Before I knew it, I was moving my own hips and dancing right along with everyone else on the dance floor. It was probably the first time since entering the theater that I had even noticed there was anyone else besides the dancers on the various stages.
Soon I was no longer dancing alone. Someone had come up behind me, matching me move for move until before long I was following his lead. I was so caught up in the music that I didn’t even open my eyelids as he turned me to face him. For some reason, when I did pry open my eyes, instead of looking at his face, my gaze seemed to zero in on the pulse beating at his neck, my gums itching even more now than they had been earlier. Just as I was about to give in to impulse and allow my tongue to play with that strong, beating pulse, I was being spun away by a new dance partner to a whole new beat.
Before I had a chance to so much as protest, my new partner spun me in to his body and claimed my lips. Lips I had just tasted not too long ago that evening, only this time they were already fully formed from the very beginning of the kiss. The connection this time around was even stronger than our initial kiss. Gone were the tattered rags, replaced by an elegant gossamer silk blouse that slid beneath my palms and seemed to enhance the muscles underneath. Somewhere within the kiss, he must have nicked his tongue with a fang, because I was tasting not just him, but also a hint of copper that was both tangy and sweet. Instead of repelling me, that taste only seemed to draw me in all the more, and I ended up sucking on his tongue even harder. Once again we were completely surrounded by others, and again it felt as though no one else was there but the two of us.
So caught up were we that we didn’t even notice the chaos breaking out all around us until a literal banshee screamed for us to watch out, that blood-curdling screech something that’s pretty impossible to ignore. Which was a good thing, considering that we were standing directly underneath one of the crystal cages, a cage that was no longer attached to the ceiling.
Neither of us panicked, and as if mirroring each other without a word passing between our lips, we spun out of the way immediately, reaching back to grab the cage as it fell, gently setting it down on the floor.
“Merci tres beaucoup.”
“Thank you so, so much.”
Their words of gratitude just floated around my head as I stared at my dance partner, wondering not only what had just happened, but how in Hel’s name I’d had the strength to help lower that cage, occupants and all, without a strain or so much as breaking a sweat.
“What the fuck just happened?” I heard myself saying just as the ground began to shake, for what must not have been the first time.
“Looks as though we are experiencing an earthquake, my dear one.”
If I’d had time, I’d probably have been melting at truly hearing his voice for the first time. During his argument with Darvyn, I’d been so pissed at being talked about that I’d barely even registered it. He had a deep, husky, and unmistakably masculine timbre with a slight British accent that could make a woman melt at the very sound of it, or at the very least make her panties very wet. While usually I hate British accents, since they so often make the user sound like an asshole or know-it-all even if they’re as dumb as shit, he did much more than just make it work.
“Not exactly what I was referring to, but care to explain how it is we’re having an earthquake when we’re not even on Earth?”
“Technically, we are, just in another plane of existence.”
I gave him the not-so-polite look that comment deserved. “Smart-ass.”
“But as I stated, it only looks as though it is an earthquake. Truly, the only time this happens is either when a new rift has been made between worlds, or some very nasty magic has just been used. Neither bodes well, seeing as whatever just happened had to have been not too far from our vicinity. Not with all the chaos surrounding us now.”
And chaos was the most apt word to describe the scene before us. Gone was the atmosphere of sexual serenity, replaced by utter confusion, shock, and in some cases pure terror. Debris falling from the ceiling, glass shattering within the vicinity of the bar—the bar I’d never even had a chance to partake of, much less appreciate. Again, as though we had choreographed our every move, we went to catch the cages as they fell from above, others doing the same, just not as gracefully.
The cage with the ménage a trois I had been admiring came plummeting down, and no one was able to make it there in time. The male and female managed to shield their lover in the center, but not without causing deadly damage to themselves in the process.
Both their bodies were filled with crystal shards protruding from every major artery. The three of them lay in a pool of blood. When others began moving the bodies carefully in order to get to the female who had survived, the devastated siren let out a scream so piercing you would have thought she were part banshee as they tried to disentangle her from her departed lovers’ limbs.
A female shifter growled in her face, “Don’t you dare allow their sacrifice to be made in vain. They loved you enough to die. Now, you love them enough to live. Now get up.” It wasn’t until she ended the statement in a fierce snarl that the siren allowed herself to be pulled away from what everyone could see were two vital pieces of her heart.
Tears flowed freely down the siren’s face from her hollowed eyes. Her pain was so palpable, I could feel it within myself. I looked around, seeing other couples huddling together, the same hurt looks in others’ eyes. I could immediately tell many were feeling the same.
Her beauty remained with her, regardless of how hard she cried and the anguish that she was in. Even her lovers remained beautiful in death, the blood coating them making for a macabre display to be sure, but somehow not distracting nor taking away from their sheer magnificence. It was almost as though they were an artistic scene spread out for all to see. Of course, they were far from that. And when that poor siren remembered this day in the centuries to come, that was definitely not how she would view what must be one of the most horrible days of her life.
As the chaos and the tremors began to ebb, all around people began helping the fallen. Gone was the sexual, carefree atmosphere. In its place was anything but; sorrow, pain, horror and devastation took its place. Flashing people in and out, getting them out from underneath trapped beams and fallen debris. Some just too devastated to do so on their own. Too shaken up, or just plain in shock from all the various disasters that had taken place in a matter of moments but for them had felt like a minor eternity. Others began helping with the clean-up, some not even using magic to do so, just needing to keep busy to occupy their minds with something other than what they had just lost. Most of the beings in Underlayes are strong, and many damn near indestructible, but none are completely immortal, and not all things can be healed. Some beings had been decapitated, while others just had too many damaged arteries to repair.
My newfound dance partner and I separated to help with the cleanup. Without a word between us, we went around from one person to the next seeing how best we could possibly help, even if just to allow someone to use us as a handkerchief. We somehow remained within each other’s eyesight the entire time, which should have been creepy as all hell, but wasn’t.
Finally, when things were in some semblance of order, it seemed as though we were about to have a chance to actually talk. With our lips instead of glances, and with words instead of our tongues. That was until I made a foolish mistake and revealed myself for who I was.
In all the commotion, the magical barriers must have come down at the doors, because a group of teens came in, trying to see the inside the infamous theater. I peered at one out of the corner of my eye. He was about to slide on some ice on the bar. Normally that wouldn’t even be a problem; he could fall on his ass and we could all have a good laugh at his dumb ass for being there in the first place knowing full well he had no business doing so. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it weren’t for the fact that with his trajectory, he would nine times out of ten fall face-first into way too
many shards of crystal from the fallen cage. At his age, no way would he be able to flash himself out of the way in time, nor be able to heal himself of that many injuries.
I couldn’t very well just watch him pretty much get himself killed just for being a curious teen, no matter how brainless his actions. In a split-second decision, I drew on my fire within, just enough to create steam and heat, and directed it towards the ice before his foot could land in it. I none too gently shoved him out of the way with it as well. The problem? In doing so, my hair rose as well, revealing two of my very identifying birthmarks of two flames, one at the nape of my neck, the other above my right temple.
Immediately, every witch in the vicinity dropped to one knee to genuflect before me, all the other factions bowing their heads in respect.
“There goes my night,” I mumbled under my breath, knowing that at least one of them would realize I should not be there and notify dear old Dad. This was the last place he had expected us to come on our date; I’m pretty sure he thought we were having a nice, quiet dinner somewhere. If Mr. Conservative knew where we actually were, he wouldn’t be too pleased about it.
Just as I had that thought, my new whatever started heading my way, then from out of nowhere came Bran. He grabbed my arm and pulled me flush against him.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
6
Strange Encounters
“What the fuck?” I said to Bran as I shoved him off me after he flashed us to who knew where. Though it was sort of a loaded question. One, where did he get off flashing me anywhere without so much as asking me first? Two, where had he even friggin’ been? Three, where were we? And last but not least, why did he seem so different?
Seeing the confusion playing across my face, he laughed. I mean, the fool straight up laughed at me like I was the one who’d lost my ever-loving mind. “You look so cute when you make that face, Princess, but don’t hold it too long, or it just might get stuck like that. Ha!”
I just looked at him. What had happened to the blubbering idiot who’d been stuttering every other word when he first picked me up? His hair was even different—well, it was no longer standing up on top of his head. His clothes, while not different, hung off him differently. There were just a ton of similarities yet differences in him now; little things that made him seem like a whole new person altogether.
“First of all, where the hell have you been? ’Cause that has to have been the longest bathroom break I have ever witnessed. Two…well two is too hard for me to even put into words, so let’s just focus on number one. Then you can tell me where the heck you just brought me to.”
“Let’s just say I had to freshen up to make myself more presentable for you. Just needed to give myself a sort of…confidence builder,” he said with a devilish smirk. “As for where we are? Welcome to my home, Princess. This is the living quarters of my bedroom suite.”
A darkly gorgeous room to be sure, but I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from it. A large, plush, soft black satin roundabout sofa with matching chairs. Blood-red walls with silver sconces hanging down. Extremely large fireplace that otherwise would have been romantic, but just seemed all the more sinister for its beauty. What was kind of odd to me was the fact that there was no other furniture. Granted, the sofa itself was long enough to seat at least six. But there were no tables, no other chairs, the only light being what came off the flames in the fireplace. Not even the candles were lit, which was kind of odd for a witch. No, we don’t keep them lit at all times, but as nervous as he’d been earlier that evening, one would have thought he’d have at least a lavender candle lit right now.
“Please, relax, take a seat. Let us talk and get to…know one another. Care for something to drink? You must be parched after the events that just took place. Be right back.” Before I had a chance to say so much as a yes or no, he was off again.
Soon as I sat down, he was indeed right back, this time with two gorgeous crystal glasses in his hands. Handing me one, he sat down with the other, then turned to face me. “How about a toast? To our future and to our beginning, tonight.”
We clinked our glasses, and I admit, the smell was delectable.
“Go ahead, don’t be shy, drink up. I am more than sure you will enjoy it.”
I think I liked him better when he was a stuttering idiot. He was right, though. I put the glass to my lips, and I was damn near in love from the very first sip. It was chilled just perfectly so, almost like a slushy mix, but not. It wasn’t overly thick, but it also wasn’t as thin as, say, a juice either. Slightly bubbly, but nothing as strong as pop. More subtle than that, almost like a champagne. It was like pure ambrosia, and before I knew it the entire glass was gone.
Then the glass seemed to just continue to fill itself up of its own accord. The more I drank, the more relaxed I became, and the more we talked and laughed and had the time of our lives. But I don’t even know what we were truly talking about. It was just fun. I don’t know. It was almost like a drunken feeling, as though I were getting intoxicated yet not. I was slightly lightheaded, but not overwhelmingly so. Before long it began to feel as though I were in a dream; not even really there, but on the outside looking in at myself, yet at the same time experiencing everything. As though part of me were astral projecting, while the other part just continued as though nothing were amiss.
Then I did something truly out of character. I leaned towards Bran. “You missed a drop,” I said in a husky voice that didn’t even sound like my own. Taking my middle finger, I swiped a drop of the drink from the corner of his mouth. Instead of placing it to my own lips, I placed it on his until he opened his lips and took my finger into his mouth, suckling it. As I slid my now very wet finger out of his mouth, I scooted even closer to him. “No, I don’t think I quite got all of it.”
Next thing I knew, I was straddling him, and kissing him as though my very life depended on it. It wasn’t even a romantic kiss, just one of sheer desperation and hunger. Before long, we were ripping each other’s clothes off.
As though in a deep fog, I heard Bran whispering, “Oh, I think she’s quite ready now.”
I thought I heard three slight thuds as soon as those words left his lips. But I was way past the point of caring. We continued kissing, our hands all over each other. At some point we must have managed to get completely undressed, because he put his hands on either side of my bare hips, setting my core right on top of his very hard erection. I lowered myself in one smooth move, then I felt someone behind me, and I was past caring. I was only feeling, my mind in a fog, some part of me screaming that something was definitely not right, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
The male behind me must have been on his knees, not even giving me a chance to see what his face looked like. As Bran and I got into that perfect rhythm with each other, the newcomer moved my hair to the side and began kissing and licking at my neck, his hands finding my breasts and tweaking my nipples. As he trailed a finger down my back, I felt myself grow even wetter around Bran, almost to the point of squirting, but not quite, my entire body hot all over. Then he too was entering me, from behind. And while I had never had anyone enter that part of me before, it didn’t hurt, and not because he lacked in size—far from it. So suddenly I had two very enhanced males inside me, probing me, filling me.
Before long, the three of us ended up on the floor, the men having traded places. I was now straddling and riding this strange new male. Finally able to look into his eyes, I could see him for the incubus that he was, not that that stopped me; instead it just egged me on for more as Bran entered me from behind.
Then yet another male walked up to us. Once again, I had not seen this one’s face, just as I hadn’t with the other before him. He just came to kneel beside us, his well-endowed erection at full attention before my face. I grabbed him closer to me, taking all of him into my mouth.
Bran released inside me; I could feel his warm seed spilling from my ass. As he slid out, someone else slid in. As he ent
ered me, he grazed his fangs along my neck, then he struck. His canines slid into my skin with ease, feeling almost as good as the other part of his anatomy.
On and on it went for hours, the men trading positions, each of them making love to me in each orifice.
I heard a struggle in the near distance. Somehow, I managed to move my head to see what was going on, and I saw Grimm. He was being held down, made to watch the entire display, as someone forced him to drink the same concoction that I’d voluntarily drunk with abandon. I knew I should care. I knew I shouldn’t even be doing this; that not just something but so many things were morally wrong with this scenario. I just could not stop. It was as though two parts of my soul were conflicted; one was in complete and utter bliss, and was telling the part that was thinking of consequences and responsibilities to shut the fuck up.
I felt myself giving Grimm a come-hither look and licking my lips, and then a change came over him. Suddenly he was there, wrapping his hand around my throat and entering me brutally. But damn, did it feel good.
It continued for I don’t even know how long. It felt so good and so wrong all at the same time. I just couldn’t stop myself, and neither could Grimm.
Each of them on me, each of them inside me, each of them releasing their seed inside me…
Whatever semblance of me that was left at that moment pleaded with my Goddess, Dear Sekhmet, please make this stop.
7
Who’s Your Daddy?
Where the hell am I?
My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. I kept shaking my head, trying to wake myself up. But even that seemed to take too much effort. It felt like a friggin’ workout just to lift my eyelids partially open. Everything was a haze to me, and I could barely remember what had happened. How I had even gotten there. Though I kept having small flashes, I didn’t want to believe any of them to be true.
Witch Wars: The Underlayes, Book One Page 4
