Such Violent Delights: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology
Page 35
“What the hell are you?” I panted, dancing away from the claws on the end of those flailing limbs.
“My mother was a simple mountain ogre, or so I’ve been told. She was raped in the goblin wars and left me at the door to the Unseelie court to find my people.”
Not a small ogre then, but a tall goblin. Shit. Goblins had their own magic, not just glamor, but the kind of magic that moves stone. The kind of power that could hollow out a room like the one we were in.
He licked his lips, spittle sticking in foamy clumps as he grinned malevolently at me. “You’re a Seelie girl, ain’t ya.” He made it a statement, not a question, so I didn’t bother to answer.
He glanced to my right, and I rolled left as a piece of the ceiling fell where I’d been standing. Double shit. More stone fell, and with each new attack, I could see him drawing closer. The real danger was at the end of those claws. Goblin claws are serrated for tearing their prey, and some produce poison. I hadn’t seen the telltale wet gleam of poison, but I kept my distance to be sure.
“You kept a trapped Fae captive and killed or sold her children. You’re a monster.” I danced back again, glancing behind me for other attackers. The glance cost me, and when I turned back, Rongo was within reach, his claws swiping down across my shoulder and chest.
The leather took most of the damage, but I hissed at the sharp pain across my chest where one claw caught hold and tore into me. The copper tang of blood filled my nose, and I drew my blades, jamming them into him as quickly as I could draw them.
I was bleeding profusely from the slice across my chest, and quickly the scent of blood was joined with the stink of corruption. Shit shit shit. He was poisonous, and I was already dying, even if I couldn’t feel it yet. I drew my gun and managed a shot before he knocked it out of my hand.
“What kind of Fae has no magic, yet attacks her own?”
He cackled a high, dry sound that rattled in his chest like an old smoker. He didn’t attack again, he didn’t need to. He circled me slowly, waiting for the poison from that one claw to course through my body and stop my heart.
A blur of flesh leaped over Gamble and me crashed into the goblin, rolling him back and straddling him, choking him. Rongo fought him off and sliced at him, but Gamble just laughed at the pale green blood that oozed out of the wound. “I am Deamon, and you will die by my hand, creature.”
But Rongo had other ideas. He dove for the gun he’d slapped out of my hand and fired three times as Gamble bore down on him. The succubus’ mask slipped as he ignored the onslaught of bullets and smashed into the goblin again, then picked him up and slammed him against the rough stone wall.
“You knew she was mine and still you attacked her. I will show you no mercy.”
Rongo’s arm snapped under the pressure Gamble put on it, and the goblin screamed in pain and fury. Other Fae circled them, and I tried to call out a warning. But my voice was gone, and so was my breath. I would die there. I had magic still, and I wasn’t going to die alone. But I would not let Gamble die too.
The Fae grabbed Gamble and pulled him off Rongo, and he spits blood and drove his good fist into Gamble’s stomach. I tried to stand and fell back to the earth. Rongo cackled again, thinking I was losing strength. Instead, I dug my fingers into the dirt, felt deep in the earth for life, and I found it.
I called roots from under our feet, and they shot through the stone up and out, wrapping around Rongo as he bellowed his anger.
"I'm a mongrel, just like you, goblin. But just like you, I have weapons of my own." I clenched my fist, and the roots bit into his flesh, tearing into him like he had me. I pushed them deeper and threw my fingers open, and the roots tore away at him, ripping him apart in a matter of seconds. It was the most damage I’d ever done to another being, and as he choked his last gurgling breath, I felt some of my own hard-earned humanity leave me.
I listed and fell on my side, the poison making me weak and nauseated, I vomited next to the goblin’s remains.
Suddenly, Gamble was in front of me, holding his hands up in supplication. "Don't!" He reached back with one hand, and I touched it. I felt the relief in his fingertips as he continued. “This is Morgana Silk of the Seelie clan, princess of the high Fae.”
A few stopped advancing, uncertain in the face of the sheer damage I’d done, coupled with the possibility of retribution from the king of the Fae.
“She’s already dead, Daemon. We’re just going to make sure she pays for her attack on us.” The speaker was the drake, and I wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t the first of his kind to have a chip on his shoulder.
I stood and faced him, praying I looked stronger than I felt. “I did not attack anyone. I only came to learn of the Fae. Learn who I am.”
Gamble growled. “You will pay for this. I will kill every last one of you and bleed you dry for every drop of her blood spilled.
There was a slow clatter as rocks dropped to the ground, and several of the Fae turned away without another word. “His poison is corrupted by his mixed lineage,” an ebony Pooka dressed in leather said. He tossed Gamble a pouch. “I keep the cure on hand, he was always cantankerous when he drank.” He started to turn away and swiveled back, pointing at Gamble. “You’re lucky she came first. You never would’ve survived Rongo’s crusher.”
I coughed, and my hand came away bloody. "Gamble.” I fell to the stone, feeling my heart slow with each beat.
Chapter 12
Gamble scooped me up in his arms and raced out of the labyrinth faster than I thought possible, setting me in his car as gently as he had Cecily. When I regained consciousness, I was in my bed, a fresh bandage wrapped around my ribcage, Gamble by my side.
“Hey, you, I lived.”
With a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh, he rolled over onto me, kissing me all over my face and pressing his ear to my chest to listen to my heart.
“God that sounds so good.”
“Feels pretty good too,” I chuckled. He lifted his head to meet my eyes. “You didn’t really think you’d gotten rid of me, did you?” I remembered the savagery of his real face, the daemon breaking through the handsome façade he wore for humanity's sake. "I saw you, the real you when you attacked the goblin.
“And what do you think, now that you’ve seen the monster in me, perhaps I should go.”
“I have never seen anything more irresistible, than you at your most savage when your only focus was saving me.” I touched his face. “I am Fae, Gamble. We come in every shape and appearance. Lend me some of that magic and heal me.”
He kissed me again, gentler, more tender until I couldn't remember my pain, only the need to have more of him all over me. I deepened the kiss, coaxed his mouth open over mine and nipped at his tongue and lips until he groaned, covering my body with his and pressing himself into me.
“We can’t do this. You’re hurt, and I can’t stay. I’ve drawn too much attention to my kind, and the leaders of my clan are demanding I leave.”
“We do this, and it will make everything better. I’m not asking for forever, Gamble, just for tonight. Come on, don’t you know about witches?”
It was true that witches got around their more human constitutions by developing sex magic that would heal us almost Fae fast. The bigger truth was that I didn’t need it. I knew my wounds were healing almost as fast as he would have. But this chivalrous side of my would-be lover couldn’t take a risk with me. Not so soon after he’d accidentally harmed another.
I pushed the covers aside and wrapped my legs around him. “Heal me, Gamble. Make me glow.”
His hand slid down my stomach to my panties and under them, cupping the warmest part of me. As he explored my mouth with his tongue, he mimicked the movements with his fingers below. Flicking, stroking, building the wave of my climax as I gripped the sheets and mumbled into his mouth, begging him to fuck me.
Roughly, I pushed him off me and tugged his t-shirt out of his tight jeans, fumbling with his button and fly in my need to get him n
aked. I tugged he shirt over his head and memories flooded me, of his almost naked body gyrating on stage, the way his lap dance broke my magical wards and set us glowing.
I pushed him back again, and he complied, lying back on the pillow as I tugged the pants down over his narrow hips and released his already turgid cock. His pants slipped off easily once past his hips, and I discarded them on the floor before falling upon his erection like a starving woman. I took as much of him into my mouth as I could, ignoring the pain in my chest and the wetness I knew would be fresh blood seeping into the bandages.
He was like silk-covered stone in my mouth, sliding over my tongue and down my throat until I couldn’t breathe. I sucked and kissed him until his breathing changed, and I knew he was close to release.
“Where?” I asked, panting. He sat up and lifted me, pulling my hips toward him. I saw his eyes move to the red stain on the cloth wrapped around my chest and I forced his eyes to mine. “Stop warding so hard. I can’t heal unless you let me in.”
He grabbed my panties in both hands and tore the seam, pulling me down onto him as the remnants clung to my leg. I repositioned myself and slid him up between my legs, so soaked with need that he slipped inside without any hesitation.
I gripped him tight, just the pressure of him in me almost enough to push me over the edge. He guided me down to his chest, where I felt his heart pounding under my cheek. I lifted my ass and lowered it, stroking him as he held me against him.
We kissed, and the heat between us grew, joined from our mouths down, the kiss deepening as we stoked the fire ever higher, until my skin seemed to meld into his and we glowed, filling the room with light like a small moon.
He held me as I screamed his name, the heat, and light from our joining almost painful but overridden by the ecstasy of his throbbing cock exploding into me as I crested and crashed into an orgasm unlike any I’d ever had.
He shuddered and clung to me until our hearts separated and I could feel my own heartbeat again, until I felt cooling sweat on my skin and knew I was in my own body, holding him inside me as he placed tender kisses on my forehead.
“Somewhere outside, an animal howled, followed by another, until a wild chorus rose to the sky outside my window. I knew our magic had delivered consequences I'd need to explain. But that would keep. Until then, I was whole, and in the arms of the man I needed, consequences be damned.
About Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
USA Today bestselling authors, Graceley Knox and D.D. Miers may be long-lost sisters, but their moms continue to deny it. They are most definitely the co-writers of the Kresova Vampire Harem series, as well as a multitude of other upcoming projects they can't wait to share with readers.
Together they tend to share the same brain, finish each other's thoughts, laugh way too hard at inappropriate comments, drink enough coffee to qualify for an intervention, and talk about their fur babies. When they're not chatting, which is always, they can be found all over social media hanging out with their author friends and readers!
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Chapter 1
Ruby
I am so lost. The snow is falling in thick flakes, creating a mesmerizing tunnel in my rental car’s headlights. It’s an eerie sensation as I drive the narrow Scottish road in an attempt to get back to the little cottage I rented for the week. My car chugs up the hill, and I squint, hoping maybe that will help me see better. It doesn’t. The car judders and gives a suspicious cough before I reach the top of the hill, and I have just enough time to pull over to the side of the road before it gives up the ghost.
I pull my phone off the charger, and my heart sinks at the sight of one-percent battery life.
“Shit,” I mutter, hitting the steering wheel of the little piece of junk. “Nothing works in this crap bucket.”
I wrap my scarf around my neck and shove the ends into the front of my heavy coat, thankful I’d been prepared. All my research told me Christmas in the Scottish Highlands means unpredictable weather, but cold temperatures are the constant. Getting out of the car, I step onto the slick road and immediately wish I’d added a second layer of clothing. It’s fucking freezing out here.
I walk to the crest of the hill in hopes I’ll be able to see the lights of the small village where I’ve been staying since yesterday. Lifting my phone, I pray to all the gods of every possible faith that my battery will last long enough for my GPS to show me where the hell I’ve ended up. I hold the phone high in the air and watch as the signal goes from one bar to none over and over.
“Come on, you bastard,” I say, walking around in search of a stronger connection. Then the screen goes dark. I shake the phone, hit it, scream at it, but there’s nothing aside from an electrical outlet that actually works that’ll bring the thing back to life.
An ominous cracking sound calls my attention back to my car. But my vehicle is not in the place I parked it. The green machine is rolling backward and into a snowy ditch before my very eyes.
“No!” I cry. There’s nothing I can do to save the car at this point. I trudge down the slick hill, taking careful steps in the thickening accumulation of snow on the ground.
I wrench open the door and grab my purse, slinging the bag over my shoulder and slamming the door shut again almost simultaneously. I haven’t seen a single car on this road in close to an hour, and by the way the snow is falling, I doubt anyone will be venturing out any time soon.
“This is how I die. Alone, on the side of a Scottish back road, at Christmastime.” Panic clutches at my chest. I can’t die here. I’m not ready. I’m only twenty-seven.
Glancing behind me, I see nothing but snow, trees, and endless road. I’ve got nowhere to go but forward at this point. So, I start walking. My feet go numb within minutes, but I keep forcing myself along the side of the road, hoping against hope I’ll come across someone.
The only sound is my feet crunching through the snow. It’s strange how muffled everything becomes when snow is falling. Almost like the curtain of white demands a hush fall over everything it touches. A sense of peace blankets me even as exhaustion takes hold, and I sit on the ground with my back against a tree. My eyelids droop as my body shuts down from the cold. This is it. I’m too tired to go on. I know with one-hundred-percent certainty that this is how I die. Stranded in the snow, a cautionary tale of traveling alone.
My vision goes gray as I drift off, suddenly warm and at peace. I wonder what I’ll find in the afterlife.
A bright golden light has me blinking my eyes open, and I smile when I see the most handsome man I’ve ever encountered. Wavy blond hair, almost glowing like a halo, eyes the color of glittering platinum, and a mouth made for all kinds of naughty things. He’s close, frowning in confusion as he stares at me. Reaching out, he caresses my face, his warmth drawing me to him. Everything around me is peace as I take his hand and rise. He’s not looking at me anymore, and that makes me sad. I want every ounce of his attention.
Looking behind me, I cock my head to the side when I see my body, seemingly asleep with a dusting of snow covering my form. “Am I dead?” I ask.
I turn my attention to the man and gasp when I see brilliant white wings spread behind him, the glow he’s emitting growing stronger with each passing second. He doesn’t say a word, but with a desperate sadness in his eyes, he shakes his head. Then, the angel, because that’s the only thing he can possibly be, takes my face in his hands and drops his lips to mine.
Stars burst behind my eyes, everything shattering as a rush of absolute pleasure and desire takes control of my consciousness. I gasp, breath rushing into my lungs and bone chilling cold overtaking my senses. The angel is still there, standing over me, and I try to lift my frozen hand to reach for him, but I’m too weak.
I’m warm. Curiously warm. And, as awareness creeps in, I’m also curiously naked and tucked in on a couch. Opening my eyes, I stay still but let my gaze travel around my surroundings. Intricately woven tapestries line the stone walls, and the high ceiling boasts arches and craftsmanship that instantly makes me wonder if we’re in the great hall of a castle. There’s a glow from a roaring fire across the room, but my assessment stops when my gaze lands on the man sitting in an arm chair with his focus trained on me. The man. The angel who saved me.
“You’re here…you…were in the snow,” I croak. “I thought you were an angel.”
He smirks but doesn’t say anything.
“I…Why am I naked?”
The man holds up his large hands, a softness in his gaze that eases my worry, but only slightly. “I found you on the side of the road. You’re lucky I saw you when I did. You seemed to be knocking at death’s door.” His voice is smooth and rich, a deep timbre with a gorgeous British accent.
“Thank you.” His gaze on me brings my focus back to my nudity. “That doesn’t explain why I’m naked.” I pull the heavy blankets up higher and burrow under them as if that will keep this man from ravishing me if he wants. The thought makes my nipples harden, and I wonder at my own state of mind. Have I already succumbed to Stockholm syndrome?
“Your clothes were soaked and cold. I had to get you warm.” He cocks an eyebrow and crosses his ankle over his knee. At least he’s not naked.
“What were you doing out in a snowstorm?” I ask.
“I could ask you the same question.”