THE ASS COLLECTOR
Adrian.
Uh, oh. I press the green button.
“Hello?”
Silence on the other end, then—“Darling,” speaks a deep voice.
“How lovely of you to call. I was beginning to wonder if the humans were right—dragons don’t exist.” The quip refers to the fact we hadn’t spoken since our date days ago.
“Amusing,” he says drolly. “Why are you in Gavin VanWrath’s home?” Damn, he’d gotten right to it.
“Yes, I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking.”
“Why are you at his home?” he asks again. I bristle a little at his demanding tone.
“Because I can.” And just to keep him pissy, I don’t yet explain Gavin is not even here. “Why haven’t you called me—?”
“I’ve been busy. Is tanning by the pool a recurring thing for you and the vampire?” Voice growing scarier.
“Spying is yours?” I counter.
Adrian snorts, then sighs. “Yes, in fact. Funny, I wonder who I got that from?” unashamedly, he admits and continues on with blunt words. “I’d like nothing more than to steal you away again.”
“That’s illegal.”
“Sounds fun to me,” he growls. “Come outside, pass those pesky wards, let’s play like we did in the backseat of my car.” Jeez, he sounds... hungry. Isn’t that what dragons do anyway? Play with their food?
Curses, I was a tad turned on. Lie. I’m extremely turned on. Images of us playing had gotten hot and heavy with his fingers buried deep inside me.
“What are you doing?” I manage to voice, without moaning.
“Suckling the bones of my prey,” he says in a low... If my naked booty wasn’t in hot water right now, I’d shiver, shudder, and wanna crawl out of my skin. I can’t take him literally, though how successful his family runs the island and rakes in serious cheddar—I assume his prey is the many duties he conquers.
“Sounds like another lovely day at the office.” What he specifically does, is beyond my mental realm. I readjust my twisted, sitting position, sloshing water.
“Are you by the pool, still?” he wonders, hearing the sounds. “With...?”
“Gods, no. Gavin isn’t here nor was he when you tried to bust your head open against the invisible shield.” Psycho lizard. “He’s off traveling and I’m house sitting till he returns.” A job that usually requires watering the person’s plants—which I did! Boo-ah!
“Then where are you? I hear water.”
“In a bathtub. Well, Jacuzzi to be more precise.”
No reply—no, wait. Growling erupts on the line.
“Show me.”
“Pardon?” I choke.
“Send me proof you’re in a tub... show me how wet you are.”
I blanched at the phone in my hand. Was he for real?
“Nuh, huh. Those days of sending you pics are over.”
“Mmm, pity. I keep staring at my fingers reimagining them slick with your juices after I’d made you come. Soaked, darling. Show me how wet you are now.”
I don’t think he means bath water anymore.
“T-t-tell me how your day is going instead.” Diversion, need diversion!
“Kokoa,” he growled. Boy, he does not like being disobeyed.
“Pleeeeease?”
“Gods.” He expels a long breath. “If I talk about my day, will you then send me a picture?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He then launches into a political jargon-filled rundown on today’s events, meetings this, appearances that, shit flying right over my head. As for flying, he included a quick lunch break that led him to his earlier spying. I hold my breath on asking how he’d found out about it. The Galzras know and see everything.
“Jefferies the butler was close to calling a coven leader on you.”
“Wait. The butler’s name is Jefferies? Was his mother’s name Cliche?”
I ignore that and urge him on to continue. Simply talking stirs tingles. So rich, in deep sexiness, I was falling hard. My stomach flipped, continuously, then jumped when my left hand disappeared under the water and touched my throbbing nub. The last time it had gotten action was when he was sucking on it.
Gods, this is wrong.
Oh, ya think? The prospect of masturbating while a sexy dragon yammers on about government shit, not your usual cup of tea?
Not at this moment. Nor do I want to spasm and drop my phone in the water.
“Darling, I concluded my end of the deal. Now it is your turn.”
Always Mr. Business.
“Okay, yeah... gimme a sec.”
Call still on, I tapped the camera and snapped a picture of my wet elbow and hit send. He never said what wet part of me to show proof of.
Right after, I hung up without another word and powered down the phone. Fucked up? Oh, definitely. But this game we seem to always find ourselves in—he needs to know I’m never a pawn.
I’m a queen.
And this queen is gonna get herself off then go eat a sandwich.
***
Within the next couple of hours, I’d dressed in sweats and a t-shirt and lounged in the kitchen while gorging on a stacked, gourmet sandwich with Belinda the half nymph library keeper, made by the fabulous chef Emmett and listening to his startup on cooking.
“Making casseroles for Marilyn Monroe had to be one of my most fondest memories.” He swoons. “I catered to her before the VanWraths.” The late actress’s alluring energy came from being part siren.
I couldn’t control the chef from not making me another sandwich. He’s his own person. Duh. I’m not strong enough to turn down a roast beef on bagel sandwich with whipped goat cheese, herbs, zucchini and sweet potato chips and radish.
...okay, I had three.
“Good? Hm?” asks Belinda. She was chomping away too, although instead of goat cheese, hers was slathered with blood jam.
I would cringe, but Emmett can make anything look delicious.
I held up a finger, continuing to chew. Swallowed. But when I don’t answer and just take in more bites she laughs outright. We chat about her life in the service of the VanWraths, and staff gossip.
My fav.
“Okay, so let me get this straight—Nadine, the second head in maid service is banging the third in control guy’s cousin who’s also the valet driver brother of Terrell which they look just alike, and she deep down wishes the brother slash doppelganger slash valet driver is really Terrell?”
“Yep.” Belinda nods and smirks. “Crazy, right?”
“It is... tell me more!”
Another hour gone, my brain is full of more outrageous mansion staff secrets, and belly stuffed with another sandwich. I sang my praises to Emmett as I shuffle back upstairs. My phone lay in the ocean of bed covers where I’d left it upon leaving.
Its little blue light blinking.
1 NEW VOICE MESSAGE.
From you know who.
I click play and I’m met with Adrian’s husky chuckle.
“Sneaky, Kokoa. I’ll settle for this elbow picture. But when you try to make a man suffer with something as simple as a damn elbow, make sure your breast isn’t in the shot. That just deducts a point from you and makes it all the more satisfying for me. Talk to you soon.”
“WHAT!?” I wrench the phone away and tap on the picture message I’d sent.
Boom, there it is. My flippin’ side tit, and part of my nipple was semi-blurred in the background, but still there and clearly missed beforehand. Great. I slapped my forehead.
So much for being a damn queen.
Chapter Eight
The best way to release pent up energy is to run.
Especially for a wolf.
Heavy paws imprinting the soil. Ragged panting. Oh yeah, the she-wolf wanted out. I wait a bit for the sandwiches to digest, indulging in a long nap, then bound outside in the backyard towards the woods. I shifted smoothly into the night. Letting my born magic erupt fur over my body. A tail to sprout.
A muzzle that huffed. On all fours, I took off, accelerating my pace and soon the VanWrath mansion was no longer in sight.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Huff.
Puff.
I howl, long and loud, becoming one with the night as my paws briefly touch the forest floor. I feel like I was flying.
Gods, I needed this. Guy complication doesn’t exist in my wolfy brain.
I glide over jutting roots. Fallen branches. My lungs suck in the cool breeze, rich of rain that’s soon to come. Small creatures scurried for cover, a predator’s presence has entered their territory.
It’s on them to think a white wolf with pink paw pads and a pink nose is at all menacing. My coloring is that way—due to my newfound ability—and none of my family has it. Except for one, though she’s since passed during the dawn of supernatural creation. I inherit the very first Lovell ancestor, Kolonda’s ability to absorb the entirety of the moon’s magic, more than any werewolf on the planet and use it to make myself invisible should I want to. I’ve been doing so off and on and oh man, when I told all my friends about it they freaked, a good freak, mind you. I told them of the ancient magic that courses through me. Hosting abilities only I possess.
And the answer behind my different fur, padding and nose.
There was never ever anything to worry about.
Too long I felt a bit ashamed and insecure.
Gone are those feelings.
Nothing can bring them up again—not even by my brothers. Though no one in my family blatantly made fun of me, still a couple of my brothers thought the arrival of our great grandfather was due to an apocalyptic importance but once they found out I how fucking awesome I truly am, thanks to Ancestor Kolonda—their pie holes shut real quick.
Inwardly I sigh. I’d like to have seen the look on Jonathan’s face when I told him over the phone. He expressed his happiness but it’s not the same hearing joy when I’d like to have been swept into a warm, joyful hug of a muscular yet cuddly lion.
The bright orb in the sky fuels me now, pushing my limbs to kick off the ground harder. To be faster. My sharp, acute eyes observe the labyrinth of foliage and random, cracked tombstones, yards out.
It’s a good thing my overall being is enhanced or I’d already have been flat on my belly, having tripped on the uneven ground for the hundredth time.
Darkness settled in every crevice. The deeper I go, tall trees of thick leaf clusters and branches block the moonlight.
I’m aware how far I’ve run from the house. The time since? Not so much. I think an hour maybe has passed. Before I shifted, the clock read 11:00. I had stripped behind a big tree at the edge of the backyard and left my clothes there to change back into when I return.
Which I should’ve done already.
I U-turn and trot in the direction I came. I’m in no real hurry, I think, hopping over the fallen stone body of an angel. I don’t remember seeing that before. I shake my furry head and upper body. Already, I look forward to sleeping in Gavin’s continent sized bed.
Isn’t that a damn shame? I snort. The sound is almost like a sneeze doing it in wolf form.
Stopping at a large boulder, I scratch my ear. Something tickled it and I shake off the weird feeling again when it touched my hind leg.
The hell?
I quickly swivel, growling at whatever bug is annoying me—because that’s what it comes down to these days. Snarling at innocent insects since I can’t fucking stand pesky little—wait.
No taller than a measly crayon, were different-colored sprites. Wings fluttering as fast as hummingbirds, they flitted around me, brushing against my fur, whispering past my ears.
One perched on my muzzle, causing my eyes to cross. It’s an all turquoise girl with large pink eyes.
She wags her microscopic finger, and frowns. ”No stay here,” the sprite says in a squeaky voice. “’Twas not safe for such wolf.”
Ummm...
She plucks a chuck of my fur, drawing blood.
Oh, hell no! I shake her off, sending her flying. Little gremlin, I grumble, wincing at the slight pain and trot away from the tiny monsters. Her and her stupid weird warning can go to—
A twig snaps. I halt. Loud, it broke so close behind. I don’t turn—my ears perk, nose twitches gauging signs of a possible threat. Guards rising. Nothing comes swooping in to attack or anything like that since there aren’t any sudden movements but I don’t ease.
Because my hearing picks up ragged breathing coming from multiple entities.
Fangs bared, I do a quick 180.
Then all my blood turns cold.
An army of man-sized bats with elongated, grotesque marred faces, occupy the nearest trees, as well as the bases. I don’t even come to eye level with any of them.
Not that I would want to. Their eyes glow neon red. Pupil-less.
One beast peels back its top black lip—yellow, crooked and sharp teeth, too revolting to look at.
My tail droops.
Oh, fuck.
Zipping by, the hair plunking sprite giggles near my ear. “Silly wolf. You should have run.”
Obviously. 12:07 had struck. I should have heeded Gavin’s warning too. But to my defense—being shifted, I am without pockets for a phone to eventually check the time.
Wishing I could bitch more, I toss it and do what I’ve been doing since I arrived to the VanWrath mansion: Run like hell.
Heart pounding, my hind legs surge full speed—I take off straight towards a familiar path, smelling of me and a clutter of tombstones, knowing they were close to the backyard. Just keep going, I’ll be able to just make it out. Hopefully, I don’t tuck and roll head over ass tumbling.
As I run, I foolishly think, I’m insignificant enough to not be chased after—screeches and wing flaps beating above prove me wrong. I quickly glance up—yup, a storm of laser beam red eyes target me like a sniper.
Come on, options.
Shit, what do I do?
They descend lower. I don’t think I can make it pass the wards.
I can possibly fight them off... not really. These freaks weren’t my easy to beat up brothers.
I could shift to two legs and scream for help but without readied canine claws or strong jaws, I’m even more defenseless.
Damn. Poofing out of here would be—I dive under a fallen tree, not breaking my stride—would be fucking perfect.
Zooming past, feeling more energized due to the moonlight that eventually became visible through the trees above—I recognize a couple split in half gravestones. Ah, yes, I’m getting closer. Closer to safety, behind the wards.
Thoughts of salvation shatter when hot breath hisses dangerously close to the back of my skull. I swerve the foul air and the nasty snapping teeth. The diverting falters me, giving enough momentum to the few Hell bats that were closest—flying forward and dropping long taloned feet to the ground, sending tremors, they stand in full tall height—forming a wall that blocks the faint lights twinkling from the mansion.
I skid to a halt.
HolyFuckingMangoBallsOnWheels, I’m screwed.
If I survive to tell this tale—for one, I’ll be ultimate badass since pissing thyself never occurred and two, I’ll let other reckless lovers know any shenanigans they’ve managed to crawl out of Scott free, won’t prepare them for winging their way out of a hungry clan of oversized bats.
They circle me, licking their chops.
Really, were these things even born in nature?
Swiveling in all directions, as they move in, I bite the air to keep them back. Fangs extended, back arched, my growls are loud and thunderous. Some bats flinch, others smile ugly.
Okay, tough bitch act isn’t working. Courage was slowly diminishing, I hate that I whined a little, cowering almost, my paws shivering in a small puddle—no, it’s not my pee, it’s old rain water.
How can I somehow outsmart them? Chomp one leg in hopes it’ll scare them all off? Show I mean wolfy business. Cause
a distraction? Uselessly, I kicked a rock.
I think back to wanting to poof into thin air—
Oh.
You can turn invisible, nitwit!
But I’d need a moment to tap into it. Be calm, but that’s not fucking possible when fear and panic is doing the tango in my system.
For defense. For protection. Push out the magic like a constipated witch.
Do it now!
I don’t waste a second longer, using every millisecond I’m granted as the bats get pissy crowding into each other to get to me—I close my eyes, throw back my head and howl straight to the moon. White light washes over me, still hazing my vision once I look around. My limbs shudder in a rushing jolt of tingling energy. The bats stumble back, beady red eyes darted to the ground where I sit, to the sky, to each side, behind them. They frown, searching for something.
A gander at the small puddle of water indicates nothing.
Because my reflection isn’t there.
I’ve done it!
Fuck yeah! I rock!
Foot on the gas, I bolt through the confused beasts—knocking a few to the dirt, and run like a cheetah.
Lata suckas!
Hahahaaaaa, maniacal laughs bounce in my noggin. Bounding faster, the mansion is in full view. Gods, I’d face Tim on his worst day rather than those many bats. That was waaaay too close.
I dart behind the wide tree where my clothes were stashed. I shift then tug on the shirt and shorts then sprint barefoot across the long lawn, making it peacefully to the glass patio doors.
There, Jefferies and Terrell stand, grinning. The butler holds out his hand and Terrell slaps a small stack of bills in his palm.
Glaring daggers at them, I shout, “QUIT BETTING ON MY IMPENDING DOOM!”
“But, Miss, I always root for you.” Jefferies guides me inside. “You’re as tough as Gavin mentioned.”
“Oh...thank you. He said that?”
“Yes,” Terrell answers, winking. “The master is sweet on you.”
I smile.
“Who’s up for some tea and tarts?” Jefferies asks.
“Me!” Terrell and I both raise our hands as if we’re kindergartners.
Popcorn, Vampires and Forbidden Shenanigans (Grimstone Island) Page 5
