The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection

by Rebekah Lewis

  Rick stepped in front of his wife, shielding her. He hadn’t turned off the camera, but he slowly set it down, probably hoping the beast before him was too stupid to realize what a camera was. Keeping his hands out in nonthreatening gesture, Rick cautiously stood up and then began to back away. He remained between Pan and Cindy. How very noble.

  Pan smiled, though in this form it likely appeared as a snarl. Lifting off from the ground, he knocked Rick over, which caused Cindy to tumble back down in effect. Neither concerned him. They weren’t his prey.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, citrus and female filled his senses. Katerina. She was afraid, but her fear would be short lived. He’d make it up to her.

  With a gust of air, he glided upward, flapping his wings every so often as he gained altitude. The trees made it difficult, but he maneuvered through them like he’d been born to fly. He dipped under a low branch as he descended toward Katerina.

  She dropped to the ground as he flew over her head, dodging him. Adrenaline shot through his system, almost as invigorating as an orgasm in itself. He was pleased she wasn’t to be caught easily. The hunt made the capture so much more satisfying.

  Katerina was almost to the van when he landed on the top of the vehicle and perched in front of her like a gargoyle, crouched with one hand on the edge of the roof. Pan folded his wings and towered above her as he leered, sizing her up. She stared up at him, mouth open in a scream that provided no sound. Pan watched as a tear streaked down her face, and it impacted him like a sucker punch to the gut.

  She was terrified of him and would never want him now. He’d only deluded himself. However, if he gave up and let her go, she’d flee the area and give up her film. She should leave the area. It was the best thing for her to do. The only thing that would keep her safe from his lecherous thoughts.

  No. She is mine.

  The last time he’d felt a strong connection to someone, he’d let her slip through his fingers and into the path of harm before he could see if anything more could have blossomed between them. He’d been so scared of consequences for his actions that he hadn’t manned up in time to act. Not again. Fuck waiting to see why she was there. He wasn’t allowing her to leave, and he damned sure wouldn’t stand by as something happened to her because of any association she had with him.

  Never again.

  His wings unfurled as he used the leverage of the van to push into a dive, the strength and force of his body knocking the vehicle sideways in the road. Katerina screamed, finding her voice at last, as he landed directly in front of her on hoofed feet. He intimidated her with his size, fearsome appearance, and blatant nudity. She scrambled backward in the dirt like a crab, rolling over into a crawl as she forced herself to her feet. When she attempted to run, the fog hindered her by concealing the line of trees beyond her field of vision.

  Katerina crashed into a tree, turned, and caught the impact with her back and an, “oomph.” He took the opportunity to crowd her in, blocking any escape with his body. Trapping her against the pine tree, he buried his snout between her neck and shoulder. The scent of fear came off her in waves, mixed with the distinct hint of oranges. Her breathing was heavy, choked with sobs, and leaving smoky clouds in the crisp October air, containing the scent of the wine she’d been drinking the last few days. It had been made to linger and affect its drinker long after consuming it.

  The wine was most definitely a message to him. She was a message to him. One he should study before sampling. Avoid sampling. A warning; one he should heed. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself of what he should do, the more he longed to do the opposite.

  It’s too late.

  Pan dragged her bodily to his chest with one arm; the other dipped down to catch behind her knees in order to lift her. She was too shocked to react. With Katerina in his arms, he tore off the ground and into the trees. A beast with his beauty. Her terrified scream echoed in the night and shattered his soul.

  ***

  Kat’s throat burned and her screams grew hoarse as the Jersey Devil—the Jersey Fucking Devil—snatched her off the ground and flew into the air. She had been too stunned to believe what was happening at first. An animalistic growl had cut through the silence somewhere behind her, and her first thought had been that she’d screwed up a second time and couldn’t be lucky enough to live through a brutal attack twice.

  She’d expected a bear or a bobcat behind her, not a mythical monster! The creature was supposed to be a superstition; it wasn’t supposed to be real. Everything about it didn’t add up to a real creature, yet she couldn’t come up with any reasonable explanation for what happened or what was currently carrying her over the Pine Barrens like a fat, juicy grub being hauled to a nest full of squawking baby birds by their mother. Not an image that helped pacify her nerves in the least.

  When he backed her against the tree, she hadn’t moved, hadn’t fought. The creature had sported an enormous erection, which was wedged against her hip at the moment. More disturbingly, many aspects of the creature, from its shoulders down to its thighs, looked human. Its penis resembled a human penis, and that freaked her out more than anything else. It was scientifically impossible for anything human to breed with an animal and create offspring, but this thing was a genetic clusterfuck on two legs.

  I’m being kidnapped by the Jersey Devil. Probably about to get raped and then eaten.

  Maybe not in that order.

  Hell no.

  A glimpse below proved they were flying miles above the tops of the tall pines that gave the Barrens its name, but she squirmed and kicked, hell, she put in a good, hard blood-drawing bite for good measure. She’d rather a swift plummet to her death than a prolonged death by violation. Her sick mind painted vivid, detailed scenarios involving what was in store for her when they landed. It would drink her blood like wine to wash down the meat it stripped from her bones, using said bones as toothpicks when it was finished. If she made it out of New Jersey alive, she was throwing away every horror movie she owned.

  The creature only wrapped his arms around her tighter with a grunt and a growl to demonstrate its displeasure at her actions. All she was left with from her exertion was a coppery taste in her mouth and a closer encounter with the part of him she wanted to be farthest away from. Well, second part of him. She’d prefer to be far away from his pointed teeth as well. Nevertheless, the erection pressing into her side reminded her that he was most definitely a warm-blooded male, no matter the species.

  Abruptly, the creature descended into the fog and trees. Kat shrieked at the sudden downward motion and tightened her arms around her captor. When she realized what she had done, she immediately tried to wiggle out of the monster’s grasp, but could not pry herself loose.

  JD, she decided to call him in an attempt to calm herself somewhat in order to be brave, landed in front of a long unused marble fountain full of leaves and branches rather than water. The figure in the middle was of a woman, draped in a sheet or a toga-style dress. The stone woman had long, curled hair, and one of her hands dipped into the area where water should have been. Her expression appeared so sad, lost even. The oddity of seeing it momentarily made Kat forget her current circumstances. What a peculiar thing to find in the middle of the woods.

  Then the creature carried her past the fountain and into the dark shadow of some large structure looming ahead. She shoved against JD’s chest, attempting to force the creature to drop her. It was futile as the monster retained its death grip.

  As JD carried her onward, the curtain of fog revealed the shape to be an old house. Not quite a mansion, it appeared to be an oversized two-story building in dire need of repair from what small amount of detail she could discern in the gloom. The closer the beast carried her, the more details she could make out. Windows were broken, and graffiti covered the walls. The beast paused on the front steps, giving Kat time to see THE DEVIL’S LAIR scrawled in vivid red letters over the front door, clearly visible even in the darkness. It might as
well have read, “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.” Nothing good could result in going inside.

  The door creaked open of its own accord. Like anything creepier had been necessary.

  “Please,” Kat pleaded, drawing the Jersey Devil’s crimson glowing eyes to hers. “Don’t do this. Let me go. I won’t tell anyone I saw you. I’ll go home. I’ll burn the footage we took. Just please, don’t hurt me. Don’t take me in there.”

  JD glanced away from her and exhaled loudly. As Kat flirted with the possibility the creature had understood her and would maybe concede to her wishes, it took a step forward. Then another. Before her mind could fully register the hopelessness of her situation, they were inside. The door slammed behind them, and the world was bathed in darkness.

  Chapter Six

  The situation looked bad. Pan’s arousal had calmed itself—mostly—but it was still at attention in her presence. He’d run off with her to a dark, secluded place. To somewhere no one could hear her scream. His home.

  It looked worse than bad.

  Pan carried Katerina up the grand staircase and swung a left on the landing, toward his bedroom. He’d bespelled the interior of the house to appear to humans as too hazardous for trespassing. He lifted the illusion for Katerina. While much of the inside really did need work done, it wasn’t beyond suitable to live in. The outside appeared worse by far, but it kept squatters from taking up residence in his home while he was away. Aside from some graffiti and smashed windows, most trespassers stayed clear.

  Inside the bedroom was a king-size bed. Regrettably, it was a little dusty from disuse, so Pan turned and flapped a wing in its direction. Katerina sneezed as the dust went airborne before settling in new homes throughout the room. He could see well enough in the dark to catch the annoyed glare she cast his way. Better anger than fear, he supposed.

  He dropped his precious cargo onto the dark emerald comforter turned black by the lack of lighting. Pan had deposited her a little less delicately than he meant to, and she bounced upon impact, giving a faint squeak. Afterward, he lit the candles in the candelabra that rested on the dresser across from the bed with matches he retrieved from the top drawer. The glow illuminated the room, though the shadows in the corners seemed even more ominous due to the flickering flames.

  The room seemed bare, he supposed. Having learned a few style methods from the Spartans, there wasn’t much in terms of decoration. He had a bed and a chest of drawers, mostly empty. There was a modest nightstand to the right of the bed, and the tall bookcase against the far wall was the only piece of furniture he really utilized at all. It was filled with several classics, contemporary novels, and books on the history and folklore of the ages. Pan was well-read, despite spending most of his time in the woods. It helped him acclimate to the times and cultures and to live a life other than his own for a brief time. Even the gods needed escapism, and he’d always been the black sheep of the family who hadn’t wanted to live amongst the Olympians.

  He watched Katerina blink against the light before she scanned the room in open-mouthed wonderment at where the infamous Jersey Devil had brought her. Then an expression of horror washed over her face as she recalled her predicament. He could see the precise moment Katerina realized she was in his bedroom, in his bed, and what that could possibly mean for her. He hadn’t considered that when he chose this room for her. If he’d been digging a hole in the dirt since he revealed himself to Katerina, Rick, and Cindy, he’d be six-feet deep and still digging.

  She leaped off the bed and attempted to rush past him to the hall. He stretched out his wings and let the eight-foot wingspan intimidate her, denying her passage. The room was barely big enough for him to pull such a stunt.

  This is getting old.

  She turned her back to him and slinked toward the bed, appearing so defeated that he actually felt like an ass. Pan reverted to his basic satyr form, but kept the wings. “Katerina, desist from the feeble escape attempts. You’ll only exhaust yourself, and I’ll just keep catching you and bringing you back here.” He bit back a laugh as she nearly toppled over, spinning to face him.

  Katerina took in his familiar features and then those that were new to her—his horns, wings, and finally his hooves—and she sputtered. She rubbed her eyes and stared at his feet again before her gaze traveled upward, searching his face for an explanation. Pan wondered if she would find one there. Truthfully, with the gawking his satyr appearance brought out in people, he never expected much in the way of acceptance. Humans are too easily spooked.

  “P-Peter? You’re the Jersey Devil? How is this even possible?” Katerina backed into the chest of drawers. It made an unattractive noise as it scooted a few inches behind her. She placed her hands on the object to steady it and herself.

  Pan shrugged. He willed away the wings and stepped toward her. Katerina scrambled to the bookshelf, grabbed a heavy hardback copy of Homer’s The Odyssey, and wielded it like a weapon. “Stay right there.” Katerina waved the book at him, using both hands to grasp it. She reminded him of a woman trying to scare a rodent away with a broom.

  Arms crossed, he stated, “That’s an antique edition.” Pages were already starting to deteriorate. In five to ten years, it would crumble, maybe sooner.

  Clearly he’d said the wrong thing because she hurled the book at him. He dodged it but didn’t react in time to miss the brick titled Moby Dick as it followed. It struck him in the shoulder with a thump, and he laughed. Katerina seemed to take a personal affront to his amusement and began chucking literature at him more fervently.

  Pan took a few hits on his way to her, but he managed to snag her wrist and drag her away from her artillery supply. Katerina yanked her hand out of his grasp and bared her teeth. Feisty wench.

  “Damn it, stop,” he said through clenched teeth of his own. “I’m not going to harm you. Calm down.”

  She punched him in the face. The impact a sudden flare of soreness that spread hotly from his cheek to his neck as his head whipped to the side.

  Katerina immediately cradled her hand against her chest and bit her lip. The punch hadn’t really hurt him. It had shocked him, yet he understood what drove her to it. He’d abducted and toyed with her. He deserved to be the target of her fury.

  Katerina turned from him and sank onto the end of the bed, rubbing lightly at her knuckles. She didn’t retain eye contact afterward, but she seemed to find the floorboards intriguing. “Could you please put on a pair of pants or something? If you aren’t going to hurt me, I would assume you aren’t planning on using...that.” She finally looked back at him, gaze brushing over his penis before she looked away just as quickly.

  His cock appreciated any and all attention, and was so flattered by her quick peek, that it stirred. No matter that it wasn’t the time for it. Pan observed the reddening of her cheeks. It wouldn’t have been perceptible to a mortal’s eye in the low lighting.

  Pan resumed his human glamour, sporting dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and no shoes.

  “What are you?” Katerina asked, eyes widening as his form changed.

  He could’ve answered her, but he wanted to lighten the mood. “That hurts. Here I thought we were upon an era where everyone was accepted for who and what they are.”

  She glared.

  “Fine.” He leaned back against the wall and re-crossed his arms. “I’m a satyr.” He figured the god bit might be overkill if he started there. Anyone with knowledge of mythology could see his satyr form and come to terms with that far easier than they could handle that Olympians really existed. She’d think he was full of himself rather than believe he was an actual deity. Pan almost missed the good ole days where humans were honored by being in their presence.

  When she didn’t reply to his revelation, he prodded, “Well?”

  “Sorry. You were speaking crazy. I had a hard time following.”

  He glowered. “If you would like me to do another demonstration...” He knew his eyes started to glow red as though he were about to go
full Jersey Devil on her.

  “No!” She cleared her throat. “Please, no. Sarcasm is my coping mechanism. I can’t help myself.”

  He calmed. “I forgive you. However, I’m aware you were a skeptic before this evening. While seeing is believing in your line of work, I can practically hear your mind churning out petty excuses to explain what you deem impossible. Let me assure you, there were no tricks of light, smoke, and mirrors, or being knocked out and dreaming it all. I am one of the Satyroi, an immortal race of satyrs, and I can amplify my appearance into that which has been commonly referred to as the Jersey Devil.”

  “Immor...immortal?” Her voice cracked. “This is all too much.” Katerina put her head in her hands as she leaned over her lap, attempting to curl into a ball. Her breaths came a bit heavier as she began hyperventilating. He inched toward her, wanting to help, but she held out her hand without lifting her head, motioning for him to stay put.

  “I can’t deal with this right now.”

  “I understand.” Pan opened the top drawer of the chest and retrieved his panpipes. He could have manifested them easily, but some notion of normality would be better for the time being. “I’ve frightened and upset you, and for that I truly am sorry. I’m known to be impulsive and don’t quite think things through as I should. It’s my flaw.”

  “Really? That’s your flaw?” Katerina had glanced up when he’d opened the drawer. She eyed the panpipes warily. “What are you gonna do with that?”

  “This?” He held the pipes into the light. There were seven reed shoots, all different lengths in size, bound together with leather from shortest to tallest. “I am going to play you a lullaby. You grow weary and need to rest. Your mind will manage better after it has recovered from tonight.”

  But he didn’t play them yet. He frowned at her, still puzzled by her appearance in the Pine Barrens and his life. “You may have many questions, but then I do too. The most important being, why are you here?”