Sadistic Master Bundle (BDSM Billionaire Erotic Romance)

by Dalia Daudelin

  He kept following the map in his head. Up, jogging south a little way. There was, according to the map, a little cliff that blocked you off if you tried to go up any further, anywhere but there. Only fifteen feet, but too tall to climb unless you were on foot. It was nice to know, since he wouldn't have seen it until he'd already wasted too much time. The efficient route came from knowing the mountain, or having the map. Or both.

  He turned southward. As he did, he got a better view of the camp, a few hundred yards off. A tent still standing, no fire. One horse. Perhaps it wasn't the camp he was looking for. Perhaps this Martin Littlefeather had rode off without her, or perhaps she without him.

  There were hoof-marks in the dirt, though. Fresher. Maybe half an hour ahead. If she had rode off, then he would lose her. If Martin had, then he was leaving her be. Neither was ideal, not in these conditions. Not with this wind.

  Ash shivered again. He pulled his coat tighter and started to follow the tracks. The coat wasn't going to help this kind of cold, but he couldn't help himself, either. He knew better than to hope that the coat was going to keep an unnatural chill at bay, but he was still human.

  As he closed in on the pass, he could see a woman riding up a ridge. She was side-saddle and looked as if she might fall off the damn horse at any minute. When she saw him, her eyes went wide, and she whipped the reins. The horse picked up the pace.

  He couldn't get a good look at her from this distance, but there wasn't much doubt who it was. It was too much of a coincidence to believe that some other woman was fool enough to come out here, unaccompanied, to head up the mountain.

  He kicked the horse into moving faster. It didn't complain, and Ashton liked that. Just did what he asked. He followed behind. The chase wasn't going to last long, but he couldn't let himself hurry too much, either. It was damned dangerous to be going up the mountain at these speeds, and whatever Cora Little hoped to get out of their little race, he didn't intend to die on this mountain.

  He could see now, the ridge was more like a path through the rough part of the mountain. The cold was getting to be more severe, too. Not just from the wind, but from the March air at this height. Some of the snow from the last season still hadn't melted quite yet, barely hanging on in the branches of tall, thick pines too high up to justify logging.

  Ashton rode the winding path, getting only occasional glimpses of Cora. But they were longer each time. He was getting closer. Twenty minutes behind, perhaps. Then fifteen. Then ten. The path opened up into a broad, flat area. He could see a good way up the mountain, now, and when he turned back the other way, Salt Lake City was barely bigger than its spot on the map.

  Ashton sucked in a breath of air and pressed the flanks of his horse, a gentle reminder to hurry it up. Cora was in sight, now, far off on the horizon. Her horse seemed, now, to have decided to ignore her whipping the reins.

  Naturally, she was doing it repeatedly, as if it might not have noticed the first time. He rode the girl down easily, then.

  "You alright, miss?"

  "Leave me be, mister." Cora's voice was surly, but Ashton could hear something under it that he liked. Something vaguely attractive about it. He put the thought out of his head. Same as he put the thought of her pretty face out of his head.

  Her clothes were a little too nice for the road he was on, but then he couldn't criticize a woman for having nice clothes. After all, he had spent more than a few paychecks on fashion himself. Looking back, was it worth it?

  He didn't need to ask. It had been, of course. The price of looking good, yet being practical. He had written it off a long time ago, and he wasn't about to re-evaluate. It didn't mean that he didn't notice, though. He couldn't afford to sacrifice practicality, not in his line of work. She had. she probably hadn't even realized she had done it.

  "I'm sorry. I can't do that. I've got to take you down the mountain. It ain't safe up here."

  Ash expected an argument. She looked like the argumentative type. She turned to him, afraid. "I—have to."

  "You have to? I can take you down, safe as can be. You need to go up the mountain, at least do it safe-like."

  She looked at him. "I know what I'm doing."

  "Obviously," he agreed. "But I'm just worried that you might get into trouble out here. There's more than wolves up here, and this wind is making me nervous."

  She gave him that same scared look. Like she was trying to deny that she was frightened, but couldn't quite make it stick.

  "Is it something to be worried about?"

  Ash cocked his head. "I figure so."

  "Are you sure? Mr. Littlefeather—my guide, I mean—he said it was nothing to worry about."

  "Where's he now?"

  "He… died."

  "So you agree with me?"

  The wind picked up and carried off what she said. He didn't like this wind. Not one bit. Not one tiny bit. He relied on it to carry the sound of his voice to her.

  "Follow me, we need to get out of this wind before something turns bad. We'll talk then."

  Ash recalled the map in his head. There were marks all up and down the mountain, covering most of the area. Every little flat spot had one, and all he had to do was remember where this one was.

  A little ways west, against a rock wall. If he didn't miss his guess, they were shelter, and that was what they needed now.

  Ash took hold of her reins without asking and headed both of the horses that direction. It was only a quarter-mile, but he didn't want to be in this wind one second longer than they had to.

  Six

  The shelter here was a bit more complete, she thought. More like a proper shelter. She wondered to herself why Martin hadn't chosen it. It gave almost complete shelter from the wind, after all.

  As they crossed in, the man who had come to get her reached into a bag and pulled out a little piece of wood. She could see something carved into it, but it was only a few inches high and perhaps an inch across, and the scratches were too small to read.

  Then he pulled out a hammer and pitons, and with a hard smack he had the toggle pinned to the wall. Then he did the same on the other side.

  "What are you doing? What are those?"

  Once that was done, Cora hoped the mystery man might explain himself. Or at least, tell her who he was, and how he had known to find her. He was good-looking, now that she had a good look at him. His clothes were nice, and reminded him of Arthur's in how well they fit.

  It was the only thing about the man that reminded her of her brother. He was built like a man whose body only contained the bare essentials, but made up for the difference by making the parts that were there better.

  Defined cheeks, broad shoulders, narrow waist. He undid a button on his shirt, but he was moving too fast to be stripping. Then he pulled out a book of matches, struck one, and used it to light a candle. It was only then that she noticed the gun on his hip, as he pulled it loose.

  The man stalked deeper into the cave, then disappeared around a corner, the only reminder of his presence the fading light of his candle from around the corner. When he came back, the gun was back in the holster on his leg.

  Cora reached into her own bag, feeling the comforting handle of her derringer. If he thought he was going to waylay her because she was some sort of defenseless girl, then he had another thing coming to him entirely.

  Cora looked at him expectantly and waited for an explanation. Finally he settled down and looked up at her.

  "Cora Little?"

  Cora had always liked to try to keep her expression neutral or happy. She prided herself on her ability to keep distaste off her face, and no one had ever told her that she looked angry. Well, now she felt frustrated enough to let him have a small taste of it.

  "And who, exactly, are you? Some stranger, coming here, telling me what I'm to do, and you refuse to even give your name?"

  "My name is Ashton Lowe. I'm a devil hunter, and your brother sent me to look after you."

  She ignored the job description. Wh
atever he really did, it was not hunting Devils. They were only children's stories, after all. "Arthur did?"

  "Big guy?" Ashton made a shape with his hands that was not flattering to her brother, but didn't miss the mark.

  "That's him. I told him I would be alright. Why must he interfere?"

  "Don't be too hard on the man. He's worried about you, and from what I saw, he's right to be. Running off alone like that? You should have gone straight back down the mountain."

  "I had a feeling it was only a little way more," Cora said. She had, and she couldn't shake it. Not even now. So she had taken the risk. She could see Ashton's lips purse. "What is it now?"

  "That's exactly how it always starts. It's just a little way more, then a little way more, and then you're lost. Don't you listen to any of the stories?"

  "Of course not. I'm not ten years old any more."

  Ashton looked at her with eyes she didn't like. The look was not respectful. But he was the first man to look at her that way in a long time, and she didn't want to admit that she liked it more than she should have.

  "Well, you better start listening to them. This isn't Detroit, Miss Little. You're in it now, and things aren't going to be pretty until we get you back east."

  "I'm not going back."

  He had a sour expression that Cora didn't like. She took it as a challenge, and if there was one thing that she couldn't stand in it was someone who was going to be a challenge. It was rude to fight a person, and she had never let herself knowingly be rude. Not if she knew better.

  For Ashton Lowe, she might have to make an exception on that rule. Of all the men she had ever known, he was the one most desperately in need of being challenged. Once she had shown him that she wasn't to be trifled with, then she could start to think about making amends for her rudeness, but not before.

  He shifted against the wall. "From the look of things, we're going to be stuck here for the night. Once that's done, we'll be making our way back down the mountain. If you're that insistent on going up the mountain, then we'll send a telegram out and wait for permission from your brother."

  "I'm a grown woman, and he won't be in charge of me."

  "He's the one paying my salary, so what he says goes."

  "Then I'll pay you. What did he offer?"

  "Fifteen thousand." She wasn't surprised that he would offer so much, but she didn't like it. That much money wasn't the sort of thing that came by easily, not even for her. After a moment he continued. "You got that kind of money?"

  She pursed her lips. "I don't like your tone."

  "I'm very sorry for that, ma'am."

  No manners, and he seemed to think that he could boss her around. As if she were a child. It made her angrier than it should have.

  "If you don't take me up the mountain, you'll never work again. Not in Detroit, or any other town. I know people."

  He looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

  "I'll say that you bundled me up and hit me to keep me quiet."

  "Your brother wouldn't press the matter in court."

  "No, but who would hire a woman-beater?"

  He thought about it. His expression darkened further. "Okay, then. If that's how we're playing it. Two days. We don't find your mother by then, we go back to Detroit." He took his hat off and stared out the cave, watching for something she couldn't say what. "And one more thing. Don't you ever threaten me again."

  The way he said it made a shiver shoot down her spine. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. What else was he planning to do to convince her that she'd better not do it again?

  She wasn't sure whether she wanted to avoid it, or make him do it to find out. Cora hated a challenge, and she hated people who made her fight with them. But Ashton Lowe was proving to be both, and she certainly didn't hate him. Not by a long shot.

  Seven

  Ashton woke up with the sun, and he was already regretting taking the job by the time he stood up and lit his candle. Dark places like this are exactly the sorts of places that Devils get themselves stuck in. But no signs of any violence around. Nothing like that at all, really. Still, even with the seals on the entrance, it was better to check again to make sure.

  They needed a physical presence, nearby at least. The strongest might have been able to manage a mile's distance, carrying their intentions on the wind and the dust. The others had to make do with less. The average Devil, far as he could tell, couldn't go more than twenty feet. The weakest, ten.

  But only a fool would plan explicitly to face the weakest Devils out here in the wild west. They called it that for plenty of reasons. The law had been having trouble keeping things in order for most of it, and as far as Ash knew they still hadn't quite gotten a handle on it. Bank robberies, gunfights… not the sort of place he wanted to live.

  But it was still untamed, as well. Still had a Devil problem, even with minor Devils. They had no real way of stopping the things. Wild, indeed. The way they would stop them was the same way that they had done it before, the same way that they would do it again in the future.

  Men like Ashton would come out, and when problems came up, those problems would get shot down. Easy, and one fewer Devil to worry about. The issue was when you got in over your head, and something far bigger than you were prepared to deal with fought back. One of the strong ones, the ones that can put you down from a mile out without you doing more than seeing a little apparition.

  There was no reason to figure that there was anything like that on this mountain, though. This close to the city? Devils could look like damn near anything. Could be inside a person, if they managed to talk 'em into it. But the risk of being caught was just too high. Something that powerful wouldn't want to take the risk. Once word got out one of the tough ones was out, that would be about the end of the line. Then folks would get themselves riled up, they'd start leaving their houses.

  Not Ashton, though. He would stay behind. Let the others go out and claim their victory. He had seen one of them, once. Saw the life go right out of King Peters' eyes, and that was not a sight he wanted to see again. The man had been standing right there in front of him one moment, and the next there was just a body.

  That was what fighting Devils was like, and that was what Ash accepted would happen to him, one day. But he wanted to die staring the son of a bitch that killed him down. Wanted to know he would be able to take the thing with him. They all did. Samson, Hewitt, Rock and Braden. All the boys that King Peters had taken in had been there, and it was only a matter of time. That was the only thing that was going to get Ashton out to a fight like that.

  A kill at a mile, maybe more. Peters was the kind of hunter that folks talked about for years, maybe decades. If the man had been around in the days of ancient Greece he'd be right there aside Jason, Odysseus or Achilles. A legend of a man, and right on the tail end of that legend he brought on five boys who had no place else to go.

  That wasn't the kind of guy who let a bloodsucker, even an old one, take him down without a fight. Which meant that it was far enough out that there was nothing to be done but to take it, and they had spent the last five years all looking for the signs.

  But whatever had done it, it was gone now. No sign anywhere, and no mention.

  Ashton kept his hand on his gun and checked the signs. No foul smells, no flickering or flaring in the candle. No cold spots, no warm spots. Far as he could tell this cave was empty. Not in any sort of use at all. The test wasn't perfect, but it was hard to hide some sign of the thing being in the area.

  If it was powerful, there would be signs, even if the thing were laying low. So if he missed something with the quick test, it would be something that couldn't kill him in the night. That was good enough for him, and if it was stupid enough to go for the girl while a hunter lay three feet away, then it would learn why the bigger ones didn't do that.

  Then came checking the seals. He reached out a finger to touch one. Felt the painful electric shock of energy as he tapped it. It swung a second before getting caught up
by the rough texture of the cave wall.

  Ash turned back. Cora was getting up. That was good, he needed to talk to her. The wind was making him nervous. No way was it a natural wind, and that meant Devil-sign. They just had to hope that it left them alone. They were only two, and neither of them was looking for trouble. Not with the kind of range that wind was blowing from.

  She looked up at him, her eyes still bleary.

  "Come here," she said softly. He came close, crouching down to hear what she had to say. Then she pulled him in and kissed him hard.

  He realized what was happening after the shock wore off. There it was. A smell. Not foul, but certainly not hers. Like a mixture of fruit and roses. She had smelled pretty, from what he could gather. But this was too strong, and it went straight to his head.

  This was the work of a Devil. Ash tried to run through in his head, letting her pull him down beside her.

  Something was worming its way into her head. The wards were still up, and they were still working. Devils could work their magic straight through solid earth, but not more than a foot of it. More like a few inches for most of them, if they wanted to affect anything more than something sat right on top of them.

  The way she was going, the thing in her head was feeding on her sexual impulses. He blushed as he followed that thought to the end. Fertility Devils couldn't put the thoughts into someone's head, but it could make it into an itch so powerful it had to be scratched.

  She could ignore it. Once he killed the Devil, it would start to go away. But since it couldn't reach through the wards, then it had been inside, and too weak to kick off clear sign until it was working. That meant it was buried somewhere, and it would take minutes to find. Then another hour or more to really be back in her right mind.

  It would hurt like a son of a bitch, and he wasn't sure he could let that happen.

  Cora could feel something wrong, but she didn't care. There were more important things on her mind. A man who was nothing like the others she had known, a man who reminded her that she wasn't just rich—she was a woman. And he was right there, next to her. She was kissing him. He tasted good, his lips felt good against hers. She liked that. Wanted it.