“Fuck!” Nolan’s voice cuts through the thoughts swirling around in my head.
He takes all five of the new arrivals down, then moves so fast he blurs. He springs back on his feet, hauls up two of the strangers, knocks their heads together—literally— then flings them aside. Bends and slams his massive fist into the face of the third, lifts his foot and crashes it down into the chest of the fourth. The sound of breaking bones rends the air. I wince.
The fifth man staggers to his feet.
Only Nolan is already there. He lowers his head and brings it up in a sweep that crashes into the chin of his opponent. The man sinks to the floor. Nolan stands there, his arms propped on his waist. His shoulders heave as he draws in a breath. He tosses his head and turns sideways. A smirk curls his lips. The light from the open door caresses his face, highlighting the nooks and angles of his chiseled body. He's all sharp edges and hard planes. My throat goes dry.
The men around him on the floor don’t move. He cants his head, then peels back his lips, and his canines drop.
I gulp.
Heat flushes my skin.
Why do I find the sight of those sharp teeth so arousing? It’s a sign of just how different this man is from me. It's not just that he is Fae and I am human, but how completely out of my sphere he is. Macho. Hot. Sexy. Alpha-hole, who could have any woman, and he came for me. “Why?”
“Why what?” He angles his head, not even out of breath after that flurry of violence.
I strain against my bindings. “Why are you here?"
“Why do you think?” One side of his lips curls in an arrogant smirk.
My belly clenches. A glance from him and I’ll forget everything. Where I am, how much danger we’re both in. Everything for his fiery gaze, one whiff of that heady scent of his, one touch of that hair-roughened skin of his jaw as it rakes over the inside of my thighs...
I swallow hard. “Answering a question with a question.” I press my lips together, "Typical macho behavior."
“Let’s get one thing clear, Red. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” He leans forward on the balls of his feet. “Ever.”
He glares at me and I gulp. He has that whole dominant thing going for him and it's hot. Really hot. My sex contracts; liquid heat pools between my thighs. I lower my eyes.
He draws in a breath. “Now you choose to give in to me?”
He groans, and the rough intonation tugs at my nerves.
“You sure choose your moments, Red.”
“Red?” I frown.
His gaze rakes over my features. “Your hair, it’s dark, almost black, yet when the sunlight pours over it, I see the glints of…”
“Red,” I say at the same time as him. “You noticed.”
“I notice everything about you."
O-k-a-y. Did not realize that.
He takes a step toward me and my pussy clenches. So not the time to be thinking about how much I want this man. How at his mercy I am. Bound
here on the floor, ready for him to take me and fuck me and… The door swings open. A burst of red-and-white energy swoops down and smashes into his back. His big body shakes.
“Nolan…” I scream.
He looks down at his chest. I follow his gaze and gasp.
A flash of fire blazes out, burning through the shirt. Whatever hit him from behind has burned right through his torso. No. No. I try to breathe and find I can't.
The scent of burning flesh fills the air.
His breath hitches and that sound...that little note that escapes his lips fractures something inside of me. I swing my gaze back to his face. Color leaches from his skin. He lifts his gaze to mine.
“Red…” He opens his mouth, and blood drips from the side of his lips.
“No.” I scream, then roll up to my knees and try to spring forward. My bonds yank me back. The energetic chains cut into my arms. Pain lacerates my nerves, shudders down my spine. “Nolan.”
The sound of his name fills my ears, the sight of his body swaying fills my vision.
He turns toward the doorway and his shoulders stiffen.
He swivels back to me, takes a step forward, then collapses to his knees. He raises his hand and his features twist. Sweat shines on his brow. “Forgive me.”
His body lurches to the side, and he crumples.
A man steps forward, clad in formal pants and a button-down shirt.
He bares his lips, displaying holes where his front teeth should be. “Hello, little Virgin. You are going to get me a pretty penny at auction.”
Turning around, he raises his foot and brings it down on the fallen Nolan’s face.
4
Alice
Nolan’s dead, and all because of me. He came to save me and paid with his life. He should have left when he had a chance. But I had been too focused on talking to him.
I’d been selfish and occupied his attention. I’d distracted him, and they had taken him by surprise. They had overpowered him and killed him. My eyelids snap open and I take in my surroundings. Not a dream. I am still in the cell. My heart shatters, and I come upright from the floor. My gaze arrows back to where Nolan had fallen, to the splash of blood on the floor which is all that remains.
Soldiers had come and dragged away Nolan’s body.
The man who'd shot Nolan had walked up to me and told me that tomorrow I’ll be sold.
I’ll be taken to the auction, where virgins are sold to the highest bidders from around the region.
I’m not an animal… I am human, at the bottom of the food chain in a hierarchy where Faes dominate and shifters are only a step below. Everyone else is third, and humans? We don’t figure. Except for the one thing I am which makes me of consequence, even in this messed-up order of things. You guessed it, I am a virgin, Go figure. I’ve been saving myself, for…for Nolan. There, I admit it.
So I have silly notions of wanting my virginity to be taken by the man who means something to me. Stupid romantic that I am.
I’d seen him, and my instincts had locked in on him and never let go. I had hoped…that one day…perhaps he’d be the one? The band around my chest tightens; the pressure behind my eyeballs grows. Tears slide down my cheeks. Stupid tears. Is that all I have left? The only man I have ever wanted is dead, because of me. I sniffle. I need to avenge him. I dig my nails into my palms.
I need to stay alive and find a way to hurt those who killed Nolan.
The sound of the door opening sends fear racing over my skin. I roll up to a sitting position. The bindings tear into my flesh, but I ignore the pain. Nolan faced this and more. At least he hadn’t suffered much before he died… I think. A sob catches in my throat.
He’d collapsed, and his gaze had still been on me. His big body had shuddered, the cords of his beautiful throat had moved as if he were saying something. Then the bastard who’d shot him had stepped in the way.
As if my thoughts conjure him, the hated figure of my captor appears at the door.
He raises glowing fingers. The bands tying me shudder, and I look down to find they’ve dropped away.
He claps his hands, and the noise echoes in the space, “Come, Virgin.”
Never before have I had hated myself as much as now. I should have lost my virginity much earlier. If I get out of here, I am going to…yeah, I am going to make sure I lose that piece of skin inside of me that proclaims me to be untouched.
“Chop-chop, bitch, don’t want to keep the clients waiting.”
I heave myself to my feet.
My knees stay steady. Progress. I take a step forward, and my stomach heaves. The taste of bile fills my mouth, and I swallow down the need to lean over and hurl. Nolan. I am going to get through this for Nolan. I force myself to put one foot in front of the other, to keep going. I cross the floor of the cell until I reach the man standing there. The heat from his body laps at my nerves, and I cringe. He fixes those dark eyes on me, and there’s nothing behind them. Empty. Cold. As if whatever he’d once been has been torn apart and swallowed by t
he shell of the man who’s facing me.
“Who are you?” The words spill from my lips before I can stop myself.
"Haven't you heard of the arch-enemy of the Fae Corps, the only leader who is fit to lead all the Fae.”
“Boris.” I breathe out.
Of course, it’s the deposed Commander of the Fae, the one who hates our current leader, Dante’s guts. Who is on a mission to wipe out the Fae Corps.
“Right answer.” He claps his hands.
The sound shrivels my skin. I want to sink down to the floor and roll myself into a ball to shut out the sight of those hateful bloated eyes of his, but I don’t. For Nolan. I’ll get through this and live for Nolan. I pull myself up to my full height. “What's the hold-up?”
His gaze widens and he nods as a smile begins to form. “You still have fight left in you. The clients want that. Gives them some personality to latch onto. Most relish a fight before they take you.”
My stomach lurches, and I am almost sick then. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and press my feet into the floor for purchase. “Whatever.” I glare at him.
He chuckles, then lifts his finger and runs it down my cheek. “Such a pity Doc’s not here to watch his woman being taken as she deserves, by a beast who’s going to rip into you and tear you in two.” He snaps his jaw, and the clack is so loud that I jump.
“Don’t talk about him.”
“You are hardly in a position to negotiate.” He shakes his head. “The delusions we feed ourselves, thinking we are the masters of our destiny, but we are not. Your entire life depends on how merciful I am going to feel—or not…”
“Here I thought you were going to sell me to the highest bidder.”
“I am, but behave, and you may just get lucky… I’ll make sure you find your way into the hands of one who’ll torture you only briefly before taking you. And kill you fast enough, so you don’t suffer. Get me?”
Sure, I do, but damn if I am going to grovel in front of this creature. The man who murdered my Nolan. I lean forward on the balls of my feet, “Fuck off.”
Boris' features darken, then he snakes out his palm and slaps me. My head snaps back. My cheek throbs, tears spring from my eyes, and I am sure my teeth have fallen out. I stagger back and would have fallen except he grabs my arm.
“Come on then, let’s get you to your rightful owner. You have a date with death, and she doesn’t have the compunctions that I do.”
He yanks me along, and I half fall against him, managing to right myself before more of my skin comes in contact with him. His grasp squeezes into my upper arm as he steps up his pace. My arm feels like it is being pulled out of its socket. We race up a long corridor.
Faces peer at us from the cells on either side. All slaves. The scent of unwashed human flesh and sewage stings my nose. The images blur into one another until my head spins.
I stumble and fall and he drags me along, my legs trailing behind us. When he reaches the end of the corridor, he turns down another, then the floor swoops up.
He pulls me to my feet, up a few steps, and thrusts me onto a raised platform.
A floodlight shines in my eyes, and I blink. My stomach flip-flops, sweat laces my palms.
He pushes me, so I move another few steps.
“Here’s the prize of the evening. Presenting a rare treat for all of you: a virgin human. Who wants to start the bidding?”
5
Doc
Fuck, am I dead?
I try to move, and my back screams in protest. My chest burns. My shoulders spasm, sending pain shooting down my spine. I crack open my eyelids and the pounding at my temples ratchets up to a screech. Fuck me. I pant. White pain coils in my chest, compressing my rib cage.
Sweat breaks out on my forehead; every muscle in my body protests. I push myself over to my back and scream as pain cuts through my side. Fuck, fuck. My mouth goes dry; my stomach heaves.
Bile rushes up, and I turn my head to the side just in time for the puke to hurl out of me. When the spasm passes, I lay back, struggling to breathe, limbs twitching.
The sound of clapping reaches me, then a voice speaking, fading in and out. I can’t make out the words. I crack my eyelids open, and the glare stabs my eyes. I wince and look around; I am in some kind of enclosed space. There are tattered pieces of cloth lying around, some bloodstained. Clearly, it’s some kind of holding pen, but for what? A scream whips through the area, and my muscles go on alert. The pain recedes, and every instinct snaps to attention.
"Alice." I breathe out her name.
Another scream is cut off. Did someone clap a hand over her mouth?
Alice...Boris hit me from behind. The images pour over me. My heartbeat catches up, and blood pounds in my ears. Fuck, Alice, why are they hurting her? How long was I out, and what did that asshole Boris, use on me?
Telekinetic energy, but of a strength that ripped into me with such force that despite my fast-healing powers, my wounds still throb.
Silence descends, and that’s worse.
Whatever they’re doing to her, she will not survive. Oh, my human is fiery, maybe too much. Bet she stood up to Boris, and bet that only made him angrier.
Why have they not thrown away my body?
Perhaps he wants to use me as a trophy or a negotiating instrument? Either way, that fucker is not going to get away with this. I am going to to…what…? Well, I’m not getting myself killed or wounded again, for one. I am going to find a way to get out of here and get to her.
The sound of a woman’s voice reaches me. It’s too far away to decipher the words. But the pitch of it, the tenor, that incandescent lilt to it, all of it is hers. Alice. I lurch to my feet, and the world spins.
I squeeze my eyes shut, press my feet into the floor for purchase. I manage to right myself—I am coming, Alice, hold on. I take a step forward, and my legs don’t give way from under me. Progress.
Who’d have thought the man who faced down the monster who had turned his very childhood into a living hell, couldn't bear the thought of this little human being hurt.
My father had not only raped me, he'd used his words to hurt me, and when he’d gotten tired of that, he'd used his fists.
He'd tell me every day just how I didn’t deserve to live. How I’d killed my mother at birth, how he’d never forgiven me for taking away the only person who’d redeemed him. He’d made me hate myself—my reflection, my face, my voice. Until I couldn’t stand to see myself in the mirror.
Oh, he’d fed me, clothed me, provided a roof over my head. He'd also emotionally broken me.
He’d destroyed all pictures of my mother, so I’ve never known how she looked. Then, the day I'd turned fifteen, he'd gotten drunk and revealed that I hadn’t been responsible for her death. It had been him all along.
He’d suspected her of being unfaithful, had known when I was born that I wasn’t his just by the color of my skin. A darker shade than his own. He’d known then I was not his son. He’d decided I wasn’t his and had killed her.
He’d gloated about how she had died, the love of his life, the woman sent to redeem his soul. He’d hacked her to pieces in her bed next to where I lay, a newly born child.
He’d taunted her that he’d never let her son go, that he’d torture her child so her soul would never find release. His eyes had rolled back, spittle flying from his mouth as he’d swallowed the last of the liquor, before aiming the bottle at me. But I’d changed…his words had ignited that spark inside of me that insisted I avenge my mother.
I had grabbed his hand and shoved it, bringing down the bottle on his head and smashing it into his nose, his chin.
His grasp had loosened. I had torn the bottle from him, then smashed it into his chest. Pulled it out and hit him with it again and again.
I hadn’t stopped, even when it was clear he was dead.
I had kept going until the cops had arrived and separated me from the corpse of what had been my only parent. The coldness that had gripped my heart ha
s stayed with me since. That strange calm that I had pulled over myself, knowing I’d have to live with the sight of those crumpled features, those sightless eyes, the lifeless form of my nemesis, will haunt me for as long as I’m alive.
Pain shoots down my back, my legs. It wipes away all of those images, all thoughts except one. Her. I need to get to her. The one person who pierced that fog of nothingness and brought me to life, and I’m not going to let her go.
I’m going to make sure she lives, even if I have to kill myself for it.
I curl my fingers into fists and push forward, one foot in front of another. Keep going. Don’t stop. I reach the door to the cell and kick it open. My chest hurts, my legs ache, but I will not stop. I lurch through the exit, toward the sound of cheering.
Reaching the steps, I look up and spot her on the stage.
6
Alice
The light is in my eyes, and I can’t see the audience. The sound of jeering assails me. I don’t need to see them to sense the lust that rolls off of the assembled males.
And they are all men, I sense that by the sounds of their panting, the yells. That barely leashed need to rip into me, to mount me, to tear me apart and have me. These men are here for only one reason. To let their base desires hang out, to not pretend, and to give in to the beasts that reside within each of them. The need to hurt me, to show they are stronger, more superior genetically, the stronger sex. Men. Not all men are monsters though. Doc, he’s different. On the surface, he may resemble another alpha-hole who won’t hesitate to hurt to get his way, but he's also a protector.
He'd never take advantage of those weaker than him. He'd fight for the underdog. He'd cherish me, and not because I’m the weaker sex but because he wants to. Because regardless of what he said, he’d looked at me...like I’m his safe harbor. And I am…except he’s dead.
Anger floods my blood, adrenaline spikes, and my breath comes in pants. I am done being the victim here. I have nothing to lose. I don’t care about my virginity—if that’s what they want, they can have it—but I am not going to give in easily. No way am I going to let him walk away after what he did to my man. And he is. Mine.
Seduced by the Fae Page 2
