I’m panting with the strain of trying to free myself by the time he finishes. Removing his foot from my back, he rolls me over and sits astride me. I can’t avoid a view of his cock angling up from my belly button.
He pins down one of my elbows with his knee while he wraps the other wrist with yarn. It’s softer and thicker than yarn, actually, and he’s braided it into long strands to give it strength. When he’s tied the end of the first strand to the rickety metal headboard, I test my own strength against it. The yarn slides and catches on the widest part of my hand. Tugging harder causes pain, and he makes a clucking noise like a mother scolding a child.
“Just relax, and it’ll be over before you know it,” he says like he’s about to pull a tooth. It would be comical—if I didn’t feel panic churning my insides.
I go stiff and still as he wraps the other wrist, my breath coming in shallow gasps. He rises from my chest and walks down to secure my ankles.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he then calls wryly as he leaves the shack. But he’s back in a moment, and I notice the blade of my knife glinting in his hand. It must have dropped from my pocket while Sadie was working me over.
“What are you going to do with that?” I demand, but my voice comes out squeaky.
“Well, we can’t very well do this with your clothes on, can we?”
My eyes go wide as he approaches the bed. It doesn’t seem to matter that he saw me naked earlier. I already feel painfully exposed with my arms and legs splayed.
He grins. “You need to relax, love.”
I open my mouth to spew something nasty but instead say, “I can’t.” The words come out so pitiful and honest that it brings moisture to my eyes, and a shameful heat to my cheeks. My skin is dark, so I doubt he notices. And yet there’s a subtle change in his expression.
He turns again and exits the shack.
What the hell was that? It’s true that relaxing is not really part of my lifestyle. Even in a moment like this, I’m mostly worried about the people who depend on me and what will happen to them if I don’t make it back. But what made me say such a thing to him?
When he comes back, he’s got the shawl from my hammock wrapped around his waist. He picks up a chair at the foot of the bed, drags it to the side, and reverses it. He takes a seat with his legs around the back. The position splits the shawl open over one thigh, but at least I’m no longer staring at his cock.
“Enjoying yourself?” I snap.
He smiles, but says nothing.
“Well, are you going to do it or not?” The silent staring is almost worse than the threats.
He raises his eyebrows and gives me a nod. “Without a doubt. I won’t live long like this.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“The truth of it is,” he replies, continuing to study me, “I’m not used to having to force women. Don’t get me wrong. That doe-eyed look you keep giving me has me hard as a rock. I intend to enjoy it. But I’ll not take a weeping woman.”
“Who’s weeping?” I snarl. I’ve had about all I can take of his cocky-ass banter.
My anger has no effect on him. He continues to study me coolly, and soon his gaze is roaming over my body, briefly reigniting those flaming irises.
“What are you, anyway?” I ask. I do want to know, but mostly I need to distract him until I can think of a way out of this.
“I told you. A wisp.”
“Yes, but what is a wisp? And don’t tell me a kind of fairy, because I know that already too.” I have no very clear idea what a fairy is, beyond what I heard in stories as a child, but I’ll save that question for when I start to run out of others.
I wonder whether I can keep him talking long enough that he’ll just blink out, like Sadie. And here I’ll be, tied to the bed and left to starve. I suppose eventually I’d work myself free.
“The word ‘wisp’ comes from ‘will-o’-the-wisp,’ ” he explains. “It’s a creature made of light that waylays travelers. Leads them off their paths in the night. Mostly into bogs and other nasty places.”
“How charming.”
He chuckles. “Some folk need to be led off their paths. A night alone in a bog has done many a man some good.”
I have to admit I can think of a few men, and women, who’d benefit from a night lost in the swamp. Except here it’d be a death sentence.
“So how did you come to be in that jar?”
The scowl returns, and I regret reminding him.
“ ’Twas a woman,” he grumbles. “A tinker. An uncommonly pretty one. I don’t ever let them get close, you see. I lead, they follow. But the lass was winsome.” He points the tip of my knife at me. “Dark, like you. I let her catch up to me. She knew what I was and called me out. Offered a kiss if I would light her out of the bog, because she was lost, you see. Or so she said. The honey taste of her lips is the last thing I remember.” The smile that had crept over his face as he told his tale now twists into a frown. “She kept me for light for the caravan. Never once let me out. And when she grew old, she gave me to her daughter, and so on and so on, with time always passing, and finally I come to be here, where it’s a pretty little whore who finally frees me.”
I laugh dryly. “Sadie didn’t mean to free you. She meant to keep me with her by taking away my light.”
Again he points the knife. “Told you, didn’t I? Nothin’ but need, a creature like that. Selfish to the end.”
“I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that,” I mutter.
Ignoring my sarcasm, he continues, “Never knew a woman who was different, actually. Haven’t met a-one I trusted. What I don’t understand, though, is—what do they call you?”
“Willa.”
“Is that a fact? A coincidence, I’d call that. What I don’t understand, Willa, is why stealing your light would be an effective means of keepin’ you here. I suppose the sun rises even in America.”
My shoulders have begun to ache and I twist in my bindings. I watch him watch the way my body moves. I’ve begun to relax after all, as the promised ravishing does not appear imminent. And to be fair, Jack’s not the monster he first seemed. Selfish and childlike, like Sadie, yes. But even Sadie, in the end, I think, tried to help me. Though that part didn’t look to be much of a hardship.
Holding that visual of Sadie bouncing on his cock, I meet his gaze, and I could swear he sees it too by the expression on his face. But he stares expectantly, and I recall he’s asked me a question.
“Of course the sun rises. But without the lantern I was stuck here until morning.”
“A bit o’ fun, she was after.”
He’s smiling, but his voice has dropped to that low, sensual growl. Heat pools in my belly, and I remember the feel of the glass jar against my skin.
“Always,” I whisper, afraid my voice will tremble.
“That’s a thing I would have liked to see.”
I don’t respond to this erotic baiting, but my body does. Tugging again at my bindings, I arch my chest through my raised arms.
Jack rises and sits on the edge of the bed, the rusty springs squealing under his weight.
“I think you could be more comfortable,” he says, raising the knife. I glance at my wrists, thinking he’s going to free me, but instead the knife flicks under one strap of my halter top, slicing clean through.
I gasp as the fabric springs free, dangling above the mound of my right breast. Jack reaches with the knife, slipping the point under the edge of the loose strap, and lifts the fabric away, folding it underneath my breast.
“Better,” he pronounces.
He bends over me, gaze fixed on the single bared breast. The caress of his hot breath causes my nipple to harden.
“So,” he continues, “without me to light your way, she had you trapped here.”
“It’s not just that—” As I begin speaking, his head dips, and he closes his lips over my nipple. The swirl of his tongue draws a soft cry from my throat.
I had expected
to be forced, not seduced, and the part of my brain that drives my instincts is sending me confusing signals.
He crawls over me and plants a knee beside each of my hips. Then he slips the knife under the other strap, tucking it down as well. There’s something incredibly hot about the fact that my breasts are on display while the rest of my flesh remains covered.
Jack leans over me, cupping his hands and taking each nipple between an index and middle finger. He squeezes lightly, sliding back and forth. The feathery sensation goes through me like an electric current, and I close my eyes to better focus my attention.
My body tingles all over, aching for more intensity. His big hands close over my breasts and begin to slowly roll them against my chest. I moan and arch off the bed.
“You were saying?” he prompts, teasing with his voice. “ ‘It’s not just…’ ”
I open my eyes to find that he’s removed the shawl from his waist and risen to his knees. I eye the length of his cock.
“It’s not just seeing in the dark,” I blurt hoarsely, struggling to track the conversation.
“No?” He reaches down behind him, hand squeezing between my legs, and moisture seeps from my pussy. The spread-open feeling is delicious now. I want to spread my legs wider.
“No,” I whisper. “The light—it keeps the creepers away.”
“Willa?” He takes hold of his cock. A tool he’s ready to use.
My mouth waters, and I swallow.
“I’m going to take what I need.”
His glow has dimmed to the point we’re almost in the dark. And I’m feeling ready to make my contribution to the preservation of supernatural beings. I’m pretty sure I’d do it now even if he hadn’t tied me to the bed. But I’m beginning to relish this helpless feeling. The fact that my own choice is irrelevant. It’s the last thing I’d have expected of myself.
He reaches down and unbuttons my pants. As I’m wondering whether he’ll have to untie me, he takes the edges of fabric in his hands and yanks them apart, ripping them open at the seams. He slides each separated half down until I’m naked but for the band of my top around my belly and ribs, and the legs of my pants around my ankles.
He slips two fingers into my wet pussy and I suck in a breath.
“What’s keeping them out now?” he asks, beginning to rub my weeping flesh. I moan and arch my hips into his hand.
“Who?” I ask, pink mist clouding my brain.
“The ‘creepers.’ ”
“Oh shit!” I cry, trying to sit up. But of course I can’t. “Goddammit sonofabitch!”
Jack stares at me, eyebrows lifted.
“The ladder’s down!” I explain. “You have to—”
Suddenly the room is washed in greenish light. Less like a flame, more like phosphorescence.
“I do love a buffet,” says the stranger at the foot of the bed.
Blood Bargain
“Who’s that pasty bloke?” says Jack like we’re having a drink at Toady’s. But he bounds off me, spinning to face the speaker, my knife in his hand.
Expecting creepers, I’m not sure what to make of this visitor. But then I’ve never actually seen a creeper, only smelled their reek in the swamp. I know about them from stories and drawings. Slimy, fanged things that look like they have gators and catfish in their family tree. Every one a bloodsucker. Mama says they came in the end times, once the city got washed over by the sea, because that put out all the lights.
This is a man, or has the look of one. Except for the greenish light coming from his skin. And the inch-long fangs.
“I knew one day you’d make a mistake,” says the visitor. “I only needed to wait.” His gaze shifts to Jack, who’s taken a step toward him, and continues, “You can’t kill me, friend. I’ve been dead four hundred years.”
“Creeper?” Jack asks me.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Cut me loose, Jack.” His light is out, or at least it’s too faint to compete with the sickening green glow of the visitor.
“Actually, don’t, Jack,” says the man. “It will be less messy this way.”
Jack lunges suddenly, launching himself at the stranger. The man raises a hand and seems to merely tap Jack, but Jack sails across the room and slams against the wall.
I tug hard against my bindings. “Who are you?” I demand. “What do you want?”
Jack groans from the floor, and the man steps toward the bed. He’s shirtless and wears tight leather pants and heavy boots. His curling black hair is knotted at the back of his head. With the strange light it’s hard to be sure, but his eyes are either clear or very light. He’s got a Celtic cross tattooed across his impressive chest. He’s the sexiest monster I’ve ever seen, having recently removed Jack from that category.
“Levi,” says the man. “And you’re right that I’m no creeper. But the creepers belong to me. Prey that have been left alive. Infected by dead blood. It rots them but leaves them living. And gives them a taste for live blood. They’ll do anything for it, and I find that useful.”
“You’re a vampire?” I ask. Well, why not? Creepers and ghosts. Now fairies and vampires. I doubt I’d have been shocked if he’d said he was from another planet.
“Bloodsuckers and specters,” mutters Jack, obviously thinking along the same lines. “What is this place? Hell?”
“Close enough, my friend,” replies Levi with a dry chuckle.
“What is it you want?” I repeat, knowing it’s a stupid question. What do vampires ever want?
The bloodsucker moves close to the bed and crouches. He leans in until I feel his cold breath in my ear, and a chill makes a trip both up and down my spine. He smells like Mama’s cedar chest, which is a nice, sharp, clean smell, but under that there’s a cloying sweetness that sours my stomach.
“I have a sweet tooth,” he purrs, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “Two in fact. And you’re about as sweet as they come.” I flinch as he brushes his fingers across one breast. “I’ve been watching you come and go from that old woman’s house for more than two years, just waiting for a chance like this.” His fingers shift to the other breast. “I suppose I have this fine fellow to thank.”
Levi rises, and I force myself to look at him. My heart freezes as I notice something I’d missed before.
“Where did you get that?” I demand. Mama’s brooch is pinned through one of his belt loops, so it glitters just below his hip bone.
My first thought is that he’s killed Maud. But then I remember Maud told me the brooch would somehow keep her safe from the creepers. I thought she meant it’d keep her supplied with fuel for her generator.
The vampire smiles and glances down at the bauble. “I was foolish enough to fall in love with a mortal woman once. Foolish enough to give a token of my affection.” Those creepy eyes shift back to me. “An exquisite Creole. How did it come to be in your possession?”
“It belonged to my grandmother. And my great-grandmother.” A glacier drifting into the pit of my stomach, I recall my mother telling me that one of her mother’s ancestors had been given the brooch by a rich suitor.
His gaze slowly drifts to the window above the bed. “She kept it,” he muses. “Beautiful Madeleine. I suppose it explains why I’m so drawn to you.” A frown overtakes his controlled expression as he fixes his eyes on me again. “But she was a faithless harlot.”
The smirk returns to his lips. “I’m kicking myself for interrupting before the two of you really got going. I haven’t fucked in a hundred years, can you imagine? Our females are all dead, and yours…” Levi looks at Jack, who’s on his feet again. “Well, let’s just say it would be a little like you having sex with a perfectly cooked fillet. My hunger always gets the better of me.”
“It’s not too late,” says Jack.
I’m slow to take this in after Levi’s revelation, but when I do, my eyes snap to Jack’s face.
“I tell you what,” Jack continues, taking a couple steps toward Levi. He bends and sets my knife on the floor be
tween them. “I’ll give you a show like you’ve not seen before, and in exchange you let me go.”
My mouth goes dry and my heart pounds. My bindings dig into my hands and feet as I fight to free myself.
Levi’s mouth curls into a smile. “I’ve promised you to my servants, I’m afraid.” He turns again, gaze raking over me before he returns his attention to Jack. “But they are servants, after all.”
Levi picks up the chair from the bedside and carries it to the wall. He sits down and gestures toward me with one hand. “Proceed. And do put your heart into it if you expect me to keep my side of the bargain.”
“Jack, no,” I plead, trying pointlessly to squirm to the other side of the bed.
“Sorry, love,” he says with that careless tone of his.
“Listen to me, you idiot! You can’t trust him! What’s to keep him from killing you anyway? You’re no match for—”
Oh but yes he is! It hits me. He just needs to recharge his battery.
Our eyes meet, and a familiar expression touches his handsome features. A fleeting hint of something that looks an awful lot like softheartedness, same as I saw when I got myself all choked up earlier.
“Just lie still, and we’ll get this over quick,” he says lightly.
“Oh no, my friend,” interrupts Levi. “That’s not what we agreed to.”
But I see the meaning behind Jack’s words, or at least I think I do. He’s reminding me to play my part.
“You bastards,” I snarl. “Don’t you touch me!”
Jack picks up my knife on his way to the bed. First he cuts off what’s left of my clothing, and then he frees my wrists. The blood flows painfully to the ends of my fingers. Before I can feel them again, he pins my wrists over my head. He ducks his head, nipping my ear hard enough that I squeal, and in a low voice he says, “Just you and me, love.”
I feel a surge of affection for this strange being. I’m not likely to forget about our observer, but it’s almost enough that Jack wants me to. That he’s made an effort to lessen the sting of this act. When his hand comes roughly to my breast, my body begins to respond to his touch. Less to his touch than to the desperate, hungry look in his eyes, but the eyes and the hands and the heart of the man—they’re all connected.
Before She Wakes: Forbidden Fairy Tales Page 18
