“Lenore. Will you join me for a few minutes?”
She was hot to face off with Anshar in the basement but, Lenore sighed, she would make nice for Dagon, never doubting that maybe some calm-down time might be prudent. “Sure. But after we’re done, I’ll feed the prisoner today.”
“No need, my dear. Matthew is taking care of it.” He actually chuckled. “Seems like a god who’s been invisible for a few hundred years will eat just about anything and think it’s gourmet.”
The prisoner in question was also aware of her arrival.
Glad your home, sweetheart. He drawled. Could you bring me the sports section and a brewski when you get a chance?
Lenore flipped him a mental bird and received a chuckle for her troubles.
I’ll be down to talk to you as soon as I’m finished with Dagon, she informed him.
Can’t wait, baby. Jonesing for another look at your…hand. He cut her off dead without letting her—again—get the last word. He would pay!
Dagon looked at Lenore, knowingly. “Still haven’t got the hang of shutting him out, eh? I’ll use that to my advantage.” Opening his mind, Dagon called to Anshar. Will you mentally join my little meeting with Lenore? You’ll be interested in what I have planned.
Even though Anshar did not answer, he was listening in. Lenore, who had heard Dagon’s invitation, felt Anshar’s presence.
“You’ve done well in your training,” Dagon began, indicating that Lenore should have a seat opposite him, as he sat in one of two, upholstered Queen Anne wing chairs. “Now it’s time to move on with your assignment.”
Lenore was excited. She knew she hadn’t been given these new powers lightly. Hell, if Dagon had thought she wasn’t highly capable, he could have put the amulet in someone else’s shoulder.
Lenore, baby. You’ve got that one wrong— Anshar stepped into her thoughts.
You will be silent during this meeting! Dagon commanded the imprisoned god.
Lenore winced. The collar was clearly doing its work to make Anshar obey.
“I can’t have him interrupting us every two seconds,” Dagon told Lenore. “He’s such a busy body. Anyway, where was I?” He pulled at this cuffs. “Oh, yes. Your new duties.” Lenore sat forward in anticipation.
“I’ll be letting Anshar go after lunch.” Lenore was not surprised. Dagon had said as much a few days ago. “And you will be sticking to him like glue on macaroni.”
Lenore had to bite her tongue. Dagon had told her about the human whose thoughts he’d sucked to get brought up to date on the twenty-first century, but macaroni and glue? Dagon really should have culled someone a little more discerning.
Her boss continued.
“If they haven’t begun already, my immortal nemeses in the Blue Hills will soon be dispatching to the winds to find more ancestors who will help them gain their material selves. I want to know about each and every lead they uncover, so I can have our men on it as fast as possible. The object for us is to find and retrieve these women before the gods do.” He paused and tented his fingers.
“You, being attached by amulet, will have access to all the information that is imparted to Anshar, at which point you will pass it on to me. I will make the appropriate moves.”
Lenore could almost hear Anshar scoffing in the basement. Well, let him scoff. He’d find out soon enough that she was Dagon’s employee, and she wasn’t about to play fair.
“Will I be able to infiltrate the gods’ home?” Lenore was still trying to figure out her rules of engagement.
“I don’t want you to. I’d like to keep you a secret for now. You’ll set up camp in the woods outside their security perimeter and listen in, courtesy of Anshar, whose frequency you share.”
“But he’s found a way to shut me out, even though I can’t get rid of him,” Lenore admitted bitterly.
Dagon laughed. “I will remedy that.” He rubbed his hands together, relishing his power.
Dagon could feel Anshar squirming in the basement. Gods, this was fun.
“I expect Marduk to dispatch Anshar on these searches for more women, and you will accompany him in any capacity you want.” Dagon watched Lenore’s face carefully, looking for any sign of…anticipation? Desire? That was the only wild card in Dagon’s planning. If Lenore somehow became infatuated with Anshar, she could swap alliances and start working for the other guys. Dagon needed to think on that. For now, he saw nothing on her face but a hint of displeasure. That was good.
“Ow!” Lenore’s head cracked back and an angry red mark rose on her right cheek. “What the—” She brought a hand up in confusion.
Dagon watched Lenore’s eyes flood with pain and knew instantly what was happening.
“Matthew.” Dagon got to his feet, looking resigned. He motioned for Lenore to follow him from the room and talked over his shoulder as they headed to the basement.
“I might have forgotten to mention that you and Anshar will now share pain and—other feelings—for a period of time until you both learn to control it. If he is hurt, you will feel it, and if you are hurt, well…” He stopped and looked back, just in time to see her head snap and her eye begin to swell. Dammit, Matthew was taking a few too many liberties.
Apparently Lenore thought so, too. She was trying to pass Dagon in the narrow hallway, forgetting that she had the ability to mist. She was too intent on decimating Matthew to recall all of her skills.
“Stop for a moment!” Dagon grabbed her arm and made her look into his face. “Listen to me. Most importantly, if either of you dies, the other follows. For that, there is no choice.” Blood began to drip from Lenore’s chin, as if a blade were being applied. “Do you understand?” Dagon demanded, needing this to sink in.
“Yeah. I do.” Lenore nearly spat into his face. “So what’s the down side?” And before Dagon could move, Lenore had picked him up by the lapels and lifted him out of the way. He smiled evilly…in a proud way. The only dead man today might just be Matthew.
Anshar blazed with vindication as Lenore burst into the basement room. He watched her through a haze of pain, but Matthew was either unaware of her entrance or simply couldn’t be bothered to spare her a glance. There was no doubt that the human male had been waiting for an opportunity to knock the sarcastic humor and good looks out of Anshar, and he wasn’t about to waste any time with interruptions. Knowing the properties of the collar around Anshar’s neck, Matthew had ordered the god not to move and had begun hammering on him with glee.
When a few hits hadn’t made a dent in the taunting smile plastered across Anshar’s face, Matthew had unsheathed his osmium blade. The cut that had been made on the god’s chin was meant as a sampling of pain yet to come.
Anshar’s eyes flicked to Lenore. Yup. She was sporting a shiner just like his, but the thing was, looking at her eye and the cut on her chin, Anshar found he didn’t like it one little bit. He didn’t want marks on her lovely face, even if they would heal within a few hours. He didn’t want her feeling pain. His body now angrily struggled to be free. Blast it all to hell. Nobody hurt his woman! But because of the fucking collar, Anshar was unable to move.
The god watched Matthew’s hand draw back with the knife poised to plunge into his throat, but the human’s wrist was abruptly caught in an iron grip. Anshar watched the male spin to face whoever had dared to stop him, only to be met with the irate visage of Lenore, snarling and dripping blood.
“What happened? Who…”
Anshar almost laughed. Matthew couldn’t form words.
“You douche-bag!” Lenore backed slightly and rammed her head into the stuttering human’s solar plexus. When Matthew bent over in pain, she hammered her cranium up hard under his chin, and his eyes lost focus.
“Tell me I can move, Lenore,” Anshar begged. “I’ll finish the bastard!”
“Don’t bother your pretty little head,” she said, not even out of breath. A double-handed chop to the back of Matthew’s neck had him going down, and not in a fun way. Once on the fl
oor, Lenore kicked him in the gut for good measure. When she was through, she turned to assess the damage done to Anshar.
“Colorful face,” she quipped, moving her own jaw from right to left. “I suppose I look the same.”
Anshar was going to lie, but thought better of it. “Bookends,” he nodded, appreciating that she wasn’t one to panic, then added, “Can I move now?”
“Sit on the table, while I dispose of Matthew.” Anshar found his feet moving and his backside headed for the slab. Dammit! Once he was out of this infernal place, he was never following orders again.
He fidgeted as much as he was able while Lenore lifted the groaning load of human and swept past Dagon, who was standing in the doorway. He sensed she went down a hall, up some steps, then pushed open a bulkhead door and dumped Matthew, like so much trash, out on the back lawn. Served the cretin right.
Dagon moved closer, shutting the door—through which Lenore had left—behind him.
Anshar’s eyes narrowed. This couldn’t be good.
“Now that I’m through giving Lenore her orders, I have some for you,” Dagon crooned. The door he’d closed began to open.
Lenore. Go upstairs. Anshar groaned as Dagon gave the order. I have business with Anshar. I’ll hand him over to you when I’m finished.
The door latch snicked closed. Anshar started to rise.
“Stay seated!” Anshar was compelled to obey the command, albeit with gritted teeth. “While you’re still under my control, I have a few more ultimatums to issue.”
Anshar seethed quietly, knowing that whatever Dagon told him to do while he wore the collar, would still bind him even after it came off.
“Why don’t you just tell me to kill all my friends and be done with it?” Anshar was only partially kidding. A fight to the death would end the nightmare he’d entered into; halving his amulet with Lenore and saddling him with a wife who was the enemy. But he couldn’t let that happen. If his god friends killed him, their actions would kill Lenore too.
“I’m fully aware that pitting you against them would result in your death.
Did Dagon actually titter?
“…I like my chances, better, with you locating more god-blooded women. With your reluctant help, and Lenore keeping me apprised, I will find and imprison all of those women before your friends can get to them. I’m already setting up outposts, in all corners of New England, full of underlings willing to do my bidding. Money and evil have a way of finding each other so, if need be, I shouldn’t have trouble branching out to anywhere in the country.”
Anshar waited, seething inside. Dagon’s diabolical plan to keep the gods from finding their Chosen, infuriated him. If it was the last thing Anshar ever did, he’d find a way to make his twisted captor pay.
“As for you, my dear cousin,” Anshar winced to hear their relation mentioned, “Listen carefully to my orders. You will not let Lenore know that the amulet has anything to do with being mated to you. Right now she just thinks it gave her powers, and that because it was yours she shares, that she can’t get you out of her head. You will not apprise her that she is your Chosen nor, if she hears the term, will you enlighten her as to the meaning.” Dagon looked pointedly at Anshar.
“It’s your business what you tell your brothers,” he sneered the word. “But if and when they become aware of Lenore, you are to swear each of them to secrecy where the amulet ceremony is concerned, or you alone will suffer pain like the fires of hell in your chest.” He tapped his lip, as if reading Anshar’s thoughts.
“Loophole,” he declared, triumphantly. “Marduk’s woman, Tess, and her brother are also to be sworn to secrecy. Hah! You thought you almost had me on that one. And just to level the playing field,” Dagon’s grin was so frigging annoying, “since our little Lenore cannot seem to find a way to block you from her thoughts, you will no longer have the power to block her from yours. That means she will be privy to everything you think. And,” Dagon seemed gleeful while Anshar shot daggers from his eyes. “You will not tell anyone that Lenore can hear your every thought and the conversations that will take place around you.”
Now Dagon refused to meet his eyes.
Did Anshar detect a moment of…sympathy before his cousin turned away?
“I will make one concession.” Dagon cleared his throat. “As long as you can hide your…infirmity…from her, I will let you cloak it—and any thoughts surrounding it—from her mentally.” He obviously felt embarrassed offering this scrap to Anshar.
The all sky god growled. “Doing yourself a favor, Dagon?”
The dark god knew what Anshar was asking but refused to answer. He finished issuing his orders instead.
“Now, call Lenore down, and she can set you free. I’ve had this collar reworked with a simple number lock so she’ll be able to remove it easily.” Dagon turned to go. “Behave yourself with her,” he said, turning serious. “If you hurt her in any way…”
“…I hurt myself.” Anshar finished, not wanting Dagon to know that the last thing on earth he would ever do was cause pain to his Chosen.
“Exactly so.” Dagon left the room.
Anshar let out a deep breath. It was time to see how he and his new bride would go on from here. Come to me, woman. Anshar called out to Lenore. He was more than ready to leave. He never wanted to see Plymouth again.
Neanderthals rarely get what they demand. Try again, fuck-head.
Anshar chuckled fatalistically. Okay. He should have known better. He strove for patience and played nice. May I have the honor of your presence in helping me to divest myself of these shackles? He’d used his courtly voice; the one that had been known to send a few hearts aflutter in old Merrymount…even if he’d never done anything about it. He actually felt Lenore’s what? Miss a beat? Hmm. Not so immune after all.
It was the three cups of coffee I had earlier, ass-wipe. The only thing you’ll send aflutter is my trigger finger!
Damn! He’d forgotten. Per Dagon’s order, Lenore could now monitor his every thought.
Welcome to my world, Lenore mumbled. I’ll be down in a minute. Keep your dick on.
Anshar did that…and also kept his head perfectly empty…and waited.
The smell of orange blossoms filled the room as Lenore breezed in. She was all business and managed to keep her brain annoyingly off-line by cyphering numbers as she leaned up to Anshar and entered the code to open his collar.
“And why couldn’t I have figured out that you knew the combination to this lock and picked your brain earlier?” Anshar groused. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Yes, you are,” Lenore said, agreeing far too easily, then stuck out her adorable little tongue while working the numbers. Adorable little…ah, shit! It was too late. She’d heard him and quickly sucked the appendage back in.
She sighed and propped herself closer, having some trouble getting the lock to open, and the longer she took, the more difficult it was for Anshar to keep his cock’s reaction to her nearness under control.
“Why are you chanting ‘dead-demons, dead-demons, dead-demons,’ in your head?” Lenore questioned.
“Because your refreshingly soft and fragrant breasts are brushing my arm.” Anshar could be nothing but honest, since she’d know what he was thinking anyway. Was that a blush? “I’m simply trying to distract my erection.”
She backed away as if burnt, but the last number had already clicked into place. The collar followed her fingers away.
“There. You’re loose. Go.” She was blushing beautifully but shooed him away like an annoying gnat.
“Not so fast.” He reached for her arm and wrapped his fingers around it, having the strangest sensation that a warm hand had just surrounded his flesh too. This physical connection was going to take some getting used to…or some trial and error.
“Just a little experiment before I leave.” He drew her over to the wall and pushed her back up against the cold stones. A shiver went up both of their spines.
Anshar planted his hands on
either side of her head and looked down into her eyes. An odd feeling entered his chest. He knew her nipples were getting hard for him.
Not for you, Lenore blustered. For the cold wall touching my back.
But there could be no lies between them, and as he lowered his head for a kiss, he could feel those solid points arching toward him. Heady evidence that belied her curt dismissal. That, and the fact that Lenore was trying to make herself taller in those ridiculous heels.
“They’re not ridiculous,” she protested weakly, just as his lips claimed hers. Her small exhalation was captured by his mouth, and he groaned in response. Holy hell! Her lips were exquisite. Screw the cold wall. He pulled her with him, away from the stones, sinking her lush ass onto the edge of the table, and wedging between her legs. Neither could deny that they were acutely aroused. Anshar because of a raging hard-on, and Lenore because he looked into her mind and knew it to be so.
You’re right. I can’t deny being so wet.
Anshar pulled his head up sharply.
“You’re wet?” He felt his eyes going black. “For me?” His hand moved from her waist to the hem of her short skirt, his hand blazing a trail across the front of her thigh. Before she could protest, he delved under her clothing and came to rest at a small scrap of silk that he knew was pink as its color flashed in Lenore’s brain.
He moved no farther, showing great restraint, and only imagined lifting the gossamer material away and brushing across soft blonde curls with his thumb before coming to rest on her most sensitive spot. He could see that was just what she wanted. And gods knew, he wanted to give her that. But he couldn’t do it. He could already feel the burn at his back and knew that, without the collar and restraints to hold him back, he would lose control and change before her eyes, possibly hurting his mate. It was a chance he couldn’t take.
Thanks to Dagon, Anshar was capable of keeping his debilitating secret.
Lenore was unable to get a read on his thoughts, and she was simply disoriented and confused as Anshar removed his hand from the edge of her panties. He felt her disappointment as he thrust her body from his. Her pain at his rejection, and his helplessness to combat his own fucked-up shit, nearly brought him to his knees. He maintained a grip on Lenore’s upper arms and attempted to calm himself.
Taken By Storm Page 5
