Master of Ecstasy

by Nina Bangs

  Her laughter shook even as it mocked. "A wee bit unhappy? You're kidding, right? How about fullblown depression? I can't believe you told me you were happy."

  He drew his outer garment around him, belted it, then rose from his bed. "I have lived five hundred years. 'Tis not possible to exist so long without sorrow, but the sadness makes the times of happiness more intense." Darach smiled at her. "I would not change what I am. I live to feel pleasure."

  Something in his voice must have warned her, because her eyes grew large, her breath quickened. Need moved in him, pushing back his memories of Ian. He welcomed the need.

  "I feel pleasure more strongly than others. And my senses feed that pleasure." He lowered his voice to a husky murmur, calling to all that was elemental in a woman. "The scent of a woman who wants my body stirs me, makes me hard with a need to slide my fingers across her warm flesh, bury myself between her open thighs, taste her breasts, and savor the texture of her mouth, soft and swollen from my kisses."

  Her eyes grew even wider. Mayhap he should not have mentioned his need to taste.

  "Well, that's really interesting, but I'm sort of tired tonight. I think I'll just call it a day. I didn't find out anything from Ganymede today, but I'll tag around after him tomorrow." She rose so quickly from her chair that she almost knocked it over.

  He smiled what he knew must be a predatory smile, but he could not help himself. " 'Twould take a brave woman to walk with me in the moonlight." He looked away to give her time to think on that. "Ye'll be here only a fortnight. 'Tis not long to try to make one such as me happy. 'Twould be a shame to waste an opportunity."

  Darach felt her distress as ripples of worry. "Fine. I'll go. But no stirring need, no sliding of fingers, no tasting."

  His smile widened. "Ach, lass, the tasting is the best part."

  Her gaze narrowed on him. "I just bet it is."

  She put on her shawl, flung open the door, and almost ran down the steps. "Let's get this walk over with."

  Bemused, he followed her out into the Highland night.

  "It's so… dark out here. So empty." She glanced up at the evening sky. "Earth is overpopulated in 2339. If I looked up at night, the sky would be lit by millions of mobile sky homes." Even as she commented on the dark emptiness of the sky, she strode across the stone walkway connecting the island on which the castle stood with the mainland, determination to walk and be done with it evident in every step she took. "Don't we have to worry about wild animals? What about bandits? How many dangers are out here?"

  He knew he shouldn't chance that she would turn and race back to the castle, but the need to tease pushed at him. How many hundreds of years had it been since he had felt a desire to tease a woman? He could not remember.

  Purposely he moved close, not allowing her to back away from him. Her body almost touched his as she looked up at him with eyes that shone in the moonlight. He leaned toward her. Her parted lips were a mighty distraction.

  "Ye need have no worries about wild beasties in the night." He allowed his smile to tell her all he wished to do with her. "Because the greatest danger walks beside ye tonight, lass."

  She blinked those wondrous eyes at him. "I feel much better knowing that."

  * * *

  Chapter Four

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  "You did what?" Ganymede paused in the process of chugging another gulp of the pink stuff straight from the bottle. At the rate he was knocking it down, he'd have a stomach permanently coated in pink by the time he got rid of the vampire.

  "I hooked up two of the men from your group." Sparkle offered him her sly sexy look, the one that had driven him crazy with lust when she was in human form. Now it just scared him.

  "Hey, that's great. With two men paired with two of the women, I only have one more couple to worry about." Maybe he'd misjudged Sparkle's expression. Restlessly he paced his room, stopping to glance out the narrow slit that passed for a window.

  "Did I say that? I don't think I said that." Sparkle tried on a cute pout, but it didn't come off in a face with whiskers. "I hooked up two of the men"—she paused for effect—"with each other. I helped them understand that their full sexual potential would only be realized together. It was a beautiful moment."

  Ganymede didn't reply; he just gulped down the rest of the bottle. He'd worked alone for thousands of years, wreaking havoc on the universe, and been a poster boy for great mental health. Two days with an assistant and he was ready for a shrink and some Prozac.

  "I know, I know. You wanted the boy-girl thing. But your way isn't the only way." She seemed to lose interest as she sat down and peered at her rump. "Does my butt look fat? White sucks. Why'd you choose white?"

  "Great. I have three women and one man left. Now what do I do, smart-ass?" For one out-of-control moment, he allowed an evil thought to take charge. How satisfying would it be to squeeze Sparkle through that stupid excuse for a window, then watch her fat, furry rump bounce off the courtyard surface? "And your butt looks huge." That was mean and small, but gratifying.

  Instead of an angry retort, she smiled a smug cat smile. "Very good. See, you can still think evil thoughts. And I wouldn't bounce. Cats always land on their feet." Her smile faded. "Why'd you check out of the game, Mede? You were the baddest of the bad. You were my hero."

  "I wanted to." He offered her a glare that at one time would have signaled the end of whole planetary systems.

  "Admit it, the Big Boss made you." She washed her face with one small paw.

  "It was my choice." A lie. Thank heavens no one was monitoring his lies. "Maybe you should get with the program and learn the joy of doing good." The lies just kept on a-coming.

  Her snort was a puff of defiance. "Forget it. I love what I do. Anyone ever tries to turn me into a cosmic do-gooder, I'll rip his nonexistent heart from his chest." She cast Ganymede a pointed glare.

  "Look, this argument isn't getting us anywhere." Translation: Ganymede was losing. "This Darach needs some encouragement to leave. I want you to mess with his room, make things a little uncomfortable for him."

  "Why can't you mess with his room?" She was now in sulky mode. "Oh, I forgot. You're good now. Can't dirty your hands with evil doings." She slid him a narrow-eyed warning. "You have no idea how mad it makes me to know you brought me here just to do your dirty work." Turning her back on him, she padded to the door and waited with regal dignity while he opened it.

  Ganymede swallowed hard. A pissed Sparkle was not to be taken lightly. As soon as she slipped from his room he closed the door, then slumped against it. Five minutes of being good took more energy than five thousand years of being bad.

  Sparkle's light trill of laughter echoed in his mind. "If you ever decide to try bad again, show me your golden-god form and I'll show you all the things one woman can do to one man."

  Her sensual temptation dragged a groan from him. Angrily he strode across his room and brought his fist down on a cherub figurine smiling benignly from his bedside table. A white figurine. He swept the shattered pieces onto the floor. He felt better now.

  Darach walked beside Blythe along the dark, winding path. She drew closer to him at the thought of other creatures like Ian lurking within the shadows of objects made unfamiliar by a night washed in pale moonlight. She leaned into him, so close that his hip touched her side as he skirted a large boulder in the path.

  Her awareness of him grew with every step. His heat, his pure physicality, his clean male scent. If he stopped, turned to her, then drew her down with him beneath one of those dark shadows, she might make a token murmur, but that's all. He would cover her, the warmth of his large body driving away all demons, those that roamed the Scottish night and those that lived in her. And her job would be toast.

  "Ye're quiet." He didn't break stride, only put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer against his side. "We dinna have much farther to walk."

  "Where're we going?" Blythe wasn't sure she wanted to go anywhere in particular. The crisp Highlan
d air, Darach's heat warming her, and the hard, muscular shift of his body as he strode through the dark were pleasures in themselves. Who needed a destination?

  "Look." He pointed down the small hill they'd just crested. "An inn rests at the edge of yon village. I thought ye might enjoy meeting others besides the ones ye came with."

  Village? Talk about culture shock. All she could make out were what looked like a few cottages, a slightly larger building, and a rutted dirt road that wound past them. The cottages were dark, but the one window of the larger building shone with a soft glow that didn't have the harsh glare of the light she was used to in her time.

  They descended the hill and Darach pushed open the inn's door. The only two people in the dimly lit room stopped to stare.

  The larger of the two men lumbered to meet them. " 'Tis late ye be traveling. Do ye wish lodging?" While he spoke, his dark gaze swept over Blythe. " 'Tis a plague of women we've seen these past days. I dinna know where they come from, but they shouldna be traveling the roads like men. They should stay home doing the work of women."

  Whoa, Cro-Magnon man lived. What a comfort to know that jerks existed in every age. Blythe opened her mouth to verbally unman him, then caught Darach's warning glance. Reluctantly she settled for a glare that should have left a smoking hole where his heart had been.

  "I dinna understand." Darach's voice was casual, but Blythe sensed tension beneath it.

  The man shrugged massive shoulders as he shifted his attention to Darach. "Two passed through today, four yesterday. They asked about work at the castle. Women are daft to travel alone." He paused to consider the foolishness of all women. " 'Tis strange the laird doesna have women from the village to serve him. 'Tis for the best, though, because there be strange things happening at the castle. Our lasses wouldna wish to work there." His expression said that he could tell many stories about the strangeness of the castle if he so chose.

  Darach nodded, but he seemed distracted. "We but wish to rest a bit." He handed the innkeeper payment that brought the first smile to the man's florid face.

  "I'll get ye something to drink."

  As the innkeeper moved off, Darach steered Blythe toward an old man seated at a table near the fire. He sat down next to the man, pulled Blythe down beside him, then nodded a greeting. " 'Tis a fine night."

  "Aye." The old man studied him with bleary eyes. "I met a man many years ago who looked as ye look. Strangers dinna visit often, so I remembered him."

  "Ye must have met my father. We look much alike." He acknowledged the innkeeper, who plunked down a mug in front of him and one in front of Blythe.

  Blythe took a sip of the drink, then grimaced. Gross. Strong enough to grow hair not only on your chest but also on a variety of other body parts. Definitely a drink for this time period, a hairy man's drink.

  Darach raised the mug to his lips but didn't drink. He gazed at Blythe over the rim of his mug, and his eyes laughed at her. She drew in her breath at the pure beauty of this… man? Yes, no matter what he called himself, he was a man to her.

  "Do ye find the ale to your liking, wife?"

  Wife? "It tastes fine." It tasted like Carpian sludge. No, it tasted worse. Wife?

  The old man nodded. "Sharing Jamie's ale is a fine way to spend a spring night. Do ye go to the castle?"

  "Spring?" Spring nights were never this cold. In her time, the temperature-regulating satellites kept Earth's nights at a balmy seventy-three degrees during the spring.

  "Aye." Darach paused long enough to place his hand on Blythe's thigh. "My father told me of the MacKenzie stronghold, and I would see it." He slid his hand the length of her thigh.

  Blythe had opened her mouth to say something, but the sizzling path of his hand erased all coherent thought. Except for one. Wife?

  " 'Tis a wondrous sight, even though no one understands how the MacKenzies rebuilt it so quickly without help from the villagers. Only the tower has stood since before my lifetime." The old man's gaze grew distant. " 'Tis how it must have looked when 'twas built five hundred years ago to protect this land against the Northmen."

  "Northmen?" The old man's comment reminded Blythe of the Viking who had put such fear into Ian. Okay, so he'd scared her a little, too. Fine, so he'd scared her a lot. Darach had never explained the Viking's presence.

  The old man turned to Blythe, his eyes alight with the pleasure of telling his tale to this new audience. "Five hundred years ago Black Varin Kylandsson was the scourge of this part of Scotland. Most of his evil brethren had pale hair, but his was as black as his demon heart. The devil's own slaughtered and pillaged up and down the coast. May his evil soul and the souls of his accursed followers roast in hell." He smiled, evidently pleased with his mental picture of roasting Vikings.

  "He may have found Valhalla in spite of your wishes, old man." Darach frowned. "Ye believe that good is rewarded when ye die. The Northmen believe rewards after death come to those who die fighting bravely."

  "Did he die bravely?" Something about Darach's response niggled at Blythe, but she couldn't put a finger on what was bothering her.

  The old man spat on the floor. "No one knows. Stories passed down swear that on stormy nights ye may still hear his battle cry and see his phantom ship sailing in from the sea." He leaned forward to peer at her. "I could tell ye of how Black Varin butchered all—"

  " 'Tis past time we left." Without warning, Darach stood.

  "Ye would do well to stay here." The innkeeper looked stricken at losing such a generous customer.

  "We are expected elsewhere this night." With no other explanation, he guided Blythe to the door.

  Her last view of the inn was of the surprised expressions on both the innkeeper's and the old man's faces.

  "I was just starting to enjoy the conversation," Blythe complained to Darach's broad back as he strode ahead of her. "I never even got a chance to scan the old man's emotions. They must be pretty twisted to get such a kick out of what some murderous barbarian did five hundred years ago."

  "Ye never forget your job. 'Tis not healthy. And mayhap the 'murderous barbarian' didna do all the old man said. Stories grow with the years." He sounded angry.

  "My job is my life, so I'm always interested in emotions." Why was he angry? "What was the 'wife' thing about, and why did we have to leave so soon?"

  "I grew tired of the old man's blather." Impatiently he stopped so that she could catch up. "And ye needed to be my wife to avoid questions ye might not wish to answer."

  Blythe couldn't help smiling. "Right. I might have told him that we weren't married because vampires and women from 2339 don't share a common life vision. That would've livened up the conversation."

  "Hmmmph." His grunt still sounded angry.

  Blythe walked beside him as they retraced their steps to the castle. She allowed herself a fleeting regret that he didn't put his arm across her shoulders again.

  "The old man's story bothered you. Why?" She tried to touch his emotions, but as usual came up empty. His heavy fall of black hair shifted across his broad shoulders as he turned his head to look at her.

  "The tale didna bother me." His stride lengthened.

  "You know a lot about the Northmen."

  "I dinna know more than others." He walked faster.

  "You were around at the same time as this Black Varin. Did you know him?" She was breathing hard in her attempt to keep up with him.

  "Aye." With every word he said, his step quickened.

  Enough. Blythe would have to run to keep up with him. She stopped in the middle of the path. The castle was in sight, so if he didn't come back for her, she would have no trouble getting home even though the dark emptiness of the Highlands scared her. She reached into the pocket of her dress to assure herself the Freeze-frame was still there.

  He had already rounded a curve in the path and disappeared from sight before he realized she wasn't walking beside him. She heard his steps returning. Angry steps. She smiled.

  Darach strode toward
Blythe, and it was like that first time in her room when he'd turned to look at her. His long dark hair swept away from a face so beautiful, so strong, that it took her breath away. His clothing, primitive or not, showcased a body any woman would want to touch, to strip down to bare flesh, to—

  "Are ye daft, woman? Why are ye standing here when we need return to the castle?" Even in anger his voice was a husky temptation to any female.

  "Tell me about him." Every instinct Blythe possessed said that it was important to know more about Black Varin. Absently she fingered the Ecstasy charm at her throat. Should she set the charm to record this conversation? At the end of two weeks, Textron would demand recorded proof that she'd made Darach happy. She dropped her hand to her side. No, nothing really essential to her assignment would likely come from this.

  "Not here."

  Hands clenched into fists, he loomed over Blythe. And for the first time, she sensed a crack in the wall he'd thrown up between them. Worry. A worry strong enough to seep under his emotional guard. This wasn't a surface emotion like the anger he had just displayed, but the deeper kind she'd wanted to find.

  "Here. Now." Strong worry went hand in hand with emotional distress, and emotional distress was her specialty. Was he worried about her questioning, or something else? Whatever it was, she had to convince him that she could help him approach his problems in a more positive frame of mind. And she had to do it without Textron peering over her shoulder.

  Blythe watched him slowly unclench his fists and knew she'd won.

  "Varin killed, but only those men who fought him. He didna slaughter innocents. He and his men wished to gain land so they could settle here. 'Twould not be wise to kill those he might need." His expression said he hoped this information would satisfy her.

  He hadn't told her nearly enough. "What about the women? Did he rape and pillage?" Her hands had no self-control. They refused to stay at her side when Darach was in touching distance. And they had absolutely no understanding of Ecstasy Inc.'s company policy. This was a disturbing discovery.