The Jewel of Darkness [Celestial Jewels 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by J. Annas Walker

  The car lurched forward, swerving dangerously between other speeding vehicles. Farrell hit the HOV lane at top speed, cutting off a city bus, and took the first exit ramp for that lane. He came to an abrupt stop at the top of the ramp before running the light to make a left. He ran the following two lights, making right-hand turns.

  Sabrina had nothing to brace against. Unprepared for the sudden movements, she found herself thrown around. Cringing, she squeezed her eyes tight and wished for some way to protect herself. The pitching stopped. Silence took the place of all the other noises, both inside and out of the car. The squealing tires and blaring car horns were gone instantly. The pendant hummed with magic, warm and heavy around her neck.

  An unknown amount of time passed. Her eyes were still shut. Brandon’s whispered voice told her to let go of her fear, to release the magic. Having him so near helped her relax, but she could not simply let go.

  Slowly opening her eyes, she found him seated beside her and both of them surrounded by a shell of dark rainbows and shadows. The necklace lay hot against her skin, still humming with power. Unlike before, when the barrier looked like a sphere, the shell seemed to take the shape of their surroundings. They were alone, isolated from the others. She gripped his hand.

  She wished she could see through the barrier. The hazy shadows parted like a curtain being opened. The dark rainbows still danced on the invisible wall around them.

  The city whizzed by outside the window. They passed other vehicles and people on the street. No one seemed to notice anything strange going on inside their car. It was as if Brandon and Sabrina had become a world unto themselves.

  Delilah sat beside her in all her green glory and sharp-toothed smiling. She lifted a finger and tried to touch Sabrina’s arm. She silently laughed and clapped when repelled. Without sound penetrating the shell, her reactions were like watching a silent film.

  Camilla looked over her shoulder, alarmed. Her mouth moved. She glanced out the windows and turned back to Farrell. She said something to Delilah, resumed her position, and stared straight ahead. She appeared very unhappy.

  Tall buildings whizzed by as Farrell sped down the narrow old streets. He never let off the gas. He hardly slowed enough to take the tight turn into the parking deck of their apartment building. Whipping into a space close to the elevators, he stopped short of hitting a support column.

  Arriving home made Sabrina feel safe. The barrier melted. The necklace cooled somewhat. Her skin underneath the gold bezel tingled. No one spoke. She wondered if only the visual aspect of the shell left, leaving an audio block in place.

  “I don’t know about you, but that was the most fun I’ve had all year!” Delilah proved the sound-blocking theory wrong. She clapped her hands together and gave a shout as she opened her door. “Woo hoo!”

  “Dammit!” Camilla and Farrell both said at the same time.

  He got out and stood by Brandon’s door, scanning his side of the parking deck. Sabrina hardly recognized him. She always saw the weasel-like, nervous, used-car salesman version of him. Buried deep down inside, a man of courage waited for his chance to shine.

  Camilla did the same for her side. She did not close the open rear passenger door, but she did block it with her body. She sniffed once, twice, and then a third time. Stepping out of the way, she quietly gave Sabrina the all clear.

  Farrell opened Brandon’s door. “Okay, sir. We’re good,” he confirmed.

  Delilah waited by the elevator. The up button glowed in the semi-dark and orange security lights. The lighting combination gave her pale, sea-foam green skin a strange tone. Her super-white teeth looked like sharp orange Creamsicles tucked away behind a dark, green-black pair of lips.

  As they clustered together to wait for the elevator doors to open, a swirl of wind blew through the deck. The heavy, nearly choking scent of clove followed the breeze.

  “Hold your breath!” Delilah shouted and capped a hand over her nose and mouth. No one questioned the command, and they followed her lead.

  Sabrina thought about the stranger in her bed. There had been a heavy clove mixed with olive oil and myrrh. The man in the mall smelled of the latter, but missing the clove. Here the clove lacked the other two. Was this something different or were similar forces at work?

  More cloak-and-dagger. I told him no more nonsense, she thought.

  The rudeness of his disobeying her demand for a more polite conversation annoyed her. The primal power roused the lioness. The big cat roared with indignation. How dare he enter her sacred space uninvited? Without stopping to think, she stepped forward, held up her hands, and in as strong a voice as she could muster, she yelled, “Stop this and leave!”

  The wind began moving closer. It tried to wrap itself around Sabrina but nothing touched her body. There seemed to be an indistinguishable whisper rotating around her in the column of air. The overpowering scent burned her mouth and lungs, but she refused to be moved. It moved on to the group behind her. Instead of picking one person or another, it chose the group as a whole.

  Sabrina had the feeling the whispers were a warning and a threat. They seemed to say, “Come with me, or your friends will suffer.” The pendant flashed to life with hazy shadows and dark rainbows. Before she could react, the wind tightened around the group.

  Camilla reached her limit and gasped for breath. When she did, she took the heavy spiced air into her lungs. She gagged and went down on all fours, clutching at her throat. Changing into a wolf did not improve her situation. She needed air.

  Anger rushed through Sabrina. A flash of dark rainbows and shadows pushed outward in the direction of the swirl of wind. She took a few steps forward, forcefully willing the intruder to leave. The wind died down, along with the aroma of clove. As quickly as it came, it was gone.

  Wheezing and a barking cough echoed off the concrete walls. Farrell picked his wife up off the cold floor. He stroked her fur and nuzzled her neck with his cheek. She whimpered as he did.

  “There, there, my flower. Let’s go home. Shhh. I’m here. I’m here and you’re gonna be fine,” he cooed softly.

  Delilah flourished her hand in the air. A clear, crystal vial appeared. She placed it in Farrell’s pocket, as his hands were full of werewolf.

  “Two drops every hour on the hour until sunrise, but only two. Got that?”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Farrell said. When the doors slid open, he did not wait for anyone else. Still cooing words of comfort, he carried Camilla into the car and hit the button.

  Sabrina sniffed back a tear as the doors closed. The sight of the little man cradling a wolf as large as himself tugged at her heartstrings. Intense compassion weaved through her soul and tears threatened to spill. Her emotions rode a rollercoaster.

  Brandon pulled her in for a hug. His earthy, amber-and-honey scent pushed her tears over the edge.

  “We’re almost home,” he said and kissed the top of her head.

  Home, she thought. Home sounded good, her port in the storm. She wanted to be where she felt safe and secure. She wanted to be somewhere with her father nearby. She wanted to stand on the balcony and gaze at the stars, knowing her mother watched from the night sky.

  A familiar dizziness surrounded her as the world began to spin. The floor dropped away. She increased her grip on Brandon and continued to cry. When the floor felt solid again and the spinning in her head stopped, she looked up to see Brandon staring slack-jawed.

  They had materialized on the balcony of their penthouse apartment.

  Chapter 10

  A ring of flame and heat gave less than a second’s warning of Delilah’s arrival on the balcony. She stood silent and wary. Her clothes shifted from a casual evening outfit to black leather pants and a matching halter top. The heels she clicked through the mall in became thigh-high boots. She looked ready for trouble.

  “Vampires, by the way, are not supposed to do that,” she said with her hands on her hips. “For the record, I’m way out of my comfort zone on this.”
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  “What in the name of night is going on here?” Hadrian’s gruff voice called out from inside the apartment. He came to the door still dressed for work. He gave them each a sharp look, his mouth firmly set in a thin line.

  Sabrina covered her face with her hands, trying hard not to explode with emotion. She was sick of it, sick of being hunted, sick of being hounded by other supernatural beings, and sick of feeling like a freak. Her ragged breaths preceded small tremors all over her body. The primal power dammed up as she turned her thoughts inward. She felt like an overcharged battery.

  Strong hands jerked hers away from her face, pulled her in, too tight to move, and lifted her chin in a series of quick moves. Lips crushed down on her mouth. A probing tongue traced her lips and played with her fangs as she relented.

  The stresses slipped away as she allowed herself to be taken over by this kiss. The agitated lioness settled down, increasing Sabrina’s calm. Forgetting they were not alone, she guided his hand to her breast.

  Hadrian cleared his throat. “Okay. If you two are quite finished, we have a situation to discuss,” he said firmly.

  Brandon released her from his hold. He looked down on her and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Later,” he whispered.

  They found Hadrian in the dining room. He stared at his hands folded in front of him on the table. When one of the kitchen staff stepped in to ask if he wanted anything, he waved her off.

  “I understand we need to have a discussion, but can’t it wait until sunset?” Sabrina asked. She needed to sleep. Exhaustion made her brain feel fuzzy.

  “No. We need to get everyone up to speed now,” Hadrian began. “I just received word that the body behind Delilah’s SUV was that of one Gavin O’Toole, the club manger we dealt with tonight. The dead parking valet had sloppy fang marks and no blood in his body.”

  Brandon looked puzzled. “A faked vampire attack? How did he get from Atlanta to Buford that fast? And why kill the valet?”

  Sabrina glanced from her father to Brandon and back. It was clear she was out of the loop on part of the story. The fuzziness cleared a little.

  “Are you saying you killed someone this evening, and he showed up behind my car?” Delilah’s nostrils flared. She appeared to be one unhappy camper.

  “Yes. One of our guys tried to steal this week’s payoff, and I dealt with him. I had a visitor in the alleyway. A man I find myself unable to name showed up. He finished off the cheat and made the body disappear. I figured he took it with him. The whole encounter was unnerving. When Sabrina didn’t answer her phone, I dropped Hadrian off here and was already en route to find Sabrina when Camilla called,” Brandon explained.

  “My phone never rang,” Sabrina said. She pulled it out of her purse. It registered several missed calls. She checked the ringer. The setting was at full volume. How could she have not heard it?

  Delilah put out her hand for the phone. She scanned the call screen. Giving the phone back to Sabrina, she said, “You were out of your service area for these.”

  “I thought you were at the mall. That’s not out of range,” Brandon pointed out. He looked annoyed.

  Sabrina told them of the incidents in the shoe store and the restaurant. Only this time, she remembered the name and face of the man. It took a great deal of effort to say his name, like an outside force blocked it from her memory. She pushed through the block.

  “Thin…Than…Thane! Thane Morse! That’s his name!”

  “Yes!” Brandon exclaimed. “The name on the business card of the guy who demanded to see us at sunset was Thane Morse! Until you said it, I couldn’t put a name and face together, but I can now.”

  “I didn’t see anyone in the alleyway but you,” Hadrian said coolly. “I assumed the disappearing act was because the guy was half banshee.”

  Delilah choked on the whiskey she had conjured for herself. Coughing harshly, she appeared to fight through the inhaled whiskey for breath.

  In a weak voice and with watery eyes, she asked, “Did you just say Thane Morse? Tall, built like a wrestler, Thane Morse?”

  “Yeah! That’s him,” Sabrina exclaimed. “He made time slow down. Then he said something about property belonging to him being returned. It made me mad to be thought of as property. I didn’t even think about it before I slapped him.”

  Delilah looked as though she were going to faint. “You slapped Thane Morse. She slapped Thane Morse. Oh, shit, I’m in trouble now.” She laid her head down on the table and took even, deep breaths.

  “He was being rude. I told him if he wanted to talk to me, he could drop the cloak-and-dagger crap and do it the proper way,” Sabrina added.

  “Well, you’re getting your wish. He’ll be here at sunset. No threat came with it, but it was implied we should be here to greet him or else,” Brandon said.

  “What does this mean to us?” Hadrian asked. He got up and moved around the table to Delilah. He shivered as he took her shoulders and eased her into an upright position. “Tell me who he is, Delilah.”

  “Drop the “e” from Morse,” she instructed him.

  Hadrian thought for a moment. His eyes widened. A multitude of expressions crossed his face. Confusion changed to surprise and then to fear.

  Sabrina had never seen her father afraid. She looked at Brandon. He, too, appeared nervous. She shifted her attention back to Delilah, hoping someone would tell what the name meant.

  Delilah swallowed hard and answered Sabrina’s unspoken question. “Thane Morse is a modern name for Thanatos. Mors is his Roman name.”

  “That means I…” Sabrina’s voice failed.

  “Slapped Death,” Delilah finished.

  Brandon smacked the table with both palms down. His wedding ring made a clank on the wood. It drew everyone’s attention to him.

  “As there is nothing more we can do about this tonight, I suggest we all call it an early evening and get whatever rest we can,” he said. Rising, he put his hand out to Sabrina.

  She took it. Her feet felt unsteady under her as she stood. The gravity of her rash behavior sank in. She walked in a stupor to their bedroom.

  The fate of her world hung in the balance. Death himself demanded an announced visit. She felt like an ax waited over her head. She prayed he would only take her and leave Brandon alone. Perhaps she could make it part of a bargain, her willing cooperation for Brandon’s safety.

  Brandon closed and locked their door. He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her. Nuzzling in close to her ear, he whispered, “I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but tonight I want to hold you.” He slowly undressed her, allowing his hands to gently brush her skin.

  The feel of the fabric sliding against her skin, pooling on the floor around her feet, helped focus her attention. The primal cat inside her seemed tense but willing. Magical heat layered her skin everywhere he touched her. It soon spread into an even coat, tingling and electric. The internal lioness purred with joy.

  Brandon pressed his lips to her skin, raking his fangs along her shoulder. Hands reached up to cup her breasts. His stiff cock strained his pants, rubbing the tight fabric against her bare ass.

  The heat flared into an unseen flame. Every kiss, every touch burned her down to her soul. Her insides felt like a molten pool. The magic blended and flowed through her molten core. Desire ignited an all-consuming fire. She thought she might lose herself in the moment and merge into one single being with him. If her heart could still beat, it would have pounded out of her chest.

  Brandon moved around in front of her, dropping to his knees. His height allowed him access to her nipples, if he craned his head up slightly. He pulled one into his mouth and worried it between his teeth. He flicked it with his tongue and sucked it hard. When it tightened into a darkened, rosy pebble, he lavished the same attention on the other.

  Sabrina ran her fingers through his dark hair, curling it around her fingers. Wetness began building along her pussy lips. The air took on a slightly musky scent of lust and sex. She kne
w the heat from her skin transferred to him.

  He gasped, looking up from his knees. His eyes took on a wild abandon. It was as if she were the prey and the prize. His expression spoke volumes. She was his to claim, to keep. His treasure.

  Firm hands snaked their way around her body and spanned her back, holding her belly to his hard, sculpted chest. He dropped kisses between each breast, trailing a line of them down her center as he lowered himself. Nibbling her navel, he slipped his hands down her back to cradle her ass in both hands.

  Sabrina’s fingers tugged at his hair. The molten pool gravitated low, igniting its raging heat in her pussy. Her juices flowed freely. Her clit practically begged for his tongue. She lifted her head to the ceiling and whimpered a needy moan.

  He buried his face in her groin, nuzzling her clit with his nose as he inhaled deeply. His tongue slithered along her slit, lapping at her creamy lips. In a swift motion, he lifted her up and laid her back on the bed.

  Following her instincts, she let her legs fall wide, giving him the best access. The lioness stretched and arched her back, happy to comply. The primal power needed to be worshiped, needed him. Her body seemed to act as an altar. She let everything go, the need, the lust, the magic. Everything blended and flowed like a river through her, giving her a head rush.

  Brandon caressed her soft folds gently before slipping one finger, then two, into her pussy. Finding her most sensitive spot, he applied pressure at just the right angle and carefully made small circles. He lavished attention on her swollen clit, lapping and sucking it into a tingling frenzy.

  The primal part of her relished his worship, his devotion to his goddess. The fierce lioness purred with satisfaction. Ripples of desire rolled and waved along the molten pool, reaching her limits.

  He fingered her slit, causing her to clench and quiver. The lapping of her clit turned to an all-out assault of pleasure. He did not stop the relentless combination until he had achieved his goal.