by Joey Hill
Garron had been through hell physically, emotionally. Whether or not he accepted it, she was as responsible for protecting him as he was for protecting her. Thanks to her most recent disagreement with Fran, that dear beloved woman who was the closest thing Kaela had to a real friend, she knew those two things weren’t in conflict. Hadn’t Fran stepped over the line of her stringent InhServ training because of her concern about her Mistress going somewhere she couldn’t watch after her?
Kaela. Give him the whip. Remember, according to club rules here, I can call a halt to it if I desire, no reflection on you.
She knew enough about men and their testosterone surges to know how likely that would be. She would have rolled her eyes at him if she wasn’t in the process of holding a staring contest with Lord Richard.
“My lady?” He had a brow raised, his eyes glittering but his expression suggesting he was giving her the chance to correct the impression she’d just given, that she was refusing him.
Kaela, I mean it. There’s no risk in this for me. You’re endangering yourself needlessly, which will piss me off more than anything else you could possibly do. Give him the fucking whip.
He was telling her what to do and expecting her to obey. But stepping out of the path between Richard and Garron… a mental quiver went through her. It was the same shiver of nerves she usually cast in iron in the blink before she decided whether or not the vampire in front of her needed to be taken down.
You’re a vampire overlord. You control every situation. That’s what you do every day of your life. This is when you decide how much you trust me or if you’ve just been playing sub the past few days. Honor your Master.
The arctic coldness of those three words shot up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder. His face had gone impassive, entirely unreadable. She felt like snarling in frustration, but an icy calm stole over her, numbing everything.
“My apologies, my lord.” She channeled every façade she’d ever pasted on her face to fool a Union general or a vampire. The result was a beatific smile, laced with a good deal of unbridled lust. For the first time with respect to Garron it was a feigned reaction, because there was nothing arousing to her about this. “My servant is quite worked up, and I intend to make good use of that impressive hard on.” She handed over the whip. “If you deflate it, I’ll be annoyed. I’d appreciate your consideration of that.”
“I haven’t seen your passionate side before, my lady. Usually you’re so in control.” Richard’s expression eased. “I’ll try to resist my baser urges, but I also know you’re quite capable of returning a man to full attention with no more than a smile.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Charmer,” she said, nudging Kaela when she came to stand beside her. Kaela responded with a faint smile, but everything else in her was concentrated on Garron.
When he met Richard’s gaze, Richard gave her Master a humorless smile. “Definitely not used to playing the submissive, are you, boy? If you lower your eyes, I might have mercy.”
Garron didn’t lower his gaze.
Richard gave a nasty chuckle. “Lady Kaela, if you should decide to make your arrangement with this one…permanent, I think we’ll be in for some interesting social events.”
The Region Master pointed to a frame positioned to the left of the spanking bench. “I want you there. Seanna, come bind his arms on either side of him. Ankles, too. Stretch him out.”
As Seanna moved forward to comply, Richard went back to the panel and switched out the six-footer for two four-footer single tails. He preferred a Florentine method, Kaela recalled, and he could cut into flesh or barely brush it, flicking a fly from the air.
Close your mind if you need to do so, my lady. I’m fine. There’s nothing he can do to me that should cause you distress. It certainly won’t cause me any, unless it upsets you.
Her mind started to narrow down to a thin crack of light, but for different reasons. Things were getting far more still inside of her, everything focused on what would happen next.
The first time Richard drew blood, he would die where he stood, no matter what she had to do to accomplish it.
Garron had heard that. His gaze flicked to her, startled, but then Richard began. He hadn’t warmed up like Kaela had, but maybe he was just that familiar with whip play. Or maybe he’d intended to make his first strike exceptionally memorable.
He threw hard and fast. The two whips snaked out and sliced into Garron’s back, both direct strikes on his scars. Garron arched up against his bonds, all his muscles bunching into rock hard tension to absorb the pain, his mouth stretched back in a snarl. The crowd let out a startled gasp as the skin split, crimson gashes that would draw blood.
Fucking bastard. Stand down, my lady. Stand. Down.
Only two things saved Richard from her wrath. Her initial moment of shock that he truly had dared something that brazen in a human environment, and the instant response of the two staff members who’d been standing inside the cordoned area to ensure people didn’t lean over the velvet ropes too far. They’d shifted forward as immediately as if they’d been police trained, and perhaps Vardalos ensured that very thing, given what contingencies they might face in a BDSM club with a wide variety of guests.
Regardless, they’d cut into her path. She still might have mowed them down without impunity if one of them hadn’t spoken up sharply. And if Garron hadn’t repeated his explosive command in her head.
Tara reached out, caught her hand and tugged her back. “It’s okay, you won’t get into trouble,” she whispered. “Richard knows what he’s doing. It’s not the first time he’s played in a human club.”
She could care less about being in trouble with the club, but she managed not to jerk her hand from Tara’s grasp, instead extricating it with a stiff nod. She remained on her feet, though.
The staff member who had spoken up was Louis, the fire play Dom. His blue eyes sparked, his dark-stubbled jaw set. “Sir, blood play has to be sanctioned by a staff member, prior to execution.”
“My bad, Lou.” Garron cleared his throat. “I’m one of those who can sanction it, and I told him he could.”
Louis’s gaze slid over his fellow Dom, noting how Garron straightened stiffly. He didn’t have to have Kaela’s inside view to register the agony pin-balling through her Master. Louis’s lips twisted, but Garron held his gaze in a lock, giving him a slight head shake. The Dom sighed, nodded grudgingly. “My apologies, sir,” he said to Richard, though there was no apology in his hard tone. “But keep in mind we monitor this kind of play closely. Regardless of Master Garron’s sanction, we will stop the session if it becomes excessive.”
Tara bit back a sigh. “Human clubs,” she muttered to Kaela.
Thank God for them. Kaela shifted her attention to Richard. He’d paused during the interruption, his expression neutral, almost bored. He acknowledged the warning and set his stance again.
I won’t stand here and allow him to cut you up, Garron.
He was just proving a point, my lady. Watch.
Kaela remained tense, standing, but as Richard resumed, she saw Garron was correct. Richard used the blood running down Garron’s back as his pallet. As he flicked the two popper ends along Garron’s back, he started to spread those drops in a brush-like pattern, around Garron’s original tattoo and then lower, an artistic display that impressed the crowd and had them leaning out against the velvet ropes for a better look.
In other circumstances, the artistry might have impressed her as well, but Kaela knew that flicking motion came with a repetitive sting, a pain that mounted as the whipping continued. The way Garron started jerking against the manacles was expected, though she hated it. But she also noticed something else. With his legs bound shoulder length apart, it made his genitals far more vulnerable. Yet though Richard occasionally licked those poppers against his testicles, Garron remained as hard and aroused as if Richard wasn’t threatening his genitals at all.
She had to know where his headspace was, so she broke t
he rules and delved into his mind. Immediately she was surrounded by an array of erotic images, none of which included Richard or registered the pain of the flogger. Garron was imagining her straddling him as he made her ride him hard in their bed. Naked, her body oiled and slick as she rose and fell upon him. She was so aroused she was out of control, bending to bite him like a wild animal. Her ankles were chained to the bed, her wrists manacled behind her back. She was his prisoner…
Some pain finally penetrated, the grimace on his face becoming a snarl as Richard flicked the lash with extra enthusiasm over Garron’s torso, his thighs, snapped at his balls with too much zeal. Kaela almost moved forward again, Louis tensing to her left to do the same, but in that brief second, Richard stopped. He surveyed his handiwork, stepping over to the table to pick up his wine glass, take a sip. As he circled to the front to consider Garron, her Master’s gaze locked with the Region Master’s once more.
Tara slid her hand into the crook of Kaela’s elbow, squeezing. “Look at that hard cock, the way he’s looking at Richard. You should keep him, my lady. After all these years, you know we have a sense for the humans that are meant to be a part of our world. Every time he looks at you, it’s as obvious as a thunderstorm.”
She raised her voice. “I think this one is a draw, my lord. I don’t think it matters whether he’s being whipped by a Master or Mistress. He only belongs to one person here, and I think we know who it is.”
“Yeah. Himself.” Richard took another sip of wine. “A true Dom.”
He tossed the whips to Louis. “I assume you have to have those cleaned,” he said dismissively, and then nodded toward Liam and Seanna. “Let him loose.”
Kaela took no small satisfaction at the look Louis aimed at Richard, an expression the vampire missed only because he turned away from him. Though she’d enjoyed watching the fire play, she’d kept her distance. Most vampires didn’t like close proximity to flame, and Louis looked like he’d happily find a couple blow torches to teach Richard some manners.
Then Richard’s focus was on Kaela, drawing her attention. “He’s a stubborn one, my lady. All cock and attitude. Tara tends to be a bit more romantic about these things. The weakness of women.”
“Chauvinist,” Tara said without malice. A faint smile crossed Richard’s face, but Kaela wasn’t fooled. His eyes stayed cool.
“Stubbornness in a servant can be a challenge at best, a curse at worst. There’s a high percentage of servants who have to be killed by their vampire within the first five years of their lives because they don’t work out.”
“Lord Brian has that serum that separates a vampire and servant now,” Tara reminded him, speaking low enough only the three of them and the servants could follow the conversation. “And the memory serum that erases the servant’s memory of our world.”
“Which has only partially effective results, if the data coming back is any indication. Most of the Council still thinks execution is the safest course of action.” Richard shook his head. “I wasn’t making light of him, Lady Kaela. That one is a true Master. He won’t be able to bend enough to be part of our world.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kaela said. Her voice was hollow in her head, even as it came out the way she intended. Casual, indifferent. “I’m enjoying him only on the island.”
“Well, if you’re leaving tonight, maybe we’ll enjoy him for the rest of the week,” Tara said with a wink.
She needed to leave. She couldn’t bear to be here any longer. “You’ll have to take that up with Garron, my lady. My understanding is he’s engaged with other clients throughout the rest of the week.”
She squared off with both vampires, gave them a courteous bow. “My apologies, but this is where we part ways. It’s well past midnight and I need to prepare for my early evening departure. It’s been a pleasure seeing you.”
She said a few more things along those lines. Though she knew she seemed abrupt, her words a little forced, it didn’t really matter, did it? If she wasn’t taking him with her, he was in no danger from her erratic behavior. And she wasn’t lying. She had something vital to do before dawn came, something that was boiling up in her breast and would no longer be denied.
Richard had said the obvious, yet the shock of hearing him say it aloud told her she’d almost let herself believe otherwise. Which brought back the anger that this situation had occurred at all, that what had started out as a fantasy had had to be ruined by her reality.
As Kaela moved away, she saw Tara lean forward, heard her teasing comment to Richard. “That was as close to a pissing match as I’ve seen between you and a human, my lord.”
It was nothing less than the truth. Though Richard had been the one with the whips and the perceived power, it was clear Garron had kept the upper hand. In short, vampire or not, he’d proven who the top Dom was.
And as Richard had implied, in the vampire world, humans died for infractions far less than that.
Chapter Eleven
Seanna and Liam were in the process of unchaining Garron. Louis had also stepped forward to ensure Garron was truly fine—and probably to mutter “what the hell were you thinking?”—so she had a few vital seconds to establish a head start. Kaela closed her mind to any question or demand Garron might toss out to reel her back. Focusing so hard on that, she almost ran into Bridget, the velvet-corseted woman who’d been at the private staff entrance into Club Sin.
“Would you please make sure Master Garron gets the care he needs?” Kaela fished out a generous tip, transferred it into the woman’s hand. “He has cuts that may need treatment. A massage would be good if he’ll agree to it.”
Despite her obvious curiosity at Kaela’s abrupt departure, the woman’s eyes lighted at the possibility of getting her hands on all those lovely muscle groups. Kaela contained the urge to snatch her money back, not that she thought cash was the woman’s biggest incentive. “This will cover the cost of a professional masseuse. And please return this to him. He…uh, he took it off his wrist so it wouldn’t be damaged during the scene and I was holding it for him.”
She unclasped the choker from her arm and extended it to Bridget. The way her hand shook as she did it elicited a look of concern from the woman, but as Bridget’s lips parted, Kaela hastily overrode anything she was about to say. “I received a message that Theodosius Vardalos needs to meet with me,” she said brusquely. “He said one of his staff members could tell me where to find him at this time of night.”
Bridget’s fingers closed over the silver links. It took an enormous act of will for Kaela to let go of the choker, draw her hand back, but she managed it. “Can you tell me where I’m supposed to go?”
A place like Eden operated 24/7, so Kaela had assumed its Master might observe odd hours to keep it running. It didn’t seem to surprise Bridget at all that Vardalos was up at this time of night, but her brow arched.
“A meeting? As in face to face?”
Kaela wasn’t in the mood. “Is there any other kind of meeting?”
Bridget gave her a searching look, but pulled out her phone, dialed someone she said was Vardalos’s admin. Since she’d lied about the meeting, Kaela wasn’t surprised when Bridget’s brows rose at whatever the admin said, but her contingency planning was cut short when the staff submissive broke the connection and nodded. “Yes, Lady Kaela. He’s expecting you.”
So he was willing to meet with her. His mistake.
The woman instructed her on the Master of Eden’s whereabouts and Kaela left her, moving swiftly toward the ground level. By the time she was halfway across the BDSM outdoor area, she was moving at full speed, not caring if someone was confused by something faster than the speed of a human but looking a lot like one crossing their paths. She knew such things were quickly dismissed. No one wanted to believe in fantasies. Not really. Reality was what one knew.
She could kill a vampire where he stood or reduce a submissive to quivering fear. Those things were real, but none of it was true.
My lady,
do not do this. Goddamn it.
She realized she hadn’t shut her mind to him as securely as she’d thought. She was still so hungry for his voice, to have any part of him inside her. In a matter of hours, she’d never see or hear from him again. She forced herself to shut her mind to his protests. Even now, his wrath could make her knees weak. That was her weakness to manage, as it always had been.
We’re done, Garron. Fantasy over. I’m sorry. None of this is your fault.
Richard had accepted the situation tonight, but if Garron was at a vampire dinner? Vampires held grudges, and Richard would make it his mission to bring Garron to his knees in whatever way that indulged his whims.
Bridget had said Vardalos had a night time office in one of the castle towers. A staff member was waiting to give her access through either a small elevator or a winding staircase. She chose the staircase.
The lack of human scent along the endlessly spiraling steps said it was rare anyone came this way. That suited her purpose just fine. The courteous, slim young man who’d let her through might have thought twice about letting her come up here if he’d known she intended violence once she reached her destination.
As she reached the top, she stepped into an anteroom between the elevator and Vardalos’s office. The elevator had polished wooden doors, limned with brass. The heavy oak panel doors across from it were cracked open. Disappointing, because she really wanted to wrench them off their hinges. Pushing that aside, she stepped through them.
The room reminded her of a wizard’s study. The huge desk was scattered with opened old books, scrolls on the floor. Two walls were all shelves of more books, bisected by a window seat that had three tall windows. The center one, a colorful stained glass, was fully revealed by the drawn curtain. The only light in the room came from it, some type of spotlight outside or a trick of the moon.
