The_First_Night

by Lexi Blake

  “But if I stay, I can protect her.”

  He walks over to a side table and pours out a goblet of wine. “Drink this and then we’ll talk about you going back.”

  “We’ll talk about me staying.”

  “Drink.” He holds out the glass.

  I take the wine. Alcohol is forbidden in the harem, though I know it flows freely in the palace. Slowly sipping the sweet, honeyed liquor, I postpone the inevitable conversation that I know we can’t avoid for long.

  I can’t bear to leave him. But how can I stay? Somewhere Scheherazade longs to come home, to her own time. Just as I wanted to go home to mine before Khalid arrived at the palace. Who am I to make a decision that will affect her forever? But how can I go?

  “It’s time, my love.” Khalid holds my clothes. “Let me help you.”

  He dresses me, his hands slowly smoothing down the fabric. Once the ribbons are tied, he kisses my forehead, takes my hand and leads me over to the mirror.

  The tall, freestanding reflecting glass, framed with gold carvings of exotic birds and flowers, dominates the room. Khalid reaches for it, his muscles flexing as he strains to move it closer to the door.

  I can’t help myself. He’s so beautiful. Reaching out, I trace the muscles in his back. It will be dangerous to stay here, but my decision is made. I’m going to stay and make a life with this man in this time.

  “Are you done? Did you drink it all?” Khalid asks.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel?

  “It didn’t go to my head the way I thought it would. If anything my thoughts seem more lucid.”

  And then, suddenly my legs feel weak and buckle under me.

  Khalid grabs me, holds me up. “Yes, you’ve had enough to do the job.”

  “The job?” Suspicion seeps into my mind. “What did you give me? What are you doing?”

  Still holding me, he positions me in front of the mirror but I don’t see either my reflection or Scherezade’s. The surface is cloudy, swirling. I turn and search out Khalid’s eyes.

  He answers my question before I can even ask it. “I’m saving you, love. If you stay and the king calls for you, you’ll fight him and he’ll put you to death. Even though I wish it were not so, this isn’t the time for us. You must leave before disaster happens.”

  In the mirror the shadows fade and I can see Scherezade sitting at my desk in my home. Scheherazade is reading one of my books. Her lips—my lips—turn up in a grin as if she’s getting pleasure from the story.

  “I’ve been selfish,” Khalid explains. “And now it’s almost too late. If I don’t send you back soon, you’ll never be able to go home.”

  In the mirror, Scheherazade looks up. From the direction of her gaze, I know she’s looking into the mirror on my bedroom wall. She cocks her head. Is she seeing me? Getting up, she crosses the room. It’s so peculiar to watch me walking toward me. Once she’s standing right in front of the mirror, she holds her hand out to me.

  As if it has a will of its own, my hand reaches out for hers.

  She places her palm flat on the mirrored surface and I do the same.

  “I will always love you, Camille. Never doubt it,” Khalid whispers behind me.

  My body feels lighter. I have trouble staying grounded. All of my cells form a live wire, ready to spark. My muscles and my bones hum. I can feel my soul rising up. Whatever magic Khalid has worked, it’s too strong for me to resist.

  I try to stay centered on Khalid and on this time and place, but all of my memories crowd out the present reality. I see myself as a child, so quiet and shy my parents think I will never have a friend. I hear myself telling them I do have a friend even if no one else can see him. The memory has escaped me until this moment.

  I have dreamed of Khalid. He was the shadow playmate I spoke of. When no one else was around, he was there. He was the one who ran with me and played through my nightly dreams, giving me strength.

  I’ll be your friend, Camille. I’ll be your friend forever.

  A dark-haired boy with lovely brown eyes and bronze skin that almost glowed. How could I have forgotten him?

  It’s happening too fast. I’m unraveling. Too many images exploding too quickly. Any moment, I’ll be back in my own time. Will I be able to remember Khalid once I’m there? Will I be able to find him once more?

  And then I hear something. I try to focus. To listen. Is it someone crying? Am I crying? No, it’s Khalid. My strong, smart man is weeping.

  He needs me.

  I see a bright blue flash and I jolt backward, hitting the floor. When I open my eyes, the mirror is merely a mirror again.

  Khalid lifts me up, carrying me back to the bed. “It failed. My magic failed.”

  Relief floods my system. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”

  “Why didn’t it work?” He sits next to me. I can feel his frustration. “It should have worked. What did I do wrong?”

  He’s berating himself. Going over his spell again and again, listing what he used, trying to find his error.

  I think I know, but I’m not sure I should tell him. He is anchoring me here. My love for him will not allow my soul to leave without him.

  If I am to leave this place, he must come with me.

  I sit and watch him, perfectly content to be here now.

  * * * *

  Much later, under a full moon that shines down on the palace, the king holds court. Looking over the crowd, I seek out my lover.

  Khalid sits in a chair beside the throne. He pours the king a libation from a golden carafe. Liquid spills into a silver goblet studded with turquoise and rubies.

  Suddenly Khalid looks up. His eyes meet mine. The magi’s face is so grim and serious that I want to weep. I want to go to him and wrap him in my arms and promise him that everything will be all right, though I doubt he will believe me. But I believe it. We are meant to be together. And as long as we are careful, we will avoid danger and be fine.

  I watch the king quaff the drink and then turn and speak to a nobleman on his right. I wander away from the crowd, to a quiet corner of the garden. I need to prepare for this evening’s tale. Staring up into the heavens, the stars sparkle down on me. In their bright light I see hope. Promise. I see the future. I see a second night and a third.

  “Ah, the lovely Scheherazade.” The king’s dark voice sends a chill up my spine.

  I turn. He stands behind me and next to him is his chief advisor, Abdul. I didn’t even hear them approach.

  “I’m so glad you survived the poisoning attempt my dear,” the king says. “I have no idea what I would do without your tales.”

  “None of us do, my king,” says Abdul. The Grand Vizier is thin to the point of looking emaciated. His rich robes hang off his frame. Something about him reminds me of a ghoul. “Since you brought this delightful beauty into our midst, we’ve been entertained as no court has before. Isn’t it time to make her presence here official?”

  My hands start to shake. “Official?”

  “Of course. You were brought here to be the king’s bride.” The vizier looks at me and in his beady brown eyes, I sense menace. “It is long past the time to make good on the promise. I’m sure you’re good for more than just telling stories.”

  “Don’t frighten the girl, Abdul. She’s an innocent.” He cups my chin in his hand. His touch is more gentle than I expect and in his eyes is a softness that I don’t recognize. “There is time enough for marriage, my lovely girl. For now, just tell me your stories, Scheherazade. I have been so looking forward to this evening’s tale.”

  I watch them as they walk away to take their seats again. Khalid was right. The king will not allow me to remain chaste forever. This is only a temporary reprieve. I’m safe for now, but the king will claim me one day.

  Until then, I will be with the husband of my soul. As often as I can. It will not be easy. We will have hundreds of eyes on us, watching our every move. If we’re caught, we’ll be executed. Danger wi
ll be waiting for us at the end of every corridor. The palace will be even more hazardous and treacherous than it has been up till now.

  Except I have something on my side now that I didn’t have before. I have the magic of a man who is the last of his tribe. Who can take wine and turn it into a potion that could send me back to my own time…or into a potion that can tame a wild king at least for one night. At least for tonight. And hopefully for tomorrow night and the night after that.

  Khalid smiles at me now. He knows I’ve figured it out. His eyes twinkle as I step forward to begin my tale.

  There were times to drool over a sexy wolf.

  Sitting in the middle of a war room disguised as a board meeting was not one of those times.

  Gina Jamenson did her best not to stare at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man across the room. The hint of ink peeking out from under his shirt made her want to pant. She loved ink and this wolf clearly had a lot of it. Her own wolf within nudged at her, a soft brush beneath her skin, but she ignored her. When her wolf whimpered, Gina promised herself that she’d go on a long run in the forest later. She didn’t understand why her wolf was acting like this, but she’d deal with it when she was in a better place. She just couldn’t let her wolf have control right then—even for a man such as the gorgeous specimen a mere ten feet from her.

  I continue on even as I look at my own gorgeous specimen. He sits back and smiles my way. I hold the audience in the palm of my hand, but he is the only one who really matters. I know now that he is why I tell stories. He is why I breathe, why I continue on.

  I will tell these tales even as I write one of my own. I pray we shall have a happy ending…

  1001 Dark Nights

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  By Lexi Blake

  Coming February 17, 2015

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  A woman on a mission

  Phoebe Graham is a specialist in deep cover espionage, infiltrating the enemy, observing their practices, and when necessary eliminating the threat. Her latest assignment is McKay-Taggart Security Services, staffed with former military and intelligence operatives. They routinely perform clandestine operations all over the world but it isn’t until Jesse Murdoch joins the team that her radar starts spinning. Unfortunately so does her head. He’s gorgeous and sweet and her instincts tell her to trust him but she’s been burned before, so he’ll stay where he belongs—squarely in her sights.

  A man on the run

  Since the moment his Army unit was captured by jihadists, Jesse’s life has been a nightmare. Forced to watch as those monsters tortured and killed his friends and the woman he loved, something inside him snapped. When he’s finally rescued, everyone has the same question—why did he alone survive? Clouded in accusations and haunted by the faces of those he failed, Jesse struggles in civilian life until McKay-Taggart takes him in. Spending time with Phoebe, the shy and beautiful accountant, makes him feel human for the first time in forever. If someone so innocent and sweet could accept him, maybe he could truly be redeemed.

  A love they never expected

  When Phoebe receives the order to eliminate Jesse, she must choose between the job she’s dedicated her life to and the man who’s stolen her heart. Choosing Jesse would mean abandoning everything she believes in, and it might mean sharing his fate because a shadowy killer is dedicated to finishing the job started in Iraq.

  * * * *

  Jesse pushed through the double doors, his whole being surprisingly calm. This was what he needed. He’d been sitting in his office waiting for her to wake up, thinking about how he would handle this interrogation with some modicum of civility.

  It was so good to know civility wasn’t going to be required.

  It wasn’t so good to realize that the minute she’d opened that bratty mouth, he’d gotten hard as hell and he wanted to fuck her more than he wanted to figure her out. There was a little voice playing in his head that told him to just get inside her and all those secrets would open for him. All he had to do was thrust inside her tight body and the mysteries of the universe would reveal themselves.

  Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. He was going to do his job and find out who she worked for and then he would walk away from her. He wasn’t going to hold her tenderly or hope she could love him. No. It was time to grow the fuck up. How was it being through what he’d been through in Iraq hadn’t managed to teach him what this one woman had? He needed to shut down and do his job.

  But that didn’t mean parts of his job couldn’t be very pleasurable.

  “Uhm, Jesse, don’t you think you should handle this in the conference room? It’s where Ian planned on keeping her.” Adam Miles’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion.

  “No.” He knew the old Jesse would have stopped, but this was between him and Phoebe.

  “Adam, I can really explain. This is all one huge misunderstanding.” Phoebe tried to bring her head up.

  Th
at was an easy move to counter. He brought his hand down on that sweet, sweet ass. Phoebe had the damn prettiest ass he’d ever watched for hours and drooled over, and now he had zero reason to not spank that gorgeous flesh. He heard that sound, that smack as his hand hit her, and he felt her shiver. She didn’t scream. Nope. He’d thought if he smacked her good, she would call him a fucking pervert, but he’d been a dumbass idiot and this Phoebe just moaned a little as the slap went through her.

  It wasn’t the type of moan that would cause him to stop spanking a sub at Sanctum.

  Motherfucker. He knew he hadn’t been wrong about her. He’d thought there was a submissive streak buried under her “I’m a good girl so don’t fuck my sweet little asshole” exterior.

  “The only explanation is I’m a dirty little spy and I need to tell my captor everything in order to keep him from slapping my ass silly.” He couldn’t be professional with her. It wouldn’t work. It would only serve to put distance between them, and now he could see that distance was what she’d worked for the whole time. She hadn’t let him do more than hold her hand and give her an awkward peck. She’d had him convinced he just wasn’t her type, but he could smell her now. Yeah, that wasn’t sweet or gentlemanly, but then that obviously didn’t work for her. “She likes me slapping her ass. Take a deep whiff, Adam, and you’ll be able to tell she’s aroused.”

  She gasped and her whole torso came up off his. “Jesse!”

  Yeah, she sounded like a pissed off girlfriend, but she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was the woman who had played him and then nearly painted her initials on his chest. And he was the idiot who had stood there and almost begged her to do it.