The Minotaur’s Kiss
Erin St. Charles
Copyright © 2018 by Erin Martin
The Minotaur’s Kiss
Gods and Concubines #1
"The gods must be crazy" -- An ancient human aphorism.
Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill
Formatted by Toni Jackson
ISBN-13: 978-1-7323959-0-9
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or within the public domain. Any resemblance to actual events or actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
No portion of this book may be reprinted, including by any electronic or mechanical means, or in information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission for the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
Free Vector Art by Vecteezy.com
To Jeff, Chris, and Charlotte. Thank you for teaching me that love is a verb, not just a noun.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Prologue
"The gods must be crazy" -- An ancient human aphorism.
Before recorded history, Earth was settled by a small contingent of extraterrestrial refugees, fleeing persecution on their homeworld. These aliens--reclusive, inventive and long-lived--possessed technology far beyond what the native humans could comprehend. These aliens quietly settled into the human population.
Using their advanced technology and biological samples collected during their travels, the aliens set about manipulating the local inhabitants to suit their needs, creating servant classes with unusual traits to protect the gods and their privileged place in society:
Shifters can transform into animals, while retaining human-level intelligence, to protect the gods' physical realms.
Latents are endowed with psychic clair abilities, such as clairvoyance, astral projection, clairscent, and so on, to protect the gods' psychological realms.
Concubines are the human childbearers to the gods, whose alien bloodlines have been compromised by millennia of inbreeding.
Demis are the children of the gods and their human concubines. They are more intelligent and live longer than most humans, but otherwise lack any of their fathers' creative powers.
The gods coexisted peacefully with humankind, acquiring vast wealth and founding Pantheon, a huge multinational conglomerate, to hide their assets from the prying eyes of the human population.
Until Prometheus.
In 1870, the gods and their secrets were betrayed by one of their own in what became known as the Prometheus Incident. Shifters were exposed, earning the suspicions of their human neighbors and leading to decades of segregation and forced relocation to reservations. Latents went underground, slipping into the human population to the extent that their unique culture was lost.
Concubines and their demi offspring were given official legal protection for the first time in history, leading to the legalized sex trade and with it, the armies of social workers, protectors and the other industries created to protect and serve them.
These are the stories of the shifters and latents, the gods and their concubines.
Chapter 1
Thursday, September 7, 2079. Dusk.
Mac Bodie couldn't take his eyes off the woman standing on the pergola, performing for a crowd of semi-inebriated partygoers. So, he didn't. He just kept staring at her, letting her husky voice roll over him in soulful waves.
Mac thought the only thing that almost made being a Minotaur worth the hassle was the eyesight. Even in his human form, he had a 300-degree visual field that gave him the ability to see almost everything in his periphery without looking directly at it: the groups of people milling around the pool and the pergola, the expanse of lush green lawn, the tall hedges around him. No one ever got close to him without him knowing it. And no one touched him without him wanting it.
This came in handy at work functions like this one when forced camaraderie ruled the day.
"I'm tired of you blowing us off," Jacob, his mentor, had said when he invited Mac to the party. "Come to the barbecue, Alma is expecting you."
It was hard to say no to the mentor who had helped Mac channel his adolescent shifter energies into law enforcement and later, personal protection. Thursday night was Pool Night, the weekly gathering of shifters working in the security and protection agencies in the city. Jacob had been a regular attendee--up until the time he met and mated his wife, Alma.
Now Jacob threw parties with his wife and expected Mac, his protegee, to attend. And so here he was, nursing a drink so potent the fumes bit his nose and made his eyes water.
The singer's beautiful bronze skin shone in the intimate lights strung on the pergola. Her blue dress shifted over her body like a whisper, making him wonder what the material would feel like kissing the back of his hand as he palmed her generous ass. The karaoke machine had been in use all evening, even more so as the event wore on and everyone got drunker.
She finished her song, then turned away from the audience, stroking a thin silver band at her wrist, engaging her Omni universal communications device. It projected a holographic screen a few inches in front of her, illuminating her profile like a halo. She flipped through the holographic screen. Reddish hair piled up high on her head in a twist exposed an elegant neck and emphasized graceful shoulders. Something inside him stirred to agitation as he took her in. He wanted to see the rest of her.
Turn around. Turn around.
He repeated it like a mantra in his head as his lips moved as if somehow willing it with his mind would cause the woman to turn around.
"Turn around."
His own voice, low and rumbling, spoke the words out loud. He sat up in his chair, momentarily forgetting his wide field of vision, and looked around to see if anyone had heard him.
Then she did turn around, and his heart skipped a beat.
She had a classic hourglass figure: round hips and thighs, tiny waist, nice rack showcased by a vee neckline. The texture of her hair, her skin tone, and her curves suggested African and Caucasian ancestry. He couldn't tell what color her eyes were, but he was determined to find out.
She held the microphone close to her mouth, and her eyes widened in surprise when the speakers shrieked with feedback. She smiled, bringing out the apples of her cheeks, and began to sing a song he didn'
t' recognize, purring out the words in a gritty contralto that rang visceral and true.
Like others of his kind, Mac was a keen observer of other people's emotions, which helped him read body language and unspoken intentions. The woman's emotions came through in her song, and his attention narrowed on her. The world fell away, and her voice slid over him in crashing waves.
How did that voice sound when she moaned in ecstasy?
Mac abandoned his plan to leave early. The woman started another song. She made eye contact with the audience, but her voice faltered when her eyes landed on Mac.
Can she see my eyes shine in the gloom?
All shifters reflect eyeshine in low light, but the effect is not visible to humans. The woman's eyes did not reflect back at him, so she wasn't a shifter. But had she seen him in the dark?
She recovered and belted out the closing notes of the song amid wolf whistles and cheers. She grinned and bowed, fanning herself with her hand. A man approached her on wobbly legs, sliding his hand around her waist and going in for a kiss. She made a quick sidestep and gave the asshole a bright smile, which dissolved the moment she turned away. Mac chuckled to himself at the exchange.
The woman headed for the sliding doors leading into the house, and Mac hopped out of his chair, grabbed two bottles of water from a nearby table, and followed.
In the kitchen, the conversation stopped abruptly as all eyes swiveled and fixed on Mac's tall, beefy build. At 6'7", he was used to getting second looks wherever he went, so he nodded at no one in particular and went through the open doorway into a brightly lit foyer. Empty. He paused, thinking of how she had fanned herself, and headed for the front door. The house faced a park with a walking trail, and that's where she was, sitting on a park bench with her back turned to the house.
He realized at the same moment he found her that he had no idea what to say to her. He should have paid better attention in the socialization classes they made young Minotaurs take.
"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" he said.
Chapter 2
Diana turned and stood up, startled, to find a handsome man holding out a bottle of water. If his height didn't give away his ancestry, his scent certainly would. He smelled just like burning wood.
Shifter.
He was so tall--at least six inches taller than her own six feet. Big and bulky--the kind of man who could fill her doorway. She crossed her arms under her breasts. She had been planning to leave soon, after putting in an appearance at her boss's party, but this man might convince her to change her plans.
"Not the most original pick-up line I've heard," she said.
"Excuse me?"
The man came closer, and she took in his features. His high cheekbones, full lips, and smooth olive complexion were hard to look away from. Eyeshine reflected white in the gathering dusk. She took the bottle from him.
Too handsome. Too magnetic. Her latent clair abilities allowed her to see and scent shifters, but she couldn't tell his species.
"It is if you like hot weather."
He looked confused.
"You said, 'beautiful evening, isn't it?' The weather's great, if you like it hot."
His lips quirked at her sarcasm. "I enjoyed your performance. Thought you might need one of those."
He held up a bottle of water.
"Ah... yes. Thank you," she mumbled, tripping over her words. This man must be the owner of the blazing white eyes she'd seen when she was singing. And now he was hitting on her.
She looked him up and down. His lips quirked again, then he held out a hand to her.
"I'm Mac. I'm a friend of Jacob's," he said. "I'm harmless."
She relaxed her shoulders, twisted open the bottle, and took a long drink, keeping her eyes on him. If he was at the party and he knew Jacob, he was probably safe, and it was unlikely that the authorities would find her lifeless body days or weeks from now, at the bottom of some ravine...
He gave her a sly smile and chuckled.
"It's just water. You broke the seal when you opened it. I didn't tamper with it."
She couldn't hold back her smile. She didn't even try. "You a mind reader?" she cocked an eyebrow at him.
"No, just...perceptive."
She tilted her head to one side. "Is that right?"
Flirting. She was flirting with this man. She'd been off the market until recently when her boyfriend had gotten tired of her workaholism and dumped her.
"If you don't like warm weather, what are you doing in Texas?"
Thinking of the shitty week she'd just had, which included shutting down a brothel on her beat, she said, “I ask myself the same thing sometimes."
He held out his hand, and she took it. His hands were huge and paw-like, warm and a little calloused, and all at once, she imagined how they would feel sliding over her skin. A jolt of attraction zipped through her, and her skin prickled with an all-body blush. His scent washed over her in percussive waves.
"I'm Diana. I'm a social worker. I work for Jacob, doing inspections and looking after the working girls on Harry Hines," she said, continuing to shake his hand. He smiled, and a jolt of electricity went through her.
Good gravy, this man is hot!
"Did I pass your inspection?"
"I don't know yet."
He laughed. "What do I have to do to pass?"
"Keep talking, and I'll let you know."
He chuckled. "What did I do to make you so suspicious?"
"You're a stranger in the dark. Why wouldn't I be suspicious?" He was probably used to women falling at his feet. She enjoyed putting him in his place.
"But we aren't strangers anymore. Hell, we're on a first-name basis." He was looking right into her eyes now, his body posture dominant. Instead of being scared, she was turned on.
Diana's shifter clients were mostly prostitutes and pimps, and she was well acquainted with their wiles. In the beginning, the clients had hazed her mercilessly, until she had learned to stop reacting to the blatant sexual displays, the crude comments, the attempts to beguile her. Time and anti-pheromone tinctures from her personal alchemist kept Diana's own urges in check.
But this shifter thrilled her, stirring to life desires she hadn't felt since long before her recent breakup. Nothing seemed to matter more than to get closer to this man, who was clearly into her.
Diana needed to unwind. Three years as a field supervisor should have placed her first in line for the area supervisor's job, but it didn't. She could let her work situation ruin her evening, or she could get laid and worry about her career later. Diana turned and walked away slowly, giving him her back--and everything that went with it. She looked over her shoulder at him. An invitation. She took a few steps down the walking path, smiling when she heard his footsteps behind her.
He assumed a protective stance, falling into an easy stride just inside of her personal space. His presence wrapped around her like a lover's embrace.
He offered her the crook of his arm, and she took it.
Chapter 3
By the time Mac pulled his truck to a stop in front of Diana's house, she had completely talked herself into a night of tangled sheets fun with the shifter. It was time to cut loose and enjoy herself for once and stop trying to please everyone but herself. Monday would come soon enough. She would worry about how to get her career back on track later.
"Nice house," he said, cutting the engine and leaning over her. He stopped when his lips were less than an inch from hers.
"Do you want me to invite you in?" This flirting thing was easier than she thought.
She kissed him, opening for the invasion of his rough tongue. His scent intensified when he was horny, and now it hung in the cab of his truck like a cloud. He deepened the kiss, and she let her legs fall open, her own scent of arousal mixing with his in the confined space. He started to surge toward her, body on edge and stiff with tension, and she put her hand on his chest. She broke the kiss and leaned back, tracing the curves of his lips with her fingertips.
>
"You asked me what I wanted," she started. "I want you to come in. But I want to make something clear first. I want to have fun with you tonight. Then I want us to say goodbye, okay?"
There. She'd said it.
Mac smiled and nodded. He looked relieved. "So you just want me for my body?"
Chuckling, she pulled up her health records on her Omni and suggested he do the same. They were both clean, and her birth control was up to date.
She opened her door and stepped out, then looked over her shoulder. Mac caught up with her just as she pressed her thumb to the fingerprint sensitive lock at her front door.
"Nice place," he said.
She rolled her eyes at him and smirked. "You already said that."
She slid off her shoes, and without the impressive stilettos, he towered over her. As tall as she was, it was nice to be with a man so much taller than she. He made her feel small and womanly in his arms. She kissed him again, then teased him with a trail of blue clothing from the living room to the bedroom down the hall, swaying her hips as she went. Her heart jumped in anticipation when she heard his heavy footsteps and the zing of his jeans unzipping behind her.
She yelped when his arm went around her waist, and he yanked her into his hard chest...and erection. He twirled her around and covered her mouth with his, forcing her lips apart with his tongue, delving deep and tasting her. She moaned into his mouth and gave into the sensation of him holding her. Then he hitched her up and pressed her into the wall, and she wound her legs around his waist and opened her mouth to him. He tasted like rum, and his kisses made her bones turn to silly putty.
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