A movement in the crowd snapped her to attention. The Ogre. Then the tiger’s words registered, leaving a trail of cold in its wake. Clever kitty. She’d bet he lulled many people the same way, using that luscious voice, subtle movements and just the lick of wildness to lure them to him.
“I think not.” Though she tried to rein it in, power burned along her arms at the thought of being held against her will. The beasts retreated, leaving all that power behind along with the dangerous urge to release it. The leather she wore usually protected those nearest her, but direct touch couldn’t mute the effects. Not even wearing gloves kept those around her completely safe when her dander was up.
The boy sucked in a sharp breath, and she quickly dropped her hand from him. She refused to look behind her, but she didn’t need to. She could see everything in the tiger’s reaction. The way he tensed slightly, the way his eyes flickered back and forth between her and the boy.
The crowd drew closer, pressing in on her from all sides, stealing the air around her.
She needed to leave.
The music grew louder, the lights brighter.
A bulb popped, glass shattered. Three more blew in rapid succession.
She took off at a run, dodging through the crowd, ignoring the shouts. The tiger quickly closed the gap between them. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck. Desperate for space, she thrust a burst of current into the crowd. A mass of confusion ensued as everyone received a nasty shock and started shoving one another. Lights flickered, plunging them in darkness. Electricity lashed out of the floor and up into her feet, the charge filling her with power.
She slammed into the door, out into the night and took off at a dead run. She should’ve known better than to be seduced into entering a slave auction by some innocent needing her help. She had a hard enough time staying out of trouble without the need to borrow someone else’s. She just prayed no one could tie this whole, rotten evening back to her or there would be no end of trouble to land on her doorstep.
Sneak Peek
The Demon Within
Blood trickled from a gash, coating the rough surface of stone beneath Caly’s fingers. Warming it. Pulling her arm back, she ignored the cut and parted the vines.
And caught a glimpse of stone.
Spreading the vegetation further, she stilled when powerful thighs filled her gaze. The voices of the men arguing disappeared in the background as she tilted her head back and looked up.
A black beetle so large it had to be on steroids paused climbing the statue and flicked a perturbed glance at her. With a little hiss for disturbing him, the little critter launched itself in the air with a flutter of wings. She flinched, bowed backwards to miss being hit in the face.
And met the open-eyed stare of a statue, a man forever captured in time. All thoughts of bugs vanished. Caly’s lips parted, her eyes widened and her breath stuttered out of her mouth.
There was a God.
The man—and from her view kneeling on the moss covered ground, he was most definitely a man—was absolutely gorgeous. Not in the normal sense, not by Hollywood standards. Prominent cheekbones, a full, sharp nose and a strong jaw kept his face from being too feminine.
Desire twisted through her, and a deep yearning tightened her chest. A bubble of hope swelled. This was a man she could depend on to not let her down. When she looked at him, the chaos inside that defined most of her life settled.
She felt normal.
Reality crashed over her, settling heavily on her shoulders. Desire for a damn statue. How ironic she could be attracted to stone when live men left her cold. But here, in the middle of nowhere, she found a man who turned her on like nobody else, and he wasn’t real. It was enough to make her cry.
Little details filtered into her brain. A thrill of excitement thrummed under her skin. The answers she sought about her condition were stuck in the past; she only had to uncover the clues.
This was why she came here, what quieted her protests against the mission, all for the chance to learn if there was a possibility for her to be human again. To find a way to finally destroy the demon infection that had taken root and flourished in her body. Each time the darkness opened up in her, the harder it became to fight. The more she wondered why she fought it at all.
The mission forgotten, Caly took her time to catalog each odd detail, a dark thrill brushed against the edge of her awareness. The statue wasn’t what she’d come to expect from this region. Instead of native garb, the grey stone man had chiseled, close fitted pants. Two inch carved straps crisscrossed his chest, appearing to almost dig into the stone. His long hair, wild with waves, was tied back from his face.
Her fingers twitched to run her hands over him. Though his complexion was tinged green with age, the fierce expression drew her gaze instead of repelling her. The turn of his lips was anything but sensual, yet their full form made her think of sex and what a man could do with a mouth like his.
Strong shoulders led down to a lean, sculptured chest. His open shirt did little to disguise his physique. The statue shouldn’t have impressed her, but it was as if the stone called to her. She had to curl her fingers into a fist to resist touching him. A streak of light filtered through the canopy, wavered a moment then illuminated him like an offering. Something just for her and no one else.
As she watched, she swore his chest moved to breathe. It took a physical effort to pull her gaze away, regulate her breathing, and longer to tuck away the desire to stake claim. The weird light faded, and her focus came to rest on a knife strapped to his right side. The fifteen-inch dagger rested close to his body, the curved handle arched up, wrapping along his ribs. What drew her interest was the intricate design etched along the outside of the scabbard and handle. It was too detailed for any stone crafting of the time. Or it should have been.
Absorbed in the discovery, she leaned forward for a better look. It reminded her of something important, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, jolting her attention back to her surroundings, leaving her guts in her throat.
“Did you find anything of interest?”
Oscar.
Shit.
“No.” The protest rose automatically to her lips. Her fascination with the statue triggered her unease again. Especially the way it so completely made her forget her surroundings and the mission.
It took more force than she liked to drop her hands to her sides. A hand she hadn’t even known she’d raised. The vines swung inward, the statue disappeared from sight, and her stomach dropped. Caly honestly didn’t know if her reaction was due more to the fact she messed up or because the statue was no longer under her watchful eye.
She had an awful, sinking feeling it was the latter.
“Nothing of interest.” Guilt caused her to flush, but she didn’t want the old man to find the statue, feeling protective of the stupid thing. She tried to tell herself she was overreacting, but her mind didn’t agree. She held her ground, waiting for him to move away.
The contest of wills broke when, with his usual vigor, Oscar leaned past her and yanked on the vines. Vegetation shredded, bruised leaves drifting abandoned to the ground. Bold and savage, her statue faced forward, a sentinel frozen in time, waiting to be awakened.
She swore that Oscar instinctively knew what she wanted and made sure she never received it. In her peripheral vision, she watched him circling the stone, but once he disappeared from view, he disappeared from her thoughts as well.
One step forward, then two, she stood only inches away from temptation, her palms itching for just one touch. She stole a quick glance at the statue from under her lashes, then forced herself to turn away and put him…it out of her mind. The urge to linger pulled at her sense of duty. The simple task to turn and walk away was surprisingly hard, especially since she’d dedicated her life to her work.
“You know what it is.” Oscar’s low growl didn’t have its normal bite, yet the tone stiffened th
e muscles of her back.
Caly refused to face him, refused to let him see the fear in her eyes. Fear for the stone man. She swallowed past her painfully dry throat. “A statue.”
“Don’t be a fool. You know it’s a demon, one of the cursed guardian statues. Just pray that your blood isn’t human enough to wake him. If the blasted thing wasn’t mounted in granite, I’d have it smashed.”
The lash of his words stung, but the threat to the statue sent a surge of terror through her. And that pissed her off. She opened her mouth to protest when a jungle cat’s roar rang out and echoed in the treetops.
Caly whipped her head around, her eyes narrowing at the undergrowth. At first she didn’t see anything. After a moment, two eyes blinked lazily, staring back at her as a big ass cat licked its muzzle. A chill crept down her spine. A twitch of muscles betrayed her abhorrence of the creatures.
There was nothing behind those eyes but pure predator. No hunger, but a need and desire to kill for the pleasure of it.
“Skins!” Possessions were when a demon took over a body. Skins were when demons forced the actual soul out of the body and used them as indestructible suits that only a beheading would free the demon and allow it to be killed.
Even as she bellowed the warning, the guides screamed like kids and took off. A streak to the left broke her concentration, and she saw another animal, a black panther, bound after the two men. Their bloodcurdling screams were cut off abruptly, leaving no doubt to their fate.
The other panther slowly slunk out of its hiding place, its eyes locked on her.
A sound to her right had the big cat’s head swing in that direction.
“Run!”
Sneak Peek
BloodSworn
Trina wasn’t aware what woke her, but she wanted to kill them when the warm, sensual dream faded. She held still, half-able to feel those hands linger on her body, but the outside world refused to bow to her wish.
Sounds seeped in first.
Or the absence of sounds.
No tweeting of birds. No people coming or going. She groped for her weapon and sighed of relief when her fingers encountered cool steel.
The image of the sexy man, bound and determined to bring her pleasure, vanished like a wisp of smoke, and she nearly whimpered.
Then she became aware of the soft surface beneath her and not the hard lump of the makeshift bed she’d created in the shed. She cracked open one eye, uncertain what to expect.
The Den.
Merrick.
He was the Leo. Of course he was. How could she not have known? And how the heck did she get his attention or more importantly, how did she escape it now that she was his concubine?
Memories of yesterday flittered through her head. One thought rose to the forefront, like how she fell asleep on the couch and ended up on the bed.
Half-afraid of what she’d find, she stretched out, shivering at the feel of silk against her skin. She was spread-eagle on the bed, nowhere near the sides, when she realized she was alone. Relief and disappointment struck in equal measure, and she hated that she felt both.
The dream teased the back of her mind. She felt haunted by her phantom lover’s touch, the aching need when he kissed her. She was devastated by the loss, the realization he wasn’t real.
She befriended humans, but had never committed to a relationship for the simple fact that any boyfriend she chose would always be in danger.
She’d avoided the paranormal as well for fear of discovery. But the man in her dream was different. He knew about her past and could protect himself.
What hurt the most was it would only ever be a fantasy.
She rubbed her eyes, banishing the dream as best she could. She had work to do. Sunlight streamed through the room, and she was surprised at how deeply she’d slept. A few more nights rest like last night, a couple of meals, and she’d be back to normal.
But first she had to do her job.
She scooted to the edge of the mattress and found that her feet dangled nearly a foot from the floor. She dropped down, the plush rug warm under her toes. She walked around the bed to grab her pack, probing her ribs, taking measure of her injuries.
Or where her wounds should’ve been.
She ripped off the bandages, wincing at the tug of stubborn tape. Deep bruises made the whole side of her body sensitive to even the slightest touch, but the open lacerations she’d sustained last night had closed. Smooth skin met her fingertips. Though she was thankful, the rapid healing didn’t bode well for her.
It meant the bindings were weakening. How much longer before they broke all together? A small part of her, the little girl who’d lost her powers just as she found them, cheered at being able to defend herself. The adult trembled.
What did she know about magic?
If she reversed the process and stopped her magic from unraveling, she could buy herself some time. She was halfway bent down to kneel and grab her bag when she saw him.
The same man from her dreams.
A very naked man.
Merrick.
Her mind rebelled. She couldn’t have had a sexy dream about the man who might very well destroy her. Vampires had been inside the Den not a day ago. She couldn’t forget that, no matter how much her body wanted to be worshiped by him.
Merrick lay stretched out, dwarfing the extra-large couch. He didn’t look comfortable, but that wasn’t what captured her attention. The sun highlighted the golden color of his skin. It was just how she imagined his animal would appear.
The only thing blocking her view was the sheet draped haphazardly over his slim hips. Her brain short-circuited at the thought of him completely nude.
Him sleeping within a few feet of her and all without a stitch of clothing on struck her dumb, and her emotions jumbled at the conflicting emotions.
She swallowed hard and fanned her face. No matter how much she might have wished it, there was no way that image would ever be far from her mind. Every time she saw him now, she would picture him stretched out as if for her pleasure.
It didn’t matter that she was a doctor, that she’d seen hundreds of naked bodies. She knew layers of skin and bone, but nothing in her studies had ever shown a man structured quite like him, with muscles quite so defined and begging to be stroked.
Doctor.
She shook her head at the reminder, as if she could banish the impulse so easily. She needed to get a closer look at him to decide what was the best course of action…for medical purposes she told herself sternly when her pulse betrayed her and sped up.
She just didn’t know if she’d survive it.
One thing would help…getting him clothed.
But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from that sheet. Or more precisely, what it hid. Where was a gust of wind when you needed one?
Her fingers itched to explore all that exposed flesh, but she feared it had nothing to do with science. Her body urged her to touch, while the sane, sensible part of her mind seemed to have taken a vacation.
Then she saw the lines of strain, the stiff way he held himself even in sleep. She needed to see his back.
“Merrick, roll over.”
Trina found herself sprawled across the floor with a lion, in all but animal form, half sprawled over her with his face just inches from hers.
She hadn’t even seen him move.
Was it her imagination or were his teeth sharper, his body larger, and his eyes shaded just this side of golden?
She gave a tentative smile, knowing better than to try and escape. “Hello.”
“Are we under attack?” He blinked as if confused, finally recognizing her. His sleepy expression sent her heart thumping hard against her ribcage. The rumpled appearance only made him more attractive, more approachable and more touchable than was good for her.
Especially when she felt the sheet tangled around her feet.
No matter how much she told herself not to do it, it was too late. Her eyes flickered downward.
Yu
p, naked.
And such a nice naked backside, too.
It was her turn to blink when she felt his arousal.
“Attack?” It sure felt like it, and she was unarmed.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stacey Brutger lives in a small town in Minnesota with her husband, son and an assortment of animals. When she’s not reading, she enjoys creating stories about exotic worlds and grand adventures…then shoving in her characters to see how they’d survive. She enjoys writing anything paranormal from contemporary to historical.
Other books by this author:
BloodSworn
Coveted
A PeaceKeeper Novel
The Demon Within (Book1)
A Raven Investigations Novel
Electric Storm (Book 1)
Electric Moon (Book 2)
Coming Soon:
Electric Heat (Book 3)
Electric Legend (Book 3.5)
Electric Night (Book 4)
Citadel
Watch for her first dystopian novel called Citadel
or her next urban fantasy called Electric Heat.
Visit Stacey online to find out more at www.StaceyBrutger.com
Join her newsletter by visiting her site.
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