by M F Adele
“Try naw ta be so hard on ‘im.” The smack to the inside of my left thigh struck my pussy as well. The sting of the landing had me panting and frustrated. “We all would’ve done the same thing ta keep ya safe. Especially if we’d all had the time between us dat you and York have had. Don’t ya think for a moment that a single one of us would sit back and let anyone torture you when we could take yer place. We all feel dat way.” His soft Irish accent grew thicker with the honesty and emotion in his voice.
The final blow was two quick strikes against my nipples that had me wishing I could do something more than lose my eyes in the back of my head. He dropped the crop on the floor when he reached the foot of my bed. Crawling up slowly between my legs, he rubbed his clothed body on my naked skin, until he was leaning over me. The kiss he gave me had the intensity of a tornado, wrecking my mouth and destroying my mind. “When ya make up with York, I’ll give ya what ya really want,” he promised after he pulled away. I couldn’t remember what I really wanted. I was pretty fucking close to forgetting my name.
Palmer slid back down my body, giving me a hellish grin. His tongue felt like satin as he lapped at my clit, and I could do nothing to show my appreciation. I tried to moan, but I still had no voice. I tried to squirm, but I had no freedom to move. I could only endure his form of punishment. If this is what happens when I get mad, I’m going to stay mad.
The fingers on his right hand eased around the entrance of my core, sending me into a spiraling feeling of bliss. He pushed two of those gloriously long fingers inside me and curled them like he was trying to touch his tongue. I’m a few “come here's” away from cumming right here. His fingers were fucking magical. When he felt my walls tighten around him, Palmer nipped lightly at my clit before sucking the bundle of nerves between his lips. That was all it took for the air to rush from my lungs. His hold on the silencing spell dropped, and my newfound voice cracked as I screamed his name.
When my orgasm finally subsided, his eyes roved over my body one last time. He held a mischievous glint in those stormy grey orbs that I didn’t quite like. He got off my bed in an exaggerated pace before leaning over me to lay a brief, tender kiss on my lips. Then, he winked at me and moved for the door, only stopping to toss over his shoulder, “Now, be a good girl,” he urged. “I don’t like goin’ back on my word, and it’s getting harder to maintain my promises.” He adjusted the wondrous bulge in his khakis as he turned the knob to my bedroom door.
He was gone before I could say anything. I was still naked, chained to my fucking bed. In magical chains! I’d never seen anything like these infernal things. I couldn’t break or bend them. I can’t even move! I could hear him laughing as he walked out of my suite, leaving all the doors open behind him. I shouted with a snarl, “You rotten fucking Irish bastard!” His laughter increased, and I growled in a very unladylike way to release the frustration I was feeling.
A set of footsteps halted my tangent of creative curses. They were too heavy to be Novak or Stone, too light to be Briggs or Vaughn. York. Fuck my life right now. He knocked casually on my door. “Come in,” I conceded begrudgingly. His head popped around the corner, the smile dropping from his face as he took in my predicament.
“I was going to see if you wanted to join me in the greenhouse, but I can see you're a little tied up. I’ll just, uhm, come back later.” He bit his lips together, and I wasn’t sure if it was to fight a smile or to stop talking.
“I’m going to kill that fucking Mage,” I whispered to myself. “If you can get me out of these chains I’d be happy to accompany you to the greenhouse.” That’s a half truth. Would I go? Yes. Would I be happy about it? Mmm, that was debatable.
“Sure thing, Sweetheart.” He walked over and uncinched the cuffs like they were just plain old leather constraints from the adult toy store. When I was free of my confinement I looked them over, searching for sigils or magic symbols. There’s nothing on them.
Fuck it. I grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt, dressing as I followed York to his favorite room in the house. I dreaded the conversation that would come with this, but my anger was focused elsewhere at the moment. He opened the door and closed it soundlessly behind me. The dim nighttime lights flickered on as we proceeded deeper into the Druid’s personal wonderland. He stopped in the center of the room and turned to face me, his apology clear on his face before the words rolled off his tongue. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I don’t want to talk about it anymore until you’re ready.” He held his hand out to me and gave a half smile. “Would you like to dance? It’s been ages since we-”
“Yes,” I cut in, taking his hand. “What are we dancing to?”
“Frank?” He questioned. I didn’t know if he was addressing Franklin or answering my question with another, but soon the music started up. Frank Sinatra’s Something Stupid playing just loud enough to hear the words. The near perfect words. He stepped to the beat and I followed his graceful lead. His right hand gripped my left tightly. His left hand rested on the dip in my waist, and my right hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He closed his eyes as we swayed around the small, empty space in the center of the greenhouse.
We used to dance for hours between the path and open space of the greenhouse. This song and this moment brings back a rush of memories. My chest tightened painfully as a tear rolled down my cheek. Despite everything that had gone on, and gone wrong, it was things like this that showed me how simple everything could be. This. This is my York. Sweet, romantic, understanding.
We spent hours dancing, just the two of us reliving our past together. The songs changed tempo and we switched our steps, moving in sync like we always did. The bond between us was unmistakable now that I knew what to look for. I could feel his emotions as strongly as my own. His regret, pain, happiness, contentment, and exhaustion all took root in my soul. When the playlist ended he gazed down at me. The corners of his lips tilted slightly as his thumbs wiped at the tears trailing down my cheeks.
This was what we needed. It was where we should’ve started. It’s where we always started when we argued. He leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” His hushed breath was tired and filled with sadness.
“I’m sorry too,” I confessed quietly to his retreating back.
“I know,” I heard him admit. His contentment sprouted, growing stronger and overshadowing his sadness and pain. I heard him descend the stairs, and when I was finally alone I peeked around the humid room. The plants looked healthier than they did when we entered. I swayed to the music still repeating in my head, circling the brick path and singing quietly to myself...
“I can see it in your eyes,
that you despise the same old lies
you heard the night before.
And though it's just a line to you,
for me it's true,
it never seemed so right before.
I practice every day to find some clever lines
to say to make the meaning come true.”
Sloane
Tuesday Early Morning
Singing to myself grew lonesome in the still greenhouse, so I decided to enjoy the leftover night outside. I putzed down the stairs one by one, watching the motion lights flicker on every eighth step, all the way to the basement floor. I stripped out of my clothes and soundlessly dove into the deep end of the pool. I didn’t come up for breath until I was beyond the glass wall separating the indoor section from the outside. When I spotted Novak sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the water, I felt the instant relief of having company after everything the night had thrown at me.
The water was warm and welcoming as I floated on my back, gaining me the perfect view of the night sky above. Helios was stretched out beside Novak, to my surprise. He’s always been a sucker for an ear scratch though. The Vampire ran the fingers of his left hand through the dense reddish fur of Helios’ English Mastiff form in slow, even strokes as he looked out into the woods. “You make up with
York yet, Trouble?” His whispered question had me flipping over to stand and look at him.
“Sort of,” I admitted. Was I still mad? A little. Was I getting over it? Yeah. I started wading through the water, feeling a strong urge to be closer to him. Helios huffed smoke at me, becoming irate when I interrupted Novak’s attention.
“I can hear some of your thoughts now, since he opened your bond back up.” Novak continued with his gently spoken words, never stopping his rhythmic motions as he petted the hellhound’s head. “Your chest is glowing,” he added, looking down at me where I stood in front of him and pointing with his right index finger.
He’s right. In between my breasts was a symbol I’d never noticed before. It was similar to a V, the usual straight lines bowed with the tops pointed out. A small, solid dot sat at the bottom and top left, almost touching the main symbol. It’s my mate mark. The mark of a Druid. As I stared down in awe at it, the glowing white light faded until it left a shimmering residue behind. The longer I looked on, the more that glittering effect paled. The color stayed with it after the glow left, making it look like an inch-long, white tattoo.
“I wonder where the rest of our marks will go when you get them,” Novak mused out loud.
“I wonder how we’ll even find a mark on you, or Briggs, with all those tattoos covering your skin.” I countered his musings with my own and he grinned at me.
“I guess you’ll have to search my body like an “ISpy” book,” he chuckled.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind that,” I confessed while eyeing his shirtless torso. “I haven’t really been able to get a good look at what’s going to be on your body for centuries,” I grimaced, faking disgust when I spoke. We both cackled, causing Helios to growl as he stood and walked away. He left scorch marks on the concrete around the pool with each step, and I shouted at him, “Don’t you dare burn my grass!” As soon as his paws touched the earth, little circles of fire appeared under them. All the way around the side of the house. That asshole!
I pushed myself up to sit on the edge of the pool beside Novak, and he laid his shirt down with such speed I nearly missed the movement. Instead of my bare ass hitting the rough surface, I ended up sitting on his worn, cotton t-shirt. It's thoughtful shit like this that keeps a bitch on her toes, you know?
I rested my head on his shoulder while he leaned his cheek against my wet hair. We sat, unmoving, and watched the sunrise begin to streak across the night sky. The navy backdrop, speckled with glistening stars, gave way to my favorite sight in the world. Twilight merged into purple, followed by fiery oranges, neon pinks, and brilliant reds. The sun peeked over the mountain landscape, slowly bringing light to the darkened woods around us.
“You never opened this.” Novak’s hypnotizing voice rang out loudly after all the chirping of the crickets had quieted. He casually handed me a crisp, white envelope with “Ms. King” handwritten on the front.
“What is it?” I examined the parcel as I inquired about its contents.
“It’s the letter that was left in the busted safe in David Preston’s office.” He glanced at me before returning his attention to the morphing sky.
“I don’t really want to open it,” I admitted reluctantly, “But I guess now’s as good a time as any.” I slid my nail along the seal, tearing the paper to expose the inside. With careful hands I pulled the letter from the envelope and gasped as a piece of gold fell onto my lap. Novak caught it before it tumbled into the pool. I could only stare wide eyed at it. Memories swirled around my mind with the single look I got. I know what it is, but I won’t get my hopes up.
“This belonged to your Mother,” the Vampire at my side stated.
“How do you know?” I fought to keep the panic I felt from rising. There’s no reason to freak out. Calm down, Sloane. You have to pencil freak outs into your schedule. You don’t have time for this kind of shit.
“I told you earlier,” he reiterated. “I can hear more of your thoughts. Before, I could only hear a word or two from time to time. But just then, I was able to get a glimpse of your memory,” he confirmed. “I saw you, as a little girl, staring at a picture of a woman who looks so much like you. She was wearing a necklace. The gold chain held this charm,” he unclamped his fingers and dropped the charm into my hand. “and three others.”
“She never took that necklace off.” I sucked in a breath and thought of Father’s current search. “It doesn’t change anything though. She could still be alive, or she could have been dead for many years. Whoever sent this could’ve been waiting for the right time to bait me. I can’t jump into anything blindly.” I rubbed my forehead with my free hand. “There’s so much going on and even more to do. I need to call Papi.”
“Read the letter first. Then we’ll call him.” He took the empty envelope and the charm from me, freeing up my hands. I unfolded the letter with a surgeon's precision, unsure if it held anything else.
Ms. King,
It seems that the Fates have decided our paths shall finally cross. I do look forward to meeting you, but I thought a friendly warning might serve you well.
You see, I have something that you're going to want. In return, I would’ve asked that you stop your investigation into my business endeavors.
We both have the Sight to see that won’t happen, so I’m giving you a deadline. If you want what I have then you’ll have to find me before the next new moon.
While you search tirelessly for me, I’ll enjoy watching you fail. Every move you make, I will have someone there to stop your best efforts. You will not win.
We’ve already had unprecedented success with eradicating shifters. I’m moving on to the next species. Catch me if you can, Little King.
Sincerely,
Mr. Moore
“What the fuck?” I angrily whispered to myself. Novak snatched the letter from my hand and read through the handwritten threat. The chicken-scratch writing was difficult — but not impossible — to read. Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to!? I’m Sloane motherfucking King. I do NOT lose.
“Calm yourself,” Novak chided, clearly hearing my current thought process. “There’s plenty to be learned from this letter, and there’s a possibility that Palmer can trace it.”
“Like what? That he’s proper because he signed it sincerely,” I fumed. I wasn’t mad enough to skip mocking the Fae accent when I said proper though.
“No, Trouble. You're pissed and you're not thinking straight,” he confronted me without a hint of regret. I fucking love that he’s not tiptoeing around this. He was right though. I needed to calm down and think this through. Think, bitch. “He knows you won’t give up, so he’s had to switch his tactics,” Novak started.
“And, he has to be in contact with a high ranking demon to have access to the Fates,” I theorized. “He’s also using someone with Sight. That’s a vampire trait, not a fae or mage trait.”
“Right. We found out about the potential next target with no hints from him,” Novak smirked at me. “And,” he dragged out, “It sounds like he thinks you’re doing this by yourself. He doesn’t know that you have mates. He’s not counting the people who will stand by your side.” His eyes spoke volumes as he picked apart the short letter.
“You’re right.” I tilted my head to the left, thinking through all the information. He's very right.
“I read the copy of your letter from Nathaniel, the one that Palmer has. I think he was on to something. It’s time to start building alliances, and we’re going to start with the Vampires when we go to Baton Rouge.” He was so certain and confident, but I needed to know if he knew what he was saying. I knew how I felt, and I knew the difference, now, between my feelings and the bond’s urges. The feeling of giddiness when he nudged me with his shoulder was ridiculous, but all mine. The need to be closer to him earlier was the bond trying to pull us together.
“Are you sure, Novak? I don’t want us to rush into anything that you may regret later.” The look he gave me could’ve had half of Hel
l frozen in its tracks.
“I’m positive,” he affirmed. “I was before reading that letter, I will be tomorrow, and I won’t change my mind in a hundred years.” He leaned down and gave me a chaste kiss. “If you're getting cold feet, you should take them out of the water,” he advised.
“You know that’s a saying about marriage and…” I paused as a provoking grin split his handsome face. “Oh. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” I humorlessly supplied.
“Call your Pops. Let’s make it almost official,” he insisted, the smile never leaving his full lips.
“Pah-Pee,” I corrected him, slowly sounding the name out.
“Papi,” he repeated, sounding amused with himself. “Don’t try to stall now,” he joked.
I smiled big at him, flashing a little fang, and he rolled his golden eyes. Lifting my right hand between us, I summoned a flame the size of a softball with my intent solely focused on Papi. Communication by hellfire was some of the first magic I learned as a child. Jack and I would talk to each other this way from our separate rooms, well past our bedtime. We were such rebels.
I called quietly into the hellfire floating above my palm, “Papi, are you awake? Is this a bad time?”
His response took no more than 20 seconds. “Of course not, My Sweet Little Devil,” Papi answered as his face appeared in the fireball. “Is everything okay?” His brows and forehead creased in his concern. He waited patiently for me to speak, but I didn’t know where to begin.
“I don’t want to tell him about the letter yet.” I sent the thought to Novak and he squeezed my thigh in reply.
“There’s a ton of things going on, Sir.” Novak leaned his head next to mine so Papi could see us both. “We were able to recover the Druid and shut down the power farm he was being held at.” That’s a good start for information.
