Taken By Storm

by L. J. Vickery

  Lenore wasn’t quite buying it. She’d been lied to one time too many today. “I want to see him.” There. She could be reasonable.

  “Not just yet, okay?” Tess wrapped one hand around Lenore’s wrist, preventing her from misting.

  Lenore was incredulous! “Are you trying to stop me?”

  “It’s best you don’t disturb him right now.” Tess increased her grip as Lenore twisted and tried to pull away to no avail.

  “Like hell you’re going to stop me.” Lenore gave Tess a good hearty jab and got one in return. It escalated from there with a few well-placed slaps, and after a particularly snarky pull on Tess’s hair, Lenore heard Kulla’s broadcast. Cat fight outside boardroom! …and the hall was suddenly laden with gods.

  Tess eyed the assemblage and pulled Lenore close to whisper in her ear. “How would you like to play this?”

  Lenore controlled her smile and responded, “How do you think? Tell me where Anshar is, and I’ll go easy on you.”

  She could see Tess pondering, then the goddess lowered her voice even more. “The boys have had a tough day. Let’s give them a good show, and then I promise I’ll bring you to Anshar.”

  Lenore chuckled eagerly at the idea. “Any rules?”

  “No blows to the chest, but clothing is fair game.”

  “You’re on!” Lenore spun on her well-turned heel and flipped Tess to the floor, face first, going down to straddle her back, but Tess forced her shoulders upward, unseating Lenore far too easily. Lenore was able to maintain a hold on the waistband of Tess’s slacks, but pulled as she fell backward, tearing the material to reveal a petite, yet shapely backside where an orange thong was wedged between two smooth cheeks.

  Lenore, perched on the backs of Tess’s thighs, watched, detached as Marduk chose that moment to mist in and heard his growl of disapproval all the way down to her painted toenails.

  “No one should be ogling my wife’s fanny!” he roared. He tried to get to his bride, but his brothers, enjoying the show, viscously elbowed him back.

  Hah! Lenore snorted. Damned if the group wasn’t allowing the entertainment to continue.

  Lenore was brought back to the task at hand, when Tess bucked her legs, unseating her. Lenore sprawled backward, legs asunder, her tiny skirt doing little to hide her lacy-whites. Tess spun and, grabbing Lenore’s nearest foot, pulled to bring herself right up into her crotch. With a wink to Lenore that the boys couldn’t see, Tess reached up and ripped Lenore’s silk shirt from collar to belly button, revealing a white lace bra to match the panties.

  Tits and ass. A good appetizer for the gods, but Lenore wanted to up the girl-game they were playing. There needed to be a little gratuitous violence to satisfy this audience. She reached out with a hard right to Tess’s mouth and connected, splitting the other woman’s lip and sending blood flying. Tess responded by pounding downward on Lenore’s cheek, opening up a gash with what looked to be a sparkly new diamond ring. Lenore smirked. She’d have to get one of those. Who knew a little bling could be so useful?

  Sex and blood? Now Lenore could see that the gods were psyched. A little more grappling and the peanut gallery should be sated. Lenore had to give it to her fellow goddess. Tess took direction well, and they had choreographed like pros. A little tit squeezing here, a little more skin revealed there. Lenore was just about to yank down one cup of Tess’s bra when Marduk’s bellow stopped her dead.

  “Enough!” he boomed in her ear and appeared above her head, pulling the two women apart and hauling them both to their feet.

  “You!” He pointed to Lenore. “Go clean yourself up before Anshar awakes. And you,” he turned and eyeballed Tess hotly, from bloody lip to exposed ass, “you’re coming with me!” He grabbed her hand, and they disappeared.

  Lenore, despite her mussed and disheveled state, grinned broadly. She saw similar expressions on the rest of the god’s faces. One thing was certain. There’d be thunder and lightning aplenty before the sun went down tonight.

  Lenore was touched in the aftermath of the “ho”-down, when the remaining gods offered her an acquired shirt, then carefully averted their eyes and pointed Lenore to the nearest powder room. She grinned though her cheek burned. She’d needed a good fight to let off some steam and, despite Tess being hauled away, she’d be seeing her man soon enough. During the last part of the bout, her new female friend had told her where she could find Anshar.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lenore located her mate, sprawled on his stomach across his bed, a huge four-posted wonder. He was covered in a drenching sheen of sweat, sheets bunched all around. The shades were pulled, but Lenore saw his T-shirt in tatters on the floor. It looked like it had been ripped from his body. She didn’t know if Anshar recognized that she was in the room, but her name intoned as a chant on his lips.

  “Lenore. Lenore…”

  “Shh.” She went to him and sat beside his heaving body, putting a hand to one trembling shoulder. “It’s okay, big guy. I’m here.”

  As long as she was circumspect, and no sexual banter occurred, Dagon wouldn’t know if she touched the blond god, or not. Fuck him and his stupid rules, anyway.

  She wanted to ask Anshar why his friends had thought it necessary to sedate him but, feeling the small quakes that still passed through his body, she didn’t want to revisit the reason for his trauma. Was he prone to bouts of uncontrollable violence, or had they just been keeping him from following her to Plymouth? Considering Anshar’s state, her answers would have to wait.

  She ran her fingers through his long blond hair, usually so neatly tied into a ponytail, but now flowing freely in a sunburst array around his head. While her hands played, she took a curious look around. Besides the enormous Elizabethan four-poster, piled with blue comforter and pillows, an antique dresser and mirror to match graced the room, along with several well-used, almost threadbare chairs that Lenore was sure Anshar must have had when previously embodied. Who would have thought he’d keep things so obviously sentimental. As a reminder that she was still in the twenty-first century, a television that she could just see, hidden inside a one time, man’s wardrobe, and a pile of DVD’s laying haphazardly on the dresser, kept her linked to the present. Altogether, a very comfortable…and entirely masculine room.

  Lenore’s hand trailed across Anshar’s body which looked oddly golden in the darkened chamber. And what were those small, hard ridges she felt along his back? Surely just bunched muscles. Her fingers worked the knots, and she hummed a small song beneath her breath. Anshar loosened under her ministrations.

  “What’s that song?” he asked drowsily, taking Lenore by surprise. He’d seemed so tranquil during his massage that she’d thought he still slept.

  “Something my great grandmother use to sing to me when I was little.” Lenore had such fond memories of the family matriarch. She loved her mother and grandmother to pieces but had always felt a very deep connection, a harmony that couldn’t be described, with her great-gram.

  “When I got to feeling down or threw tantrums…” She’d been such a brat. Lenore chided herself in the dark. “Grand-gram was the one who would calm me down, and it was always with this song.” Lenore continued to stroke his back in long, soothing paths.

  “Sing more.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Lenore complied, and the bunched ridges softened even further, accompanied by Anshar’s deep sighs of contentment. He moved and she adjusted her touch as he turned over. Lenore thought of her new orders and enjoyed a smug moment. If that prick Dagon was listening in, he’d never know that her hands were as busy as her voice. In defiance, she stroked a little deeper.

  Gods, Anshar was magnificent. Maybe she could dare let her fingers move to more interesting places. She already knew he could do naughty and delightful things to her body. She nearly moaned just thinking about them. Would it be so bad if she tried to do the same thing for him?

  “I’m so legless right now,” the god groaned. “I feel like I drank some kind of drugged
wine.” He reached for her hand and pulled her down beside him, before she had a chance to think. “What you do to me, Lenore.” He touched her face, and she flinched. Ouch, she silently mouthed, as she saw his fingers draw away dark and wet.

  “What’s this?” He held up his hand.

  Lenore had forgotten her fight with Tess. She could see Anshar’s languid brain trying to process what he knew had to be blood. She laughed to reassure him.

  “Tess and I put on a little meow-fight for the boys downstairs.” Lenore grinned. “She got the split lip and a bared ass, I got this cheek gash and…” Lenore drew in a breath, then took his fingers, daring to place them against the exposed skin that peeked from above her bra. As long as she didn’t make any noise, Dagon wouldn’t know, and what Dagon didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt anyone. Anshar’s hand stilled, perhaps aware of where it was, then moved downward of its own volition and gently cupped her silk clad breast.

  It was then that Lenore saw blood that wasn’t her own. Dried rivulets of the stuff ran from Anshar’s silver cuff and down his arm. Without a word, and knowing that her nipple had beaded to a hard point in his hand, she allowed his palm to remain on her breast to keep his groggy head distracted, while she explored the jewelry that obviously wasn’t just adornment.

  Lenore reached one tentative finger up under the circlet and caught her breath. The inside, resting against his flesh, was barbed. Dare she ask why? No doubt this was another one of Anshar’s secrets. She looked at his face. He could barely form a sentence. His next words certainly confirmed that.

  “No energy to do things with this tit,” he mumbled, nuzzling where his hand cupped. “Sleep with me?”

  Lenore kicked off her shoes and, for Dagon’s benefit, if he was listening, said, “Just sleep,” then reached for the comforter. “Mmm.” She snuggled up close, Anshar’s wonderful ocean smell filling her nostrils. She was just about to drift off when she thought of something. “Anshar? Are you awake?”

  “Mmm, hmm.” He barely got the sound out.

  “Before you sleep, can you send a message to your brothers for me, since I’m not allowed? I’d like to meet up later tonight for a workout in the gym.”

  Work out. 7pm. Be there. Lenore heard Anshar’s slumberous request to the other immortals and was satisfied. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to his solid warmth.

  Anshar awoke several hours later, more relaxed than he could ever remember. A sense of rightness and well-being flowed around him, and…what? He inhaled deeply of orange blossoms and his dick hardened. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but his contentment was most assuredly because of the flushed bundle tucked up against his right side. Anshar heard her murmur in her sleep and watched as she twitched her little nose.

  Gods, how lucky he felt to have been given this woman as his Chosen. He supposed he should thank Dagon. Wait. That was crazy thinking. Anshar was pretty sure he was going to fucking murder Dagon for all the other infractions the bastard had perpetrated, but at the moment he couldn’t seem to get too worked up about it.

  He smiled. Funny how placid he felt, even thinking about Dagon…even knowing the hurdles he’d need to overcome to make Lenore completely his. At this very moment, life felt pretty good. He felt invincible.

  “Lenore.” he nudged her softly with his chin. When she raised her head, he planted a kiss on her brow. “Lenore, honey. Wake up.”

  “No,” she groused, snuggling deeper into the comforter.

  Ah. A grumpy waker.

  “You wanted to meet with the guys.” He dropped one hand and rubbed lazy circles on her hip where her short skirt had ridden up and bared some plump flesh.

  She moaned in irritation. “Fuck off,” she muttered sleepily. Then she bolted off the bed as if doused by hot lava.

  “Hands to yourself!” she screamed, then squirmed her skirt down into place and brushed the hair back off of her face.

  “But I’ve just woken up.” Anshar reached over and pulled at her until she tumbled back to the mattress, then he gasped with pleasure as he placed her fingers on his stiffened cock.

  She snatched them back like she’d encountered fire. “No! No! No!” She scooted off the bed again, pulling the covers with her. “No touching!”

  Anshar felt so glorious that he couldn’t even argue.

  “Okay for now,” he agreed amiably. “Let’s get you a new shirt.” He yawned and eyed her speculatively as she tried to draw the remnants of her top together. He rose easily from the bed. “Shower’s that way.” He pointed toward a door while pulling on a T-shirt. “I’ll go retrieve your things from your campsite…the one that you won’t be using again.” He gave her a pointed look, daring her to say she wanted to be back in the woods.

  She didn’t answer but thrust up her mutinous little chin and walked toward the bathroom.

  Anshar shook his head. Gods, he loved that attitude. Was she happy or just resigned that he was moving her in with him? He couldn’t tell because he was no longer privy to her thoughts. Which led to a second question. Did she feel relieved or bereft that he couldn’t hear her? He knew how he felt. He missed her voice in his head.

  It didn’t take Anshar long to mist out to pick up Lenore’s things and bring them back to his room. He could hear the shower running and debated joining her. No. They’d be late meeting the guys in the gym and assaulted with all kinds of ribald jests and good-natured ribbing about what they’d been doing to make themselves late. Besides, Lenore had called the meeting, and there’d be plenty of time for fooling around later.

  “I’ll see you down in the gym,” Anshar called in to her and thought he heard her drop the soap. He left his suite, laughing.

  Anshar’s feet materialized on the mat in the gym, and he was elated to think he would be able to sweat again, spar, and feel things. Another gift from Lenore. The rest of the gods had already convened. Absu and Enlil were giving more tips to Tess on self-defense, while Huxley, her brother looked on and laughed each time Tess pulled a flawless move and downed one of the big men. True to form, the rest of the deities were making bets on which god would hit the floor more times. Anshar was itching for some action.

  “Marduk,” he called, as Tess grappled with Enlil. “Do me the honor?” He affected a fighting stance. Marduk grinned.

  “You know I always used to kick your ass,” the thunder god warned.

  “So I recall, but I’m feeling particularly well rested, and methinks your goddess may have worn you out,” Anshar countered.

  Marduk raised his eyebrows, and Anshar gave a small, negative shake of his head. He knew what Marduk was asking. Had he and Lenore consummated their bond? Anshar lunged in to grapple close, as all of the other gods paired off as well to go through invisible motions.

  “Hasn’t happened yet,” he confided in Marduk’s ear. “But I’ve hit on an idea.” He grunted with the effort of holding the thunder god. “I’m wondering if I can borrow the chains from the basement so Lenore can have some control.”

  Marduk twisted Anshar to the side, kicked his legs out from underneath him, and slammed him to the mat.

  “Not a good idea,” the god breathed back. “Not until we know if she can be fully trusted.” Marduk maneuvered Anshar into a near-side cradle but failed to tighten around him quickly enough.

  Anshar slipped his arm out, slamming his elbow back into Marduk’s sternum before leaping back to his feet. They were dancing around each other, looking for openings, when Lenore misted in.

  With Lenore’s arrival, all fighting immediately ceased, and eyes turned to her.

  She moved forward with paper and pen in hand, but dropped them when she spotted the big white board on the wall and fairly skipped over to it. She wrote, in big letters.

  Continue to spar and make it loud!

  The gods looked puzzled, but Tess was quick on the uptake.

  “Hey, Lenore! Looking good in your workout duds, but pink? Really? Makes me all the more certain I’m going to kick your behind!”

  �
��Oh, yeah?” Lenore spoke and wrote at the same time.

  I’m 99 percent sure Dagon is listening right now. Come on guys, move it!

  “You just guaranteed that I’m going to spread your bitch-assness all over this gym!”

  Tess waved her hands toward the guys like a conductor, and the immortals began stomping around, huffing and grunting. It was all Lenore could do not to laugh.

  “So how was your meeting with Dagon, after he stuffed you into the collar and shut us out?” Tess attempted to sound innocent.

  Lenore wrote,

  Dagon used the collar to order me not to talk about our meeting and also not to tell you he can hear everything I hear. Hah! I’m not talking, I’m writing. I’m also supposed to convince Marduk, Enlil, Anshar, and Tess to leave the compound tomorrow at two o’clock. I think he’s planning some kind of ambush.

  Anshar looked dumbfounded, but oddly none of the others seemed surprised. Lenore wondered what was up with that.

  “Hey! Watch the crotch, baby. That kick was a little too close for comfort!” Lenore said, then answered Tess’s previous question for Dagon’s benefit. “Dagon’s a prick. He just wanted to boss me around a little. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Lenore pretend panted, mimed a body slam, and pointed to Anshar. He pounded his body to the floor, making her smile. She was pretty sure Dagon would be having a fit, hearing her call him a prick. It served him right.

  Worse news, he’s holding my mother and grandmother hostage in Plymouth to ensure my cooperation.

  Dead silence greeted that admission, and she whipped her arms around to get the gods moving again. She finished her revelation out loud.

  “Unfortunately, the asshole told me I’m not allowed to touch, lick, suck, or fuck Anshar. How’s that for some collar control?”

  Lenore went back to writing.

  But for some reason, he couldn’t use the collar for that order, which is why he has my folks hostage and why he’s listening in to make sure Anshar and I don’t get close.

  “So if anybody would like to ‘work me out,’ I’m free territory to everyone but Anshar, so come and get me!” She pouted at the blond god. It wasn’t the best way to let him know of the hands off situation, but better now than in the heat of things. Sure enough, Anshar looked pissed. At least he knew why she had been so adamant earlier that he not touch her.