slow circle around her navel. He nuzzled her ear.

  “I want to have a baby with you. You are perfect, just as you are, you’re perfect, Mandy. I want to spend my life with you.”

  “Do you mean it, Cliff?”

  “Cliff again?”

  “How does it feel? How do you like having someone else make up a name for you?”

  “Oh. I see. Mandy, I was wrong. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Can we start over?”

  “No. But we can—continue.”

  “Good. I want to do a lot of continuing with you.” His eyes blazed.

  “One thing. I want you to sit for me tomorrow.”

  “Sit?”

  “Hold still while I draw you.”

  A smile tugged the corner of his lips. “That sounds difficult. For you, I’ll do it.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” At last, he was giving up some control. With more room to have her say, she felt their future expanding around them.

  “You mean the world to me, Mandy. Keep telling me what I can do to make you happy. I mean it.”

  She shook as he trailed his fingertips down to her opening and eased two fingers into her.

  “Oh. That’s good.”
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  “Ready for more?”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  He plunged his fingers deep inside her, his thumb strumming her clit just right.

  “Damon.”

  He didn’t let up, he was going to make her come again, and she needed it.

  Grabbing him and digging in her nails, she arched, coming hard as he pumped her just the way she needed him to, hard, unrelenting, masterful.

  “Oh, oh, I’m squirting!” She fountained her first g-spot orgasm.

  “Beautiful!” Damon kissed her, taking and returning her breath.

  Gasping, soft and open beneath him, she held him tight.

  “Beautiful, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, and kissed her slowly, reverently.

  How could she ever be with any other man? He’d ruined her. “I can’t stand you.”

  “I know. But I’ll grow on you. You’ll see.” He gave her butterfly kisses along her jaw and rested his palm gently over her still pulsing clit.

  “Like fungus.”

  He chuckled. “You’re ready for more, aren’t you?” His eyes flashed.

  “Oh, yes.”

  He spread her legs wide and pulled her calves over his shoulders. He rammed his cock into her.

  She doubled up, his cock jabbing so hard she saw colors.

  “You fucker.”

  “Want more?” He held still, smiling his wicked smile.

  “You devil. My demon. Yes, more, fuck me more.”

  He fucked her, he fucked her with all his power, wringing cries from her that made her ache inside.

  She wanted him, damn him, she wanted him for life.

  Arching, fucking him back, she came undone, flashes going through her, the two of them beings of light spinning out with the stars.

  “You fucker, you fucker, you fucker.” She clung to him and cried against his chest.

  “Your fucker, Mandy, all yours.” Growling, he held her tight and shot deep inside her.

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.” He kissed her tears. “For always. Faithfully.”

  He cradled her to him, softening inside her, remaining joined and breathing with her.