Obsessed

by Cheyenne McCray

Conversation flowed around her while she edged and elbowed the rest of the way through the crowd. An assortment of languages met her ears—French, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Navajo, Puerto Rican—all of which she mentally translated with unconscious ease. She’d had a gift for languages as long as she could remember, and within hours of being introduced to a new dialect, she easily mastered it and spoke with the fluency of a native. She’d served as an interpreter for the United Nations since graduating from college in the top one percent of her class, and she loved her job.

  Although lately she’d been wondering if there was more to life than work.

  As usual, like she had a sixth sense, Natalie was acutely aware of the men and women who watched her move through the room. Throughout Nat’s life, she had become accustomed to attracting attention without even trying. She’d been told that her slender figure, flawless porcelain complexion, forest green eyes, and her unusual shade of wine-red hair made her an uncommon beauty. Natalie disagreed. She simply looked different from everyone else.

  When she worked she kept her hair back, wore thick-framed reading glasses to dim the brilliant color of her eyes, and dressed in business suits to camouflage her curvaceous figure. Otherwise no one took her seriously.

  But when she went out, she opted for mini-skirts and low cut blouses that showed off her cleavage. Truth be told, she loved the appreciative glances and loved the thought that men found her attractive—as long as it was on her terms, and when she wanted the attention.

  Finally, Natalie reached the Virtual Fantasy World exhibit. She broke through the crowd and walked up to the guy Miz had told her to look out for—a dark-haired dork in a Robin Hood costume. Okay, so Miz hadn’t called him a dork, but anyone who dressed up to look like a character from a fantasy story was a dweeb in Nat’s book.

  “Miznari sent me,” she said when she reached the man. “I’m Natalie Capella.”

  “’Bout time.” The guy picked up a clipboard and nodded. “You’re up next.” His gaze traveled over her figure as he absently gestured toward an arched opening that looked like the mouth of a cave made from carved stone. “Head on into the cave. Once you’ve been through the virtual tour, you’ll come out on the other side. There’ll be a questionnaire for you to complete.”

  “That’s it?” Nat smoothed her hands over her jean skirt as she glanced from the cave mouth to the dweeb. “No headgear or special glasses needed?”

  “Nope.” Robin Hood grinned. “It’s a totally awesome exhibit. You’ll feel like you’re in a real fantasy.”

  “All righty then.” It was all Nat could do not to groan and roll her eyes. Instead she gave the guy a quick smile and strode toward the opening.

  Might as well get this over with so that she could get back to the hotel, take a nice relaxing bath, and enjoy the new vibrator she’d packed in her suitcase. The one with the pearl beads and the rabbit ears—it was to die for. Too bad she’d been too busy to date lately. She could use a real man with a nice long, thick cock. But she didn’t fuck just anyone, and lately no man had appealed to her, or met her standards.

  At the entrance Nat paused. Odd, but the birthmark behind her earlobe was tingling, and it felt incredibly weird. Raising her chin, she shrugged the feeling off and stepped forward.

  The instant Natalie walked into the “cave,” everything dimmed. A wave of dizziness slammed into her and she stumbled. For a moment she held her hand to her head, waiting for the nausea to pass.

  What the hell?

  When she felt better, she realized the noise of the convention center had faded to nothing…absolute silence reigned. Even the very air changed. Dry and cool—and it smelled of ancient dust and the stench of rotten meat. “That’s just a little too realistic,” she muttered, blinking until her eyes became adjusted to the dim interior.

  It was more of a large room or cavern than a cave. The walls were stained and eroded, and apparently designed to appear as if they were thousands, maybe millions of years old. What little light there was came from a lone tunnel on the other side of the room—a passageway that looked large enough for an elephant to walk through.

  Debris littered the rough rock strewn floor—leaves, dirt, and dried crap of some sort. And to her left, bones had been stacked in pile after pile after pile. Nat blinked. Did some of those bones in the closest pile have chunks of pinkish flesh hanging from them?

  Nat scrunched up her nose. “Oh that is gross. Just plain gross.”

  In the distance she heard the steady drip of water…plop…plop…plop, an eerie sound that caused goose bumps to break out upon her skin.

  A sudden urgent and overwhelming desire to turn and run flooded through Natalie. She spun back toward the entrance—

  It was gone. All she saw was a rock wall.

  Panic built up within her and she had to fight to calm her racing heart. “Get a grip, Nat.” She took a deep, cleansing breath, like she always did before an important meeting. “It’s supposed to make you feel like you’re in another world.”

  But it was all she could do to maintain her cool. It was almost like she knew there was something waiting for her…something dangerous…

  Pushing back the urge to scream, Nat took another deep breath and walked back to the wall where she had supposedly come from, and ran her palm over the rough surface. Amazing. So real and so…dirty. Natalie rubbed her dusty hand on her skirt and turned away from the wall and back to the bone room.

  Okay, so it was too late to chicken out. Heck, she’d never backed out on anything before, and she certainly wouldn’t now—even if she could find the exit to the convention center.

  She’d just kill Miznari when she got this damn thing over with. That chick was toast.

  With renewed determination, Nat started forward and flinched when something crunched underfoot. Pausing in mid-step, she glanced down and her stomach flipped. It was the skeleton of an animal about the same size as a dog.

  This is not real, those bones are not real, none of this is real, she practically shouted in her mind as she raised her chin and marched across the room, and then into the passageway. The confidence in her stride increased the farther she traveled through the tunnel and the brighter the light became.

  Natalie rounded a sharp corner and came to an abrupt stop at the mouth of the cave. She’d found an exit—only this one led into a large clearing and then a gloomy and foreboding forest. A forest that appeared so murky that sunlight could barely penetrate its thick canopy.

  The need to flee spiked through Nat once more. No way. She couldn’t go into those woods. It was too dangerous…

  She clenched her fists at her sides and raised her chin. “It’s a stupid alternate reality machine,” she muttered. “It’s not even real.”

  But it sure as hell felt real.

  A sharp wind gusted inside the cave, swirling beneath her skirt and brushing her panty-covered pussy and her bare ass cheeks. The chill caused her nipples to tighten against her blouse.

  Outside, branches swayed in the wind and leaves stirred across the clearing. Smells of pine and wet earth were strong, and Natalie couldn’t help but feel that she was truly in a forest. Yet that was impossible. Completely impossible. She shook her head. The exhibit was dead center in the middle of the convention hall, and this forest…well, it had to be fake. Not to mention it was actually evening and dark outside the convention center, not daytime like in this pretend forest.

  “Get on with it, girl.” Natalie strode out of the cave and walked across the clearing toward the dense forest. “Just get on with it.” The sooner she got through this exhibit, the sooner she could go back to the hotel room.

  Which brought up another question that she turned over in her mind as she headed into the woods. What did she have to do to get out of this game? Damn it, she should have made the dweeb be more specific. Would she have to find some kind of token? Win something? Or maybe she just had to make it from one end of the machine to the other. Hopefully that was it, ’cause she really wasn’t in
the mood for games.

  Pine needles and leaves crunched beneath Natalie’s sandals as she made it into the forest and headed into its murky depths. Wind tugged at her blouse, pressing the fabric tight against her breasts and tossing her red hair about her shoulders and across her face.

  Just as she reached up to pull a chunk of hair out of her mouth, fine hairs prickled at her nape and the star birthmark on the back of her earlobe tingled. A stench like rotten meat washed over her in a hot rush—like the smell in the cave, only stronger…and like someone or something with really, really bad breath had just breathed all over her.

  Slowly Nat turned and squinted into the forest. At first she saw nothing as her gaze scanned from left to right, but then an odd glitter caught her eye. It was a kind of hazy shimmer that rose from the ground all the way up into the trees—like a towering pile of…of broken black glass.

  The dirty pile moved and the ground reverberated beneath Natalie's feet.

  Orange lizard-like eyes blinked at her from the black shape, and she almost screamed.

  A dragon. And a damned lifelike dragon at that. Different from any she’d ever seen pictures of, yet similar. Countless glimmering black scales covered its head and body, and she knew the wings the beast held close to its sides would be enormous when it spread them wide.

  But of course it’s not real.

  Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she again fought the urge to run as fast as she could into the forest. “It’s just make-believe. It’s not real,” she repeated, this time out loud. She swallowed as she watched the immense shape step closer, and the ground shuddered beneath her feet. She had the sudden image of the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, only this seemed far more real than that one did on the big screen.

  The virtual reality nerds are probably watching you on camera, Nat. They’re waiting to see if you’re going to freak out and they’re going to be laughing their asses off if you do. Don’t let them see that you’re scared shitless over a big fake dragon.

  The beast opened its jaws, and the hot malodor of rotten meat blasted out and gagged Natalie. Dry heaves caused her stomach to clench and clench and clench.

  The big fake dragon cocked its head, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn that it smiled…the evil and vindictive smile of a being that has hated and sought revenge for countless centuries.

  Something within told Nat that she needed to run. That she needed to get out of there as fast as she could.

  But none of this is real. Why give those nerds the satisfaction of seeing how unsettled this exhibit made her feel?

  Assholes.

  A thundering started in her ears, but she couldn’t tell if it was a storm sweeping in behind her, or if it was the blood rushing through her head. The sound grew louder yet as the dragon reared back, like a snake preparing to strike. A big, nasty, glittering, snake-dragon.

  I’m just going to walk away. Natalie swallowed, hard. It’s not real. This is not real.

  Cursing herself for being unnerved by something so stupid as a fake dragon, Natalie turned, only to see a horse and rider bearing down on her.

  This time she couldn’t help it. A scream tore from her throat as a dark figure reached down, grabbed her around the waist and flung her across its lap.

  At the same moment the dragon shrieked and a blast of heat scorched her legs and backside. Natalie screamed again as pain seared her body and her skirt caught fire.

  Chapter Two

  Dair, Merth Darkling

  Evvan, the Devline Elvin Enforcer, scented the wind as he followed the trail of the Fae killer. The bastard’s stench lingered, along with the Faerie blood that stained his vicious hands.

  With the golden Elvin steed L’th’amir following close behind, Evvan threaded his way through the depths of Merth Darkling. Bow and quiver resting across his naked back and sword slapping against his thigh, Evvan scowled, his mood as dark as the dense forest. Much larger and more powerfully built than the Seraphine Elves, the Devline were a fierce and proud warrior tribe. Their beliefs rested on their might, their strength as a people. Whereas the Seraphine allowed Seers and prophecies to dictate their futures, Devline Enforcers relied on their swords, their bows, their fists…and when needed, shrouding. When used with an enemy, shrouding allowed the Enforcer to cancel out all of his opponent’s senses, rendering the enemy incapable of fighting.

  Except that ability, unique to the Devline, had been useless against the Fae killer. That alone had convinced Evvan that he was dealing with a power far more sinister than anyone had imagined.

  Evvan’s muscles bunched and flexed with every movement he made, yet he traveled as silently as the Devline’s fair-skinned Seraphine cousins. Evvan’s skilled and refined senses noted every bent twig, every indentation in the rich loam, and every nuance or change in forest smells.

  L’th’amir’s hooves and Evvan’s boot-clad feet made not a sound as the pair worked their way through the treacherous forest, alert for any sign of the Fae killer or dangerous magical beasts. The golden-eyed Lycidian dragons made Merth Darkling their home and did not take kindly to travelers of any race or being invading their realm. The recent death of one of their kind at a Nordai’s hands had made them restless, edgy, and more dangerous than ever.

  The Enforcer had been tracking the Fae killer for three days now, and for the first time Evvan sensed the evil being was close. Very close. Rage flamed in Evvan’s gut for the Fae lives the murderer had taken, and he moved his hand to the hilt of his sword as though to strike out at the bastard in his thoughts. To use the point of the Elvin-forged blade to gouge out those orange eyes. Eyes that Evvan had glimpsed beneath the Fae killer’s dark hood when the vile beast had attempted to murder Anistana, Queen of Faerie.

  Aye, Evvan had prevented Anistana’s death, but it was his fault she had been there to begin with…and it was his fault Simoone had died.

  He gritted his teeth as he dodged the low-hanging branch of a bluewood tree. He could not forgive himself for the Faerie’s death at the killer’s hands, just six days past. This, despite the fact that the Overseers’ Council had determined the Fae killer was Voral, one of the most powerful dark Sorcerers in all of Dair’s recorded history.

  Which very well explained why the shrouding had not worked.

  But it mattered not what being had murdered Simoone. It had been Evvan’s responsibility to guard the Faeries of Astral and he had failed. Gods and goddesses of all peoples be damned, Evvan would not rest until he had avenged Simoone’s life.

  A sharp and bitter wind from the north lifted his thick black hair, stirring it about his massive shoulders. With the shift in the wind came an unfamiliar fragrance and he inhaled deeply. Sweet as the perfume of jensai blooms, yet more exotic. And feminine heat, a rich scent that caused his blood to boil and his cock to buck beneath his leather breeches. Instinctively, by scent and sense, he knew this was a woman accustomed to fine things, a warm bath, and silken sheets.

  What in the goddess’s name could such a fair woman be doing in Merth Darkling? Traveling unescorted, no less, in one of the most perilous places in all of Dair?

  A warning chill rolled over Evvan’s dark skin. Following the woman’s perfume was a sinister stench…the deadly malodor of a lycidian dragon.

  Goddess damn! Nothing could sway Evvan from his tracking. Nothing…but an innocent about to meet a horrid death.

  L’th’amir, the Enforcer shouted in mind-speak as he spun toward the golden steed. In a flash he mounted the horse and was seated in his leather saddle. Fly, my friend, Evvan instructed in thought, urging the magical beast toward the woman’s scent.

  On hooves as swift as the current in the Everlasting River, L’th’amir bolted through the forest toward the woman who faced certain peril. Evvan urged the Elvin stallion to go faster and faster yet, through pine, oak, and bluewood. Over fallen logs, around boulders, and across a stream. No longer were L’th’amir’s hooves silent. Nay, they thundered across the ground like the rush of an onco
ming summer storm. A magical sound that would fool the dragon until it was too late.

  Evvan and L’th’amir broke through the cover of trees and into a clearing.

  There she was. The woman.

  A redheaded maid, staring defiantly at the dragon—a full-grown monster at that—as though the beast was nothing more than a pet. As the lycidian reared back to strike, the daft woman turned her back on it, a haughty look upon her features—’til she saw L’th’amir.

  The stallion bore down on the maid and she screamed.

  Evvan splayed the fingers of one hand, palm facing the dragon. With a muttered oath, he invoked the power of the goddess, calling upon the shrouding, to snuff every one of the beast’s senses, including his fire and his sight.

  The lycidian’s eyes remained focused on the maiden…he widened his jaws and flames boiled at its throat.

  The shrouding had failed…but this time with the dragon.

  With his free arm, Evvan scooped up the maid as though she was a weightless child and flung her over his legs so that her belly lay across his lap. A blast of fire from the dragon seared the woman’s backside. Her scant clothing burst into flame and she screamed again.

  “Be calm, little one,” Evvan murmured as he leaned close, pressing himself to the woman’s back. Her screams became near hysterical as he snuffed the flames with his bare chest and hands, cooling her blistered skin by shrouding the nerves wherever the fire had singed her.

  It was a most useful skill. Shrouding could be used by an Enforcer to ensure his foe was quite defenseless, or to keep an innocent from feeling pain.

  And it was rumored to be most interesting to apply shrouding in the sexual arts.

  Evvan did not bother to shroud the pain in his own arm. The Devline tolerated pain far better than any other beings on Dair.

  The golden stallion never slowed his furious gallop, his hooves pounding the forest floor. From behind them came the dragon’s enraged roar and the throbbing whoosh of wings, along with sharp cracks and snaps of breaking branches and loud crashes of felled trees. L’th’amir dodged through the woods, choosing the densest paths in an attempt to make it more difficult for the beast to follow ’til they found a safe place to hide.