Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  Most of the ‘guests’ that arrived at the mansion did everything but kneel down and kiss Tussand’s shoes. Though she had not been around Vanzetti long, her instinct told her that Tussand had possibly met his match. Not that she would trust him. She trusted no one that stepped inside the mansion. But there was something about Vanzetti. The intensity of his gaze as he looked at her across the table. Something that made her heart seem to skip a beat and desire to build deep inside her. Huffing out a breath, she thought, You seriously need out of here and laid. Celibacy is turning you into a walking, talking hormone queen.

  Brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a motorcycle starting outside, the vision of sitting on the back of the bike, her arms wrapped around Vanzetti’s waist, her legs spread, her body pushing against him as he sped through the streets had moisture pooling between her thighs. Oh shit, get a damn grip on yourself. Lusting over a demon is NOT on the to-do list. Using her hands, she pushed off the wall, walking towards her bed as she heard the sounds of the bike fade into the distance. Her legs became weaker with each step. The sound faded away, and she clutched at her chest as pain rocketed through her, dropping her to her knees. She curled into a fetal position on the ground, sure at any moment she would split in two from the pain. She was barely aware of the sound of the door opening, footsteps crossing the floor. Startled as she looked up into Tussand’s face, his lips curled into a slight smile as he spoke.

  “I guess you should have done a little better job at keeping him here. If the legend is correct, the pain you feel will build until he returns. This is more than I could have possibly dreamed of. All the years of thinking it was just a legend and your reaction tells me what I needed to know - it’s true.”

  Pushing her over, reaching down and separating the slit in her dress, Kat watched his eyes as they began to swirl as his hand brushed over her thigh. The birthmark burned at his touch as if his fingers were matches burning into her skin. Struggling to crawl away, he held her in place. With one hand the beautiful gown was ripped from her body. His eyes locked onto her, looking over every inch as his hand followed their path.

  “Don’t touch me! Get the fuck off of me.”

  She felt unable to move, as if she were pinned to the floor by some invisible force. She knew from experience the force was him. She refused to cry as his hand drifted over her breast. His fingers toyed with the tight bud. “Just look at how you reacted to being in the same room with him. Your body so ready and willing for his touch.” She steeled her nerves, refusing to let go of the tears that threatened fall as his hand drifted down her stomach, across her mound and two fingers slid through the wet folds, dipping inside her. She refused to look away from him as he growled and brought his fingers to his mouth, closing his eyes as he savored her essence. “You’re so fucking tight, so sweet. The man that gets to finally squeeze his cock into that tight pussy of yours will be the luckiest man to walk the earth. Just a taste of you makes a man lose control.”

  She heard the sound of his zipper, the rustling of material indicating his pants were lowering, but she refused to look. She struggled as he took her hand in his and placed it on his shaft, forcing her fingers to wrap around it, stroking it slowly at first, his own hand wrapped over hers forcing the rhythm. “Gods know I want to be the man inside you, but destiny has other things in mind. I can’t tempt the fates, I can’t lose the power I have waited so long to have. I may not spill my seed deep within that hot pussy of yours, but you will wear it. When this little game is played out, Vanzetti is dead, and I have the power, you will be mine.”

  Wanting to cry at his words, the feel of him in her hand, there was no way she would give him the satisfaction. “I will never be yours, I belong to no one! Not you, not your friends. I swear I will get away from you one day and I will kill you the first chance I get.”

  Gasping as he suddenly moved, her legs were draped over his shoulders as he knelt between her legs. His sac brushed against her swollen sex. Never before had he gone this far. Sure, he had threatened many times to rape her over the years, but now she feared the time would come he’d make good on his promise. His hand began again to move over hers, stroking his shaft, harder, faster, lighter, stronger. Closing her eyes only briefly they snapped open at the sound of his voice. “Watch, little one, see what I give to you.”

  Tussand’s body began to shake and convulse; with a growl his seed jetted forth covering her body, her face. Their hands slowed, milking him of all of his seed before he let go. Reaching up he rubbed his seed into her skin, leaning down over her, whispering softly into her ear. “You smell like me now, little one. I love my scent on you. Vanzetti may be the one that will get to take your body first; I don’t have to say that bothers the shit out of me. My consolation is that I will be the last. Forever you will be mine. Now, sleep. I have a feeling we have some busy days ahead of us.”

  She lay motionless as he stood, adjusting his pants before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him. It wasn’t until Kat was sure he wasn’t going to return that she moved. Her body shook, and the tears she had fought to hold back burned a hot trail down her cheeks. She needed to get away before this got any further out of hand. Tussand was a madman, getting madder by the day. Her time was running out, and she knew it. Forcing herself to stand she walked on shaky legs to the shower, turning the water as hot as she could stand it before stepping inside, letting her back lean against the wall she slipped to the floor. The pain was still present in her chest, her body felt weak.

  What the hell has Tussand done to me? She sat on the floor and allowed herself to do what she usually denied herself: she began to cry.

  Chapter Six

  His eyes opened with excruciating pain, the dim light that seemed to blind him suddenly blocked, he turned his head in response to see who had darkened his view. The dark tan skin was aged like old leather, the black hair streaked with grey, with eyes that seemed old enough to know almost everything met his. “Maman.”

  She was not his mother, but she had been there since he had been turned. Years of lessons had endeared her to him; she was the unique goodness in his life. The fact she was able to stand him always a miracle to him. She had also been the one that had told him the stories, ones that since he was able to remember had haunted him.

  “Vous l'avez rencontré mon enfant. You met her, my child.” Her thick Cajun accent soothed him in some respect, speaking in French before repeating in English as if suddenly remembering where she was.

  “I met who?” He struggled through the words as if they were made of cement and he had to fight to tug them out of his very mouth.

  “Your other half.” She looked at him as if he were suddenly stupid.

  “That was a story. If it were true that the birthmark meant what you have told me for years, mind you, then I would surely have found something in my years of searching. Do you not think that I want that? To have my true mate. To find peace.”

  “Well now you have, so you find a way to keep her. Why do you not bring her here?” she asked him accusingly, her delicate-looking fingers bony and long pointing at him.

  “Because she is his right now. Matter of fact, I don't know what their deal is. She could be his wife for all I know.”

  “That should not have stopped you, child. You must go to her. You must, for the world to continue. You only be able to be strong with her. Now you weak. Like the rat. I no have any more magic to fix you. You must do it.”

  He ran his hand through his dark hair. Years of searching and reading every scroll he could find. Talking to monks, healers, hell anyone who would, and each time he came up empty. Each said the same thing, that when the two worlds met the pieces would bring immense pleasure and pain. But that love would be untouchable. He would look at the pictures; each looked so similar to his birthmark he had been unable to stop his quest. Each time he heard more of the story. But each storyteller would stop at the same spot, each would shake their heads and only once did one say something else.

/>   The old Amazon medicine man, who refused to be within the same building as him, forcing him to stand outside while he talked to him as if that would have stopped him from getting to him, had said that the union would be bound by the stars and the sun, but to beware the moon. He remembered thinking the man was crazy, but now as he lay on his bed the energy for the conversation taking everything he had in him he re-thought about those words.

  He watched as the old woman fussed at his staff, shuffling them out the door, her frail arms motioning them out before she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  Silky skin, big eyes sparkling, his mind drifted to her. The girl from dinner, why with all he had going on was he thinking of her? His pulse raced, his body heating as if a hot coal had been placed inside his very heart. Desire pulsed through him, a hardened need to satisfy her settled deep inside his soul. Dammit. This is not possible, I do not even know her. She was just the eye candy of that asshole.

  He pushed up from the bed, finding his energy so weak each movement seemed like it took everything from him. Yet the minute he thought of Kathryn, he felt a rush of energy fill him. Suddenly, it didn't seem so far to get to her. Why do I have the urge to go pull her from that home, to cover her in my scent, to fill her completely?

  “STEPHEN!” he yelled as picked up the jacket that was hanging on the back of the chair, pulling it on over his broad shoulders.

  “Yes, sir?” Turning, Alexei gave a nod at the 300-year-old vampire that looked like he had just turned 18 - if that.

  “I need you to take me somewhere. Bring the car around.”

  The nod of Stephen’s head was all he needed as he followed him into the room. His steps looked solid, but he felt anything but; his legs felt like rubber, and each step took extra care to finish. He knew he had to keep his momentum up, he could not let anyone know he was weak. That would be devastating to not only himself but the hold he had on the area.

  When he passed the old woman, he heard her chanting something in French. He didn't know what it was, but he was sure it was protection. She was the one person he trusted. He made his way to his car that sat waiting outside of his front door, Stephen standing beside the open door. As he passed the entry to the car, Alexei paused.

  “To my office.” He slid across the plush leather seat as the door closed, and Stephen walked around to the front. He had to get to his office. All the data was there that he had not gone over. His researchers worked day and night to find any piece of information he could use. And right now he needed that unknown piece. His mind was running through questions when he suddenly felt like he was going to fly. His body became alive. The desire to run, break out of the car and take off became unbearable. His breath became short, and in the second he hit the button on the window he realized they were passing the home of Tussand.

  “Slow down.” The car slowed to a crawl and he stared up at the window on the top right. He saw movement, and his fingers grasped the glass, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Her face shone in the sunlight that filtered into her. She was stunning, and for some unknown reason, he knew she was his. All his.

  Chapter Seven

  Standing at the window of her bedroom, dressed in the finest teal satin nightgown, her long blonde hair hung nearly to her waist. This wasn’t the getup she would have preferred; it was what Tussand had left for her to wear. That thought alone had her nerves on edge as to what was going to happen next. Kat looked out over the grounds and thought about what she wouldn’t give for an old tee shirt and a pair of shorts. How she wished, and not for the first time, that they were closer to the Quarter so she could watch the people travel in and out of the shops and bars. It didn’t matter the time of the year, the people of New Orleans always knew how to party. They flocked there by the millions. Not just for Mardi Gras, but all year round. Searching for the magic that called people to the city. She placed a hand against the window as she wished she could find the magic. As if on cue she felt something. Her chest no longer hurt, she was no longer weak. She watched as a car stopped suddenly on the street in front of the mansion. Her eyes were drawn to it as if someone or probably more accurately something inside was demanding her attention. The windows were tinted dark and she couldn’t see who waited in the opening, but she could feel his eyes upon her. Her skin tingled and her body covered in gooseflesh. His name was a whisper on her lips, “Vanzetti.”

  There was no other person, beast, whatever the hell he was that brought out that reaction in her. His face flashed in her mind. The shock of dark, nearly black hair that her fingers had ached to run through. The crystal blue of his eyes that seemed to leave her exposed to him. As if with just a look she would do as he wished. She startled at the sound of a knock on the door, tearing her gaze away from the car at the street to watch Mila enter the room, tray in hand.

  “Master Tussand has sent you a bit of a snack before you retire for the evening. He feared you would not be able to sleep well tonight. Not much, just some beignets and cocoa. Nothing better to help a lady sleep.”

  “Thanks, Mila, that was really sweet but unnecessary. I don’t have a much of an appetite.” Kat watched as the girl placed the tray on the table before moving to the bed and turning down the blankets. “I really wish you wouldn’t fuss over me, Mila. You know as well as I do that I am not a guest in this house. Someday I will walk out of this house and never look back.”

  Mila glanced up at her as she straightened the blankets. “Master Tussand has told us all that one day you will be the Lady of the house. He is in quite a generous mood today, claiming that things have finally begun to fall into place. He even went so far as to ask Felicia to begin preparations for wedding festivities. You could do a far sight worse than that of Master Tussand. I had thought that after the two of you spent some time together after Lord Vanzetti left you had changed your mind. Master seemed too pleased when he had left your suite. Now, that Lord Vanzetti, he was a looker was he not? He and Master are so different but somehow seem the same. You do know that they are said to be two of the most eligible bachelors in all of New Orleans? I’m sure Lord Vanzetti has a female waiting for him at every destination. How could he not! That is one male whose dirty boots I wouldn’t mind under my bed.”

  The mere thought of Vanzetti’s boots taking up residence under anyone’s bed nearly made Kat’s blood boil. “Mila, that will be all.”

  With a nod of her head, Mila closed her mouth and left the room. Never could Kat remember when she welcomed the silence as much as she did at this moment. Why the hell would Mila or any other woman’s interest in Vanzetti get under her skin? He was nothing more than another one of Tussand’s thug friends. Her sudden burst of energy seemed to fade as quickly as it had come. She turned quickly and placed her hand against the window and looked out at the street. The car was slowly pulling away. She walked shakily to her bed, her legs nearly giving out as she sat down on the edge before pulling herself to lay down. What spell had been cast against her? Who cast the spell? She had been fine until Vanzetti had shown up. Rubbing the birthmark on her thigh, which suddenly felt engulfed in flames, she gasped as Tussand appeared beside her. He reached down and pulled the blankets over her before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “It will not be long now my little one. Sleep, rest. We need you looking your best when Lord Vanzetti returns.”

  It was as if she had no choice, his lips pressed against forehead, she wanted to scream and fight but, as always, her eyes simply closed as sleep overtook her.

  Chapter Eight

  Papers scattered across his desk, the pen he had been jotting down notes with flew across the room, shattering against the wall across from him. Everything he searched through, every line, every word, they all said the same thing. Nothing, absolutely nothing was helping him. The only thing he could do was to follow his instincts. They had always worked for him before. The door opened and his secretary came in, her skirt so tight it strained against her movement. For year
s, she had thrown herself at him. And he expected nothing less today, yet for some reason, her appearance set him on edge. Literally making him ill.

  “Yes?” He looked at her drolly,hoping that would be enough to make her run out of his office for at least the rest of the time he was there.

  “Just checking on you. You know, you look like you're a bit tense. What do you say we go out to one of the clubs? Enjoy a bit of the chase and see where that takes us. I promise you it will ease all your worries. I am very good at what I do.” Her finger ran up his arm, and he did his best to not just rip her finger off her hand. Requesting to go on the hunt with him was expected. The real goal was not the blood but the effects. When you feed fresh, the endorphins rush your system, and even the most devout purists could not help but become aroused. Clubs catered to them, using the cover of sex clubs and BDSM dungeons. Private rooms gave the privacy, domination did the rest.

  “Do not touch me. Ever. I do not want to go on the hunt with you. I do not want to have sex with you.” He stood up and grasped the leather-bound journal that he had found the latest batch of information in. “I am leaving, and Nattie, be gone when I return. And yes, I mean pack your desk. You're fired.”

  Shock appeared on her face as she raised her hand to her mouth before turning in a huff and slamming the door on her way out. The smile on his face could not be held back; it was the only reprieve to the aggravation and pain that was filling his world at this point. Standing and looking out the window he thought back through the day. Now that the sun had set, his eyes didn't hurt as much. Yet everything else was drained. He had only felt better when he was close to her, despite the fact it was across the space that divided them.