“Because I didn’t want to. I make my own decisions, and I need to find my kids. They’ll be frightened and worried.” She looked at him with such terrified eyes. Some compassion slipped into his heart when she looked at him just that way.
Some. Not a lot. He was the god of retribution, after all. And she’d knocked him out of the sky.
When all he was trying to do was help her. Oh, yes. She’d pay. And he’d enjoy it.
But he had to clean her up a bit first. Of course, the bath was big enough for two…
He wrapped a hand in the material of her shirt and ripped the fragile cloth from her body. She’d bound her breasts in some sort of odd white contraption. He wanted it gone, but the girl was freaking over the shirt already. “Be silent. You are filthy. Since you didn’t handle cleaning yourself before I got here, we have to take care of it now.”
It took him a moment to find the fastener on the back of the breast-binder, but he did. He threw the offending garment out the broken window.
The most beautiful pair of breasts he had ever seen were right there in front of him. It took everything he had not to touch. She wasn’t ready for that yet.
And he liked his partners willing and ready.
She slapped at his hands when he went for the button on the trousers. Kicked at him. He would have some serious fun with this female—as soon as she was a bit more willing, that was. He liked his partners as engaged as he was. “Silence. Hold yourself still. Unless you wish to bathe wearing your trousers?”
— — —
“Let me go.” What was he going to do? Was he going to leave her alone? Drown her? Throw her in the tub himself? She knew she didn’t have a chance of stopping him with force. And pleading didn’t seem to work—nor would she want to beg. Still, she found herself teetering on the edge of doing just that.
She’d only been this naked in front of a man—or whatever this guy was—once before. That had been nothing like this. He yanked her jeans from her legs in spite of how she fought him, then scooped her into his arms.
Teagan got the feeling he liked the way she struggled. Liked how she pressed against him when he lifted her off her feet and carried her across the room. “I don’t want a bath.”
“Don’t be a foolish child. I don’t want my rooms stinking of human filth.”
His rooms?
She’d known the suite was opulent by even filthy rich standards, but she hadn’t realized it was his. “What are you?”
“Baby, I am the God of Nightmares.” His smile was wickedly handsome, and so coldly terrifying. And he was enjoying playing with her like she was a damned mouse.
But what was he going to do to her? She tried to ignore the press of his body against hers.
TEN
Acylias lifted her against him, leaving her scrap of an undergarment just because he wanted to. The ice blue silk had surprised him. It was so feminine and impractical. It hinted at a spirit held within—a spirit not evident on the outside. He so wanted to play with her…
He dumped her unceremoniously in the tub. Water splashed onto the stone floor, but he ignored it. All of his focus was on the beautiful woman revealed beneath the female’s old clothes.
At first he’d thought her a bit more than passable, for a half-human half-Nellana Witch. But naked? She was damned beautiful with high firm breasts, the thin build typical of the Nellana, and pale skin. The dark hair had hints of red, and wild curls. The eyes were the purest green—eyes that reminded him of someone.
She sputtered at him and tried to duck beneath the water to escape his staring. He smirked. Now that she was almost clean, he would do tons of staring at her. Whoever had molded this female had achieved physical perfection.
Women like her had always drawn his attention—and hopefully always would. Even though she had human blood, his body was stirring and demanding he jump in the tub with her.
That would have to wait.
Perhaps after he found out who she was exactly—and figured out what in the Three Hells he was supposed to do with her. Now that he had found her.
Besides the obvious, that was. “Your name?”
“Teagan.”
“And the rest of it. Your family name?”
“Taniss.”
He hadn’t expected that. He had met a few Tanisses recently. How could he not? The human family of Taniss were everywhere in his world lately. At least half a dozen of the females had found their way into the other worlds, mostly as beloved mates. The Dardaptoans had relocated to his home of Levia, or the demon world Relaklonos. And there had been too damned many Tanisses in those groups.
This female creature definitely had the look of those other females. Tall, willowy, green-eyed. Beautiful. There were even a few that he’d seen with the same wild curls this one sported. Yes, she was a Taniss. Of that, he had no doubt. “I see. So why were you not with the other Tanisses?”
Confusion. The greatest emotion in her eyes was confusion. It had him pausing for a moment. “What other Tanisses?”
He’d heard the story of how the old bastard Taniss had continued fathering children long after he had grandchildren with his legal wife. No one knew how many—but seven had been found in the last six months, for a total of eight.
He’d met the first. She was a self-appointed nursemaid to his cousin’s infants. And a very strong, very powerful alpha of his brother’s wolf Kind. This girl looked very much like her, though the wolf’s curls were blonde.
Taniss was human. His offspring most definitely were not. And the scum had deliberately made them that way. “So you’re one of the bastards, then?”
“I think that’s more a sign of character than birth, isn’t it?” She held her head high, and he didn’t miss the air of wounded pride about her. Even soaked. Something—someone—had hurt his little witchling. He would find them and them as soon as he finished with her. “If you’re asking if I know who or where my parents are, then the answer is no. I spent the first six years in a group home. Then foster. Is that enough prying for you?”
He wrapped his hands around her shoulders and pushed her beneath the water for a moment. He enjoyed the Three Hells out of dumping liquid soap all over her and lathering her exactly as he wanted. If his hands lingered on her breasts and other sweet places, no one could blame him. He was the god of retribution, after all. And she owed him. Best start with the witchling as he meant to go on. But nothing he did would ever hurt her. “No one talks to me with as little respect as you’ve shown. I am a god, you know?”
— — —
So she’d heard. Teagan didn’t understand what that truly meant, or even half of what he was talking about. But he didn’t have to keep treating her like she was the bug and he the rolled up newspaper. Still…he was her only source of information, and access to her children. “Get your hands off of me.”
“No. I do not want to. I am finding the act of bathing you rather enjoyable. You should be thrilled at the honor. Besides, my darling Witchling—you offended me with your filth. Do you know what I am?”
“Let me guess…a god of some sort. I have heard that mentioned.”
She thought she saw a smirk on his arrogant face, but the expression was gone too quick.
“A god…of retribution.” He dumped water over her head. Teagan sputtered and wiped at her eyes. “And nightmares. You truly wish to challenge me?” He leaned in after he spoke. Close enough she could feel his breath against her cheek. His eyes were trained on the soap over her breasts. “That can prove entertaining.”
She wanted to pull away, to squirm—something besides sit there in the water helplessly waiting for him to decide what to do with her. While he bathed her like a recalcitrant toddler. “Give me a towel.”
“Is that any way to talk to me?”
“Let me out, now? Is that better?” She was taking a risk, wasn’t she? “I need to find my children. They must be terrified.”
“Your foundlings are well cared for with my servants. Probably being bathed a
nd fed, and comforted by my people. It’s you I would be concerned with. Tell me, how did you end up with so many? You have birthed none from your body.” He trailed a burning hand down her spine. Teagan tried not to shiver.
How did he know that? “They were abandoned or lost and found their way to me. I am their mother, the only one that has ever cared for most of them. They need me.”
“Yet you are Nellana and they are all Kinds. Why were you not evacuated when the time came?” He scooped her out of the water, and she felt his hot, almost completely naked skin pressed against hers. Her body heated with longings she’d almost forgotten had existed.
She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. And she couldn’t think while he held her aloft. “Can you please put me down? I think we can work something out, right? I mean…if you’re a god, I didn’t truly hurt you, did I? And you did take my children and me from our home. I was frightened. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
He stared at her from eyes that totally freaked her out. “I rescued you. The Zar demon would have eaten you alive.”
Then he dropped her. Completely naked. In the middle of a rug that was probably older than the damned moon. He stepped over her legs and headed to a small table. He pulled a glass and a crystal pitcher from its surface. Teagan scrambled to her feet, looking for something to cover herself. She settled for a thin blanket—which was better than nothing.
“It counts for naught. If I wasn’t in such a magnanimous mood, I would see you’re flogged for such an attack.” Why did she have a feeling he was still playing with her?
Was he serious? “How long do you plan to keep me here?”
“I am not keeping you anywhere. I saved your life, girl. Doesn’t that count for something?” He sipped from his glass and continued to study her. Teagan held her head high.
He may be some sort of weird deity, but she didn’t have to cower—or beg—before him.
And then she remembered the nine children waiting for her somewhere that he had them, and she knew there wasn’t a damned thing she wouldn’t do to find them again.
If that meant begging, then so be it. “Where are my children, please?”
“You are becoming tedious. I thought you would prove to be more interesting. One doesn’t usually challenge a god, you know?” He tugged on the blanket.
“I’m not here to stroke your ego. I’m not certain why I am here at all.” A thought occurred to her, one that she hadn’t had time to think about before. “What was that thing that tried to follow us here?” Large, fast, ark green and scaled—she’d never forget it. Or how its claw had looked six inches from her baby Jacob’s head.
“Finally remembered that thing? I believe it was a Zar demon from the fifth realm. They are insatiable when they get the scent of an unmarried female of any Kind. I believe he was after you and those females you have with you. For some, they are of age.”
“I see.” She didn’t; but she doubted she would ever forget the sight of the big nasty beast clawing at the back of the travel trailer. Would she always hear the sound of its talons sinking into the roof of her van, so close to her children’s heads?
This creature had stopped that monster. He’d ripped it in two. Saved them all. What was she supposed to think of that?
He’d saved them, and then he’d taken them. And then he’d given her a bath. Looked at her and touched her.
“Where exactly are we?”
“Levia. Home of the gods. And lately of the displaced Nellana and Lothon Druids, Dardaptoans, and even some damned wolves like those girls of yours. Did I mention the god of the Lupoiux is my idiot younger brother?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never heard of Levia, or Nellana, or Dardaptoans, either. Or Lupines.”
“Lupoiux. The younger line of Lupoi. Humans call them werewolves. And isn’t it strange, then, that you would be a Nellana, isn’t it? And a Taniss.”
“Why does my last name matter?” She’d never learned where her last name had come from. She thought it may have been her father’s, but she hadn’t had her mother around long enough to ask. The group home she’d lived in from the time she’d been an infant until the age of six hadn’t told her anything, either. After that, she’d been bounced from foster to foster home.
No one had wanted a child that was so obviously different.
By the time she was thirteen she was on her own completely and hadn’t ever taken the time to go back in the past to find out where she came from.
“You don’t know the story, then? Once upon a time in a not so distant past, a human monster was born or made or hatched. I’m not sure of that detail, little Taniss Witch.” He put the glass back on the table then stalked over to her. He pulled her off the floor. Teagan had less than a second to get her feet beneath her—and grab the blanket before he saw everything again. “His name was Leo Taniss. He turns into a real bastard, killing thousands of innocent creatures, including Lupoiux and Dardaptoan—and Nellana.”
If what he said was the truth, it sickened her. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I’m getting there. Taniss didn’t just father children with his wife—he took prisoners of those thousands. Some of them… There are suspected to be dozens of his spawn out there. Eight have been found so far. You, I suspect, will be the ninth.”
— — —
He was enjoying the play of emotions across her beautiful face. She hadn’t liked hearing that her sire had been a cold, merciless killer, had she?
But then again, who would? He stepped closer and put a hand around her neck. She didn’t back away though he could sense she wanted to. Her skin was still wet, and she looked delicious. He leaned down and nipped her collarbone lightly
This girl, this little Witchling, was far more courageous than he suspected she even knew. Courageous, beautiful, intelligent.
He found her exceptionally intriguing. It would take him little to get her in his bed.
Did he want that?
Where was the challenge? The excitement? When was the last time a female had resisted him?
He did not remember. “Do you want to hear more? Perhaps how he kept a Nellana female for years, bringing children from her.”
She paled, and for a moment remorse hit him. Acylias held a hand out to her. He pushed the curling hair out of her eyes. “Perhaps you are one of those children? They have yet to be all recovered. There is a brother that I know of. They found him last month—but he is mostly feral wolf at this point.”
“I don’t have a brother. I have my children. And they need me.”
“They are fed, have beds to sleep in, and I have assigned them two servants. Surely they can be without their mother for a mere few hours…while we talk?”
She looked at him out of those distinctive green eyes. Nellana eyes—every Nellana Witch had eyes shaped just like that, eyes they’d inherited from the goddess that created and led them still. “Is that all you want? Talk?”
He smiled at her, amused. “What else could I possibly want from you?”
“I have no idea. Can I have some clothes, please? Or do you plan on keeping me naked?”
ELEVEN
She should not have said that.
Probably not the smartest question. When he looked at her just like that Teagan knew exactly what it was the god or demon or creature or beast—whatever he actually was—wanted from her. The question was whether she’d get the chance to say no or would he just take it. Why did a god want her?
She shifted closer to the door. She wasn’t certain where she’d run if she made it through the exit, but she had to try. Teagan couldn’t stay there naked with a god.
He turned away again. She bolted. Teagan wrapped her hand around the knob.
She managed to swing the heavy wood open, but before she could slip through he was on her. Hard male hands wrapped around her waist and he hauled her against his chest. He turned her. The blanket fell.
The door shut behind her, and then
he was leaning in to her. “I told you before. Don’t ever run from me. I enjoy catching my pretty far too much.”
“You can’t keep me here against my will.” And stark naked. Let’s not forget the naked.
“Of course I can. Don’t you remember the myths of so many gods? We keep women hostage all the time. Sometimes for years…Especially the particularly interesting ones. I find you extremely interesting.”
He leaned closer still. She didn’t think it was possible, but he managed somehow. His face was an inch from hers.
“Let me go.”
“Really? Is that what you want?”
Before she could answer he leaned in completely. His lips brushed hers. Fire shot through her.
She wanted to fight, to pull away from him. At least, a part of her did. The other part wanted to cling to him. To sink into the strength surrounding her and the heat and just know that he held her and she was absolutely safe. Wanted.
To know that she meant everything to him—even if for only the moments that they were touching. She leaned in to him, fighting the urge to touch.
The heat between them grew, until her palms burned where they rested against the skin of his shoulders. Was he burning? Or was it just her imagination?
Her breasts pushed against his chest, and the medallion around his neck burned into her skin.
Everything about him burned.
He pulled back, and she felt his smile against her lips. It took her a moment to breathe again. “That’s what you want? Your body is telling me a different story.”
Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic Page 31
