Deciding to act, Zol sent a drill-beam to the nearest security person, and peered inside his mind. To his consternation, the roving teams ran face shots of the guests through recognition software. “You are correct, Zin. My excuse, brother, she has my head in an impassioned dither.”
“Blood loss to our brains. It’s traveled due south, then risen dramatically.”
“Speaking of dramatically, our witch is walking this way, to view these paintings, I believe.”
“Hmmm, a measure of fate may be ours.” Zin sidestepped to a painting where he could keep his surreptitious gaze on her.
“Agreed. We should appear engrossed in the merits of the artwork.” Zol perused a gothic presentation of a demon-angel, the lines sharp as knives. He wondered if the Being it resembled had made itself known to the artist’s imagination.
The enchanting smile on the witch’s face pleased Zin as greatly as her physical charms. Could he charm her, inspire her to cast a love spell upon him and Zol, even if they were likely immune?
Amused by his whimsical thoughts, Zin strolled before a door-sized painting. An idyllic land had been depicted, surrounded by skulls piled on top of one another, as if the graveyards had no more room for the dead.
“Do you think it represents all those who didn’t transcend once death came upon them?” Zin asked his brother, who joined him.
“Perhaps that interpretation. Or all those who have been sacrificed to gain an ideal land for the sake of a few.”
Zol scented the petite witch’s fragrance as if he drew in the essence of a rare wine. Swirling her feminine perfume within himself, he closed his eyes and basked for brief moments.
Not to be denied, Zin gathered in her sweet spicy brew of scents. Hades help him, he howled to lick them off her, slowly, deliberately—so she moaned for the feel of his tongue.
“Candy Apple, the Halloween-themed name of her drink, I believe.” Zin spoke to dispel his bestial lust.
“Yes, I smell it, as well.” Zol forced himself to taste his martini. “I am a hound whimpering to mount her, brother.”
“She could make me whimper and beg like a poodle. Quiet,” Zin cautioned. “I do believe she is approaching us.”
Chapter Four:
Alien Tuxedo Twins
Kandace sipped on her ice-whipped drink. Flavored with apple liqueur and apple cider, it was her own recipe for a Candy Apple. Not only did she relish the taste, the color matched her dress.
Besides, she definitely needed the alcohol for her frayed nerves. Not because of her theft, no—the Alien Tuxedo Twins, as she thought of them, had her spooked but good. Shivers cascaded through her as she glanced their way.
Actually, one of twins had donned a tux while the other one wore a dressed-to-the-nines evening suit. Who knew if they switched off? Kandace shrugged. She swirled the icy tangy concoction around her tongue with enjoyment.
Determined to ignore the heebie-jeebies, she gave her hair a toss. Kandace knew they weren’t fully human. What they were, she hadn’t discovered, so far. She stayed out of their social orbit and kept her distance.
Oh, she’d made discreet inquiries, all right. However, whoever she gabbed with would end up smirking, then give her that knowing look. Yeah, right, she wanted to jump the twins’ Remington Steele-elegant bones.
Okay, true, the old TV show, starring Pierce Brosnan, remained one of her guilty pleasures.
Kandace dipped her tongue tip in her drink, scooping out a taste. Maybe if she knew what freakin’ dimension, planet, whatever, the Alien Tuxedo Twins hailed from she’d be interested in one of them. Maybe.
The only reason she inquired about the women in their lives was so she could politely interrogate them. However, Zol and Zin, as they were known, had been exceptionally discreet in their conquests. It’d been like pulling hen’s teeth with slick pliers—still, Kandace had gathered five names.
She’d made it a priority to speak with those women. Not one of them revealed anything of any consequence, and the dreamy smiles on their faces had quickly become too annoying.
Even when she’d performed a gentle exploration of the women’s minds—nothing, except the sound of satisfied moans. Whoever the two peas in a pod were, they had the ability to keep an individual’s memory shielded, or some power she didn’t comprehend.
As Kandace admitted to whoever asked, she considered Zol and Zin to be living works of art. Whenever she caught sight of them at various artists’ events, a swoony thrill always raced her heart. Yep, fantastic to look at and admire, but that’s all.
Now, though, she had a whole new problem, other than keeping herself safe from the roaming security teams. The Alien Tuxedo Twins had been able to see her, despite her invisibility shield.
True, they didn’t seem overly eager to make her aware they knew about her witchy ability. Still, who the hell were they? What were they?
And did she need to be afraid of them?
To that end, Kandace sauntered ever closer.
“Might as well face the bad guys, if they are, and get it over with.” She whispered the words against the rim of her glass. Taking a sip, Kandace decided against an exploratory thought-form.
If they could see past her magic, they could probably stop her psi search of their minds, and would know she was onto their paranormal abilities.
Kandace strolled before some artist’s attempt to fuse Picasso’s style with the voluptuous fantasy art of Boris Vallejo. Blinking several times, she stared at the horror of high strangeness.
The twin wearing the evening suit sidled next to her as if he merely examined the painting.
“Definitely not my cup of artistic tea,” she commented. “What do you think?”
“I think I’d rather get to know a spooky little girl like you.”
Kandace jumped inside, startled by his bold come-on. “Spooky. Isn’t that a song lyric?”
From the corner of her eye, she watched the other twin join them. Uh-oh, she’d just become the filling for a man sandwich. At least, they appeared to be men, given those high-rise bulges they both sported.
For her?
Certainly, they smelled like real men. Despite the expensive cologne that clung subtly to both of them, their virility slammed into her nostrils and reminded her a bit of her uncle’s Rottweiler dogs.
Damn! No wonder some women fell in a drooling heap at their well-shod feet.
Kandace tipped up a large swallow of her drink. Her throat had suddenly become a desert, and her traitorous hormones began to beg.
Okay, she was a witch. She could handle this. Whatever this exactly was.
“Yes, it is a song lyric. Shall I sing the tune for you?”
Mr. Evening Suit asked in the smoothest yet sexiest voice she’d heard since Cary Grant. Kandace knew because her sister had watched all of the suave actor’s movies during her girlhood crush on him.
Intrigued by what he would actually do, Kandace flirtatiously angled her shoulders toward him. “Please.”
“In the cool of the evening,” he crooned, “when everything is getting kind of groovy, I call you up and ask you if you want to go and see a movie.”
Geez and tease her, Mr. Evening Suit’s sun-bronzed features were classically handsome, even more so, up this close and personal. Kandace avoided looking at his slightly wavy dark hair, perfectly groomed, of course. She had a thing when it came to a man’s hair. She wanted to wildly run her fingers through and not stop.
“First you say no,” the other twin sang, smooth as velvet, “you've got some plans for the night, and then you stop, and say, all right.”
Kandace did make a tactical error, though. She met his gaze, instantly losing herself in his coffee-colored eyes, illumined by flame. So it appeared.
“Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you,” they sang in stereo.
Feeling halfway seduced, Kandace saluted with her glass. “That’s good. But a girl can only take so much from a pair of womanizers like you.”
“Womanize
r?” the Tuxedo Twin inquired. “Do you mean as in a libertine or wolf?”
“Exactly. Quaint reference, libertine. You two aren’t time travelers, are you?” Kandace hoped her voice sounded lighthearted, joking. It was hard to tell, given their mighty testosterone effect on her.
For a brief moment, they glanced at each other, easy to do since they towered above her. Tiny golden vibrations emanated from their foreheads and Kandace wondered exactly how telepathic they were.
“We’re not time travelers by common definition,” the evening suit twin answered.
“But, you do travel through time,” Kandace persisted. Why not? If they knew about her, why shouldn’t she know about them?
She took a nervous sip, but hardly tasted her drink.
Again, the twins trained their gazes on each other for a bare instant.
“We have. However, not by our own power, little witch.” Mr. Tuxedo’s sexy croon had her shifting toward him.
“Witch. You say that as if you believe I am an actual witch.”
Probably not smart, calling them out so soon, especially when I’m sandwiched between them. And just how did they time travel? Kandace frowned mentally.
“You are.” They spoke as one, freaking her out and tingling her spine. It felt like a tray of ice cubes slid down it.
“Why do you think that?” Glancing from one to the other, Kandace took a step back. She peeked over her shoulder before returning her gaze. No one else was close to them.
“You’re an Enduoir witch,” they chorused together, their gazes eerily intense.
“What the hell is that?” Kandace’s anger sparked. Swivelling her head back and forth, she glared at them both.
“Before we explain I believe introductions are in order, don’t you?” Mr. Evening Suit arched a brow in the same style as Cary Grant. With debonair ease, he placed his martini glass on a nearby tray.
Kandace did a double take, emotionally. “Fine, introductions. Who are you?”
“I am Zindale David Victorre, or Zin for short, and this is my twin brother.” With controlled elegance, he gestured to Mr. Tuxedo Man.
“I am Zolivar Dean Victorre. Zol for short. May we know your name?” He placed his glass next to his brother’s. His gaze remained on her, polite but volcanic.
The entire scene would have tickled Kandace silly, if she hadn’t been on guard and wondering if they did actually know her true heritage. Could it really be they had the answers she hadn’t been able to find?
“Kandace Sylvia Winter.” She’d decided to tell them her real name. What did it ultimately matter with these two, anyway? It wasn’t as though they couldn’t find out.
Their gazes snapped together as if they’d been struck by a sudden revelation. Kandace almost giggled because it was sort of cartoon-like. Although, she hadn’t been around twins much, so who knew how they behaved with each other.
“Is something wrong?” she prompted.
“Kandy. Is that your nickname?” Zindale’s gaze glowed.
Kandace swore she witnessed blue flames leap for a split second in the depths of his eyes. Okay, now she really wanted to know who and what they were.
“Yes, since you ask. Oh, I get it now.” After giving her hair a shake, she raised one shoulder in an attitude of indifference. “Kandy Apple, my nickname, especially around Halloween.”
“Is that why you’re wearing that deliciously sexy red dress?” Zol let her know by his slow perusal of her body, he found her attractive, to say the effing least.
“I like the color. I’m also fond of candy apples. Make of that what you will.” Kandace tipped up her glass, draining it. There really was no defense against their lustful imaginings. She certainly didn’t have to take a mental peek to know the direction of their thoughts.
“We want to lick Kandy Apple for Halloween,” they rasped together.
Their voices were polished restraint, so much so, Kandace didn’t spin around and leave. She didn’t gaze directly at them, either. We, they’d said we. Nope, she wasn’t going down that rabbit hole by asking what they meant.
Dammit, hole. Obviously, they both wanted her pussy hole. No wonder those women had dreamy expressions. Two, two, at once. Oh, Goddess, why was she remembering the stupid Doublemint twins? Okay, she had seen a YouTube vid of the old commercial recently because a friend had e-mailed it.
“No, you are not licking this Kandy Apple for Halloween. I’ll send you some real candy apples.”
Why were her feet super-glued to the floor? Hell, why did her skin burn with what could only be described as raunchy desire? Frakking-crap, why didn’t one of them say something before she crushed her glass? “I believe I’m in need of another drink.”
Zin gently relieved her of the glass. “I’ll be right back, Kandace.” Pivoting with languid grace, he moved away.
“We’ve frightened you. That wasn’t our intention.” Zol extended his hand in invitation. “Care to dance, Kandace? The music has begun.”
She lifted a brow. “If you tell me what you meant by Enduoir witch.”
Chapter Five:
Where is this Enduoir Prime?
“It will be my distinct pleasure.”
Zol couldn’t recall ever desiring the touch of a woman’s hand more, certainly not with this savage intensity. Speculation, wariness glinted within her bewitching indigo eyes, more appropriately described as shimmering orbs of cobalt blue and purple.
She approached him like a slow-motion scene, and when her hand alighted on his, Zol softly winged inside.
“If you don’t tell me, remember, I am wearing spiked heels.” She scowled formidably. “I do know how to use them.”
“In the bedroom?” Zol raised his brows and drew her closer.
The image of Kandy Apple nude except for her red high heels refused to be easily dismissed. Still, he managed to maintain his gentlemanly demeanor, offering a smile as he brought her beside him.
“I imagine your balls would make perfect targets,” she replied, not missing a beat.
“Ouch. Not quite the use I envisioned for them, beautiful Kandace.” Zol twined their arms, leading her toward the dance floor.
“A man who doesn’t shrink from sparring. You are a rare breed in this day and age.”
Zol heard her intrigue with him Though, at this point it remained seed-sized.
“Zin and I prefer to think of ourselves as a rare breed.” As hellhounds they’d been created to be unique. Yet, in essence, they remained similar to every hellhound.
“Well, Mr. Rare Breed, what kind of breed are you?”
I’m a hellhound in drooling lust for you, luscious Kandy Apple. Lick, lick.
“One question at a time. Why don’t I explain what kind of witch you are first?”
Zol halted them at the edge of the ballroom floor, and took a step back. With a twist of his wrist, he whirled her once to the symphonic, too-tame version of “Thriller.”
She flowed into his embrace at his guidance. Pausing, she stood on tiptoe and eyed him like the annoyed witch she was. “So far, you’ve kept my supposed witchiness your own deep dark secret.”
“An Enduoir witch is not native to Earth.” Zol swung her onto the dance floor, the slick surface an opalescent sheen that pleased his human senses.
At the same instant, her stunned breath exploded against his shirt. He watched her tighten her jaw. “Is that so?”
Gliding his Kandy Apple among the other couples, he observed the speculative looks from several he knew as acquaintances. “Enduoir Prime is a planetoid, so far unknown to most Earth astronomers.”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice impatiently clawed.
“You were raised as a human. Of course you don’t understand.”
She became distracted by her thoughts, and Zol eased her a fraction closer, immensely enjoying the fragile yet lithe and fiery-spirited feel of her.
“Planetoid.” She searched his eyes and Zol lost himself in the deeper shade of purple her eyes had become. “Where
is this Enduoir Prime?”
“It’s in Pluto’s sector of the solar system.” At her look of disbelief, he added, “At the heart is a magma furnace, or a colossal volcano. Steam vents cover the surface and cause a thin cloud cover that obscures the world.”
Her eyes widened dramatically just before she averted her face. Zol whirled them several times, and brought her closer.
She danced against him with the lissome delicacy of a sylph. He and Zin always partnered the sylphs at any glade revelry they attended for the ethereal pleasure of dancing with them.
Zol gently encouraged her palm on his shoulder, then caressed her dainty hand. Obviously, something had struck home with her. She didn’t speak, merely following his steps, her body flowing within his hold.
“Is the music to your liking, Kandace?”
“It’s violin-fancified elevator music. However, as they used to say, you dance divinely.”
Her words had the ring of sincerity, yet her rapid glance at him revealed what he sensed—she churned inside, deeply troubled.
With his passion burning him alive, Zol crooned, “You move with the grace of an air sprite in my arms, and when you walk beside me.”
“Air sprite? Did you study poetry, or something?”
“Study, no. Zin and I are fond of reciting romantic verses, even though it’s not considered a manly activity.”
She quirked her brows, then nearly stumbled. Zol lifted her off her feet as if that was part of their dance routine.
“That threw me. It’s not considered macho, but no wonder…never mind.” She drew in a deep breath, firmed her chin and gazed at him directly. “I’ve painted scenes of a world like you described,” she paused, “often.”
The music changed, a bizarre string rendition of “Sympathy for the Devil,” and Zol spun his air sprite, moving them into a slower tempo. “Have you had dreams, also?”
She shook her head slightly, the spiraling tendrils of hair dancing to a livelier tune. “Not dreams, but daydreams once in awhile. And I always end up petting this winged cat.”
Kougar, Savanna - Kandy Apple and Her Hellhounds (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 3
