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Doms of Dark Haven

Page 10

by Cartwright, Sierra


  “The music. I don't go to clubs. It's too loud. The crowds make me uncomfortable.”

  “What else?” He had a feeling he already knew, but she had to pinpoint the problem herself. Mistress Alexandra sauntered by. She was dressed in formal men's clothing. Her sub followed, wearing nothing but a collar and leash.

  Eva's fear surged and then receded as the women passed. Harte reached out and ran a soothing hand down her spine.

  “Is it the collar and leash?”

  She looked at him. Her eyes were huge. There were collared subs all over the room, many on leashes.

  “To many, the collar is almost like a wedding ring or some other symbol of commitment. It's a great honor for a sub to accept a dom's collar.”

  She swallowed hard.

  “However, to us, it's innately abhorrent. I also have to suppress my discomfort with the practice.”

  “Why? Because it's demeaning?”

  He reached out and wrapped his hand around the back of Eva's slender neck. With a growl, she twisted away.

  “It's a dominance zone. If you watch natural wolves—even some dogs—you will see that they lay their heads over the necks and shoulders of others to show dominance. It's very threatening. Even the most submissive among us cannot cope with a collar.”

  “Oh.” She frowned as she examined the room, relaxing perceptibly. “How do you adapt to that? When you're here, that is?”

  Harte waved at a group across the room. “I'll show you what we do.”

  Eva was stunned at how quickly he'd pinpointed her anxiety and how much sense his explanation made. She looked around, noting the collars and wrist cuffs on some of the subs. Dominants wore more clothing and sometimes had floggers hanging from their wrists or belts. One domme in a red velvet hunting jacket sauntered by with a riding quirt in hand.

  She sensed movement in the crowd and realized that whoever Harte had signaled was now approaching. It was a man and woman, both attractive and fully dressed in elaborate costumes. A leash dangled from the woman's hand. At the end of it was a beautiful young man wearing breeches and knee-high riding boots. The leash was attached to his wrist rather than to his neck. Her skin prickled when she realized that these must be members of Harte's pack. Eva fought the impulse to growl threateningly.

  The woman claimed her attention first. She was of moderate height; her dark hair was fashionably highlighted and twisted in a chignon. Her Hispanic origins showed in her caramel-colored skin and exotic, dark eyes. She was regally dressed in deep maroon velvet, with rich, creamy lace ruffles at the throat and sleeves. The man she was holding hands with was blond and tanned. He looked like a surfer, with sparkling blue eyes and a well-toned body. From the cautious expressions they wore, they were already aware of her wolf.

  Their sub was just as beautiful up close as he had been from a distance. Golden brown hair spilled over his shoulders like waves of honey. His arms were muscular; his chest and belly were well developed. Automatically she knew that this prime bit of male was their omega, the bottom-ranked member of the pack. His gaze slid away from hers, and his smile was sweetly genuine. Immediately she liked him.

  “I won't make you kneel before them, but remember to show respect.” Harte didn't look at her as he spoke. Eva gritted her teeth and looked down at her hands. The woman spoke first.

  “You picked up a stray.” She didn't sound unfriendly, but there was an edge to her voice. Eva glanced up, and their eyes locked. The other woman looked away first. Eva stifled a surge of satisfaction.

  “Eva, this is Patrice. She and Brian here are mates. Kevin is our omega. He's agreed to sub for them tonight.” She glanced at the young man, and he flushed; his gaze met hers tentatively. That seemed odd for an omega wolf. She gave him a smile, and he ducked his head away. His smile was genuine, but his submission was as feigned as hers. He was humoring his temporary doms. He might be a sub, but his submission had to be earned.

  When she looked up at the other man, he held her gaze. Eva looked away first. He wasn't quite up to Harte's level of dominance, but he was trying.

  “I was just explaining to Eva why the collars make her uncomfortable. I wanted her to see how we treat our submissives here at the club.”

  Kevin held out his arm so that she could see the broad leather wristband that was attached to the leash. Eva leaned closer to examine it and pulled up short when she felt rather than heard a low growl. She glanced up at Harte to see what she'd done wrong.

  “Ask first, Eva.”

  She flushed and nodded. “Sir, may I examine his leash?” Instinctively she knew to ask Harte rather than Patrice.

  He gave a curt nod. Eva bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something smart-ass.

  I can do this.

  Once again she looked at the wrist cuff, lifting his arm this time. It wasn't nearly as offensive as the collar.

  Okay. If he wants me to, I can deal. Tonight anyway.

  “I can also wear a chain around my waist. That doesn't bother me too much. I won't wear a harness, though.” Kevin gave a mock shudder and crossed his hands in front of his body. A slight tug on his leash put him back into position behind Patrice.

  “Brian is my second in command.”

  She nodded in the blond man's direction. Something about the beta and his mate rubbed her the wrong way. They were saying and doing the right things, but something was slightly off with them.

  The music in the club changed as a domme took the stage. She was dressed as a schoolmarm. A young man wearing only breeches waited in a posture of patient submission—he was on his knees, his head bowed. Evidently he was her student and was about to be caned. Eva grinned. That made her remember school, which led to thoughts of her mother and the day two men in black suits had forced her into a van. Everyone on the street had seen it happen, but no one had stepped up to help. Her smile faded.

  A crowd of newcomers surged into the room, and Harte jerked his head, leading the small group back to the interrogation room. Once he had closed the door, Eva welcomed the comparative silence. He leaned against the table, and Brian pulled a chair over for Patrice, then took one for himself. No one offered Eva a chair, though her feet were beginning to grow sore.

  Kevin sat on the floor at the far end of his leash and leaned against the wall. For the moment the rules of the club were being set aside. Eva sighed and slid to the floor next to Kevin. The industrial carpeting was rough on her bottom.

  “Eva here didn't come to Dark Haven tonight to play. She was being followed. I'm pretty sure by Abraxas.”

  As one, they all looked at her.

  “Dark suits? Bad haircuts?”

  She nodded at Brian, noting his expertly cut hair. He probably spent more on his hair and tan than she did on her clothing in a year.

  “Damn it, Harte. We've stayed under their radar till now.” Patrice shot a glare in her direction. Eva bit her lip and kept her mouth shut. “Now we'll have to contact the rest of the pack and make sure everyone goes on alert.” She had a phone out and was rapidly texting on the tiny keyboard.

  “She couldn't have known that we were here, Patrice,” Kevin said mildly. That didn't seem to soothe her or her mate. Both glowered at Eva.

  “I'm going to take her in hand tonight, teach her a little about our world.”

  Yeah, Professor Harte Sommers probably had some lovely things on his syllabus for her tonight. Eva glared at the opposite wall. She felt a subtle wave of power and glanced up at Harte, who was gazing at her. His expression gave nothing away, but she knew he was reacting to her disrespect.

  “I don't want you guys leaving. I think they've got a tracker after her. If that's the case, it'll be fixated on her. Don't do anything to draw their attention when they show up. Just get their scents, memorize what they look like, and take note of when they leave. When they go, we go too.”

  “Hunting?” Patrice sat a little straighter. Brian had a chilling smile on his face. Kevin studied his linked fingers.

  “I'm calli
ng Chase Montenegro. It's about a two, maybe a three-hour drive from Truckee. With his people, we'll have the manpower to deal with the hunters.”

  “Why call in those freaks?” Brian looked angry. “We can handle it! Our people can be in from Calistoga before Chase can come down from Truckee!”

  Harte narrowed his eyes and glared at the other man. Brian wilted visibly.

  “Do you question my judgment, Brian?” His voice was soft and threatening. Once again Eva felt that wave of power wash over her skin. This time it was stifling and ominous. She swallowed hard. She'd tasted his amusement and maybe his lust; she didn't ever want that anger directed at her.

  Eva thought they might fight, but after a long, tense moment, the blond man backed down. He did so a bit grudgingly. Eva was not impressed. Surely Harte had better candidates for his beta?

  “Why should we help her?”

  Harte folded his arms and looked at Patrice. He didn't bother to answer. Like her mate had, she backed down, gaze gliding away. Eva could smell the woman's anger. She shifted to her knees, ready to leave and face the hunters on her own. If this was pack life, she didn't need it.

  “It helps us to help her, Patrice.” Kevin looked up at the alpha, seeking permission to continue. Harte nodded at the omega. “She might be their primary target, but they'll eventually find us, unless we deal with them quickly.”

  “Shut up, Kevin. You agree with every fucking thing he says!” Patrice yanked sharply at the leash that she still held. Kevin looped his hand and clasped the leather leash, tugging back so that he had slack.

  “Yes. He's my alpha.”

  This was the first time Eva had ever seen pack dynamics at work. It wasn't that different from other situations she'd been in. Patrice, Brian, and Kevin were like angry siblings, challenging their parent and each other.

  Eva cleared her throat. “What's a tracker?”

  Patrice snorted contemptuously. “They're the scum of the earth. That's what.”

  Eva ignored the other woman and looked at Harte.

  “Trackers are a product of the labs, Eva. They're usually human mixed with a shifter of some sort, often coyote or wolf. Sometimes they even splice canine genes into the mix, mostly for the sake of developing a tracker that fixates on a scent.”

  “Are they shifters like us?”

  “Nothing like us.” Brian's voice was low and feral, filled with hate. She looked from the beta to Kevin. His skin was flushed. Something about this conversation was bothering the young omega. Suddenly her skin prickled, and she shivered. She looked up at Harte and spoke.

  “They're here. Inside the club.”

  Chapter Three

  “Damn. I meant to have you downstairs before this.” Harte rose and helped Eva to her feet. His hand lingered on hers, and the expression on his face was intense. “I don't want her alone. You three stay close to Eva while I call Chase. Take her downstairs. Try to get her into one of the theme rooms till I come down. Kevin, since you two are both bare skinned, before you leave this room, make sure you cover her scent.”

  Brian stifled a smirk, and Patrice growled in anger. Kevin scooted closer to Eva and threw his arm over her bare shoulders. She went rigid—partly in embarrassment, partly in fear. He patted her arm, and she relaxed as the warm musk of his fragrance mingled with her own. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Hopefully he wouldn't pee on her.

  “How did you know they were here, Eva? Did you scent them?” Harte studied her carefully. His nostrils flared, and he glared at Kevin. The omega was following his orders, but the alpha wasn't reacting well to Eva's proximity to him.

  Eva grinned and snuggled closer to Kevin.

  She shrugged. “Don't know. I felt them outside when I was leaving work. This was the same.”

  Harte crossed to the door and opened it slightly so he could peer out. “It's damn crowded.” He waited for a moment.

  “Bingo. Two black suits are headed to the bar. Since they saw you in that cloak, they aren't going to be looking for you nearly naked.” He smiled smugly. Eva growled, and Kevin laughed.

  “Okay, get her down the stairs. I'll be there in a minute.”

  Within a second, Eva was surrounded by three warm bodies; Kevin kept an arm around her waist, Brian led, and Patrice followed. She was painfully aware that they looked like a pair of dominants with their subs in hand. They moved to the right and started toward the stairs.

  “You've never been to a dungeon before?” Kevin felt good next to her. Warm and comforting. When she shook her head, he continued, “Okay, don't be freaked. It'll be quieter down there, but the scents will be stronger. Your wolf will react. Just stay calm.”

  She swallowed hard, nodding. As they approached the bottom of the stairs, she heard the steady, rhythmic sounds of leather on flesh. The occasional moan or squeal jolted her. She took a deep breath and then wished she hadn't. The air was redolent with sex and adrenaline. Next to her, Kevin also took a deep breath. He shivered, and she was fairly certain that it was delight that moved him. The front of his breeches tented outward.

  The dungeon had a hushed atmosphere, and nearly everywhere she looked, Eva saw bodies. Bodies on wooden frames, bodies on swinging contraptions. To her left, a naked man was strapped to an X-shaped cross. Another man had a flogger in either hand and moved so quickly that the floggers seemed blurred. The sub's back was red and welted, but he seemed oblivious. In fact, he seemed to be in a state of bliss.

  “Sub space,” Kevin whispered. “He's moved past the pain into an altered state.” She nodded and wondered if it was like a runner's high.

  “Wait here. I'll see if there's an empty station.” Brian didn't speak above a whisper. Judging by the intensity on the faces of those playing nearby, it would be bad to break their focus.

  Kevin moved her against a wall, and automatically she turned around, then realized that they stood with their backs to a window. To her mortification, a couple writhed on a bed just on the other side of the glass. She turned back quickly, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

  “What's wrong?” Kevin turned and saw the couple who was having sex mere inches from where they stood. He chuckled and turned Eva to watch. “That's why they chose that bed.”

  Eva wanted to turn away but found herself unable to stop watching. She'd seen and heard people having sex before; privacy was hard to come by on the street. But these two were oblivious to their audience. No…they weren't oblivious; they were enjoying their audience.

  The man pumped into his sub faster, her back arched, and they cried out in climax. Even with the window between them, Eva scented their arousal and the mingled scents of their release, and she responded. Her nipples drew tight under the silk cups of her corset. She shivered and turned back to the room.

  “The evening's still young, Eva. You'll be seeing lots more. Soon.” Kevin winked and took her hand, pulling her toward the other end of the room

  She paused at a table where an older man was using a pump to apply suction cups to a woman's back. The woman was in a blissful state—her eyes were heavy, and she was smiling dreamily. She was secured in a web of rope that was exquisitely beautiful. Eva wanted to stay and watch more, but Kevin tugged at her hand.

  When she saw their destination, her eyes grew large. A huge bed was suspended from the ceiling. It was curtained with hanging chains. Damn thing was big enough for a dozen! A woman lay in the center of the bed, lazily stroking the erect cocks of two very happy men.

  “Climb up.” Brian bodily lifted her onto the bed, ignoring her struggles. Without another word, he stalked away. Kevin followed her onto the bed and sat cross-legged, then pulled her into his arms. “We're mixing your scent with a lot of other people's. Just settle in and enjoy the show.”

  Eva couldn't help but notice that Kevin was certainly enjoying the show. After a few minutes, he grinned, leaned back, and located the woman's breasts. He licked at her nipples and then, coming back, took a quick swipe at one of the men's cocks. He gave her a naughty grin.

&nbs
p; “I'd like to do that to you too, but Harte would kick my ass all the way back to Calistoga.”

  Eva flushed, imagining Harte in a possessive rage. For just a second, she was unable to breathe.

  “That's where you're from? Calistoga?” Anxiety settled in her belly. That was too close for comfort. Yet Eva couldn't avoid the flutter of pleasure at knowing that Harte's territory was nearby.

  “Yup. We can escape up into the hills for runs now and then, and most of us work there. Harte owns several businesses. Spas mostly.”

  “Spas? Like the Calistoga mud-bath kind of spa?”

  “Exactly. You can come and soak in mineral water, sit in a pool of mud, or get a facial or massage.”

  “And what do you do?”

  He grinned. “I give the massages.”

  “I'll bet you do.”

  He chuckled and directed her attention to a station just outside their hideout. “That couple met here at Dark Haven. He bid on her at an auction, and they've been together ever since. They even got married here.”

  “No way!” She watched as the young husband finished the last touches on an elaborate webbing of rope that held his wife immobile. The woman was passive, allowing him to position her as he pleased. Once he was satisfied with his work, he opened his bag and removed a scrap of fur. He then set several canes and whips out in neat order. After stepping up behind her, he ran a long cane up the inside of her thigh.

  “He'll warm her up slowly with lots of touch. Some can take pain right off the bat; others have to move up slowly.”

  “I don't understand any of this. I don't understand the need to submit.”

  “You probably aren't a sub like me. Truthfully, subs can be hard to come by. You faced down Patrice pretty easily and stood up to Brian, but you bow to Harte.”

  “I don't know why,” she grumbled.

  “He's alpha. And there's something between you two. How'd he get you undressed, anyway?”

 

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