by Marie Harte
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Engaging Gren
ISBN # 978-0-85715-016-5
©Copyright Marie Harte 2010
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright January 2010
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road
, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
Life in the Vrail
ENGAGING GREN
Marie Harte
Chapter One
“No.”
“But Gren, you haven’t heard—”
“No.” Gren shook his head. “Not yes, not maybe, but no.” Stretched out on a lounge chair by the side of the pool, the stubborn man sighed and closed his eyes, shutting out the rest of the world.
Sernal of Mardu clenched his jaw. Why had he expected the damned mercenary to hear him out? He glanced around at the tropical paradise surrounding them and grudgingly acknowledged Gren’s refusal. What could Sernal offer to compare with a few weeks in paradise?
The resort overlooked Aflera’s largest ocean, blushing under the noon sun. Not a cloud marred the sky, creating a scene of almost unreal perfection. Large, green leafed palms surrounded the resort, framing the ocean’s beauty. From Sernal’s vantage, he overlooked the lavender pool in front of him. Beyond the pool lay white sand so soft the grains felt like silk under one’s feet, and the pale rose-coloured ocean water teamed with finwhales, mraun fish, and a myriad of delectable marine food available on the resort’s high-priced, gourmet menu.
Sernal sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Can I at least buy you a drink?”
Gren eyed him suspiciously before nodding. They sat in silence before an extremely attractive woman joined them. Gren leant back in the lounger, sighing under the ministrations of his personal thraia, one of the resort’s legendary massage therapists.
As her many hands crept over Gren’s neck, shoulders and arms, Sernal repressed a wave of envy to have those gifted hands over his body. Native to the planet, the thraia had an innate skill for pleasure. With six hands and eight digits on each hand, they made a simple massage orgasmic. And the sex… He stared at the thraia’s sensual eyes half-closed in concentration. The sex was rumoured to be indescribably erotic.
“I’ll take the drink, Sernal, but nothing else.” Gren murmured something unintelligible to the thraia that had her giggling before she left. “Talk about wainu,” he said with a groan as he rolled his shoulders. “I’ve found utter peace without sex. I wouldn’t have believed it possible before now.”
Sernal waved down a server and ordered them two Aflera Ambrosias. As he watched the server leave, he wondered how best to reintroduce his needs to the wary mercenary.
If he hadn’t needed Gren’s particular skills so badly, he would have left the overtaxed man alone. But with so many women gone missing in so little time, he needed the legendary Thesha’s gifts, and the sooner the better. Thought to be mere myth, the Thesha race was in fact quite real. And like the stories of old, they could and did have power over all creatures feminine.
He’d often thought the race, who were in fact a distant cousin to his own kin, blessed. Who in his right mind didn’t want the power to understand and ultimately control the female mind—a mystery in itself?
Staring at Gren’s form clad in swim trousers, he subtly approved Gren’s musculature, earned from years of harsh discipline and training. Sernal’s gaze wandered to Gren’s only imperfection, a jagged scar that ran from his left hand up his forearm. Gren had never offered the story behind the scar, and Sernal knew it best not to pry.
Though friends, he instinctively sensed the danger surrounding the larger man. Gren had earned his reputation as a fierce warrior and tenacious adversary, one who had rarely been beaten.
Gren sighed. “Sernal, you’re steadily becoming a royal pain in my ass. The first time in three years I’m finally able to take a break, and I find you blocking my sun just hours after my arrival. What is it with you Mardu?”
“What can I say? It’s in our blood to be persistent.”
“I think you mean obnoxious.” Gren accepted the drink the server handed him. He took a long swallow and smiled, the action drawing the stares of several nearby women.
Sernal noticed and shook his head. “Can’t you turn it off?”
“You’re persistent, I’m desirable.” Somehow Gren uttered the words without sounding conceited. “What can I say? It’s hereditary.” He guzzled his Ambrosia and set the empty glass by his side.
Sernal stared at the glass, amazed Gren had imbibed the strong liquor so quickly. “I’d say your metabolism is nothing short of amazing too.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t know that. Alcohol doesn’t affect my kind the way it does others. We have a natural tolerance for fermented fruits. Certain drugs, however,” he paused, his expression darkening, “can be lethal.”
Sernal saw a golden opportunity and charged forward. “You know how it feels to be powerless all too well, don’t you?” It might not have been smart, but reminding Gren of his imprisonment years ago would have more of an impact than a simple entreaty for help. “Imagine helpless young women undergoing what you suffered. Except they don’t escape. No one rides in to their rescue.”
“I wasn’t rescued.” Gren clenched his teeth. “I was two seconds from killing that bitch Cari when you entered the scene, running late as usual.” He cursed under his breath. “I’m just not going to be rid of you until you tell me what’s on your mind, am I?”
Sernal drained the rest of his glass, feeling overly warm as he did so. Unlike the Thesha, the Mardu were susceptible to alcohol. “Nope. So you might as well hear me out.”
Gren stared at him for a moment before he stood abruptly, flexing his massive arms as he whipped a towel around his neck. “Fine then. Follow me.”
Sernal trailed him to the most expensive section of the resort. He followed Gren into a suite and whistled. “Being a mercenary must pay pretty well.”
A small water fountain greeted them when they entered. The room’s soothing hues of amber and pale green blended with the tropical environment directly outside. Through two open doors leading to a balcony, Sernal could clearly see a finwhale leaping in the air before it disappeared beneath the water. The wind blew, rustling the silken drapes framing the balcony doors, and the sweet smell of florantes teased the air.
He almost felt bad for what he was about to do to Gren.
“Spill it,” Gren ordered and wandered outside on the balcony.
“We have a total of fifteen missing women, all grabbed within the past month. All are from affluent families, and all from different provinces in Mard
u.”
Gren shrugged. “So tap system law. What do you need me for?”
“There’s something about these crimes that smacks of peacemaker corruption.”
Gren turned and narrowed his gaze. “How so?”
Finally, a spark of interest. Sernal prayed to Flor his luck would continue. “The culprits have kidnapped five of the women despite their own security. Eyewitness accounts paint our kidnappers as organised, controlled and possibly military.
“They cover all their bases a little too well. Neither Rafe nor myself has detected a trace of evidence at any of the crime scenes. We need you, Gren.”
The picture Sernal drew intrigued him on several levels. The idea of women being misused made him itch to rectify the problem. But it was the idea of peacemaker involvement, lawmen who—with the exception of Sernal and Rafe—went out of their way to make his life miserable, that made Gren’s mouth water.
Yet he desperately needed a break. While he stared longingly towards the ocean, his conscience warred with his fatigue. “You say they’ve only grabbed women?”
Sernal nodded. “All unusually beautiful and within child-bearing age.”
“You don’t think it’s another Ebrellion Ring?”
“We don’t think so. Secret System observation posts report normal Ebrellion activity outside System boundaries. No, these crimes point to an internal threat.”
“Any evidence to support that?”
Sernal frowned. “Yes and no. Let’s just say it’s not enough to prove without a doubt, not yet. I’ve got my suspicions and a clear direction to begin the hunt, one lead peacemaker in particular. These criminals have connections above my pay grade.”
Gren stared at him. “So you come to me asking for help.”
“You’ve got the perfect reputation for the job I need done. Your abilities with women will make getting information a cinch. And with your resources, you can easily plant one of my people undercover. Don’t worry. Rafe will be on hand to assist.”
Gren grimaced and saw Sernal’s patience thinning.
The lawman narrowed his eyes. “Gren, we’re talking about saving the lives of at least fifteen women.”
Gren shook his head as the wind whispered, stay. “No.” His principles tugged at him while the ocean beckoned a second glance. He stared at the rippling water, imagining himself floating without a care, rebuilding his strength and peace of mind. He would never admit it aloud, but his imprisonment two years ago had taken a toll on him from which he had yet to recover. His nonstop assignments hadn’t helped matters either.
“Look, you have resources far beyond mine. You have an entire planet of lawmen at your disposal, not to mention you’re the damned head of Peacemaker Central. Order your most trusted contacts to help you,” Gren tried.
“I’m not the head of ‘Peacemaker Central’, as you like to call it. And weren’t you listening when I told you we’ve got rogue peacemakers? They could be anyone, men and women I trust,” Sernal muttered with disgust and ran a hand through his hair. “You call me a pain in the ass? Hell,” he growled, “it’s taking what little control I have not to order you to assist us.”
Gren crossed his arms over his chest and locked gazes with Sernal. All the peace he’d felt under the thraia’s hands disappeared as the tension that had been building since Sernal stepped into the suite came to a head.
Sernal must have sensed the strain for he straightened, no longer at ease but now on edge, ready to spring into action if necessary. Gren had to hand it to the Mardu. He was a pain in the ass, but a dangerous pain in the ass.
Even so, Gren didn’t bow to anyone, not even his own Elders. “You can’t order me to do anything. But I’d like to see you try.” He hoped Sernal would lose his cool so he could legitimately toss him out of the room.
Suddenly, the door to the room flew open and a woman entered in a huff, followed closely by Sernal’s brother, Rafe.
“What the hell?” Gren’s anger grew as more unwanted guests intruded on his vacation.
The woman eyed Gren with disdain. “For Narok’s sake. Lead Sernal, you should just order him to assist us and be done with it. It’s not as if we don’t have enough to worry about without begging for this drun’s help.”
Gren had to blink at the vision standing before him. He gathered his focus, immediately wary at the strong effect she had on him. He subtly looked to Sernal, wondering if the beauty was part of some plot to snag him into helping. But Sernal didn’t look pleased at the interruption. He glared at his brother.
Rafe shrugged. “She distracted me and before I knew it, she was busting in.”
The woman snorted. “If you let a little thing like breasts distract you from your mission, you need remedial training.”
Rafe scowled at the icy beauty, but before he could say anything, Gren began to laugh. For the first time since he could remember, a woman responded to the Mardu brothers with scorn rather than passion. Priceless.
All eyes swung to him as he continued to chuckle. Rafe swore. Sernal closed his eyes and prayed aloud for patience. The woman, however, seethed with resentment. He could almost feel her animosity as she glowered at him.
“She does have a point, Rafe.” Gren grinned and fell into a plush, oversized chair. Though her attitude amused him, he decided to needle the beauty for her earlier insult. Drun, indeed. “But, honey, those breasts you’re carrying are enough to drive a man crazy. Even a ‘shit’ like me.”
The woman stiffened her spine and narrowed her eyes, like an angry she-wolf prepared to attack. The combination of long, white-blonde hair and unique violet eyes rimmed with grey drew him like a magnet. Her tempting body, long, lean and full of womanly curves, made him contemplate luring her for sex, something he hadn’t done in a long time. Women came to Gren of their own free will. He hadn’t needed to enthral a woman to his bed since Mara two years ago. And that had been for the sake of a mission.
Sernal spoke before the prickly woman could reply. “Gren, I’d like you to meet Temis Freya. She’s one of my top peacemakers. Rafe you already know.”
“A peacemaker?” Gren ignored Rafe to study Temis. “She looks more like a pleasurer, though her attitude needs work.”
The first words out of Temis’ mouth were obscene, yet impressive in their creativity.
Sernal shot her a sharp look that immediately stilled her clever if barbed tongue. “We’ve been working on her attitude. It seems we’ve still a long road ahead of us.”
Her glare subsided at his rebuke. Interesting.
“I’m sorry Temis interrupted us,” Sernal continued. “But she has a point. We’re running out of time, and we need your help. According to my sources, the women will be sold at an illegal slave auction in little more than a week’s time.”
Slave auction. He inwardly flinched. “Slavers are scum, but legal.”
“These guys aren’t. I can’t help what Colony6 allows. Their slave marts are sanctioned by the planet, so I can’t touch them. But this auction isn’t endorsed by anyone in their administration. If we catch and shut down the auction, I can arrest whoever’s behind it. To do that, I need your help.”
Gren glanced over his shoulder to the balcony. A raptor flew over the sea, snagging a mraun fish from the water. That reminded him he had yet to eat.
Then he wondered if the missing women were being fed. Were their captors abusing them while he lounged in his overpriced suite? And did Sernal really expect him to refuse to help when images of tortured women began appearing in his mind? The damned peacemaker knew a Thesha couldn’t abide harm done to an innocent. Damn him.
“You’re going to owe me big for this,” he growled.
The lawman visibly relaxed. “Thank Flor you’ve come to your senses. I’ll find us transportation while Rafe fills you in on the basic scheme of things. For the most part it’s like every other undercover mission you’ve worked.”
“For the most part?”
“This mission you’re not flying solo. Temis will be
with you every step of the way.”
Chapter Two
One day. One lousy day was all he could recoup from a fully paid month-long vacation.
Jahnja, his personal thraia, walked through the door clad in nothing more than what her maker had given her. Damn, but the Afleran gods had real talent. Despite his fascination with her unbridled sensuality, hostility lingered over the lawmakers’ interruption.
“Do you want me to come back later?”
Gren forced his anger at the idiot peacemakers from his mind. “I don’t have more than tonight. Why don’t you join me on the bed?”
She smiled and licked her lips, her tongue glazing the ripe fruit of her mouth, accentuating the promise of fulfilment.
He watched with interest as she fondled her breasts with two hands, while her other hands skimmed her body and fondled the dark skin between her thighs. He’d never before lain with a thraia and had been looking forward to learning if their reputation was as well-earned as had been told.
But as she neared, thoughts of that viper-tongued peacemaker stole through Jahnja’s image. White-blonde hair and flashing, violet eyes seared his loins. To Gren’s dismay his cock buoyed under the peacemaker’s imagined ferocity.
“Ah, such a large gift.” Jahnja smiled and crawled up the bed.
Mentally shoving Temis Freya from his thoughts, Gren focused on the woman before him. He waited curiously to see how she’d use her hands, then sighed with pleasure when she wrapped two heated palms around his cock. With her other hands she stroked his body, teased his nipples with pinching pleasure, and kneaded his flanks with a finesse that bespoke practice.
He throbbed, needing release, wanting to spill inside a warm, willing woman. It had been too long since he’d enjoyed himself sexually, way too long, if his reaction to Temis was any indication.
