The Jewel's Treasure [Celestial Jewels 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by J. Annas Walker

  Brandon’s brow furrowed. His jaw clenched. The throbbing cock buried in her pussy filled her with sticky cream. A guttural noise escaped his throat as he came.

  Sabrina did not stop. She embraced his orgasm, allowing his pleasure to increase her own. Higher and higher, she felt the tension spiral. Stroking up and down his cock, teasing her clit, her quivering pussy turned to quaking and then into full spasms as her orgasm crashed into her.

  It felt like a tidal wave of emotions. Love for the man beneath her. Lust for his body. She wanted to protect him from the world. She wanted his devotion and commitment forever. Jealousy blended in at the thought that he had ever given himself to another goddess.

  He was her disciple, her priest. He worshipped at her altar with his body and soul, with his love and affection. She took his offering and gave him herself in return.

  The inner lioness stretched and panted, taking in the smell of sex and blood. She relished this claim. She was Regina and claimed this man her as a part of her pride.

  Brandon held Sabrina’s hips. He slowly ran one hand across her belly, smearing his blood across her skin. He gave her a wide grin.

  “You look beautiful like that,” he said.

  “Like how?” Sabrina knew, but she wanted to hear him say the words.

  “Like a beautiful woman taking what she wants and enjoying it. Like a vampire. You truly are an amazing creature,” he said.

  Sabrina leaned over and licked his neck. The neat pinholes made by her fangs healed quickly, but the blood on his skin was still fresh. She relished the metallic taste, but he was not human. Her hunger started to return.

  “If Dad weren’t here, I’d demand you stay undressed all night,” she teased. “But as he is, we better get dressed before going down for breakfast.” She grabbed her cotton nightgown off the floor beside them and slipped it over her head.

  She watched his face as she slowly rose to a standing position. The feel of his cock leaving her pussy left her with a sense of longing for him. Their sticky juices trickled down her thighs, prompting her to sigh.

  “I’m going to need a bath,” she announced, looking down at where the cotton fabric stuck to the blood on her body. “And a new gown. This’ll never come out.” She made an annoyed noise that sounded like a hrumpf.

  Brandon sat up. “You still look beautiful to me,” he said and smiled.

  Sabrina returned the smile and closed her eyes. She stretched her mind beyond the bedroom. The only thing she sensed was Hadrian rustling the newspaper and setting his mug down as quietly as possible in the kitchen. The force outside the window seemed to have left.

  She opened her eyes and reached out to the hazy shadows protecting them. As her fingertips brushed the surface, dark rainbows danced around the room. The shadows swirled as if caught in a wind and drew close to her. Dark tendrils laced around her body, caressing her skin like a lover. They rose up until they touched the pendant. The stone flashed to life and pulled them back into the facets. The dancing dark rainbows faded. The stone returned to being just a pendant.

  Brandon looked around the room. “That’s a new trick,” he commented. He lifted himself off the floor, grabbing his jeans from the night before. Not bothering with shoes or a shirt, he looked out of the window.

  “Was she really out there? Nemesis, I mean,” he asked. A note of worry colored his voice.

  “Yes, or someone acting as her puppet. The feeling I got was she didn’t like you being here with me. In fact, she didn’t like you being alive at all. What in the hell did you do to her?” Sabrina crossed her arms over her chest and rocked her weight to one foot.

  “Delilah told you I was once a gladiator. What you don’t know is that gladiators in my time worshipped and paid tribute to Pax-Nemesis. Hadrian did, too. He was one of only two rulers to put her on a coin. She wasn’t just my goddess, but everyone’s,” Brandon replied, still looking out of the window. He stood up and closed the curtains.

  “She called you by name, not my father,” Sabrina pointed out. A bubble of jealousy felt like it was forming in her chest. She envisioned it popping, turning her as green as Delilah. It was the goddess part of her that refused to be ignored.

  The thought of him worshipping at another’s altar nagged at her. The jealous part of her wanted it not to matter that this all happened before she was born or that he had been human at the time. Someone else expected tribute from her high priest. She fought back the demonic influence of her darker, earthbound magic.

  Sabrina bit her lower lip and thought. The presence she felt in Brandon’s dream followed him here to her childhood home. It invaded her space, triggering her metaphorical lioness. The big cat was enough to keep the entity at bay in the dream. There was no telling what might have happened if the lioness chose to remain asleep. Marking him as her territory drove the other power from her sacred space, but she did not know for how long.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Brandon said, breaking her concentration.

  “I don’t think you have that many pennies, honestly,” she replied. “I need to get ready for work. There’s a shop in town with my name on the door now. Mystical Charms will need some attention, if we’re still going to have that grand opening party.” She raced out of the room and into the bathroom. She felt a little better when she heard the lock click.

  If Brandon really wanted in, the flimsy, old lock would never stand a chance. However, he often took the locked door as a sign she needed her space and, to her amazement, left her alone.

  After a hot shower and giving her fangs a serious brushing, Sabrina dropped her towel and grabbed at where her robe should have been. Damn, she thought, I left it in the bedroom. Closing her eyes, she thought about the color, the texture, and the feel of her robe when she wore it. She thought about how it hung in her bedroom on the bed post and how much she wanted it in her hands. Holding her hands out, palm up, she felt the pile of fluffy fabric fill the space. Pleased with her progress, she slipped the robe on and left the bathroom.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, she hurried down to the kitchen. The smell of blood warming in the microwave made her mouth water. In a flash, she stood beside her father, waiting for a mug of liquid life.

  “Mea Dulcis, are you sure you wouldn’t rather have food? I can cook, you know. I’ve known the best chefs in Europe for centuries. I’m told they taught me well,” Hadrian said, tempting her.

  “No, thanks. I’ll take just the mug. Is there enough for Brandon, too?”

  He handed her the mug with “no coffee, no chocolate, no work” written on the side.

  She took it, raising the inviting red elixir to her nose. The delicious aroma made her fangs ache for a sip. The thick blood rolled over her tongue and eased the burning thirst building in her throat. Warmth spread through her body as liquid life revitalized her.

  “Mind if I get some of that?” Brandon asked, shuffling into the kitchen in just his jeans.

  Hadrian handed him a steel travel mug and poured more blood into another one. “Now, children, I think we need to go over tonight’s schedule. I’ve thought very carefully about everything I’ve learned. It seems Brandon and I have a few errands to run while you go to the shop and help the new staff set up,” he directed. He held up a hand to stop Sabrina from objecting. “I know what you’re going to say, Mea Dulcis, but you need to go about your night as usual. Those men you killed last night weren’t law enforcement but hired guns. The power behind them is who we are investigating tonight. I need you to look like you’re going about business as usual. Otherwise, you’ll tip off whoever is watching. They’ll be unnerved about losing four men last night, as it is.”

  Brandon nodded in agreement. “And Nemesis? What about her?”

  “Remember, she most often worked by setting events in motion and stepping back for them to unfold. She may have been asleep for the last unknown number of centuries, but her MO is bound to have stayed the same. Remorselessness and justice were, and are, her two biggest traits. She seeks to
balance the world and to take divine revenge on the unjust. Her relationship with you should have ended when you stopped being human. Why she sought you out is one of the things we need to know,” Hadrian explained, sipping his blood. “Go get dressed. We’ll drop Sabrina off at the shop first.”

  Brandon balled his fist and placed it over his heart, giving a slight bow in Hadrian’s direction. “As you command,” he muttered. He gave Sabrina a quick peck on the cheek as he left to follow orders.

  Sabrina swirled the last bit of blood in the bottom of her mug. She watched the fluorescent lights in the kitchen make patterns in the red substance. It reminded her of gazing into the crystal ball.

  “Mea Dulcis, I need you to tell me what you felt outside the house this evening. Don’t give me that look. You filled the whole house with energy. I’m surprised the place didn’t go up in flames,” Hadrian said softly.

  She thought about it carefully. “It was definitely female and powerful. In the dream, it had wings and flew, but once Brandon was awake, it felt different. There was an element of earthiness to it, like a blending of the celestial magic and earthbound magic. I just can’t pinpoint what made it different, but something seemed not quite right,” she said, making it sound more like an apology. The answer felt like it was on the tip of her tongue but refused to be said out loud.

  Hadrian smiled, but not enough to show his fangs. He gave her an understanding look and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself with the details. I’m sure it’ll come out in the end. Go get dressed. Do you have a favorite perfume you wear every day?”

  “No, why?” What an odd question, she thought.

  “No reason. You might want to wear makeup and a very red lipstick,” Hadrian suggested. He gave her a very European shrug that said everything and nothing at the same time.

  She noticed he often did it to soften a command, giving the illusion there was a choice. She sat her mug on the counter and sighed. While she knew he was up to something, she also knew he needed her to look nice.

  Sabrina trudged up the stairs with less enthusiasm than she came down them. At the top landing, she heard a guttural, choking noise coming from her bedroom. Without hesitating, she burst through the door.

  Seeing Brandon pinned to the wall with invisible fingers digging into the side of his neck made her mad. The pendant flashed, sending dark rainbows and hazy shadows in a blinding light at the unknown intruder.

  Brandon fell to the floor in a heap, gasping.

  Sabrina knew he did not need the air to live, but not breathing sometimes made a vampire’s lungs burn and hurt. She wanted to rush to his side, but her anger kept her focused on the intruder.

  The bright light cast a shadow of the intruder on the far wall, giving away their location. She raised her hand in the intruder’s direction. Her inner lioness took a metaphysical swipe at them, throwing them bodily through the window.

  Only one word managed to escape her clenched teeth.

  “Mine.”

  Chapter 6

  Hadrian came barreling through the door snarling and bearing his fangs. His focus went straight to the smashed window. Without stopping to ask questions, he bounded across the room in a single step and dove through the opening.

  Sabrina turned her attention to Brandon. She knelt beside him, checking over for other signs of injuries. Nothing else seemed damaged.

  She asked, “Can you talk yet?”

  He coughed and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he said, “That was one seriously strong woman.”

  Sabrina growled low in her chest. A woman? Another woman came into her bedroom? This went above and beyond invading sacred space. Attacking her husband violated the sanctity of her altar. The lioness within roared in anger. Pulling Brandon into her arms, she cradled him protectively and stared at the broken window.

  “Well, isn’t this a cozy scene,” a familiar female voice said, hissing out the word scene. Delilah walked into the room. “And here I thought Hadrian wanted to invite me on a playdate.” She pouted her dark-green lower lip in faux disappointment. She smoothed her hands down over her full hips, pressing out the wrinkles in her red velvet halter dress. The key-hole cutout allowed her massive, pale, seafoam-green cleavage to show. Her coarse brown hair coiled around her head in an antiquated braid.

  “How long have you been here?” Sabrina asked.

  “I arrived just in time to see Hadrian jump out of the window,” she said and gave a shiver. “Playing with demonic powers again, are we?”

  “What makes you say that?” Brandon asked. He gently pried himself loose from Sabrina’s grip and stood up.

  Sabrina got up, too. She grabbed the first shirt she could find for him and thrust it at him. The green-eyed monster in her chest threatened to surface. Having her husband shirtless in Delilah’s presence did not help keep it in check.

  “Down girl,” Delilah said dismissively to Sabrina. “I need to see what happened to him.” She held up her hands and moved them in the air around him. “Interesting. It’s a woman, and she didn’t do anything but touch you. Temporary paralysis on contact. Very Interesting.”

  Sabrina wanted to let her lioness run free, to track the woman down, and eat her.

  “I think it’s high time I taught you how to ward things for yourself,” Delilah announced, reaching out suddenly for Sabrina’s hand and dragging her out of the room.

  “But I’m not dressed, and I’m going to be late for work!” Sabrina complained.

  Nothing annoyed Eleanor more than tardiness. The years of living with strict deadlines left a mark in Sabrina’s soul. She still insisted on being ten minutes early for everything. The thought of being late for work tonight added to her already high stress levels. She felt the pendant recover from discharging and start to hum in time with her anxiety.

  “Dress yourself with magic. This will only take a few minutes. I’ll even help you clean up the house,” Delilah said, ignoring Sabrina’s concerns.

  Once they reached the front yard and stopped walking, Sabrina closed her eyes and thought about what she wanted to wear. The image of her wearing a pair of comfy, well-worn jeans and a dark-purple V-neck tee formed in her mind. A simple pair of running shoes finished the outfit. She imagined her hair pulled up high on her head in a ponytail, blue-black curls cascading down her back.

  A tingling sensation layered her skin. Her favorite robe changed, taking on the form of the outfit. Shadows from the surrounding yard swirled around her feet, creating the shoes. Her scalp felt like someone pulled her hair a little too tight, but the pressure eased when the ponytail holder formed.

  “Not fashionable, but well done,” Delilah said. She clapped her hands together once and held them over her heart. “Now, what I want you to do is to think carefully about the house. Feel it sitting on the ground. Feel the air touching the surface of the wood and the roof and the windows. Picture them in your mind. Know them as if they are a part of you. Got that?”

  Sabrina knew this house better than any building on Earth. She had helped Eleanor build it in what seemed like a different lifetime. Everything about the place held a special meaning for her in a way it never could for anyone else. Warmth, love, and safety radiated from it—until tonight. For the first time in her long life, the house did not protect her.

  “Picture a bubble surrounding it. Make sure you think about the bubble as a sphere. You want it to scoop the ground around the structure as well as the building itself. Picture the people you want coming and going as they please. See them safe and happy inside, untouchable by anyone and anything that might want to harm them,” Delilah whispered.

  Sabrina heard the soft instructions as Delilah circled her. She did not need to open her eyes to know what Delilah was doing. She saw the demoness do this to Brandon once before.

  “Good. Now layer the bubble with your power. You don’t need to name your enemies individually. Just think about repelling all those things that you would deem negative, things or creatures that would want to cause what y
ou perceive as harm. Think of that protection as your favorite color and visualize your bubble being that color,” Delilah said, still whispering. “Good. Very good. Now open your eyes and walk around the house three times counter-clockwise. As you do, think about sealing the circle like the witches do for spell work. I know you’re familiar with that procedure.”

  Indeed, Sabrina thought. Having lived most of her life thinking she was a misfit orphaned half witch, she knew well how witches cast protective circles. Her only problem came from wearing the pendant. Aunt Eleanor originally used it to stifle her real powers, like a magical handcuff.

  Sabrina traced a wide circle around the house, reciting the spell she heard Eleanor use on countless occasions. The local coven asked the fiery redhead to do the circles for sabbats and the odd esbat. The words were always the same, muttered low where only Sabrina could hear. Those same words flowed from Sabrina now in a slow, steady rhythm in time with her steps. By the time she finished the third circle, the words came to an end with only a few steps to go. When Sabrina took the last step, a shimmer rippled across the bubble.

  The shimmer reminded her of the barrier Eleanor drove through at Hilargi, Inc, regional office and sanctuary of the goddess Diana’s earthbound creatures. Of course, moments later the building exploded, forcing Eleanor to drive straight to Atlanta and one Mr. Brandon Thorpe. Sabrina hoped the similarities stopped there.

  “There! That should do the trick!” Delilah exclaimed.

  Sabrina felt guilty. The point of being tucked away in the Platt Balsam Mountains was getting away from all the seemingly endless drama. A tear welled up and trickled down her cheek.

  All I wanted was to be like Brandon, to have the same kind of life and do the things vampires do with him.

  Another tear rolled down her face when she realized how impossible her dream was. No matter how hard she tried, the fangs in her mouth represented only a part of her true self. Her other part belonged to her mother, Aradia, Goddess of Midnight, making her a demi-goddess. The blended magic contained in the pendant around her neck suddenly seemed like more of a burden than a gift.