Nice: A Dark Christmas Duet book 1

by Vivian Murdoch

  Goosebumps explode over my skin. Pausing for a moment, I catch my breath and rise to my full height. I stand about a good foot above the man. He looks me up and down, sizing me up before his mouth breaks into a wide grin.

  "You must be Asmodeus! Wow. You've grown into such a fine, young man."

  I squint at the stranger, that churning getting stronger. "How do you know me."

  "Well, I delivered you, of course. I never forget an aura." He keeps smiling at me, his eyes twinkling.

  "Excuse me?"

  "That's right! Marcus Dreher. But many just know me as Ein Hexenmeister. Do I presume correctly? You traverse this way to meet me?"

  My mind spins as I take in this man in front of me. I have no memory or knowledge of this man. Father never even mentioned him specifically, just Ein Henxenmeister in general. Does he show up at all births? Or just those of monsters? I eye his outstretched hand pointing in the direction of his cottage. This certainly seems to be the right place.

  "Yes," I murmur. "I came to see you."

  "Excellent. Just follow me."

  I fall into step behind him, wordless in our trek to his home. Thankfully, the sights and smells are not as strong as in the center of NPP. Everything feels much more muted. More calm somehow. The closer we get, the worse the wind howls. It feels like there’s a gale surrounding the house. What sort of magic does this warlock wield? A small part of my brain lights up, warning bells sounding just in the edge of my mind, but I brush it aside and enter his home. If he lives in the actual NPP, then he's no threat to me.

  The door gives way to a small alcove with offshoots to other rooms. The whole place feels small and cozy. Safe. The word overrides the warning bells, forcing them to be quiet. My whole body relaxes the moment I step over the threshold, like my entire being held its breath then let it go in a whoosh. I sag for a moment, letting the feeling of relief wash over me. When was the last time I ever felt this safe? Tears prick my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away. Such sentimentality is for children and saps, and I am neither.

  "Make yourself at home while I fix you a drink."

  I open my mouth to refuse him, but the words don't come out. Instead, my mouth says, "yes, thank you." I stop, my breathing quickening, then dropping back to a rhythmic cadence. What the hell is happening? My feet amble forward, taking me into a room filled with lights, crystals, ornaments, and other various bottles and objects. A pair of thick chairs, separated by a small, round table, fill the center area. I walk over to the one closest to the door and sit down, the plush cushion swallowing me up as I sit there. Within a few minutes, Marcus makes his way into the room, sets down a stein in front of me and one in front of the empty chair before sitting down.

  I eye the stein for a moment, not wanting to drink its contents; however, my hand reaches out, grabs it, and brings it to my lips. The faint smell of chocolate and peppermint sting my nostrils as it gets closer. Unbidden, my mind flashes back to my human, her body stretched out on the table, her thighs glistening in the candlelight. My cock stirs back up to attention, and I shift in the chair. With a wink, Marcus downs his drink in a few gulps, his eyes never leaving mine.

  "Drink up son."

  Flavor explodes onto my tongue and burns its way down my throat. As I drink gulp after gulp, something shifts inside of me. Something dark and primal. My beast prowls around its cage and paws at the cracks in my foundation.

  I feel him in me, restless, agitated, and very hungry. Only one thing will satisfy him, and it's that one thing that brought me to Marcus' doorstep. I stare at the man before me, his mirthful eyes driving me insane. I want to just smack that jolly look from his face.

  He leans back and twiddles his thumbs a bit as he watches me. He's waiting for something. I can feel it. But what does he want? After staring me down for a few minutes, Marcus leans towards me and smirks.

  "What did you come to see me about, son?"

  I shake my head as confusion fills my mind. Why am I here? Where even am I? With a snap, the cup in front of me is refilled. I try to resist. My hand shakes with the strain as I force myself to remain immobile, but regardless, the cup is once again brought up to my lips. As the liquid flows down, I get even woozier. Everything starts spinning. The lights merge into one, bright blur. Before I can mutter a word, I collapse onto the table in front of me.

  Bright lights pierce my skull as I attempt to open my eyes. The cacophony of Christmas songs assaults my ears bringing my headache up to the forefront. Squinting, I make out the Mistletoe Lodge, the flashing lights bringing a roiling nausea to my stomach.

  I close them again and breathe deep, letting the air kiss my checks and drive out the ill feeling. Rolling to my side, I lay there, panting as the world continues to spin. After a few moments, it dies down, allowing me to finally think. What the hell happened to me? Looking back up at the sign, I shake my head, only to send pain ricocheting through my brain.

  I know better than that. Though I honestly don't know the last time I ever got that drunk. And I almost never get drunk at Mistletoe Lodge. I owe it to my girls to remain alert and sober. So, what happened tonight?

  "You look like shit."

  Groaning, I close my eyes and turn away from the sound. "Fuck off Vixen."

  Her scent wafts under my nose as she hunches down in front of my face. Great. This night is just getting better.

  "Why are you here Asmon?"

  "Checking up on me? I'm not your prisoner. I'm allowed in The Proper whenever I choose."

  Her black boot taps up and down in front of my face.

  "You're correct. But it doesn't mean you're exactly wanted around here. We've had some complaints."

  I snort and roll over onto my back, taking stock of my head before easing my way up. Thankfully, the spinning doesn't seem to be coming back. I crack my eye open and spear Vixen with a look.

  "If that were true, Red would be here instead of you."

  She examines her nails for a moment, flicking off invisible dust motes before sliding her chocolate gaze to mine.

  "He had more important matters than dealing with you."

  "Dealing with me?" I grind out, narrowing my gaze. "And just what, pray tell, is there to deal with?" I ease up to my feet and stare down at the shifter. “Am I on the NPP most wanted list?"

  She slides her gaze to the side. Exultation flows through me at her small show of submission. The beast in me rises and shouts. After a moment, her gaze softens as she looks back up at me.

  "You know you shouldn't be here," she whispers.

  "Then where the fuck am I supposed to be, Vixen? Huh? I can't stay in the mortal world for too long, can't visit the NPP without being watched like a rabid dog. You tell me where I'm supposed to go?"

  Her eyes snap up to mine, all pretense of submission gone. "Look, I don't give a fuck what you do. Okay. If it were up to me, I'd go do something better than watch out for an old man that can't seem to hold his liquor."

  I bristle up, irritation flowing through my veins. "I haven't been drinking." Have I? I shake my head again, trying to dispel the cotton feeling that still lingers. What am I doing out here?

  "Uh huh. Sure you haven't. Tell me then, why are you passed out in front of Mistletoe Lodge? Gotta hand it to you, didn't think you'd hit rock bottom quite like this."

  Snarling, I lunge at her, face planting into the snow as she feints to the right. The cold snaps me to attention. I can't believe I just attacked Vixen! But the bitch was baiting you, my beast growls in my brain. I shake my head again. Shards of pain drive down into my skull.

  "Come on, big guy," she murmurs, her voice calm and placating. Standing up, she wraps her arms about my waist and lets me lean on her. "Let's get you back home. Don't wanna be hungover when you get your girl to punish."

  Memories shoot back into my braid. Caitlin! How did I even forget about her? My cock lurches up as I remember exactly how I left her, and that she's going to be bound up and waiting for my return.

  "Woah, down boy. I'm glad
you're enthusiastic, but you're so not my type."

  I glance down at Vixen's face where her eyes are glued to the bulge in my pants. Smirking, I clutch her tighter. "Sure about that? I could rock your world you know."

  "Ewww. I wouldn't have you anywhere near me like that. Big macho men like you are all bluster and no substance. Thanks, but no thanks."

  Grinning, I pull out of her grasp, finally free of the infernal pounding in my head. As memories leak back in, the discomfort starts to ease. I don't know what the hell Marcus did to me, but he better not cross paths with me again if he wants to remain safe.

  Clenching my fists at my side, I grind my teeth and look down the path that leads to his house. He better be glad he's protected by whatever hocus pocus controls my body, because there's no way in hell I'll try to fight him on his own turf.

  The bells in the town square tinkle out the time, the annoying chimes alerting me to just how much time has passed. If my calculations are correct, Caitlin should be waking up soon, and I need to be there when she does. Pulling away from Vixen, I cast her a half smile.

  "Gotta run. Thanks for the pick-me-up."

  She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Don't feel like you need to come back any time soon. We'll be okay without you."

  I ignore her comment and start a brisk pace out of the city. Time ticks in my head, a steady drumbeat in the back of my mind. Along with that is the thought of Ein Hexenmeister. I have no idea what all of this means, but something just isn't right. As I stalk my way across the snow, my beast prowls inside me, clawing at me, trying desperately to get out.

  My beast and I are usually in agreement, but lately, things are just getting way out of hand. Even now, he doesn't want to stay locked up until I let him out. He's rattling his cage demanding his freedom. But do I let him out? That's the true question. For the first time in my existence, I have no idea what my beast wants. I can't appease him or soothe him. Caitlin, it whispers into my brain. I want Caitlin. Well yeah. I want her too, but I there's no way in hell I'm keeping her after I'm done using up her lithe, little body. I don't care what the beast wants. He can't have her. I can't have her.

  The beast continues to prowl about, whispering insidious things. He wants to mark every inch of her skin: turn her pale flesh crimson in his ire. He wants to rake his claws down her body, branding her as his and his alone. No matter what she gives him, he will always want more, demand more. He will not be satisfied until she no longer exists, only a body for him to consume whenever he feels the urge. And based on how loudly he’s howling within me, he’s never stopped feeling the urge.

  The faint glow of my house comes into view, filling me with warmth and dread. It's not at all garish like the houses in NPP, and it's perfect for me. But deep inside the walls lies my prey, and I have no idea what I'm going to do to her. I knock my boots off before coming inside, trying to keep the mess as minimal as possible. Poor Fredrick has enough on his plate at the moment. From the instant I open the door, he's there helping me ease off my coat.

  "Still asleep, Master, but she's been stirring a bit more. It's almost time."

  My horns ease their way out of my skull, the dull, burning pain lulling me back inside myself. My beast dances around with glee as we finally start the exchange. Soon, he'll be free, and I might be powerless to stop it. I reach down and unbutton my pants and slide them past my hips. My tail springs free and undulates about. I shiver a bit, as the sensations wash over me. It's been several months since I've allowed myself this much of a transformation.

  Everything else about me stays human, it's the only way I can even attempt to keep an eye on the beast side of me. Stretching out, I glance over at Fredrick, amused that my nakedness doesn't bother him in the slightest. To be fair, he's seen me transform enough times that by now, I'd probably be shocked if he did react.

  I lengthen my stride, eager to get to my prize. My cock bobs in agreement. The sooner I punish her, the sooner I can bury myself in her heat. Smiling, I take the stairs two at a time, anxious to look upon her again.

  She's spread out on the table, hands and feet bound to each perspective corner. I lick my lips as I watch her lay there before going over to my wrack of tools to pick out the perfect one to torment her with. I slide my hand over the various implements, my brain whirling as I suss through my options.

  Chapter Four: Caitlin

  Pain pounds through my temples, setting my stomach to churning and clenching. Dear God, what's wrong with me? I lay there for a few minutes, eyes closed, just trying to figure out what the hell is going on. I remember the office party, but most of that is a blur. Bits and pieces of the party trickle in, mostly the drunk people partying around while I was getting fired. FIRED!

  My consciousness bursts to life, the memories filling back in. I was fired. A lone tear escapes my closed eyelids and slides down my cheek. I want to wipe it away, but what does it matter? It's not like anyone can see me break down. Another tear slides down unbidden. Other thoughts filter through, but nothing really lands. It's more like a depressing slideshow. The drinking, the theft, the vandalism, all of it comes front and center.

  Shame burns through me, heating my cheeks. I can't believe I behaved like that. Normally I'm the even keel one, but something just snapped, and I couldn't help myself. I turn my head to the side, resulting in another massive throb.

  Groaning, I pull my hand forward to rub my head, but find that it won't move. My pulse quickens and my breathing comes in gasps. Why can't I move? Was I in an accident? I squirm and struggle a moment before realizing that everything can move fine, I'm just held down somehow. The panic doubles. I can't breathe. Forcing my eyes open doesn't help either.

  Wherever I am swims a bit, and it's dim enough that I can't even make out where I'm at. I'm not at home though. That much is clear. A faint, zip of cold settles over my body and makes me shiver. I'm also naked. This cannot be good. I know I wanted a vacation, but hell. Did I sign up for something and I just don’t remember it?

  Eyes wide, I toss my head back and forth, ignoring the splintering pain at every motion. Right now, it doesn't matter. What matters is I figure out where the hell I am and how to get out.

  Looking around provides no clues. The only things I can see are shadows flickering about from nearly spent candles. Groaning, I pull at my hands and feet, whimpering with every tug. Nothing is coming loose. Fuck! How am I going to get out of this? Tipping my head back, whispered prayers and promises to be good spill from my lips. Maybe someone or something will hear me and help me out of this jam. Either way, I'm never drinking again. That much is certain.

  “Should I give her something for the pain, Master?"

  The soft murmur reaches my ears from across the room. I crane my neck, trying to bring my ear closer to the sound. Master? What the actual hell? I shake my head again, trying to clear my brain, but it only results in further pain. More tears slide down my cheeks. Gritting my teeth, I try to fight past the discomfort and keep yanking at my bonds. I don't care who the hell has me, I'm not going down without a fight.

  "No. Let the pretty thing suffer. I don't want anything to dull her experience."

  That dark, gravelly voice pierces through me and sets my body to shivering. He's the one that's going to hurt me! Even knowing this, some part of me craves to hear him speak again. He must have slipped me something. That's the only way to explain why I would be attracted to a man that's going to torture me.

  "What the fuck do you want?"

  "Oooh."

  His voice sounds much closer. My body lurches over to get closer to it. I want to run, I want to flee, but my mind and body are at war with each other.

  “Sounds like I'm going to have to start the punishment with that pretty little mouth."

  I slam my lips shut and suck them into my mouth. I have no clue what he has planned, but he'll have to pry my mouth open to get to them. My teeth dig into the delicate flesh sending skitters of pain into my skull. Fuck. I release the death grip on my lips. Squin
ting my eyes closed, I force myself to swallow, and breathe. His dark chuckle flows around me and settles to the other side of my head. I twist about as best I can, but still, I see nothing. Is he even real?

  "Hiding those luscious lips isn’t going to save you, naughty minx. Now, open for me like a good girl."

  A fleeting feeling brushes my cheek. Not solid enough to be a person, but not so ephemeral to be the wind. I shiver again. I shake my head firmly and press my head into whatever I'm lying on, trying to escape him.

  “Open." He growls.

  Something soft and warm slides around my throat, coiling about a few times. It's firm, but not tight and suffocating. As I lay there, the coils slowly constrict and undulate around the column of my throat. Only one thing could act like this: a snake. Fear zips through my body. I'm not scared of much, but snakes are not on my favorite list.

  I shudder in revulsion as the body coils tighter and tighter. But I don't open my mouth. That's what this psycho wants. As scared as I am, this snake has nothing on my kidnapper. From off to the side, as best as I can figure, the head of the snake comes slithering up my cheek and across the seam of my lips.

  Wordless pleas and promises litter my brain. I can't show any fear. Not to this monster. Every inch of me is as still as a statue. I hold my breath for a moment, then only breathe in and out in slow, shallow movements. Maybe if I play dead the snake will leave me alone?

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shoot up whatever prayer I can that someone get this freaking thing off of me. The head of the snake worms around a little bit more before sliding back and forth across my mouth. I hold my lips inside my mouth and press my teeth down even harder. Bonus is that it keeps the whimper that hovers at the back of my throat inside where it belongs.

  Suddenly, the head lifts off from my lips, and I inhale just a touch deeper. Maybe it's bored with me and wants to torment someone else. Without warning, it slams against my mouth, smacking my skin hard and fast. My eyes fly open. What the hell kind of snake is this? I try to look down, but it only results in crossed eyes and a re-blossoming of my headache.