Authors: Tracy St John
Steady girl
, I reminded myself.
You’ve already got one boyfriend too many, and Gerald is head over tail about Patricia.
He eyed me seriously. “What you’re going to see, it’s going to be plenty ugly. I want you to be prepared. The Beasts’ women are al human and regarded as property if not outright slaves. It’s nothing to the shifters to slap ‘em around or make them do –” here he paused and took a deep breath, “—acts of a personal nature in front of others.” Okay. Message received. Eww and gross. I don’t mind watching people put on a show, but it has to be consensual. I had the feeling what Gerald described wasn’t always that way.
Tristan stepped closer, his hand briefly touching on Gerald’s shoulder. Dismissed, the werepanther gave me another rare smile, rose, and went back to leaning gorgeously on the desk.
Tristan said, “The Beasts themselves are al werecreatures, mostly aligators and feral hogs. Besides the women, there’s only one non-shifter in the group. He’s a witch. Every chapter of the Beasts has one to keep their club warded.”
Oops. The danger factor just went up a milionfold. “He’l be able to see me.” Al witches have second sight that alows them to see the dead. I’d run afoul of a particularly nasty one a few months back.
From his oak perch, Gerald rumbled, “You’l have to hide when he’s around. This guy is a realy good witch and realy bad news.” Tristan nodded and patted my shoulder. “Dan can catch you up when you get to the club. Do you know where it is?” Everyone knew where the Beasts club was. The black-painted concrete building stuck out amongst the smal cottage-style homes that lined the same road. “Yeah, it’s right off Blount Highway.” A smile warmed Tristan’s sharp expression. “Try not to go off course.”
Sheesh. No one would let me live down my many miscalculations in transporting from one place to another when I’d first become a ghost. I scowled at Tristan. “Ha ha. I haven’t landed in the wrong place in two months, thank you very much.”
He went al businesslike again. When Tristan is a vampire, we have more of an employer-employee type of relationship. It bears little resemblance to the hot and heavy stuff we do during daylight hours.
Not that I’d want him that way while he was a vampire. Shudder.
“Have Dan get here as soon as possible. Be careful.”
Sometimes he gets paternal on me, which I don’t appreciate at al. Never mind he’s got a good sixty-five years of existence over me. I am a grown woman. “Hey, this is me you’re talking too.” Tristan snorted. “In that case, be very careful.” He motioned to someone behind me, and a lovely brunette female vampire, perpetualy in her mid-twenties until a wayward flame or the sun found her, stepped up to us. “Wendy, would you cal Jason and tel him I need him to channel Dan within the hour?” She gave him a quick nod and had a cel phone to her ear before a second could click by. Isabela doesn’t channel male ghosts. Way too intimate.
I’d seen Wendy around before, but she usualy sat at a desk. “Did you give Penny the night off?” I asked Tristan.
Tristan stared at me long and hard, and I realized his extra vampireness this evening had not as much to do with me as I’d initialy suspected. “Penny suffered her final death early this evening.” My mouth dropped. I hadn’t been close to Penny, but she’d been Tristan’s aide the entire time … seven months … I’d known him. A newer vamp, she’d had the bad taste to wear black, not at al flattering against her bluish-white skin. She’d been a secretary in life, and her skils as an aide were second to none.
No one knows what happens to vampires when they are dead for real and for good. They never return as ghosts. They just disappear.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice hushed with respectful shock.
Tristan’s lips narrowed and his fangs glimmered into view for an instant. He kept most of his calm, but that little slip told me how furious he was. “She drank tainted blood. It’s Fulton Fals’ third such death in the last year. That’s why I need Dan off the Beasts and on this matter.”
Most vampires didn’t get live donors like someone with Tristan’s clout did. They were forced to drink the pouched stuff you could pick up at any grocery or convenience store. Lately the more expensive Blood Potion No. 9, sold in slim black bottles dressed with fancy gold labels, had been flying off the shelves because dragons’ blood was somehow getting into the cheaper stuff. Dragon’s blood is lethal to vampires. A single drop, hard to detect in an eight-ounce pouch ful of human blood, wil eat up a vampire from the inside like acid. The tampering was claiming vampire lives al over the southeastern United States. Officials couldn’t track it down, and despite close inspections of al the packaging plants, bad blood was stil getting out.
I usualy don’t like to touch Tristan when he’s a vampire, but I knew this was messing with his head bad. I took one of his cold hands in mine. “I’m sorry, Tristan.” He nodded. “She was a good assistant. I’ve ordered a shipment of Blood Potion for al my clutch until the matter of the tampered pouches gets resolved.”
“That’s good.”
“But for Penny, it’s too little, too late.” Again his fangs appeared, along with a red rim around his black eyes. I sat very stil, like a hiding rabbit waiting for an eagle to pass overhead. Tristan would never hurt Isabela’s body. He had too much control.
But accidents happen around enraged vampires. There are graveyards ful of drained humans to attest to that.
In the space of a breath, Tristan was cool and colected as ever. His voice smooth as butter, he said, “If nothing important happens at the Beasts’ club, I’l see you at daybreak?” I smiled, proud I’d kept Isabela’s body from trembling. “Sure.”
He turned away, and I gave Gerald a little wave before exiting Isabela. Free and light as air again, I ran to Augustus to give him a hug and a peck on top of his feathered head. As far as I know, I’m the only person the grand ancient alows to have such liberties, and I take ful advantage.
“My adored child wil break hearts; her own and others,” he intoned, one paw curling about my waist. “But keep yourself from harm, for your existence ensures mine.” That’s Augustus for you. Enigmatic as can be. I’ve gotten to where I hardly listen to his words; it’s the warmth in his voice that matters to me.
I took off for the Beasts Motorcycle Club in high spirits. I felt a little bad that anticipation so easily replaced my shock at Penny’s second death even though I hadn’t known her that wel. But she was gone, bless her poor heart. I couldn’t help her, so I looked forward to having something exciting to do.
* * * *
It sure looked like a good place for poltergeist play, the kind of mischievous spirit activity that might include lobbing rocks through the glass. Maybe if it happened often enough, these fools would cease and desist in painting such rude pictures.
Then again, they might sic their witch on me. Not a pleasant idea.
A rough voice, grumbly and warm, spoke up behind me. “You’re a bit overdressed for this party, baby girl.” I turned, only now realizing I stil wore my sweet confection of an early 1900’s dress. As Dan slid into view, I got al warm and tingly. My second boyfriend was as handsome as Tristan, though they looked nothing alike. For those of you old enough to remember the Marlboro Man cigarette ads, you’l have a pretty good idea of the rugged deliciousness that is Dan Saling.
Unruly brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, a strong jaw, and face weathered to robust perfection made me feel al gooey inside. Despite looking fit as a fiddle, Dan had died young in his late thirties of a heart attack. He looks good. He feels even better. And he puts up with a lot of doo-doo from me.
I grinned, thriled to see him. His assignment spying on the Beasts had kept us apart for days at a time, probably no accident since Tristan wants me al to himself. Then again, when Dan gets the chance, he keeps me from Tristan too. It might have been fun being fought over by two hunkalicious men had I not loved them both so much and hated to see them hurt. But I have issues with being tied to just one man.
Boy, do I have issues.
“You don’t like my dress?” I pretended to pout.
“I love it. It’s just a bit much to hang out with this bunch.”
“Wel, let me tone it down then.” With a thought, the dress and boots disappeared, leaving me in my birthday suit.
Behind the concealment of his khaki trousers, I saw Dan salute me in a much better fashion than the painted hand on the building behind me. “Oh baby, you just found yourself a whole heapa trouble.” His clothes disappeared too, and he marched right up to me, his divine divining rod leading the way. Dan yanked me close for a bone-melting kiss, rough with furious passion. I was swept up in the almost animal savagery he displayed as he plundered my mouth with a ruthlessness that made my knees buckle.
Dan broke the kiss, and without so much as a how-do-you-do, seized my upper arm and whirled me around. Then his hand was on the back of my neck, bending me over a black leather motorcycle seat.
A flood of oil, gasoline and leather scents washed over me.
Dan’s feet nudged mine apart, opening me up. I gasped as he shoved two thick-knuckled fingers in my pussy, thanking my stars that I’d gotten wet the instant I’d laid eyes on him. My big man was eager and demanding, and it made me eager too. I moaned as his fingers dove in and out of me. Ladies, start your engines. He had my motor revving in an instant.
I responded to his uncompromising dominance. I’m submissive when it comes to sex, gladly handing over the reins to Tristan and Dan when hanky-panky gets going. Tristan’s an old pro at being a Master, but Dan’s polite upbringing left him not exploring his take-charge tendencies until he met me. He’s stil a little too careful for my tastes sometimes.
This was not one of those times.
His fingers worked me hard, making me shudder al over as he brought my ever-simmering libido to a ful boil. Little flashes of ecstasy, so sharp they were almost painful, had me jerking helplessly against the bike he had me pinned to. I wanted more. I wanted that big, thick cock of his that filed me so wel.
“Please, Sir,” I gasped.
His voice was as growly as any shifter. “That’s it. Beg me.” His hand moved faster, the liquid sounds we made growing louder. I thought I must be pouring like a rainspout.
My voice had a desperate whine as those lightning pulses of pleasure nudged me close enough to taste bliss but not close enough to gorge. “Please put your cock in me, Sir. Please take me, take me hard.”
“That how you want it, baby girl? You want it hard?”
“Yes, Sir. Please.” My breath sobbed in and out. My toes dug into the tire-churned ground. I gripped cool metal parts in desperation.
“How hard?”
God, he loved to torture me. But that’s a Dom for you. They’re not happy until you’re pleading at the top of your lungs, completely mindless with need.
“So hard it hurts. As hard as Sir wants me to have him. Please, Sir! I need your cock inside me,” I sobbed.
Without another word, his fingers were gone. I felt his hand an instant later, fisting against my slit as he positioned himself for that first thrust. I made myself relax in anticipation. I’d asked for it to be hard.
Dan would give me what I wanted with no mercy.
He plunged in, burying himself to the hilt in me with one brutal thrust. I screamed with the excruciating delight of mixed pain and pleasure. And kept screaming as he pounded against me until my body adjusted to him and there was only delight in being ridden violently.
Ecstasy beat through my body, curling my insides tight with tension. Dan had barely started when I began pleading with him. “May I come, Sir? Please, may I come?”
“Not yet,” he snarled, his hips making harsh gunshot reports against mine as he drove and drove and drove. “Take that cock, Brandilynn. Take it, baby.”
“Oh please, Sir.” He was hitting that special place inside, the place that roiled with sensation until I thought I’d explode. “Please, I gotta come.” His palm cracked a buttock, making it sting. The heat of the blow added to the inferno consuming my inner parts. I cried out, my hips thrusting back in invitation.
“You like that, baby? You like me putting you in your place?” Another slap, sending zings of intensity through my flesh.
“Please, Sir.” It was al I could do to not climax as his cock worked in and out of me, filing me so completely, rubbing al the good bits with a burning friction that made my hair stand on end. But if I came without permission, I’d be disciplined. And it would be more punishment than funishment. Tristan was teaching Dan to be a harsh taskmaster, the exact thing a bratty sub like me needed.
But I wanted to come so badly.
“Whose pussy is this?” Dan’s hand on the back of my neck tightened. He gave my bottom another spank.
“Yours, Sir.”
“Does this pussy come without my consent?”
“No, Sir.” At least it shouldn’t. I wasn’t going to hold out much longer, no matter how hard I tried. His cock was rubbing nonstop on that nest of nerves now, and goosebumps broke out over my arms.
My insides wound in a tight band, beginning to fray as the tension moved to the breaking point.