by Anne, Melody
Vyco looked across the cave at Jessica. She’d turned out to be quite the addition to his team. Her full recovery had been his doing, and now she was chained to him — willing to submit to his every need. She’d been his before he’d saved her, but now her loyalty was complete.
Never before had he been so enamored with a female. Normally, he wasn’t satisfied. There was never enough blood, killing, deception, or physical pleasure to keep him content.
Jessica fulfilled a need in him no other had been able to. He’d considered making her his queen, allowing her to rule by his side. She’d like that — the power. She already had his demons trembling in fear of her. Her temper had killed quite a few of them. Vyco delighted in the pleasure she took from plunging a knife deep into a body — whether it was mortal or demon.
“Come,” he beckoned her, his voice easily carrying across the vast cavern.
“Of course, my liege,” she murmured huskily as she began sauntering in his direction, the sway of her feminine hips capturing his gaze.
Vyco had just returned from the surface, looking more mortal than demon. She preferred his demonic appearance, his red eyes and glowing skin; showing the power of his demonic form sent a thrill through her. To teach her she wasn’t the one in charge, he didn’t change back. A pleasuring sensation surged through him at the thought of how she hadn't submitted fully yet. It gave him the opportunity to punish her — and punishing her gave him as much pleasure as taking her body.
Vyco’s eyes of darkness didn’t leave Jessica as she sashayed toward him, her top revealing more than it was hiding, her skirt barely covering her rounded backside. The dark princess seductively allowed her hips to swing from right to left as her smooth satin legs slowly brought her closer.
Blood red lipstick covered her luscious lips, sending desire straight to his groin. He wanted to bite down on them, produce blood to coat their surface. He had to be careful to hold himself back so he wouldn’t destroy her as he had with so many others.
It was difficult because she liked the punishment he inflicted on her. She was truly a masterpiece — a fascinating mortal work of art. A smile formed on Vyco’s lips at the thought. He liked taking anyone from the side of light. He liked corrupting anything good within someone. It was usually so easy.
“I can see I’m pleasing you, my lord,” she said, a husky tremble to her tone as she stepped in front of him, just a hair away so he could feel her heat surround him, smell her sweet scent, and hear the rhythm of her rapid pulse.
“Very much, Jessica. It’s been a few days,” he said absent-mindedly, focusing on keeping his demeanor nonchalant, though it took more control than he cared to admit. He absolutely couldn’t let her see the power she held over him. She was too smart not to use anything she deemed as weakness to her advantage — one reason he wanted her so much. He couldn’t allow the power to shift to her court, as it would change the game.
His eyes traveled down her long, slender neck, taking in her ample cleavage, then he stepped back to admire her exposed stomach and tight skirt. It was obvious she had nothing to obstruct him from possessing her.
He smiled as lust ravaged his body, and he tensed in anticipation of the strike. He hoped he never grew bored of her, because in his endless life, he’d never before found a woman who aroused in him such intense feeling — he feared it wouldn’t happen again.
“If you want me so badly . . . take me,” she demanded as she stepped back, leaving a couple of feet between them as she lifted her hands, gliding them through her hair, letting the strands drift through her fingertips, before allowing the dark tresses to fall down her back. Her hands then moved to her hips, where they slid along her flat stomach before moving upward and gripping her breasts, squeezing them as her neck rolled back and she groaned through parted red lips.
She cracked her eyes to look directly at his, and briefly observing his reaction, she turned, exposing her delectable backside to him as she stepped farther away on her five-inch stiletto heels that were the same color as her lips.
Vyco had the world at his fingertips — demons worshiped him, immortals feared him, and humans were willing to do whatever he wanted — but in those few moments, he felt his power drain, felt his need of the petite woman before him overtake his body.
She was dangerous — more dangerous than anything he’d ever faced. He should slaughter her, strike her down, and laugh as she took her last breath. The thought filled him with an unnamed emotion. He couldn’t seem to make himself do it. Maybe . . . yes, eventually he would. He’d toy with her for now, but he’d keep an eagle eye out. If she realized her power over him, he’d have no choice but to end her immortality.
That would come later.
She wanted to tease him right now, a game he was always more than willing to play. Oh, how he’d enjoy her upcoming punishment. She’d pay for the throbbing she caused in his body — and she’d delight in every minute of the torture he put her through.
With a purposeful stride, he caught her in seconds, flipping her around to face him as he sent them flying through the room until he had her pressed against the hard granite of the cave wall. He ground himself against her as her face lifted to receive his kiss. His hands reached around, and he pulled her legs up, sliding along her sensual thighs.
He slapped her exposed skin, feeling heat in his palm from the force of the hit. Her mouth opened with a groan as his head descended and took her lips with his, finally clamping his teeth down on her delicate skin. He bit until he tasted the slight metallic flavor of her blood, then backed off as his tongue slipped out to lick it up.
He felt himself losing control, his body shifting as hunger fully took over. His body shook as he began turning, his mortal mask fading as red coloring consumed his face. Jessica opened her eyes and gazed at him with lust as her hand reached up and caressed the physical signs of his true darkness. The longer he’d been the dark lord of the underworld, the more he’d transformed. He could shift his body, change to appear like anyone else, but he couldn’t hide who he truly was when he was in the throes of passion. He didn’t want to hide it. He embraced his darkness.
“Oh, my liege,” she groaned as she pressed even closer against him. His hand came back and slapped her again — hard, causing her body to bounce against him.
“You need punishment before you can receive pleasure,” he muttered as he gripped her closer.
“Yes! Please!” she cried.
So eager — she was always so eager. With great reluctance, he placed her on the ground, the sound of her distressed whimper music to his ears.
“Crawl ahead of me so I can enjoy the view,” he commanded.
With a pout, she turned and edged forward, not bothering to lower her skirt, letting him watch the naked sway of her rounded backside as they moved down the hall to his den. His blood sizzled as they entered the room and he grabbed her by the hair.
In a matter of seconds he had her locked tightly to the wall in shackles, unable to move. As his whip arched through the air, and the familiar slap of leather striking tight skin echoed through the cavern along with her groans, Vyco let himself go, his body exploding.
The night was only just beginning . . .
Chapter Eight
*** Elise ***
Elise Winters moved quietly through the deserted street, trying to make it home quickly while holding her breath as the scent of decaying flesh and rotten garbage drifted all around her. The wind was picking up, sending a chill straight to her bones, since she didn’t have enough clothing to protect her from the elements, and certainly hadn’t eaten enough to keep any amount of fat on her malnourished body.
Everything she found went to the kids — everything. She only took enough to survive, because if they lost her, they couldn’t possibly make it on their own. Survival was her only thought as she raced through the streets, listening for any sound indicating danger was near.
She’d been hoping to find a jacket, even a sweate
r. The neighborhood they were in was just too barren. It had been raided already and not so much as a pair of socks remained, let alone any food. They’d have to leave — that night. She dreaded taking the kids back out, but she was left with no choice. If they didn’t leave soon they’d die. If not from hunger, then from the enemy soldiers. They were near — too near.
She turned a corner, just about home, when a loud popping noise froze her in place. Her heart thundered, and adrenaline flooded every muscle as she strained her eyes in the dark, looking for the source of the sound.
There was no other movement, so with new urgency, she picked up her pace and raced the familiar path back to her temporary dwelling. It was a rundown shack of a home in an even worse neighborhood. It was in such bad condition the enemy soldiers hadn’t felt the need to burn it to the ground yet. She knew they would. They wouldn’t even consider keeping such a broken-down area as part of their new world.
She’d learned a lot from being on the run. First and foremost was to never get caught. She’d met women who’d managed to get away, and the stories they told were terrifying. Women were slaves — nothing more, and their age didn’t matter. Elise had two girls with her — her own eight-year-old daughter and a lost girl she’d found, only six. Caring for the two girls and her ten-year-old son, and Mikey, another orphaned child of the war, was too much to handle. A shudder raced over her at the thought of what torture they’d put the kids through if they got their hands on them.
The enemy didn’t care about anything but their own needs. Those needs could be met by anyone or anything at any time. They were monsters.
She turned another corner and breathed a sigh of relief. She could see the house. Continuing in that direction, her eyes scanned the dark neighborhood, her ears listening for the smallest of noises. She could hear rodents scampering along the ground, the sound of their teeth ripping into waste and possibly each other.
Somewhere not too far away, she heard a cat cry out and then the sound of two of them fighting over something, the noise sending goosebumps along her skin. She’d always hated the howling noise of fighting cats, the sound almost supernatural. An owl hooted from a nearby tree, making its presence known, its beady eyes most likely focused on one of the rodents overtaking the cities. She welcomed the night predator to help clean up the infested streets.
During the day she’d be able to see the details around her, not that she wanted to. She’d much rather pretend none of this was happening — that she was simply outside taking an evening stroll while her husband helped the kids with their math homework.
It had been years since she’d slept in the comfort of a warm bed, peacefully resting in the safety and comfort of her husband’s arms. Her husband, Jed, had been shot right in front of her, dropping to his knees as a man in uniform laughed while telling him that he’d enjoy his wife and daughter while he lay dead on the doorstep.
The soldier had lifted his gun to shoot Jed when her husband had lifted his own gun with his last bit of strength and ended the soldier’s life. She’d never forget Jed’s dying words.
“I’m so sorry to leave you, Elise, you and our precious kids. You can’t stay. Take the kids and run. Remember what we planned. I love you . . .”
His final words had gurgled through blood dripping from his mouth. She’d sobbed as she kissed him goodbye. The only thing that had gotten her off her knees was her two children, who were hiding in a cupboard in the house.
Going on autopilot, Elise had gathered her kids and had run to the large shed at the back of their property that held a modified ATV. It was already loaded with enough supplies for them to get to their cabin, which was two days away, traveling sixteen hours a day. Jed had quieted the engine and added an extra fuel tank in preparation for a day such as this.
He’d always been a survivalist, preparing for anything, but when talk of war had surfaced, he’d prepared even more. Because they’d lived in the country, away from the city, they’d had a bit more warning than most . . . but not enough. They’d been ready to leave together when that soldier had forced his way onto their steps.
Her life hadn’t been the same since. If only they’d left thirty minutes earlier, she’d still have her husband. He would’ve kept them safe, figured out where to take them, how to keep them alive. She’d managed to stay in their hidden cabin in the woods for a year, never being found — then the food had run out.
She’d tried hunting and failed, not being able to capture fresh meat. Her husband had always been the one to do that, and she had relied on his knowledge and skills, never believing the world would come to an end without him by her side. As she ducked inside a dirty alley to enter a disgusting house, she was filled with regret that she hadn’t listened when her husband had tried to teach her. If she had, she could probably still be safe in their cabin, instead of scampering through disease-filled streets and living in a dump.
Lonely, but safe — and even more importantly, her kids would be healthy, not skin and bones. She shook off the negative thoughts. They did her no good, and there wasn't time for her to dwell in the past. She was in the present — whether she liked it or not.
She paused and listened as she approached her makeshift home. It didn’t look like anyone had been around, but she was extra cautious these days. She wanted to make sure she hadn’t been followed. If she led the enemy back to her kids, she wouldn’t be able to survive the guilt — that is, if they survived being captured in the first place.
Something was wrong. She could feel it. She didn’t see anyone, hear a sound, or feel a presence, but something wasn’t right. In this new world she'd learned to listen to her instincts. If her flesh was breaking out in goosebumps and her heart was slamming against her chest, she needed to pay heed.
She passed her house and moved to the next one over, her feet silently gliding across the ground. She paused, still as a ghost — almost feeling like one in her panic. How much easier would it be to give up? Curl up in a ball in the cold home and wait for death to take her?
If she didn’t have children counting on her, she was afraid that’s exactly what she would do. She was tired of running, exhausted from scavenging for every meal. She was done with this new life she’d been thrust into.
Before the war she’d been comfortable, happy, having a life most would envy. Her husband was a brilliant scientist, and she’d been a happy stay-at-home mother. Her days had been filled with PTA meetings, scout camps, and cookie sales. She’d been happy, content, at ease.
The little bit of saliva in her mouth dried as she breathed heavily, keeping the deep shuddering breaths as quiet as possible. She approached the neighbor's sagging fence and looked for a foothold. She’d crawl over and make her way back to the house that way. If she was being followed, she hoped they’d lose the trail.
Finally managing to find a place to step up, she launched herself over the fence, wincing when a dull thud echoed through the small yard. She knelt on the ground, motionless as she waited for a gunshot to ring through the air, splitting the fence wide open while ripping holes through her body.
When no gunfire sounded after a full minute, Elise let out a relieved breath as she started running across the yard. There was a loose board separating this yard from the home her children were in. She gently eased it back, wincing when a caught nail made an eerily loud squeal that seemed to echo through the black night. She paused again before pushing through into her backyard.
No light could be seen through the boarded windows. All of the houses in the neighborhood looked the same as the people had tried to hole themselves inside — and stay out of danger. The enemy soldiers had broken through doors, killing those who resisted, capturing those they wanted as slaves.
Elise had walked into one home, then right back out, not wanting her children to see the blood-smeared floors and walls. It was too much. Some places she’d avoided, smelling the odor of death in the air. Most likely dead bodies were left to rot in the homes. By this ti
me they were probably nothing more than bones and fabric, but she wasn’t taking the risk. Besides, there would be too many creatures to fight in a home like that. Rats, roaches, and other creatures owned the places now.
The home she was residing in hadn’t had any food, bodies, or much furniture, so luckily the rodents and bugs had moved on to better pickings. She moved around the side of the house where a barely visible line was in the siding. She extended her hand until she could feel the small notch she was looking for, then tugged at it, opening the space about eight inches. She squeezed herself through, then slowly crept along the hallway until she made it to the back room where they all slept. Using the entire house was far too risky. They were better off sticking together in one room. It helped them all stay warmer too, with the benefit of body heat radiating from one to the other.
“Momma, is that you?” A soft voice drifted through the stark room.
“Yes, baby. I’m back.” She made sure to keep her voice upbeat. They were already frightened, already had their childhood taken away. It was no life for them to hide for hours on end in a cold, dank room, not allowed to play, talk, or ever laugh. What good was it to be alive if they weren’t allowed to live?
She could feel how close she was to giving up. It scared her more than the soldiers at that moment. She had to somehow shake off this feeling of being an utter failure.
“Did you get food? I’m so hungry, Mama,” her son, Gabe, asked, shattering her already broken heart.
“My tummy hurts,” Cheryl added, reminding Elise that she wasn’t doing a very good job of caring for the young girl she’d saved only six months earlier.
“I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. There’s nothing left here, and I couldn’t go any farther away from you guys to search. I have this small stash of peanuts left,” she said as she clicked on her dim flashlight.
She looked around at the hopeful, filthy faces of her children and the two kids she’d rescued. She hadn’t had enough food to feed her own kids, but she couldn’t see starving children alone on the street and leave them there, knowing they’d either die or be captured. It would haunt her for the rest of her life — however long that might be.
