by Cori Vidae
“Let’s go.” Mr. Handsome held out his hand, eyes twinkling in the strobes and light show. He frowned, noting her hesitation. “Or do you need to wait for your friend?”
Demeter’s gaze met his. She held out her hand. “No. My name is Demi. Nice to meet you.”
He laughed, pulling her away from the wall. “Nick. Come on. It only gets rowdier the later it gets.”
“I’ll bet.” Demeter brushed a bit of Underworld off her skirt. “Let’s go.”
“What do you want to do first?” He brushed his fingers along her cheek and lowered his lips to hers.
Demi broke the kiss and stepped away. She should slap his arrogant face for thinking she would want what this club had to offer. But… here she was. Dressed to seduce or be seduced. Did she want that? Did she want him?
Gray eyes smoldered back at her and she lost some of her resolve to leave. The pulse of the club infused her soul and for just a moment she let the music sway her just a little bit closer. Memories of another night long ago flooded her senses and she released a pent-up sigh. How many centuries had she been wrapped up in chasing Persephone from the Underworld and back again? Too many to think about.
She slid in close and tucked her hand in his. The musk of him invaded her senses as one palm skimmed down to her waist. She wanted him.
The idea was maddening. He was nothing like the men she took to her bed a millennia ago. There. She admitted it to herself. She did want to sleep with the arrogant ass.
The music pulsed, the electronica beat morphing into a slow song. Lights dimmed and Nick pulled her close. His erection pressed against her stomach and she moaned as his lips claimed hers for another panty soaking kiss.
“Come with me,” he murmured against her lips, tugging her into a hidden alcove. Behind him, a door opened, revealing a small store room filled with excess tables and chairs.
“How did you know this was here?”
“Perks of the job. I help out on occasion. Let’s just say Hades values my services.”
“What kind of services?”
His eyes gleamed bright, and for a moment, Demi could see something other than human shimmering in his gaze. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
Desire and fear skittered along her spine. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want to know, now would I?”
Nick smiled, his eyes picking up a flicker of reddish flames. “Let’s just say I know how to give a lady a good time.”
“You’re one of his soldiers. An incubus.”
“I am, indeed.”
“I’m immune to your charms, you know. You can’t suck my soul just by giving me an orgasm.”
Nick blinked, a surprised laugh erupting from his lips. “You really get down to brass tacks don’t you?”
“Something like that.” Demi grinned. This was going to be fun. She reached underneath her skirt and hooked the scandalously thin pair of panties with her thumbs and slid them over her hips. She wanted him now. The liquid heat between her thighs demanded release.
“Well, well. Ms. Demi, you are a sugary bit of cake after all.”
“Do you want a taste to find out?”
She dropped the panties on the floor and moved into his embrace, his lips sealing hers in a kiss.
“Oh, yes,” he responded, his voice hoarse with need. “I want to bury myself in that sweetness until we’re both singing. How does that sound?”
Her fingers fumbled with the unfamiliar fastenings of his jeans and at last his cock sprang free.
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.” Demi slid her hands down his cock. The tip was already seeping his desire and she bent down to lick it, eliciting a moan.
“Wait.” Nick slid his hand into his pocket and produced a foil packet. Opening it up, he slid the condom on his erect cock.
Demi shifted in his arms. She lifted her mesh skirt, her bare ass brushing against his erection. Bracing herself against the wall, she thrust her ass in the air and glanced over her shoulder. “Now. Take me now.”
Eyes glowing incubus fire, Nick moved against her, the tip of him teasing her pussy. He slid in and Demi gasped as his thickness filled her empty places.
“Goddess,” she hissed as he reached around her and pinched her nipples, sending little fissions of fire right to the center of her pussy.
“That you are.”
He gripped her hips and began to pump in and out of her with precision. Every movement brought a brush of sensation to her clit and a higher climb toward release.
Demi panted, her nipples tiny pebbles under the club wear. What she wouldn’t give to have this man wrapped in her sheets, pleasuring her with more than a fuck against a wall. As he shuddered against her and his hand reached beneath her to flick her clit, she clung to him, her body on fire. Some nights were meant to last and this one would. She came, riding his cock and screaming her release.
Nick held her close as her body convulsed around his, then they both rested against the wall until their breathing slowed. He withdrew from her and before she could murmur a response, he was holding out her discarded pair of panties with a quirky smile on his face. His liquid eyes glowed in the dim room.
“You were right.”
Demi grinned, her body still singing. “I figured you might enjoy not wearing a girl out on a first date.”
Nick chuckled. “Your panties, my lady.”
“Thanks.” She snapped her fingers and her handbag appeared. She slipped them inside and met his amused glance with a kiss. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready for this night to be over.”
“Come on. I know this great little coffee shop that serves great lattes.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, ushering her back out into the techno beat and the wild lights of the club.
A smile curved Demeter’s lips. “I can hardly wait.” They strolled through the door and out into the night air. The line for entrance into the club had grown since they were inside.
Nick offered her his arm. “Did you find whoever it was you were looking for in there?”
Demi paused. “You know, I think I did.”
“That girl looks an awful lot like you. You should be proud.” Nick glanced back toward the sea of writhing bodies. “And Hades… He deserved that and more.”
“You know, I think I like you, Nick. Let’s go try one of those lattes.”
Nick tugged her against his muscular chest. “Your wish is my command.”
She watched a lock of hair fall across his eyes and noticed not for the first time the very sexy cleft in his chin and the way he always seemed to pay attention to her every word.
This was something new.
Demi allowed herself to bask in his warmth. Nick’s commanding air of self-confidence was in itself refreshing. This man would be no pushover, and well, she could get used to that.
“He really did look good with a collar and leash, didn’t he?” Demi mused.
“You should see them on weeknights. She makes him into an end table while she watches Extreme Bachelor.”
Laughter trickled out and soon she reveled in the feeling. Her daughter was more than capable of handling an oaf like Hades. As she stepped in the dead grass, flowers bloomed. “Life, love, and cupcakes.” She snorted as a particularly persistent night-blooming flower brushed her ankle in thanks. It was time for her now. A pomegranate lay abandoned in the grass and she considered it for the briefest of moments. Her foot swung forward in a kick, sending it careening into the darkness beyond. Take that, Hades, you miserable son of a bitch.
“Let’s go check out that coffee shop.” Demi planted a kiss on Nick’s arm. “I have an idea what you can do with some triple chocolate frosting.”
* * *
Erzabet Bishop is the author of Sigil Fire, Written on Skin, Tethered, Holiday Cruise, Fetish Fair, Club Beam, Temptation Resorts: Jess and Temptation Resorts: Marnie. She is a contributing author to The Big Book of Submission, Slave Girls, Hungry for More, an
d many other anthologies. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children, and is often playing at local bookstores. Follow her posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop. Newsletter sign up: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop.
The Burning Edge of Dawn
Mark Greenmill
Celeste patted Erina’s back as her friend sobbed into her lap. The messy crying would undoubtedly require washing her acolyte robe, but what else was she supposed to do when her roommate was in this state?
“So tell me again,” Celeste said, stroking Erina’s blonde hair. “Why did he end the relationship?”
Erina eased herself up from Celeste’s lap and settled beside her on the bed. She scrubbed away her tears. Warm light filtered through the thin curtains they’d hung together their first term at the Glandel. The stone fortress’s narrow windows were usually bleak, but Celeste and Erina had decided early in the academic year that they could bring some comfort to their small room with a few simple touch-ups.
“He said it was a mistake,” Erina said, trying to steady her voice. “That I was a mistake. He said it wasn’t proper for a gentufen like himself to be having a fling with a student. A fling, he said! As if I were a dock tramp looking for coin!”
Celeste winced as Erina began to cry again. She’d warned her friend that becoming involved with Gen. Alesto would most likely end badly. Erina had become obsessed with him as soon as they arrived at the Glandel as acolyte Servicers. He taught Introduction to Alternative Planes, a dull branch of magic required for the Higher Arts. The moment Erina saw his long hair and deep brown eyes, Celeste knew her friend would stop at nothing until she seduced him. Alesto wasn’t that much older than they were, perhaps in his late twenties. Very young for a gentufen. Perhaps that was part of the allure.
Celeste ran her fingers through her ebony black hair. “I know you like him, but I never liked the way he looked at some of the other female students.”
Erina sobbed harder. Celeste sighed to herself. Alesto could have let Erina down a little easier, rather than breaking up with her right after today’s afternoon lesson.
Her mind drifted away from Erina and Gen. Alesto and settled on something closer to her own heart.
Santorava.
Even thinking of his name sent a chill up her spine. Santorava, Lord of Kraal, and her recently acquired friend.
“Do you think the Superiors found out?” Erina said. “Perhaps they forced him to break it off. Maybe he still loves me!”
Before Celeste could answer, the room filled with the deep, resonate sound of the Grand Bell, rumbling through the ancient stones of the Glandel. Celeste scrambled to the window and peered past the curtains. Outside, a dozen stories below, other acolytes huddled into their plum-colored robes and shuffled through the snow toward the main temple.
“Evening assembly,” Celeste said, a knot of worry twisting in her stomach. The worry wasn’t for the required gathering. It was for what she secretly planned to do instead.
Erina took a deep breath and walked to her side of the room. She fished her formal cloak out of her wardrobe and threw it over her acolyte robes. “Have you seen my brush?” Erina asked.
“You can use mine,” Celeste said.
Erina accepted it and stroked out her long hair. “Why aren’t you getting ready?”
Celeste’s chest tightened. “I need to finish something. I’ll meet you at assembly.”
“All right, but don’t be late. The Servicers have been handing out extra disciplinaries lately. They must think we’re prone to restlessness with all the snow.”
Celeste smiled. The Servicers were more right than Erina suspected.
“You know,” Erina said, glancing at Celeste through a small mirror on the wall. “You really do have the most beautiful eyes.”
Celeste shot her a glance. Her heart pounded now.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they’re sparkling.” Erina perked up. “Are you seeing somebody?”
Celeste chose her words carefully. “I have nothing to tell.”
Erina gaped. “By the Ancients, you are seeing somebody, aren’t you?”
“I—”
“Celeste! I’m happy for you. I won’t tell anybody. But whoever this man is, he’s very lucky to have a woman as beautiful as you. With your coloring, and your golden eyes. Where do those eyes come from, anyway?”
“From my mother’s side. Nobody knows when it started, but it always shows up every third generation.”
“You’re very lucky. Next to your hair, they truly shine.”
Celeste snorted. “If you say so.”
It was nice of Erina to compliment her, but her eyes and hair rarely brought her compliments. More often, they drew the wrong kind of attention. And what did it say about a person that their best traits were something as trivial as hair and eyes?
She sighed. Try as she might, she wasn’t as talented a Servicer as most of the other acolytes, even Erina. Nothing particularly motivated or excited her. Celeste drifted through her education like she’d drifted through most of her life. Being an acolyte was somewhat interesting, at best. At least life at the Glandel was better than being an Enforcer, like her older sister. Every time she saw Maive, her sister had a fresh scar that she’d gotten on some far away battlefield. Maive claimed she got to see the world. Celeste thought that was a poor prize for being stabbed with a sword on a regular basis.
Celeste waited until Erina touched up her make-up and finally left the room.
The moment the door closed, Celeste rushed to her own wardrobe. She threw open the doors and grabbed the wooden box tucked away on the upper shelf. It had arrived a few weeks ago, delivered by a courier sent all the way from Jillen.
There was another reason for Celeste to be glad for the life path Maive had chosen. As the oldest daughter, her sister inherited the contents of the box, but Enforcers kept few possessions. Maive had happily passed it to Celeste.
Tucking the box under her arm, she tossed on her cloak and left the room.
Celeste drifted with the cluster of acolytes like a twig in a swollen creek. When everyone crowded into the twisting stairs toward the dormitory’s exit, she slipped down a deserted hallway. She knew little of true stealth, but she tried her best to stay within the shadowed portions of the passage. There weren’t many, as the acolytes were charged with keeping all the lanterns in the Glandel lit.
As she snuck down the hallway, her mind returned to Santorava. In a way, it had been Gen. Alesto who had introduced them. A few weeks ago, he told their class about the eight demonic planes. One of those planes, Kraal, was a land of immortal demons who lived torturous lives. They were ruled by their Lord, a demon of tremendous power: Santorava.
Celeste’s hand trembled as she pulled open the door to one of the smaller laboratories. Visiting Servicers typically used this room and others like it, but due to the snow, the only Servicers currently in residence were the students and gentufens. No one had entered this laboratory in months.
No one except her.
Stepping into the lab, Celeste let the door close behind her. Darkness enveloped her, held in check by a lone candle burning in a sconce.
Despite knowing nothing there could harm her, Celeste swallowed her nerves. “Hello?”
In the center of the room, within a wide bowl sunk into the floor, rested a stack of rune-covered logs. Celeste’s heart raced.
Focusing her attention, Celeste vocalized a sound in her throat, shaping it with her tongue. It sounded too strange to be called a word, at least in any normal language. The vibrations she formed leached from her mouth and filled the room, resonating with the runes she’d painstakingly crafted.
Those runes hummed, glowing with a faint orange light, like embers of fire breathing themselves to life. The illuminations spread, each rune igniting the one beside it. Celeste let the incantation die away. It was a special chant, used to reawaken the energy and effort she’d prepared, like recalling a poem she’d previously written.
>
Light bloomed in the room as the fire roared to life. Illumination licked at the walls and surrounding bookshelves, pinged off glass beakers, and bathed her face.
Celeste stepped past the neatly ordered desks, examination tables, and instruments to stand beside the pit. The flames gave off no heat, but Celeste’s skin warmed. The smoke evaporated just above the dancing flames.
Just one more element was needed. She pulled out the wooden box and creaked open its lid.
A shimmering pearl, set on a thin string, shone within. Orange and yellow firelight swam across its surface. Celeste held the necklace over the flames, and dropped it.
“Santorava,” she said, “Lord of Kraal, I summon thee.”
The instant the pearl touched the burning logs, the flames leaped toward the ceiling, raging into a towering inferno. Celeste stepped back and shielded her eyes.
The fire was shaped like a man whose head was bowed. His body rotated in the air slowly toward Celeste. He lifted his face. Celeste didn’t think of herself as short—just average height—but the man made of fire who turned toward her towered over her like a mountain.
His body solidified, but a thin sheen of flame continued to cover Santorava’s deeply tanned skin. His hair cascaded down his back, thick and heavy, and black as the deepest part of the sky upon a new moon. Muscles ripped across his bare chest, while fine black trousers hung low across his hips, giving her full view of the angular muscles leading from his tight stomach down to the bulge below.
He held the pearl pendant tightly in his fist.
The demon lord of Kraal gazed at her with sparkling golden eyes. Eyes like hers. They had been what had drawn her interest to him to begin with. Gen. Alesto had explained that on Kraal, all demons had hair like coal and eyes that glimmered gold. Several heads in the classroom had turned to stare at Celeste, who quickly looked away. Outside of her family, Celeste had never heard of anyone—or anything—else who shared this trait. The last person to have eyes like hers was supposedly her great-grandmother.
After that class, Celeste barricaded herself in the library for the next few days, researching everything she could on Kraal. There was surprisingly little information. She already knew it was one of the demonic planes that lay below the Balanced Dimension she lived on, but very little had been written about its history, or what it was like on that world. Not that she cared much about that part of it. What she really wanted to know about was its denizens. The demons. The beings with hair and eyes like hers. A question burned in her. She needed to know.
