by Wood, Vivian
No, that was only every human and Kith he’d ever met.
Ephraim rubbed a hand over his face, his weariness making him feel overemotional and melodramatic.
“I’m going for a swim before I rest,” he told Sophie. He needed to clear his head. “Make yourself comfortable, okay?”
He didn’t wait for a response, heading down a grand sandstone staircase and tugging his shirt off as he went. He stripped down to his boxer briefs, uncaring whether Sophie got an eyeful or not. He was overwhelmed and raw right now, he couldn’t worry about her right now.
Shouldn’t worry about her at all, in fact. Therein lay the problem.
The water was the perfect temperature when he dove in, just this side of refreshing. The sun had warmed the top and left the deeper recesses crisp and cool, and just the feel of the water on his skin was like sucking in a life-saving breath just when he felt he was drowning.
He did a dozen laps, slow and methodical, the exercise burning his tired muscles but acting as a balm for his overwrought mind. It was meditative for him, and he slipped so far into his own world that the sound of splashing water jolted him mid-stroke.
Ephraim surfaced to find Sophie wading in, wearing what looked like nothing but one of his t-shirts. The thin cotton was already damp around her breasts and hips, clinging to the slick outlines of her curves.
There went his meditative state. His whole body tightened, cock growing hard in an instant as he watched her approach. She gave him a self-conscious smile and dove under the surface, swimming over to come up just a few feet from him, treading water.
“Sophie…” he warned. “I don’t think you want to come any closer. I’m on edge right now.”
“No, really?” She asked, rolling her eyes. “It’s not really hard to tell, Ephraim.”
Just hearing her say the word hard, and then hearing his name on her lips… Ephraim was dying, he was so damn hungry for her all the sudden.
Out of the thousands of times he’d fucked, out of the countless acts of pleasure he’d performed, he could count on one hand the ones he’d truly desired.
Here she was, though, running her hands through her long, wet hair. She dove under the water, moving around, and when she came back up she held the t-shirt she’d worn in a hand.
The rest of her was completely, blissfully bare.
“Fuck,” he muttered, already moving toward her.
He reached out and dragged her to his body, groaning when her full, bare breasts crushed against his chest, when her hot core pressed against his abs, when her sleek legs wrapped around his waist. He could have come just from that, like a horny teenaged boy. She was that sexy and irresistible to him.
“Ephraim,” she whispered as he sought her soft lips, kissing her long and hard as he carried her toward the side of the pool. He snared her lower lip with his teeth, sucked on it. Explored her with his tongue, trying to hold in the hungry sounds filling his throat as he tasted her for the first time. Cupped her perfect ass with both hands, ran his thumbs over her hip bones.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.
When her ass hit the side of the pool, he leaned her back. Tugging her hair gently, he bowed her back until she thrust those magnificent breasts up at him, wanting. Her sex was slick and hot against him, her hips rocking in a gentle rhythm that threatened to burn him alive.
Fuck, he wanted to be inside her so bad.
Instead, he shaped both creamy mounds of her breasts and took his time exploring their curves, sucking and nibbling at her nipples until she was begging with need.
“Ephraim, please,” she chanted. “Please, please, please.”
“I know what you want,” he whispered as he kissed her lips again. “I’m going to give you what you need, Sophie.”
He lay her all the way back, parting her thighs easily and dropping down to kiss and tease her belly, her hips, her inner thighs. Her fingers drove into his hair, pulling tightly.
He froze for a moment, reaching up to gently remove her hands. He’d been pulled and forced enough in his life. Just this once, he wanted to be unbridled, to give her pleasure in just the way he wished.
When he found her clit with his lips and tongue, she cried his name, her thighs shaking with her need. Ephraim recognized in her what he often did in himself, the lack of touch and tender care.
No longer, not today. Not for his gorgeous Sophie.
When she was panting and writhing, soaking his lips and face with her need, he slid two thick fingers deep into her core. She shattered, convulsing and screaming her release to the heavens. He kept her going as long as he could, wringing every drop of pleasure from her body until she quieted and pulled at him, seeking his kiss on her mouth once more.
This time their kiss was slower, but no less intense and hungry. Ephraim’s cock throbbed with his desire to fill her, complete their bond. She would be amazing, life-changing. Of that he had no doubt.
When was the last time Ephraim had fucked someone of his own volition, because he wanted to do so?
He had no idea.
Sophie’s breathing grew faster again as she slid her hand down between them, slipping under his wet boxer briefs to close her fingers around the steel length of his cock. Ephraim had to bite his lip to hold in the shout threatening to pour from his throat as she explored him with a gentle touch, nearly drawing his release with a few simple strokes.
In the perfectly wrong moment, his rational mind decided to intercede. Even as Sophie was rubbing her thumb just under the crown of his cock, burning him alive from the inside out, his brain flashed an image that he couldn’t ignore.
Ephraim, buried balls-deep in Sophie. Sophie, wrapped around him, crying his name. And there, in her hand, the keys.
Ephraim stilled.
“No.” It tore free from somewhere deep inside him, painful and angry and pure.
“W…what?” Sophie asked, her big blue eyes opening, nose scrunching in confusion. “No, what?”
“I can’t,” Ephraim said, pulling her hands away and stepping back. “This… this is for my true mate. I’ve waited a thousand years, and I’d wait a thousand more rather than do whatever… this is.”
“Ephraim,” she said, her brows knitting. “Let me… soothe you.”
“No. Unless that’s a command?” he spat, anger at her and at himself quickly flaring high.
“No! No, of course not,” she said, looking hurt and horrified. “I wouldn’t…”
Ephraim snorted.
“Wouldn’t command me? Wouldn’t act as my master? I don’t see you trying to set me free, Sophie. You’re just like the rest of them, like every other owner I’ve ever had.”
He could see that his words had found their target, see the pain in Sophie’s eyes.
Good. He shouldn’t be the only one hurting.
Turning, he left her there, seeking nothing more than his bed and the blissful darkness of sleep.
Chapter Six
Sophie stood on the far side of Ephraim’s open bedroom, watching him sleep. He seemed to be deeply unconscious, not anywhere close to waking. She sucked in a quiet breath and looked around, knowing that if she was ever going to explore, this was the time.
She found several surprising things in her search. A room full of gilded treasure, something straight out of a Tolkien description of a dragon’s hoard. A room of carefully preserved garments seemingly chronologically arranged, presumably Ephraim’s own clothes through the ages. A windowless room with black walls and thousands of photographs, a timeline of Ephraim’s life, his face appearing in the photos again and again in different scenes.
She had the distinct feeling that she was trespassing when she saw some of the more private moments, photos of Ephraim bound and strapped to BDSM crosses, photos of people dangling the keys over his prone form, photos of him in graphically sexual situations.
How had he even come to have these photos? Better question, what kind of fucked up life had Ephraim lived? Or since his powers seemed to be
some kind of servitude, what had he been forced into?
Thinking of the moment at the pool when he refused her attentions, Sophie thought she understood a little better. Moreover, she knew a moment of distinct shame. If the kind of treatment depicted in these photos was all Ephraim knew, no wonder he didn’t want to share himself with anyone in that way.
For all he knew, Sophie was no better than the rest of his owners.
Maybe I’m not, she thought to herself.
He wasn’t one to forget his past, apparently. Sophie walked up and examined the photos close up, noting the vast and beautiful landscapes in the backgrounds, the glittering and gorgeous people in the photos with him. No matter the scenario, there was one constant: Ephraim looked passive, angry, stifled.
Never happy, not in one single photograph. She wrinkled her nose, trying to think if he’d ever smiled at her, a genuine and true smile.
Nope. Not once, ever.
She had to drag herself out of that room, curiosity eating her up. Ephraim was such a mystery to her, though his past was clearly tragic. The more she considered what it must have been like to be owned, the more she thought about the kind of person who would go out of their way to own another being… the more petals unfurled in the story of Ephraim.
And now Sophie herself was one of those people. Fuck.
She wandered the maze of his house, lost in thought, until at last she came to a hallway of closed doors. The hallway stretched on and on, out of her line of sight. For all she knew, it might truly be endless.
Something in her gut told her that this was where she needed to be. Glancing back over her shoulder, she stepped forward and opened the first door on her left. A sucking black void drew at her clothes, her hair, tugging her like a gentle vacuum.
“Shit!” she said, slamming the door closed. She let out a shaky laugh. “I guess that was to be expected.”
“Not a particularly humanoid-friendly plane,” came Ephraim’s deep voice from behind her.
Sophie jumped and turned, guilt flooding her veins.
“Um, hey. You’re up,” was all she could manage. And fully dressed, Sophie thought with regret.
Ephraim watched her for a moment, then moved forward and grasped her wrist, pulling her out of the hallway and dangerously close to being in his arms.
“Why are you opening doors, Sophie?” he asked, his voice deadly-soft. He stared down at her, his eyes flashing that eerie yellow-green.
When Sophie’s tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, his gaze dropped to her mouth for the barest moment. His jaw tensed and his grip on her wrist tightened.
“I was bored,” she lied, her chin raising in defiance.
He looked down at her mouth a final time before releasing her, looking not a bit convinced.
“Those are all doors to other planes,” he said, turning and moving back toward the main room, leaving Sophie to trail after him. “Open the wrong one… you’re dead.”
Though she knew he wasn’t making a threat so much as stating a fact, the ice in his tone gave her a chill. Such distrust in every word he spoke, in every glance… no matter how heated.
The worst part was that she deserved that, on some level. Yeah, she was going to save a hell of a lot of lives and possibly the city by enacting her plan. But she was doing it to save her sister, not just out of the goodness of her heart.
“Is the spirit realm behind one of those doors?” she asked, before she could lose her nerve.
He faltered for a moment, then turned to stare at her.
“Why would you ask that?” He demanded to know.
“There are endless doors, endless planes of existence…” she waved her hand at the hallway. “It’s got to be in there somewhere.”
His gaze narrowed.
“It’s the first door on the right, as a matter of fact,” he snapped, shocking her with the immediate answer. “But you can’t just waltz in there. It changes you.”
The way he said it indicated that he knew from experience, but he wasn’t exactly waiting around for Sophie’s response.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here. This was a mistake,” he said, spinning and striding toward the main room once more.
“Ephraim, wait. I’m sorry,” Sophie said. She hurried to keep pace with him.
“Sorry for what? For having secrets? For going through my private things without asking?”
At Sophie’s look of surprise, he gave a sharp shake of his head.
“You think there’s anything in this plane that happens without my knowledge? No. I hope you enjoyed playing the voyeur, Sophie. You wouldn’t be the first of my masters who liked that kind of thing.”
“Hey!” She said as they reached the main room. She turned the tables on him, reaching out and grabbing his hand to halt his movement. “Look at me.”
“Sophie, there’s nothing else that needs to be said,” Ephraim said.
When she didn’t let go, he turned back her with a soft sigh.
“I don’t want…” she started, then stopped, biting her lip. What exactly was she trying to say, here?
“You don’t know what you want, Sophie,” he said, extracting his hand from hers.
“I want a lot of things, Ephraim.” Her voice hardened when she thought of Lily; of course her greatest wish would be to get her sister back. “Things I can never have, things I don’t have the strength to fight for. But I know this… I don’t want to be like… like those people in your photographs.”
The hurt and anger in Ephraim’s eyes was like a punch to the gut. He seemed about to respond, then just shook his head and thrust his hand out to her again.
“We have to go back to the Manor.”
“I thought you were taking the full day off to rest,” Sophie said, taking his hand.
In a flash, they were back at the Manor.
“Yeah, well. I’ve had enough rest for one day,” he said. “Besides, you didn’t see how bad it was out there. I think a lot of the humans have already fled, but where will the Kith go? It’s not like werewolves and Vampyres have extended family across the Gulf South to take them in.”
Sophie just nodded, looking around the Manor’s deserted living room.
“Awfully quiet in here,” she said, just as the butler appeared, still dressed in his tuxedo, perfectly pressed.
“Duverjay,” Ephraim said with a nod. “I’m back to resume patrols.”
“I was hoping you were Rhys and Gabriel,” the man said unapologetically. “They haven’t checked in for some hours, though I expect that might just mean a dead cell phone battery.”
Duverjay turned and paced to the kitchen island, drawing Sophie’s attention to the massive arsenal of firearms he’d laid out there.
“Damn,” she said. “Just what are you expecting, exactly?”
“There’s a war raging outside, Kith against Kith. Possessed humans are turning up in droves, Vampyres too. Most of the shifters have headed for the hills, but there are plenty of demons and other evildoers lurking. I want to take as many out as I can from afar before I get pulled into combat,” he said, rechecking the slide on one of his pistols.
“I see,” Sophie said.
The butler gave a soft laugh, shaking her head.
“I doubt that very much. I’m a Berserker, long since retired from the battle field. If I get drawn into what’s happening out there, it’s a last recourse. There are too many of them and not enough of us, and my bear doesn’t know the meaning of the word stop.”
“You’d fight to the death?” Sophie asked, pressing a hand to her heart.
“Without a moment’s hesitation. I just want to make it count, you see. I plan to leave the Manor soon, head down and act as extra protection for the Guardians’ mates. I’ve become quite attached to them all in my time here, and… well, I plan to be with them as long as I can. As long as they’ll have me,” he explained, grabbing a big duffel bag from one of the couches. “I’m loading myself up now. Is there anything I can get you two first?”
/>
Ephraim shook his head solemnly, and Sophie followed suit.
The sound of the Manor’s heavy front door opening and slamming closed made them all visibly tense; to Sophie’s relief it was only Aeric, the big blond guy she’d met briefly yesterday.
“It’s a shit storm out there,” he said, shaking his head and throwing aside a sword that was missing at least a third of its length.
“Rhys has called all of the Louisiana Shifters in for help, but they only made it as far as the outskirts of the city before they got caught up in a battle,” Duverjay informed Aeric.
“Damn,” Aeric said, shaking his head. “Never in my life have I missed my dragon so.”
“You’re a dragon?” Sophie asked, awestruck. “I thought dragons were extinct!”
Aeric’s lips twitched.
“I was a dragon,” he corrected her. “No time for the story now, I’m afraid. Not with all the melee outside.”
“We have to kill Papa Aguiel,” Sophie said, crossing her arms. “It’s that simple.”
“Is it, now?” Aeric asked, eyeing her. “Have you got some kind of great plan then, mm?”
Sophie flushed. She did, but it wasn’t as if she could tell him that. “Not that I can share, but I have been setting things in motion to see to his downfall, I assure you.”
A strange expression flickered across Ephraim’s face, a kind of sudden understanding. It took Sophie a minute, but she realized that Ephraim probably thought she was going to send him up against Papa Aguiel.
Before she could correct him, he was following Aeric toward the armory.
“Ephraim, wait!” she said, rushing to keep up.
“Go with Duverjay,” Ephraim said, refusing to meet her gaze. “I will meet you back here tomorrow. Stay with the Guardians’ mates tonight, help protect them.”
He was trying to flatter her with that last bit, and she wasn’t having any of it.
“Ephraim, no,” she said, snagging his shirt sleeve. “You can’t just… go off.”
“Is that a command?” he asked, arching an imperious brow.
