Demon Dreams

by Nikki Sex

  Leonidas frowns, more confused than ever.

  “It’s like this, if Millicent’s parents felt she was worthless, you can bet her brothers or sisters treated her like shit.”

  “I see.”

  “A wise man named André Chevalier once said, ‘A person tends to believe whatever is repeated over and over, whether it is true or not.’”

  Leonidas says nothing.

  “After years of being tormented, told she’s stupid, useless or God knows what, that’s what she believes. Then there’s possible spells of deception, pain—who knows? I’m not surprised Millicent doesn’t easily trust. I doubt she believes her own mind. Hopefully, if you give her time and respect, she’ll chill out. Do you want me to visit her daily for a while?”

  “No. I will provide her a safe space, a room of her own, clothes—I shall find her a dog. You have shown me the way. I feared she would die. Now, I am confident she is safe in my hands.”

  “I never doubted she was safe with you.” I skim my fingers down his arm, for comfort, for camaraderie. Maybe just because I can.

  Leonidas no longer shrinks at my touch. Progress!

  “You’re a good person, Leonidas. Like Millicent, you’ve been lost. That’s why you’ll be able to understand what she’s going through. There’s no one better to help her return to herself.”

  “Thank you.” He tilts his head, studies me intently. “You are happy with the Beast Lord.”

  It’s a statement of truth, not a question—which is just as well.

  I don’t think I can answer! A zing of primal energy rolls through my body simply upon hearing his name. The sensory memory is so intense, I gasp. I could swear this delicious fullness I feel is the real deal.

  The scent of my mate clings to my skin.

  I taste his power, remember the feel of his tongue on my flesh.

  Anticipation is like a high-powered jolt of magic direct to the vein. This is no simple sexual buzz. This is chain lightning.

  I’m going home to Stafford, we’ll head straight to bed—unless we jump each other before we get there. It’s been hours since I’ve seen him. Every metaphysical safeguard I have is solidly in place, helping me to resist our bond. If I let go, he’ll feel me, mind, heart, and soul—just as I’ll feel him.

  I have a tremendously compelling urge to connect with him right now.

  This very second.

  I grin. “I’ve never been happier.”

  “I’m glad. I have brought you a present.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  In a blur of vampire speed, he flashes to the freezer and back. In his hand is a small Esky labeled ‘IVF Couriers.’ He places it on the coffee table.

  Leonidas brought my eggs!

  “These are cryogenically frozen,” he explains. “I thought you and Stafford may wish to start your family.”

  I throw my arms around his neck, kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you! Best present ever.” When I pull back, I read awkward self-consciousness, satisfaction, and deep pleasure in his heart-stopping blue gaze.

  “I have been distracted with other projects, but I will discover who took your eggs. I will return them to you.”

  “I know you will.”

  If anyone can find them my Jugulo can. But right now, I’m focused on the possibilities before me.

  I close my eyes, stop fighting the mating bond.

  Instantly, the smell of the Beast Lord, the sight, the feel of him fills my senses. My demon hums, my inner wolf howls. I sink into Stafford’s heat, his essence, his blood and his beast.

  “Jan.” With that one word, I hear Stafford communicate how much he loves me, needs me, can’t live without me.

  I feel the same about him.

  “Stafford, come get me.” My whole body singing, I ask the love of my life to pick me up just outside the Magic Lands.

  Man, we’re both a couple of mushy, gushy saps! But what can you do? It’s madness! It’s magic! It’s true luvvv.

  I wouldn’t change a thing.

  My Jugulo opens a door to the void, flashes me to where Stafford intends to pick me up. I can’t wait to get home, to him.

  Chapter 14.

  Millicent

  Millicent doesn’t move.

  Hyper-alert, she soundlessly waits. When she senses the powerful vampire and human sensitive have left the building, her body finally relaxes. The energy she’s been expending releases, ending her glamour.

  In a finger snap, her magical façade drops away.

  Millicent transforms into a beautiful young woman.

  Petite, pale skinned, her generous lips red as an open wound, she has no huge, ugly mole. Her faultless nose is straight, her face symmetrical, her figure the image of shapely feminine perfection. Even mussed and filthy, her long brown hair is a striking cascade of dark melted chocolate.

  “Come to me, my friends,” she sends.

  Raising an arm, opening her palm in preparation—several starlings fly into her cell, landing on her shoulders, head, and fingers.

  “Hello, beautiful ones,” she coos, as the birds’ chirp and preen excitedly. “You are real. That I know.”

  Vampires are heartless predators—that’s what she’d been taught since earliest childhood. Night hunters who manipulate weak-minded humans, cloud memories, feed on blood. A vampire as powerful as Leonidas could effortlessly make her believe all this is real, when it isn’t.

  Bloodsuckers are evil her parents told her. But if they said it, maybe it’s time to question that, too. What if this was her father’s plan all along? To make her think she’s a vampire?

  That idea preoccupies her mind, making her stomach churn.

  It’s maddening, not knowing what to believe. Her body grows cold, her thoughts scatter. Raw fear slides down her throat in a nauseous torrent, as unwelcome and terrifying as her new lust for blood.

  All I know is I know nothing.

  Millicent had lived in anticipation, looking forward to becoming a woman. To finally reach the age when she’d come into her psychic gifts. From her first menstrual cycle, she waited for her magic to reveal itself.

  Days, months, years went by.

  Nothing happened.

  When she proved to be barren of psychic ability, everything changed. Those she trusted, betrayed her. Like a wicked spell cast by the darkest demon, what once was love, turned to hate.

  Joy to sorrow.

  Dreams to dust.

  Growing self-confidence into dark doubt and despair.

  Countless times, her reality was intentionally turned upside down through vivid spells of illusion. At first it had been entertaining—teasing attempts to amuse, shock, frighten her into her power. Then came her parents’ resentment, disdain, and anger. Why had their last child been born without magic?

  Monsters, madness, danger. Sometimes these tricks of illusion were conjured. Sometimes, the nasty games played on her were real. As time went on they became more and more vicious.

  When she reacted, everyone pointed and laughed at her. Her feelings dismissed, to them, her pain was entertainment. It was all just good clean fun.

  “Hey, Millicent, can’t you take a joke?”

  Cruel laughter rings in her ears, flashbacks flow through her mind like an angry, overflowing river. Teasing. Tormenting. Painful, hurtful words by people she once cared for.

  Such terrible memories.

  Her handsome, older brother. She’d cherished his affection, hung on his every word. Loved by one and all, he had been particularly brutal. Snide remarks, torment and humiliation—all for shits and giggles.

  Stupid me. Like everyone else, I loved him.

  Millicent learned not to cry, not to trust, to cut herself off from emotion. To remain still. To take it. Never to respond.

  Such reactions only encouraged them to do more of the same.

  Am I a vampire?

  “We are doing this for you, Millicent.” Her father’s voice echoes in her mind. “A Sorcerers daughter with no magic, is an embarrassment, n
ot a daughter. You understand? I know it’s hard, but sometimes one must be cruel to be kind.”

  Is this place real? Or is this another attempt to scare me into my powers?

  Relegated to stable hand at the Regius Magnmus’s estate, she was treated like a slave. Rejected by her siblings, parents, and peers, Millicent turned to animals for friendship, connection, and love.

  Here and now, another possible explanation enters her mind.

  Maybe I am turned vampire. That might explain why I wield magic I’ve never commanded before.

  What Millicent never guessed was that unknowingly, she’d already embraced part of her gift. For years, her magic operated unconsciously. Her power had changed her, making her physically more and more ugly.

  After that first terrible time when she was sexually forced, her unappealing grotesque form kept rapists away. Was her hideous appearance an attempt at safety? A way to distance herself even further from others?

  All true.

  Yet that isn’t the whole truth. Millicent’s looks reflected how she felt while surrounded by her family. Ugly. Unwanted. Unloved.

  It was a realization.

  My psychic gift made my outside represent how I felt about myself on the inside.

  Closing her eyes, Millicent rubs her face against one of her feathered friends. All this time, I thought I was ugly, but I’m not ugly. Surrounded by so many new friends, I feel beautiful.

  What if this one time the illusion is true?

  What if what seems real is real?

  She remembers the sound of the woman’s heartbeat and how it called to her. The feel of her skin, the smell of her. Her blood was so rich and filling. Sweeter than honey, it tasted divine.

  The woman named Jan has given me a lot to think about.

  Chapter 15.

  Leonidas carries the IVF transport container as we step out of the void and into the chilly mid-autumn air, just outside the Magic Lands. Standing in the meadow, hyper-aware, I instantly feel a deep sense of well-being.

  My inner wolf huffs with expectation, my demon hums.

  He’s here.

  Stafford’s Dodge is parked off the road. There he is, waiting for me. His eyes glitter as they lock on to mine, but he says nothing.

  He doesn’t have to.

  One look says it all.

  A blast of mate-bonding power slams into me as I peer into his warm chocolate eyes. His smile makes me melt, his rugged good looks send desire into overdrive. His tough masculine presence, his Alpha beast, the way he makes me laugh—it all combines to make him irresistible.

  Most of all, it’s Stafford’s light, the positive aura of his essence that truly attracts me.

  I see him.

  He sees me.

  His soul is glowing, wondrous—and his magnificent wings! Nearly translucent, they emit luminous colors from each feather, changing hue and direction.

  Midnight blue.

  Shades of charcoal.

  Deep, dark ebony.

  Soft and shimmering, his feathers make a ruffling sound, somewhat like a hummingbird. Luckily, only I can hear and see his otherworldly wings. Human and paranormals alike would freak out.

  My beautiful dark angel. My tough, non-nonsense Beast Lord. I feel how difficult it is for Stafford to turn his focus away from me, and onto my vampire, but he makes it look easy.

  “Hey, Leo. How’s it hanging?” Stafford addresses my rather formal Jugulo, his sexy voice wraps around me like a warm blanket. The sound of my lover slides through our bond, his voice a soft caress.

  Leonidas scowls. “Must you call me Leo?”

  “It’s either that, or bloodsucker.”

  My vampire opens his mouth, closes it again. Sighing, he drops the subject. I think Leonidas is trying to develop a sense of humor, but his heart's not in it. His hasn’t been a light-hearted, fun-filled, positive existence.

  Oddly, my shifter and my vampire enjoy each other’s company. For various reasons, they don’t want anyone to know. During a recent near-death experience, my vampire was forced to feed from the Beast Lord. Highly pleasurable, instantly, relentlessly orgasmic, my sweetie is still coming to terms with this man on man action—not that there was any real action, per se.

  Technically, Leonidas did suck on Stafford, but a penis wasn’t involved. Those that offer a vein to my vampire experience over-the-top, toe-curling, full-body, rock-your-world, multiple orgasms. “Cums” with the territory, so to speak.

  Stafford raises an eyebrow. “Is Millicent OK?”

  “I believe so. Your mate has been of great assistance.”

  Leonidas says nothing more, but his tone is thick with implication. He believes his shifter pal is lucky. My vampire told Stafford that as my mate, he would protect him with his life—but that doesn’t include ass kissing obedience. My vampire’s priority is all about me.

  Leonidas’s innermost circle has expanded now he’s blood bound with John, and sire to Millicent. My once isolated Jugulo has been growing deep roots, creating a family, of sorts. Who says you can’t teach an old bloodsucker new tricks?

  Stafford gestures to the IVF container. “What’ve you got there?”

  Instantly, no words needed, he knows. Turning to me, his eyes glow like burnished gold as they burn a trail of energy over my body. Like me, my mate’s always longed for children.

  “That’s them? You brought them?”

  I grin. “I did, yes, thanks to Leonidas.”

  Overwhelming joy. Love. Excitement. A strong compulsion surges through him, an impulse I feel. He aches to swing me up in his arms and ravish me. His beast is fully on board, but his reserved British upbringing helps him resist the urge.

  Our thoughts are online—faster than high speed computer data transfer—while our bodies are attuned to every nuance, every shift. My mate knows how much I want him, lust has a distinct scent. I feel his heat, see the bulge in his jeans.

  Oh yeah, he’s happy to see me.

  He’s always happy to see me.

  Leonidas hands him the container. Stafford nods his thanks, turns to meet my gaze. He waggles his dark eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Let’s go home and make babies.”

  I laugh. “Let’s.”

  Gentleman that he is, my mate opens the passenger door to his truck for me. I casually saunter over, purposefully rub against him, hop up on the seat. He brushes a kiss across my lips, then pulls back to shoot me a devilish grin. Opening the door behind me, Stafford secures a seatbelt around the IVF container so it won’t tip over.

  “Thanks, Leonidas. You’re the best,” I send to my loyal vampire.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Call if you need me.”

  “As you wish. Farewell.” Then, he’s gone.

  In Stafford’s world, Leonidas is already forgotten.

  The Beast Lord hasn’t taken his eyes off me. His long, focused look makes my heart speed. He stares with passion and hunger, combined with his incredible self-control. I long to push him over the edge. Like floodwaters breaking through a dam, I want a 65-foot tidal wave of overpowering lust to slam into him, sweeping everything else from his mind.

  And it will.

  Well, maybe not while he's driving, but soon.

  Chapter 16.

  Stafford’s T-shirt tightens against his biceps when they flex on the gear shift. He starts the truck, presses the accelerator so hard, wheels spin, dirt flies. The man’s in a hurry to get home.

  So am I.

  “I could do you right here and now,” I say above the roar of the engine.

  “Yeah?” He snorts, his gaze fixed on the road. “Don’t tempt me.”

  I slant him a teasing smirk. “Why not?”

  Christ, I long for his hands, his tongue, his mouth. I need to feel his muscular body coil, to hear the deep, masculine sounds he makes when he finally allows himself to let go.

  For a powerful paranormal like the Beast Lord, losing control is dangerous and forbidden. Letting go with his mate is a dark, primal need. I
’m the reason for his wild abandon. When his formidable control does slip, it’s only because of me.

  What a heady rush.

  I slide closer to him, skim my hand up his rock-hard thigh. He takes in a fast breath as I stroke another rock-hard part of his body.

  “You won’t want to be doing that as we cross the witch’s ward.”

  “Yeah? Well, I think I do.”

  With a quick snort and snicker, I throw caution to the wind. This is going to be some ride. Unzipping his jeans, I grab Stafford’s “gear shift” and go for it.

  He growls and bites out a curse as I revel in the smooth warm hard feel of him. Get ahold of a guy’s gear shaft—er, shift—whatever, and hear him rev!

  Like me, the man is in overdrive from the first touch. Should I throttle back? Or keep hold of his stick?

  That’s when we enter the enchanted barrier.

  Crossing into the Magic Lands is always a hoot. The ward lets you re-experience the best moments from your past. As newly mated to the Beast Lord—the Alpha in charge of the protective spell, I anticipate an extra special occasion.

  Will I relive Stafford’s memories as well as my own? Maybe I’ll get to relive the happy times we’ve shared together.

  Considering how aroused we are, and the fact I have my hand around his huge erection—I’m expecting a boat load of sexual memories, superhot and fun.

  Boy, how wrong could I be?

  As we enter the Magic Lands enchantment, initially, it’s similar to the void. Nothing to see. No sound. No taste or smell—just a sense of raw energy.

  I smell lavender, fleetingly remember my mother.

  Cool! Through Stafford’s eyes, I recall a cold, sunny stream, the soft, squishy feel of frogs in my young hands. The distinctive awareness of myself as a young boy fills my senses.

  Images, feelings, and memories from my mate roar to the surface of my mind.

  I revisit our passionate affair as we crossed the Atlantic in 1928 from his point of view. His first sight of me, the smell of my hair, falling in love, teasing, tickling each other. His guard down, he’d acted goofy and irreverent—finally letting go of his dogged, English dignity.