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Peace Offerings III:
TRANQUILITY
© copyright by Mandy M. Roth, May 2008
Chapter One
“My lady, the hour grows late. You are due in the grand hall for dinner with the King shortly. Surely you wish to be a bit more presentable.”
I cast a wary glance towards one of the women who seemed to be everywhere at once within the castle walls. I could scarcely sneeze without one of them tripping over themselves to assure I had something to wipe my nose with. It bordered on maddening yet there was little I could do to make is cease. In truth, my sour mood had less to do with being stalked by servants than it did with my dinner plans. The last thing I wanted to do was spend my evening dining with King Torean but it was inevitable. I was mated to his son, Prince Elwyn Rowan Lockland, or Rowan to those he called friends.
Rowan had been sent to deal with an uprising in the North quarter of the Unblessed Court almost a week prior. At present, he was two days overdue and my nerves were shot. I didn’t trust the King and wouldn’t put it past him to have done something to his own son.
The King’s lies had left my life and that of two others in turmoil. I’d not only mated to Rowan but had also bonded to Cedric, a man I’d loved since I was only five and he seven. Cedric wasn’t royalty. He was a warrior. We’d grown up together in the Blessed Court. My mother, the Queen, and his father, the head of the guards, were close friends. Unfortunately, close meant little to my mother. She had manipulated Cedric and I into believing no love was shared between us. He went off to war and I was told he died in battle. The reality of the situation was far worse than death. My beautiful warrior had been captured and tortured at the hands of the King of the Unblessed—a man who was now considered my father in law.
“My lady, come, please. Your bath has been drawn.”
Setting my potting shovel down, I sighed and decided to give in rather than listen to her babble on another minute. She’d only go for reinforcements anyway and the thought of having a parade of women badgering me only made my head hurt worse. They could and would go on for hours.
I glanced at the fruits of my labor, my garden, and sighed. The roses grew and were beautiful but the only color I could grow in the Unblessed Court was dark maroon, or black as most people referred to them. Granted, they were beautiful but I’d had enough darkness around me to last a lifetime. Other flowers native to the Unblessed Court bloomed around the roses, each as dark as the next. I missed the tiny garden I had at the cabin Cedric and I had shared in the human realm. It was modest but colorful. It was also mine.
I pushed to my feet and wiped the sweat from my brow a second before I remembered my hands were covered in dirt. Since I had no one within the Unblessed Court grounds to impress at the moment, I didn’t bother brushing it away. I headed for the back service entrance and the woman at my heels gasped.
“My lady, ‘tis unsightly for you to be using this door. You’re the princess. You should…”
Turning, I gave her a hard stare. “Do you want me to get cleaned up or not?”
She nodded and bowed her head. I would have felt bad for being surly with her but she and the others like her had fused themselves to my hip since my arrival. Rowan had explained they were there to see to my needs but I knew better. The king had ordered them to keep their eyes on me at all times. One of the younger women has confessed as much. The fear in her eyes had been enough for me to know that if I sent her or the others like her away, the King would not be pleased. King Torean wasn’t known for his compassion among his own people and I wasn’t willing to test the servants’ hides to see just how far he could be pushed.
The King had a rather sick obsession with me for years, or so I’d been told. To date he’d done little more than glance in my direction in passing. Had I not seen the aftermath of his lust I wouldn’t have believed it. The ugly reminder Cedric wore upon his neck was all the validation I required. The fact Rowan agreed his father was a monster only made matters worse. The sorrow in his brown eyes when he came to inform me of his duty still made my chest tight. Rowan didn’t want to leave me alone in the castle with his father but I assured him it was for the best. If we tipped Torean off to our plans of fleeing the Unblessed Court he would surely strike Rowan dead.
When Cedric had been captured and tossed in the dungeon, the King had paid him visits, pretending to be Rowan. Since they looked almost identical, it was easy for him to pull off. He’d bombarded Cedric with questions about me before resorting to mind raping him. The procedure was intrusive, painful and often left the victim on the verge of death. The memories he’d leeched from Cedric’s mind had been of me.
I’d foolishly blamed Rowan for the act and that of slitting Cedric’s throat, leaving him for dead when it had been the King all along. I hated Torean with a white-hot passion but was unable to express as much. Affording him the knowledge that we knew of his deceit would leave him tracking down Cedric in the human realm and killing him. Since I was bound to Cedric, I would die and in turn, Rowan as well. I cared little for my own safety but the very idea of either of the men I loved being harmed terrified me.
Lifting the floor length, emerald green gown slightly, I took the stairs two at a time. I’d been living in the Castle for nearly two months and already I had more gowns than I could ever hope to wear. The sad thing was, I missed my jeans and tee shirts. Cedric and I had spent four months living among humans and it was wonderful. I had no political pressures there. It was simply Cedric and I.
My chest tightened at the thought of Cedric, my auburn-haired warrior. He sent word often of his progress in finding a secure location for the three of us to relocate to in the human realm but it wasn’t the same as seeing him face to face. My body literally craved his and I missed his laugh.
As I turned the corner at the top of the staircase, I crashed into what felt like a cement wall. Heat flared through my body and I recognized powerful magik moving over me. I drew in a sharp breath and the smell of honeysuckle and morning dew filled my head. For a split second I was sure it was Rowan who held me upright. As I looked up to find myself staring at a face that looked identical to Rowan’s, I wanted to believe it was him. Something was off. I couldn’t place it but it was there all the same.
“Mackenzie, where are you rushing off to?”
The deep voice that greeted me even sounded like Rowan’s. It wasn’t. I stared into the dark brown eyes that seemed fixated upon me and forced a smile to my face. “King Torean, what brings you to this part of the castle?”
He stiffened. “You are very good at being able to tell my son and I apart. No one else has that ability. Tell me how it is you do.”
I swallowed hard. “Rowan is away in the North quarter of the Unblessed Court, your majesty. It stands to reason …”
A deep laugh escaped him as he pulled me closer to his body. “Ah, I see. Process of elimination. That makes perfect sense.” He touched my forehead lightly and dropped his face dangerously close to mine. “You have dirt on you.”
I did my best not to flinch as he wiped the dirt free from me. “Thank you, your…”
He tilted my chin upwards, forcing my green gaze to meet him head on. “Mackenzie, call me Torean. Nothing more, nothing less. Understand?”
I nodded.
Torean slid his hand down my neck, caressing my bare skin with the back of his finger. He was a bronzed warrior with long dark brown, almost black hair and I was the opposite with my pale, slightly shimmering skin and blonde, almost white-blonde hair. As he reached the tops of my breasts, I went to take a step backwards. His magik wrapped around me, locking me in place.
He drew a deep breath in and bent down further, putting his lips near mine. “How is it you can spend the day digging in the dirt yet smell so glorious that I want to sink my…”
I gasped and he stopped short of saying what it was he intended to.
Torean nodded and stepped back from me, releasing his magikal hold on me. “See you at dinner.”
No part of me was about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I moved quickly down the hall towards Rowan’s room. As I pushed the heavy, wooden door open I felt Torean’s magik creeping over my skin once more, continuing on the path his finger had been on. It slid over my nipples, making it harden almost instantly. I wasn’t sure what to do. My power was no match for the Faerie King of the Unblessed Court even at full strength. Giving into him wasn’t an option either.
The low cut front of my gown spread open wide of what seemed to be its own accord. I knew better. Torean was behind it. I did the only thing I could think of. I rushed towards the oversized bathroom and stripped the gown from my body. I didn’t bother with testing the temperature of the bath water. No. I needed to get the feel of Torean’s power off me so I practically dove into the bathing pool. As my face broke the surface, I felt Torean’s power ease away.
It took a minute for my nerves to calm enough that I wasn’t shaking. Torean was powerful and in my heart I knew he could defeat his son and Cedric if it came down to a fight. That was something I didn’t want to see happen. I tipped my head back and let it rest on the edge of the bathing pool. My body ached and I knew it wouldn’t let up until Rowan and Cedric returned. Our bond left me weakened, needing them both. Without them, I died a slow death.
Rowan’s mother had perished from the same thing—loving two powerful Fae men. If we didn’t find a way to be together soon or at the very least, break my bond to one if not both of them, we would all die.
Exhaustion took hold of me and the warm bath water soothed my aching body. My eyelids grew heavy and the need to rest, if only for a few moments, was great. I gave in, closing my eyes and relaxing for the first time in two months.
The peace was short lived as one of the servants pounded on the chamber door, informing me it was time to dine. I left the tub and dressed in a long, flowing blue gown, with a corset like center that pressed my breasts up high. I tied my hair loosely into a bun and added a tiny, silver necklace before grabbing shoes and opening the door.
* * * *
I tried and failed to rip my gaze from the roast swan on the center of the table. In much the same fashion as the Blessed Court, the Unblessed Court seemed to enjoy making cooked food resemble what it had been in life. Dyes and feathers adorned the bird, making it take on a certain life after death quality. One others enjoyed but I did not. My stomach twisted, positive the swan was watching me from its beady black eyes.
Several servants came out, carrying trays of additional foods. They wore swan face masks. Black surrounded their already dark eyes and white feathers shot out in all directions, giving them an added air of mystic. They scuttled about, filling wine jugs and bringing out pewter plates full of side dishes.
Torean was big into productions and seemed to do more and more with each meal we shared. Everything about the man was eccentric. He seemed to relish his oddities. Had I not known him to be a cruel man, I would have found him intriguing.
With a slight bow, he presented himself. His waist coat was a vibrant red with embroidered white patterns through it. Upon first glance, the pattern was nothing more than shapes. Looking harder, I found the scene most disturbing. It was a battle one. Showing men being struck down with swords. “Torean?” I asked, using his name rather than king or my lord to address him. It was a first for me.
A sly grin spread over his face. “See. That is so much better, Mackenzie. We are friends now. Would you not agree?”
I remained in place, my face blank. “Y-yes.”
My attention returned to his waist coat. His gaze followed. “Is there a problem?”
Without thought, I told him exactly what was wrong. “You want me to eat while you’re wearing the history of the men you’ve slaughtered.”
He removed the jacket and tossed it towards one of the servants. He stood before me in a white shirt with wide sleeves and cuffs that were full and long. The cravat he wore fit the fashion theme among the Courts so well yet it was unlike anything still popular in the human realm.
Torean pulled it off.
His long black hair was pulled into a tie at the nape of his neck and his dark gaze held the promise of sex.
I gulped.
The breeches he wore fit him snuggly, showing off an impressive bulge in the front. I looked away, my cheeks staining pink and my palms beginning to sweat. I wasn’t supposed to notice how handsome he was. It was hard not to considering he looked identical to Rowan.
He came to my side, his arm brushing mine as he eased my chair out for me. He motioned. “My lady.”
I sat and his hands found my bare shoulders. He caressed them before leaning over me, pulling my wine goblet near. “Drink. Be merry. This is a joyous day.”
“It is?” I inquired.
He put his face close to mine, so close in fact that I could feel his warm breath upon my cheek. “Yes. It is.”
“Will you share what occasion it is?” I didn’t really care but if it got him talking and kept him from trying to feel me up magikally, I was all for it.
He lifted my goblet to my lips, encouraging me to drink.
I did and he seemed in rapture over the action. “It is a day we shall never forget.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that.
The candles, in the chandeliers above us dimmed and I knew it was Torean’s doing. He blew on my ear as he backed away, taking his seat, which was next to mine. The table was long but he sat at the head and always insisted I sit to his right. Protesting got me nowhere fast so I’d learned to give in and get dinner over with.
This evening was different. Not only did the servers wear masks that mimicked our main course but dancers arrived as well. Each was dressed similar to a ballerina. They wore sawn feathers in their hair and feathers draping off their short skirts.
A haunting melody played from a location I couldn’t determine and the dancers moved to it, swaying and racing around the table, making large sweeping gestures with their arms. For a moment, all blurred and they appeared to be real swans, flapping about. I gasped and Torean was suddenly there, lifting food to my mouth, encouraging me to eat from his fingers. I wanted to resist but couldn’t.
My head felt light.
My willpower weak.
My gaze snapped to the wine goblet. Had he done something to it? Had he put a spell on me? I hadn’t thought he’d stoop to that level and a piece of me didn’t want to believe he’d done so now.
“Mackenzie,” he whispered, tilting my chin to face him. He bent his head and then drew back, the slightest of smiles on his face. “The time of our joining nears.”
“R-Rowan?” I asked, my voice as weak as my willpower.
Torean vanished, leaving me with the dancers and serving. The dancers swelled in on me and then backed out, never missing the rhythm. Fog seemed to muddle my mind and I tried to focus. Nothing worked. The music grew louder and the servers took to practically forcing food and wine down me. One even spilled drops of red wine on the swells of my breasts.
Torean was suddenly there, dipping his head, licking the wine from my bosom. I sucked in a deep breath as my body responded in ways it shouldn’t to him. I pushed on his face, moving him away from my breast. Overwhelmed, I stood and swayed. He caught me with an arm around my waist and dragged me against the hard planes of his body. I put my palms to his chest, shaking my head no.
He bent his head and his lips met mine a moment before darkness surrounded me.
Peace Offerings II:
REVELATIONS
By
Mandy M. Roth
© copyright September 2004, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright September 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter 1
"Thanks for all your help Mackenzie," Cherri said, smiling at me as I headed for the door.
"I’ve told you a hundred times to stop thanking me. I enjoy what I do here. I like making a difference." It was the truth. I did love working at the women’s shelter. They were desperate for funding, and I seemed to find my niche when it came to rubbing elbows with high society for fundraising purposes. Could be from all my years as a faerie princess, but I wasn’t sure. Spending a lifetime with aristocrats will make you into a social butterfly--at least that’s what they tell me.
Cedric had been furious with me for agreeing to take on this added bit, but once he actually saw how many women and their children passed through our doors, he changed his tune. He made a sizeable donation and made me promise to avoid using my name or having my photo taken while in public. I agreed to that.
"Is your husband coming to pick you up? You seem run down lately. You feeling alright?" Cherri asked, as she ran her fingers through her short brown hair.
I nodded and headed for the door. It was a lie, but Cherri would worry if I told her that Cedric would be at his office until late, again, and if I told her how I’d really been feeling, she’d rush me to the nearest hospital.
"Night, Cherri." I called out as I put my jacket on and headed outside. The cool air blew past my face, sending locks of blonde hair flying into my face. Brushing them away, I growled slightly.
I walked down the sidewalk, noticing how dark it really was. Every piece of me knew that I should have left the shelter hours ago, but had been so swept up in paperwork that I’d let time get away from me. I silently cursed myself for not taking Cedric up on his offer to teach me to drive. It had taken me a month to get used to riding in the truck with him. I couldn’t imagine myself being the one behind the wheel. I still wasn’t doing so well with human machines. I’d already set the stove top on fire twice in the few short months we’d been living among mortals, and one of those times I was heating a pan of water. No, I don’t think Cedric would be letting me live that one down anytime soon.
Things were certainly easier back at the Blessed Court for me. I had servants to attend to my every need, and an army of men to protect me. I missed the servants' part, and the army of men had its advantages, and I’m not just talking protection, but I was happier now then I’d ever been. Sex with only one man had become more fulfilling than I’d ever thought possible.
Granted, I wasn’t too happy about the circumstances surrounding Cedric and me leaving the Courts, but it was better this way. We were free from my mother’s sadistic behavior and the madness I like to call my life.
I zipped my ski jacket up tight and fished my gloves out of my pocket. Cherri said that it wasn’t that cold out yet. She told me to wait until November got here, I’d know cold then. I didn’t agree. I was used to a nice even temperature that was always just right. The Blessed Court wasn’t prone to cold blustering winds or snowfalls. This was new to me. The norm where I came from was a constant, regulated temperature, and that was looking better and better every day.
I pulled my hair loose from its clip and let it spill down and over my shoulders. There was very little point to keeping it tied up, since most of it had come loose and was blowing in my face already. My hopes were that it would keep me warmer, I was wrong. It did relive some of the tension that had been building at the base of my head. Not sleeping very well was taking its toll on me. My dreams of the Goddess Morrigan had been bothering me to the point I’d taken up an unhealthy addiction to caffeine in an attempt to stay awake. My body was not used to human inventions such as this, and it was proving to be more of a toxin than an aide, but I used it all the same.
The Goddess Morrigan, according to Celtic mythology, is the Goddess of battle and death. Many a Si has witnessed her prior to a battle, and all have perished. To see her is to see your end, and I’d been seeing her on a regular basis in my dreams for close to two months now. It was amazing that I still took air in, let alone walked. She was coming for me, with death and an end to my immortality. This much I could accept, but Cedric never would. It was best to keep it from him for as long as possible.
In my dreams, Morrigan would be bent over a river, washing bloody clothes. She looked exactly like me, yet somehow I knew that it was Morrigan and not me at all. The illusion of myself there may have been her way of easing me into the reality of my fate. There was no way for me to know for sure, and asking her was out of the question. I couldn’t explain why she appeared to me that way, but the very fact that she visited my sleep said that my time as an immortal was drawing to an end--and soon.
I had tried to dismiss the dreams as nothing more than my overactive imagination and fear of my enemies finding me, but when the black raven started making appearances during my waking hours, I knew that I was screwed. The raven is another form that the Goddess Morrigan can take. Her persistence should have scared me, but it didn’t. I knew I was dying. I could tell by the weight and hair that I was losing and by the blood I’d been coughing up regularly. Cedric knew nothing of this, of course, and I had no intentions of telling him. There was nothing he could do for me now. There was nothing anyone could do.
Book One
PEACE OFFERINGS
By
Mandy M. Roth
© copyright July 2004, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Kat Richards, © copyright July 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
Chapter 1
"Get the thought out of your head, girl. He’ll bring you nothing but worry and pain. It’s not worth a moment of bliss for an eternity of bein’ damned." I heard Dina’s voice ringing in my ear.
Dina made it difficult not to hear her. She seemed more than capable of projecting her abnormally loud voice out so all the world could listen in. I often wondered why my mother hadn’t employed her to be the announcer at the faerie games. She could easily make herself heard over the roar of thousands of immortals without the use of magic. She made a hissing noise at me, and I felt certain that the residents of the neighboring town knew that Dina was not pleased with me at the moment.
"Quiet … he’ll hear you," I whispered back to her. I glanced towards the center of the courtyard to make sure that the object of my desire was not looking in our direction. I was safe. His attentions were on the two men he had arrived with. I tried to listen as they talked quietly amongst themselves, never once noticing the weight of my stare.
They’d come to speak with Moya, the Queen, about faerie matters. The war between the Blessed and the Unblessed Courts had ended a little over a year ago. Since the end of the war, peace negotiations had been underway. The tension was thick in the air. After a hundred years of fighting, peace had come so suddenly that adapting to the change was more difficult than fighting the war.
My dear, loving mother had decided that the best way to ensure peace between the courts was to promise my hand in marriage to a member of the royal Unblessed Court. When I had rounded on my mother, Queen Moya, with my anger over this decision, she simply laughed. "Oh, my dear Mackenzie, do not fear. I have heard that Prince Elwyn is quite the catch. Many of little Fay have tried to win his heart, but none have succeeded until now."
I didn’t have the energy to point out the obvious, which was that I had not succeeded in winning his heart either. Rather my heart was bargained off to him as honey to sweeten the deal between the courts. I’d been informed that I was to be his wife, I was never asked. Even for the faerie courts, this was archaic. We’d been allowed to marry our mate on our own terms for close to a hundred years now. I felt like I’d taken a step back in time, to a time when women had no rights, and I didn’t care for it too much.
I’d been sick with dread over meeting my soon-to-be husband for weeks now. After all, it was common knowledge that members of the Unblessed Court were fond of torture, bondage, multiple sex partners, and dark magic, all of which I found to be unsavory. Well all, that is, except for the multiple partners one. A girl’s got to have her releases, you know.
"Mackenzie, let’s go before one of them gets a notion to come this way. You’re about to be a married woman. Someday soon you’ll be their Queen, and they don’t need to be gettin’ no ideas about you." Dina’s accent was laced with old Gaelic. Mine wasn’t free of the old language either, but I’d been raised with tutors who’d tried their best to break me of old habits.
I frowned at her and wished, just this once, that she wasn’t my best friend. Her long, curly red hair was pulled back in a long braid. That was the norm with her nowadays--the uptight look. I feared that she’d lost her ability to let herself go and have a good time. She’d been more than willing to lose her inhabitations the night before last when we’d run naked through the stables trying to catch the eyes of the stable hands. We’d succeeded and the night had ended with pleasures that were much needed for the both of us. Oh, yes, Dina had no problems with shyness when she and I were together.
My gaze wandered back over to the dangerous stranger that had paid us a visit. He was spectacularly stunning with his long, dark brown hair so close to black that I wasn’t sure what to call it. It was sleek, straight, and hung to his mid-back. I wondered what it would be like to have him above me with that glorious crown of silk flowing all around me.
I knew the touch of a man well. Being a faerie naturally made me sexually charged. What I’d rarely known was the touch of a man I desired. Don’t get me wrong, the men who graced my bed were admirable bedmates, but none possessed my heart, my soul, my mind. None that is to say, except for one, but he had passed away over a year ago. Since then I had been searching for the one who would make my inner thighs tighten again with just the thought of being near him. I was pretty sure that I’d finally found him. The only problem I could see was that my mother would lose her mind if she found out that I had bedded a low level-messenger of the Unblessed Court. I toyed with this idea in my mind, and decided that I would risk her wrath. Besides, it would be so very like me to push her limits.
I headed right for the tall, dark-haired stranger. I heard Dina’s cries for me to stop, and blocked them out. When I was within two feet of him, he stopped speaking to his friends and looked at me. His dark chocolate eyes scanned my body. They stopped to linger over my thin white gown, and to stare at my more than blessed chest. I blushed slightly. This caught me off guard, I never felt embarrassed or ashamed. What power was it that this man possessed? Yes, he was a gift from the Goddess herself, but still that ought not cause me to turn into a silly schoolgirl at the very sight of him.
I looked at his chiseled face and could not remember a time when I had seen a faerie with skin as bronzed as his. More often than not, we faeries ran a bit on the pale side. Some of us did, however, break the mold.
"I’m Mackenzie. And you are?"
He stopped staring at my chest and directed his attention towards my face. "I am Rowan. So, you are the lovely Princess Mackenzie. I have heard much about you. I fear that my informants have understated just how magnificent you truly are."
"What, may I ask have you heard of me then?" I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but the thought of not hearing that deep rich voice again made me shudder.
He held out his hand to me. I took it. His fingers were rough. He was most certainly a warrior. Men of wealth and honor rarely had coarse hands. I’d found that most of the men I’d bedded were as silky smooth as myself. Rowan was a refreshing change. "My dear Princess, your beauty is known throughout the lands. Lesser beings talk of your hair, as gold as the sun with streaks as white as snow, of your eyes, as green as newly formed leaves, and of your body, which is rivaled only by the goddesses themselves."
My pulse quickened. Many men had made futile attempts at flattery with me, but this one was different. This man called Rowan made me want to prove him right. He made me want to show him how much more I could really be.
"I dare say that you flatter me so with your kind remarks." I gave a small curtsy. "Am I to assume that what you’ve heard about me is true then?"
His dark eyes lit up. "Oh no, I think that words cannot possibly do you justice."
"Then how do plan on telling Prince Elwyn of me? It would have been so much easier for him to come personally to see me. I requested this, but of course, he never responded. Just like an Unblessed, thinking they don’t have to answer to anyone but themselves…. Are you to house an image of me in an orb?"
My obsession with human culture almost caused me to slip and say photograph, I was pleased that I caught myself. Orb images were livelier than a two dimensional photograph, but dated all the same. I’d not yet received one of the Prince. I was flying blind as to what he looked like. I’d impressed my image into an orb on the off chance he’d request it, but he had not.
Rowan looked amused by my comments. "I take it from your tone that you’re not happy about the current arrangement."
I tossed my hand in the air and laughed. "Oh, please. Don’t tell me for a minute that if you were me you’d be happy marrying that barbaric beast!"
Rowan and his two friends burst into laughter. The blonde one actually clutched his gut. I wanted to smack him square in the back of his head, but resisted. "Barbaric beast? What makes you think that the Prince is a barbarian?"
"Oh, that’s simple. He is to be King of the Unblessed Court one day, what else could he be? I hardly think they have kind gentleman roaming about to lead an army of demons. No thanks, I’d rather marry a Goblin and that’s not saying much, is it?"
Rowan’s grip on my hand tightened. I had offended him. I didn’t care. I had spoken the truth, and that’s all that mattered. I could respect his loyalty to his Prince, but even he had to admit that someone from the Unblessed Court had to be a scoundrel. I grew tired of this little game with him. I knew that he wanted me, and I him, so there was really no point in continuing.
"The Prince is not what I want to be focused on at the moment," I said, as I took a step towards him.
He leaned closer. "And, what exactly is it that you are interested in focusing on?"
I stood on my tiptoes to be near his ear and whispered. "Why you, of course."
His laughter bellowed out and around me. I felt as though I could wrap his deep voice around me, and it alone would be enough to bring me pleasure. He turned and looked at the men who had accompanied him on his journey. Without question, they walked away, leaving the two of us standing near one another.
"So tell me Mackenzie, now that you have my undivided attention, what do you plan to do with it?"
I smiled at him as I put my lips on his. I pushed my tongue into his receptive mouth and inched it around. We explored the deep recesses of the other furiously. A tiny moan escaped him. All would have been perfect if it wasn’t for a tiny tingling sensation that started on my arm. Someone’s negative energy pressed down on me. I reluctantly pulled away from Rowan, and turned to see Dina glaring at me.
"Dina?"
She stomped her foot on the ground and crossed her arms over her chest. It was her way of taking a stance. I ignored her and turned back to Rowan. I would not let my chance with him be spoiled. I grabbed hold of his hand. "Come."
Without question, he followed me. I pulled him through the courtyard gates and down the tiny winding stone path towards the river. Halfway down, I veered off the path and pulled him through a seemingly endless tangle of vines. He never complained, he simply held tight to my hand and let me pull him along. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew every inch of the Blessed Court’s grounds. I had never been allowed off of it growing up, so this gave me plenty of time to explore every nook and cranny. My destination was within sight. A moment later, we broke through the tangled mess and stood in a small clearing on the edge of the river.
"I must say, I am impressed," Rowan said from behind me.
I reached down and began pulling my long gown over my head. I lifted it slowly up my body. I knew that he watched me and I intended on giving him a good show. I pulled it up and over my waistline, exposing the thin patch of blonde curls that lay nestled between my thighs. He drew in a deep breath, and I continued pulling my gown over my head.
Rowan’s hands slid up my waist, and to my arms, to help ease the garment completely off. My long hair spilled out and over my breasts. The sun kissed strands acted as a veil and left most of my body covered. He brushed the stray strands out of the way, and in the process grazed my erect nipples. I let out a small cry of joy, causing him to yank his hand away.
"You know that the Prince will not be pleased that you let another man touch you."
"I could care less what Prince Elwyn thinks of me. When I marry, I wish it to be for the sake of love and passion, not to maintain peace. Furthermore, the Prince and I are not married yet, so what I do is of no concern to him. If he was truly that worried, he’d have come himself and not sent you in his place. Let that be a lesson to him."
"I see. So, you do not care about the repercussions that this could bring upon us?"
I tipped my head back and laughed. "Why in the world would I care what he thinks? It is written plainly in my marriage contract with him that I shall be allowed to bed whomever I choose, so long as it remains strictly for sexual pleasure."
I had made my mother put that revision in after I’d read the first draft and found it to be completely unacceptable. After much debate, she had finally given in to my demand, and sent the contract off for approval. It, to my surprise, arrived back within two days signed by the Prince and bearing his seal.
"Ah, yes. The marriage contract," he said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled with only one side of his mouth. "I must say, the Prince has caught much backlash for allowing you to have such freedoms."
I was on the verge of being angry, but his beautiful brown eyes helped me hold my temper. "Backlash, he’s caught backlash? I’ve never even laid eyes on the man I’m to marry, and he’s concerned with negative feedback! Oh, that is truly rich! Suppose he is as ugly as a troll, what then, am I expected to spend the rest of my days lying next to him? I shall have to consume my food in another end of the castle for fear that I won’t be able to digest it."
I knew what I said was harsh and untrue. I had no problem with unattractive beings in my bed, and had even been known to lay with some unsavory characters, but that wasn’t the point. I only had problems with being forced to do something I did not wish to do. I latched onto any reason not to wed him even if it was an insanely untrue one.
"Are looks really that important to you?"
I didn’t know how to answer him. I knew that I came off as a spoiled little princess, and I had reason to be. Being forced to marry a man that I had never even met was beyond wrong. It was cruel. I searched deep within myself to see if I could honestly love something as ugly as a troll. My initial reaction had been no, but as I looked into Rowan’s eyes, I knew that I was attracted to him in a way that physical beauty could not contain. Sure, he was perfect in every way, but he had something else about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he felt right. There was something about him that made me not care what he looked like. It had been that way with only one other, but now that he had passed it did not matter. "No, I suppose that one’s beauty is not all that matters to me."
He seized hold of my bare shoulders, yanking me close to him, and kissing me heavy and hard. I didn’t protest, instead, I welcomed it. Dampness lined my inner thighs as each swipe of his tongue drove my body into more of a frenzy.
MISFIT IN MIDDLE AMERICA
By
Mandy M. Roth
© copyright August 2004, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Kat Richards, © copyright August 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Dedication:
To my mother who never once stopped pushing me to dream regardless what I was doing, and who told me that little girls can grow up to be whatever they want to be.
To my stepfather, who dedicated thirty years to law enforcement and who has been a member of our family for eighteen of those. And to my father whose scary movie marathons helped me to grow into the freak I am today.
Warning: This story contains graphic violence, explicit sex, adult situations, extreme gore, and is not for the faint of heart.
Chapter 1
I turned and looked at Jonathon Williams. I’d known him since I’d come to North Maple Ridge ten years earlier. I never dreamt that accepting the job of Chief of Police in a tiny, rural Midwest community would amount to this. If Jonathon’s brother, Robert, hadn’t been a witness to the crime, I’m not sure I’d have believed the body was Jonathon’s.
The boy had grown into a man before my eyes. It seemed like only yesterday that he was coming over to build a fort with my son, Justin. I could still hear the two of them smacking sticks together, pretending to be defending the universe from the evil invaders.
Jonathon had been two weeks shy of his nineteenth birthday when he died. His life had been senselessly cut short, and it was my job to figure out who did it. I cursed silently to myself as I walked back to my jeep. Some days I really hated my job.
"Chief, do you need to see anything else, or can we bag ’im up?"
I turned and looked at Officer Braun. He was new to police work. He’d only been in it a year now. The pay here was decent, but he could have done much better in the city. His father had been an officer with our department, and that meant something. Braun looked a little green. I couldn’t say I blamed him. The prospect of bagging up a body that’s in pieces will make the best of men fall to their knees. This wasn’t our first, and I feared it wouldn’t be our last, so I nodded my head for him to finish up. Might as well learn to handle it now, I thought to myself as I walked away.
I opened my jeep door to head to the Williams’ house to inform them of their son’s death. Robert would need their support now, and I was pretty sure Mr. Williams would be able to offer it. Mrs. Williams, on the other hand, would more than likely be too distraught over the loss of her oldest boy to be much good to Robert. The boy had managed to survive a brutal attack and make it to the highway to flag down help. The paramedics were amazed that he was doing as well as he was. He’d lost a ton of blood. If he survived the night, it’d be a miracle.
"Excuse me, Chief Sisel, can I ask you a few questions?" I heard Beth Murray’s voice before I saw her. I thought about jumping in my jeep and driving off, but that would only add to the hysteria. The last thing I wanted to do was be cornered by her. Beth was the town’s lead reporter. Come to think of it, she was the town’s only reporter.
She’d been born and raised here, and she knew everyone. I knew that she had gone to some fancy college on the east coast for a while, but after graduation, she headed home. I wasn’t a native here, but I knew the area’s appeal. I also knew that in Beth’s world I didn’t exist. I was a primary source for fact verification and that was it. If the town had had automated police records I was sure she’d never bother to speak to me, she’d skip me and look it up herself.
"You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer."
"I’d expect nothing less, Chief," she said, smiling. "I’ve learned to lower my expectations when dealing with you." I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not.
I watched her coming toward me with her blue jeans and tan sweater on. My eyes scanned the length of her body. I wished that she’d wear clothes that fit her better. I’d accidentally seen her once wearing a tiny black bikini. She was sunbathing in her backyard and I had responded to a call about a missing dog. I leaned over the fence to see if he’d run that way and found Beth lying there with the strings undone, leaving her pink nipples partially exposed to me. I could still remember the curve that her hip took, and the way her navel wanted to poke out, but didn’t. Maybe if she showed off her figure a little bit more it’d hide that the fact that she had some serious personality quirks. I doubted it though.
By the looks of her now, she’d been awakened out of a deep sleep to try to get the scoop. I had to laugh when I saw tiny wisps of her blond hair come loose from its hair tie. During the day, she was always so put-together, but in the middle of the night, she was as real as the rest of us. That was good to know, although I had fantasized many a night that she slept in tiny black silk panties with a garter belt and fish net hose. But hey, what guy didn’t think about that?
Beth was nine years my junior, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about her--obsessing to be exact. Karen, my wife, had been gone since Justin was three. She said that we’d married too young, and that she needed her freedom. I agree we did marry too young. We were both just eighteen when she got pregnant. She saw it as the end of our lives. I viewed it as the beginning. It was hard for the first couple of years.
I’d enrolled at the Academy and was taking classes all day and working security at night. When I wasn’t at school I was working. It was hard for us, but I knew it’d be better on us in the long run. Two weeks after I started my first police job, Karen walked out on me. She dropped Justin off at the sitter’s and I hadn’t seen her since. Now, Justin was about to turn eighteen and getting ready to graduate, and I was chief of police. Maybe it had been for the best that she’d left.
As I watched Beth come closer to me, I wondered why I wasn’t dating more. I wasn’t old by anyone’s standards. I’d just turned thirty-six and had a better build than most of my son’s friends. Still, I didn’t feel right dating. Karen was gone, and I didn’t love her anymore, but I’d never gotten a divorce. At least I hadn’t yet. It hadn’t seemed important to me. My job consumed most of my time, and Justin was too high a priority to make room for a woman. I wasn’t a monk either. I’d had sex since Karen walked out on me, but I’d never had a relationship. Until Beth, I never thought that I wanted one. Something about that feisty little blond made me want to force her to commit.
My mind raced back to a week earlier when I’d run into the city for a seminar. It was a two-day planned event that left me having to get a hotel room for the night. A few of us had decided to go to a bar for a drink. I ended up meeting a hot little number whose boyfriend was out of town for the weekend. I could still feel her lips around my cock. She was one of those women with extra full lips. The kind that make you wonder what sort of work she had done to achieve such perfection.
She spent most of the night on her knees making remarks about how ‘gifted’ I was. I grinned thinking about it. She’d been one of the rare few who begged me to come all over her face. I did, of course.
I tried to exchange names and numbers with her, but she’d been the one to insist on not doing it. Turns out her boyfriend was really a husband and she was just looking for a good time. I wasn’t into being a home wrecker, and it had been eating at me since I’d returned home. I should have been pleased to finally get some action. I’d been on a two-year dry spell. It was hard to find someone willing to have a one-night stand in North Maple Ridge. The town was small, and I didn’t need my character to come under assassination for banging the local women. Besides, I’d had my eye on one local since I’d arrived, and I wasn’t even sure she knew my first name.
Beth shot me an odd look. I forgot that I was still staring at her. I looked away quickly and tried to pretend that I hadn’t been ogling her. She stumbled right in front of me and I reached my hands out to catch her. I felt her toned arms in my hands, she moved slightly, leaving my fingers resting on her full breasts. I drew a breath in and let my eyelids fall lazily closed. It was all I could do to keep from going instantly hard. The last thing I needed was to sprout a full erection while her body was pressed against mine. The woman already had a low enough opinion of me. I didn’t need to add to it any.
"Damn, why can’t these things happen on flat land?" she said under her breath, looking away from me and to the crime scene.
"Well, those of us with hearts wish they wouldn’t happen at all."
She looked up at me. I knew what she meant, yet I put her in the hot seat. I could tell I’d caught her off guard. Damn. I hadn’t wanted to make it any harder to be around her. It already seemed like the battle lines were drawn the moment we laid eyes on each other. It was her job to try to pry information out of me, and mine to keep everyone’s private matters just that, private.
Beth pulled her body away from my grip a little slower than I would have expected. The edge of my mouth curved upwards. I wasn’t grinning so much as I was sneering. I had to shake it off. I didn’t want to be that guy, the one that creeps women out.
I did my best to push the thoughts of fucking Beth out of my head and looked around the scene. We had the place lit pretty well, considering it was in the middle of nowhere and at night, but it wasn’t the same as daylight. I could clearly make out what was going on and my men had things under control. Beth let out a small noise when she saw one of the blood soaked sheets laying over a piece of the body. I turned to make sure she was okay. I didn’t need anyone else throwing up all over my crime scene. The artificial light reflected off her eyes. I knew from sneaking peeks at her during a town meeting that her eyes were blue. I wondered if she ever bothered to notice mine. I had my doubts.
Beth seemed to live an active social life. She was definitely different from me in that respect. I’d seen her around town with her new boyfriend. He was one of those guys who like to look like they pumped gas for a living. Somehow, he’d managed to make the grunge look work for him. I’d never gotten onto that bandwagon. I liked people to know that I showered and cared what I looked like. This guy that Beth had been shacking up with was from the city and more than likely a musician of some kind. No, I didn’t measure up in that area. I couldn’t carry a tune to save my life. I could carry her if need be, though. My six-foot tall body was fit. Running every day saw to that, but I’d never seemed to be able to catch her eye. Sure, I managed to catch enough backlashes from her to keep me up at night, but that was it.
"So what do we have?" she asked.
I looked over at the area marked off with yellow tape. What we had was a set of murders. Three to be exact. They were all related, without a doubt. We had some psycho running around, tearing the youth of our community to bits--that’s what we had. I didn’t think it wise to put it in those terms, so I softened it up a bit.
"We have another one."
Her eyebrow rose. "Another one? You mean, like Becca and Christian?"
I nodded my head and thought of Becca Townsend and Christian Martin. They had been the first two murder victims. Three weeks ago, we’d found Becca’s body near the edge of the river. She had been in the same state as Jonathon--decapitated, disemboweled, and then mauled. It was still up in the air if she’d been raped. There wasn’t a lot of her left, and we’d had thunderstorms blow through the area the night she was killed.
A week after that, Christian’s body was found further out in the woods. He’d just been accepted to State College with a full ride for football. He was the Martin’s only child, and the last I knew, they were planning on moving closer to the college. Guess that wouldn’t be necessary now. I hadn’t spoken with them since I delivered the news of their son’s death. I’m sure they blamed me for it happening. No, I hadn’t been the one to commit the act, but I had been the one who neglected to catch the murderer after Becca’s death.
Three gruesome murders in three short weeks had drawn the attention of the Feds. I’d received a call from them yesterday, letting me know that they’d be sending some men down. I welcomed the help and was happy to see more resources coming in. I think my positive tone had caught them off guard.
"Who was it?" Beth asked.
I frowned at her. She knew I couldn’t release that until the next of kin was notified. She looked over at Braun kneeling in the bushes throwing up.
"Its bad then?" she asked. I looked down at her and wanted to shake her. Hell yeah, it was bad. One of the three worst crime scenes I’d ever seen. It wasn’t her fault. "Off the record," she said, looking worried.
Now that was one I hadn’t heard from her before. Beth liked to be the one who kept the town up to date. Promising to stay off the record was a big step for her.
"One of the Williams boys," I said.
She grabbed her mouth as a tiny gasp came out. I’d forgotten that her mother was a Williams. That made the boys her cousins. I reached out my hand to her. She moved past it and seized hold of my waist. Her hands slid up my back and she pulled on me tightly. I stood there, too shocked to hug her back, with my arms out in the air. I looked like I was being held up. I’d waited for ages to get her this close to me and then just stood there looking like Deputy Doolittle.
"Oh God, Adam. Aunt Maggie, does she know yet?"
I had to swallow. In all the years I’d known Beth, she’d only ever called me Chief Sisel. Hearing my name on her lips was magical, in lieu of the events surrounding the last few weeks.
"No. I’m on my way over to tell her and John now."
"I’m coming, too," she said, as she ran around to the other side of my jeep. I didn’t have the heart to turn her away. They were her family, and if she was promising to keep this off the record, then it was fine by me. Besides, having her close wasn’t turning out to be altogether that bad.
LAST CALL
By
Mandy M. Roth
© copyright October 2004, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright October 2004
ISBN 1-58608-141-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Dedication:
Mom, you have a way of seeing the real me and I want to say thanks for not being freaked out by what you’ve found. I may be odd, but I’m yours and you’ve always embraced that.
Prologue
I dug my fingernails deep into Trevor’s shoulders. He cried out as he finished in me. He pulled out slowly, and kissed my neck as he took his condom off. I tried to make it seem like the experience had been equally as thrilling for me, but in truth, it hadn’t. He wasn’t a bad lover, on the contrary he was the best I’d ever had, but my feelings for him had changed. No longer the naïve girl from the Midwest, I didn’t hang my hopes and dreams on those of a man. If anything, Trevor had taught me that I could be on my own and make it.
My mind raced with thousands of ways to tell him that this just wasn’t working out. I thought about using the ‘we should just be friends bit’, but wondered if the irony would be lost on him. After all, he had been the one to use that on me five months earlier. It was in the height of his just needing space days and I’d been kicked aside--again. He hadn’t stayed away long. No, he’d been back in my bed within two weeks of breaking it off. Sowing his wild oats had taken less time than he’d thought, or so it had seemed. He claimed that he didn’t use our ‘time outs’ as free fuck moments with his model co-workers, but I wasn’t buying it. Normally an insatiable man, Trevor always seemed so sated after our tiny break ups.
At first, I thought that I couldn’t go on without him in my life. Now, I wondered if it wasn’t the other way around. He was the one who called all the time now. He was the one left wondering what I was doing when I didn’t answer my cell phone by the third ring. It felt good, to a point, to have the shoe on the other foot, but I couldn’t do it anymore, regardless of how sweet revenge really was.
"I love you, Rayme," Trevor murmured as he rolled over.
Patting his arm gently, I turned away from him. I couldn’t tell him that I loved him too, it would be a boldfaced lie, and I’m sure that he’d sense it. Once, I think I may have been close to loving him, now he provided more of a comfort zone for me than anything else. That wasn’t necessarily bad, just not what I was looking for in a man. I kept a steady stream of girlfriends around for that very thing. They required little to no maintenance and would rather die than fuck around on me. They also never freaked out about tampons in the trash, and that in itself was priceless.
I felt the tension of the day slip out of Trevor’s shoulders, and heard him snoring softly. Counting to one hundred, I climbed carefully out of his bed, and searched around his room for my clothing. I managed to find everything but my bra. I’d make do somehow. Besides, according to the pictures of the models on the magazine covers, going natural was all the rage.
Models, the very thought of Amazonian women with breast implants and four hundred dollars shoes made my blood boil. Every time I flipped through a magazine, I tried to guess how many of them my boyfriend had screwed. The numbers I came up with were staggering. Served me right for dating a male model. When he wasn’t primping, he was thinking about primping.
I dressed quietly next to the bed, every now and then glancing over at Trevor lying there, just to be sure he didn’t catch me. His slender body was so long that his feet just missed hanging off the end of the bed. His blonde head of hair covered his face enough that I couldn’t tell how soundly he was asleep. Creeping towards the door, I held my breath, not wanting to say good-bye to him, but not wanting to stay either. I wanted to play the coward and disappear. As wonderful as a girl-power moment sounded, I didn’t have the stomach to look him in the eye as I crushed his world like he’d done mine so many times before.
I wasn’t worried about what he’d think when he woke up in the morning. He knew that I had an early audition. This one was for a part that would require the blending of Thai dancing and ballet. I’d studied all forms of dance and felt most confident in my Eastern styles. The fact that my skin was olive never hurt when auditioning for parts like this. It did come into play when I’d been cast as a back up in a Swedish play. I spent the entire time powdered to the hills and ended up a sticky mess at the end of each show.
Yeah, there was nothing quite like keeping time when sweat soaked powder dripped into my eyes. After a rather nasty break out, I vowed never to do that again.
I’d been in the city now for nearly three years. My twenty-fourth birthday approached fast. In my mind, I’d already had myself headlining my own Broadway show by now. It’s not like I was getting any younger. My name wasn’t in lights, hell, it wasn’t even in small print on the playbill.
I’d wanted to be one of the greatest dancers New York had ever seen. No, that hadn’t happened. Still mainly in the chorus, I danced in the background and watched as someone else stole the spotlight. I told myself that as long as I was paid that it didn’t bother me--I lied. Lying to myself should have been a good indicator to get out of Dodge, but I’d never been one to take a hint.
"It’s all about who you know," my mother had said to me before I left for the city. I told her that she knew nothing about the world of dance and that I didn’t care that I went against her wishes. She’d refused to pay for college when I told her that I was studying performing arts, and she’d never once come to any of my shows. She insisted that I’d never make it as a ballerina, funny thing was, I never claimed to be one. I studied more modern forms of dance, but my mother would have to know me to know that.
My mother and I had never seen eye to eye. I was her mistake, her accidental pregnancy resulting from a chance meeting in a bar in New Mexico. Her short little stop to visit with a friend had left her with an eighteen year obligation--me. The only information she had to give me when I asked about my real father was that he was part Native American, or at least that’s what she thought he was. She had no name and couldn’t even tell me the city she’d been in at the time.
Yeah, she was a real help.
My mother married when I was seven. Barton was a good man. He treated me well. He treated his biological children better though. Who could blame him, they all matched. My mother with her head of sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, and Barton with his matching blue eyes and even blonder hair looked like the poster family for Mattel. Yes, they had produced two of the most beautiful girls ever, Cindy and Jessica. I called home to talk to them as much as I could. They were good girls. Cindy was heading into eighth grade, and Jessica was entering fifth. Our age differences prevented us from being too close. I felt more like their aunt than their sister, and I looked nothing like them. My light olive skin, dark brown eyes, and straight black hair were a far cry from their Californian surfer looks. Most people assumed that I was Italian or maybe Mexican when they saw me. I didn’t correct them--it was none of their business.
I locked Trevor’s door on my way out, and headed down the hallway. I checked my watch, and found that it was almost ten. I could still catch a taxi, and make it to bed by eleven if I was lucky. I didn’t want to blow this audition. I needed the work. My rent was due, and my roommate had just informed me that she was moving to Las Vegas to dance in a show there. I told her that she’d most likely end up in feathers and fishnet stockings, but she didn’t care, she’d had enough with the job market around here.
Pulling my sweatshirt over my head, I yanked it down tightly over my face. It was long enough to cover my hands, and I was happy about that, considering how cold the night was. I blew two quick breaths into my cupped hands and walked on. I knew that I’d have better luck catching a taxi down the block. Trevor lived tucked back in a ways, not too many cab drivers ventured down that far. They stayed where the tips were good.
Who could blame them?
I noticed the same group of teens that had been hanging out on the corner for the past few weeks walking towards me. The first time I’d seen them at night, I’d been a little nervous. Now, after a few weeks of walking past them, I was used to them. They stuck to themselves, and rarely moved off the street corner. They hadn’t bothered me and I hadn’t bothered them, it seemed like a good arrangement to me.
I watched my feet as I walked. It was an old habit that I’d been trying to break since my move to the city. Glanced around for signs of any yellow cabs, I found none. Of course, having one available when I needed one would have made my day a bit better and we couldn’t have that, could we? It would leave me with fewer things to complain about, thus putting a kink in my sarcastic wit.
I could feel the heavy weight of a pending thunderstorm all around me. The season was right for one and the bizarre shifts in temperature throughout the day had been making the weathermen go mad with severe storm warnings. He seemed to take great pride in breaking into every show I tried to watch.
I’d be lucky to find a cab. Oh, well, if all else failed, I’d make it to the subway and take that. Riding the subway was my least favorite way to get around the city. Nothing compared to that high of sitting next to a man who had never heard of a modern invention called a shower, or trying to play ‘guess that smell’ on the six.
I preferred walking, but female and alone at night in the city didn’t add up to anything good. My guess was that short of carrying a wad of hundred dollar bills, I was breaking every ‘stay safe’ rule around. A blinking sign would have cost me too much, so that was out of the question.
A smashed tin can flew past my head, and startled me. The hair on the back of my neck rose and adrenaline kicked in. Spinning around, I found myself surrounded by the group of teenagers from the corner. I tried to do a head count, but my nerves got the best of me and I lost count around twelve. None of them looked a day over eighteen, and all of them looked anxious.
Never a good mix.
I glanced behind me to see if there was anyone around to help me. No one was there--I was on my own.
Guess those ‘stay safe’ rules had some merit.
I turned to run, and was caught by two of the boys instantly. I struck out at one and he punched me in my stomach. Pain radiated through my abdomen and I screamed out as another one grab me by my long hair, and yanked me backwards. I clawed at one’s eyes, and ripped a handful of hair out of another. They screamed obscenities at me as they continued to try to pin me down. I knew if they managed to get me down and into the secluded alley, my chances of coming out of this alive were slim to none.
I kicked out and one of them grabbed hold of my foot and twisted it. Hot searing pain shot up through my leg. My mouth formed around a scream that remained lodged in my throat. The combination of terror and pain had stolen my voice. All that I had left were tears, and they flowed freely from me.
Another blow hit me in my face, and I had to spit the blood out that welled up in my mouth to keep from choking on it. The hot, coppery liquid continued to flow regardless of how many times I expelled it from me. In an instant, the attackers were on me, pinning me down on the ground and gathering around me. Stuck on my back, and at the mercy of gang members, I found my voice. It was faint, but there. With a force I didn’t know I possessed, I screamed out. A boot to the side of the head silenced me.
"Come on man, hurry up…we ain’t got all night!"
"No, man … we gotta do this right. He’ll check her ya know, he’ll want to make sure ... If you want in then...." Their words began to blend. I wasn’t able to make out what they were saying. I felt removed from myself. Fear took over and I could no longer think clearly.
A dark haired boy leaned over me, and tried to pull my sweatpants down. I kicked and hit at him in an attempt to keep him at arm’s length. Someone yanked my wrists back, and I lashed out at them with my good leg. My heart pounded so hard that I could hear it in my ears. The rhythmic thumpty-thump served to temporarily drown out the cries from the others. They’d been yelling to get things moving along faster. Apparently, my murder wasn’t going fast enough for them.
I heard someone screaming and prayed that they would bring help. Hope rose in me, and for a brief moment I thought that my savior had come, before the awful realization hit me that that someone screaming was only me.
I kept kicking my dancer strong legs out at them. Several of them flew off me, but not before they’d managed to rip my sweatshirt open. Not having a bra on left my breasts fully exposed to them. The shock of what was about to happen to me sunk in and, without thought, the need to survive prevailed. I kicked out again, and my leg was met with a thud from a wooden bat that appeared in one of the boys’ hands. There was a sickening thud, followed closely by something in my leg popping. White hot pain tore through my body and vomit rose in my throat.
Screams tore free from me as I cried out for help that never seemed to come. The bat boy took two more full wind-ups, then blows, before I felt nothing. As sick as it seemed, it was truly a blessing.
Someone’s fingers wrapped deep into my hair and slammed my head against the pavement. My vision blurred, and I could fell the inside of my head rattle. I tried to push myself up and off the ground, but I had nothing left in me. I heard something growling, and the boys pulled away from me. I struggled to get my swelling eyes to open. When I did, I wasn’t sure if I had a concussion or not, because I thought I saw one of the boys fly past me with his arm bent at a funny angle.
Growls sounded all around me. It was as if I’d been dropped into the center of a kennel at feeding time. One by one my attackers piled up before me, each broken and bruised, but from what I could gather, alive.
It was a shame, really.
Lifting my head, I felt a wave of nausea sweep over me. I tried to focus, but I couldn’t make sense of the furred creature I was seeing. Was it a dog? Was it a wolf? It was massive, bigger than any dog I’d ever seen. Its shiny amber coat reflected the dim streetlight and made it seem almost supernatural. For a few minutes, I was sure that it was a figment of my imagination, but it moved towards me. I drew in my breath, expecting it to be my last. The animal’s snout nuzzled my check, and I waited for it to go for my throat. It licked my forehead and nudged me gently.
My gaze fell onto its paws, and I saw blood. It’d been injured in the fight with the boys. I reached out towards it, and slid my hands softly over its wounds. The dizziness that had been threatening me moments before returned. I tried to hold onto it, and felt its paws shift into human hands under the weight of my fingers. Darkness swallowed me whole, and I welcomed it.
THE KING'S CHOICE
by
Mandy M. Roth
© copyright May 2005, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright May 2005
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
King Jakov of Braluse sat at his throne and waited as his head advisor, Andrija, led the females in one by one. The act of selecting a queen wasn't one he relished. His harem would continue to see to his needs, as they always had. He had no use for a woman to sit by his side and rule the Kingdom of Braluse with him. He'd done so on his own for centuries.
However, the prophecy called for the choosing of a queen by the night of the sixth red moon of his reign. Disobeying and angering the gods was not something Jakov wanted to do. Red moons occurred once every one hundred years and if he didn't select a queen by the rise of this one, he would never have an heir. That was not acceptable.
His people, the Avistaurus' of Braluse--part human, part shifter, were immortal. The entire planet of Hafoca was inhabited with various forms of bird-like shifters. All the tribes were able to shift into a bird of prey. In addition to shifting into a bird of prey, they could also shift into some other animal. That, of course, was dependant upon the tribe. The Avistaurus' shifter forms were that of an eagle and a bull. His child would share in these traits if it was male, as all males did.
The females on Hafoca, were only immortal once they began to take a male's semen internally on a regular basis. It was a way to assure that only the finest female specimens lived forever. The sick, the diseased, and the malformed lived short lives. It was not a kind way of life, but necessary to the survival of their breed and tribe.
Each virgin made her way past Jakov. Their faces were veiled with only their eyes showing, giving them an air of mystery. Gold chains adorned their near-naked bodies. Each was beautiful, toned, free from signs of aging but none made his cock stir and his chest burn. It was too much to hope that the woman he was forced to select would actually appeal to his carnal sexual nature. No. He would be lucky to find one he even wanted to bother sinking his cock into long enough to impregnate her with his child. Thankfully, he would be able to roll off the wench and allow the harem to see to giving him adequate relief.
Andrija cast him a wary look and motioned for the virgin nearest him to leave the room. The girl's eyes were wide with fear as they hurried from the room. He wasn't sure why he was so feared. He thought himself a fair ruler. Merciful. Strong. Fearless. The people seemed to have a different opinion of him.
"King Jakov, many women have passed by you this day, yet you have seen none."
Rolling his eyes, Jakov shrugged. "I have seen them all, Andrija."
"Then why have you not selected one?"
Jakov rose slowly. "None have called to me, brother. None have made me cease to think about any but them. We live long lives and I do not wish to remain tethered to a woman that I am indifferent too. If at all possible, I would rather not have to tolerate my wife."
Andrija arched a dark brow. "Do my ears deceive me or could it be that the great, powerful King Jakov wishes to be in love with his wife?"
Not wanting to subject himself to his brother's obvious amusement, Jakov laughed the idea off. "Brother, I merely wish to be able to sink my cock into the woman that will lie next to me for eternity and it remain hard long enough to give my seed to her."
"I see." The look on Andrija's face told him that his attempt at justifying the innate need to be drawn to the one he must choose was not going over with him.
It wasn't as though Jakov wanted to have these feelings. No. He wanted to be like so many other kings before him. He wanted to pick a wife that was prime stock to assure his sons would be both handsome and healthy.
"Would sampling the women help?" Andrija asked, his dark brown eyes locked firmly on Jakov.
The thought of bedding several virgins in one sitting did sound interesting. Shifting his robe slightly, Jakov felt the stirrings of arousal deep within him. He wasn't worked up enough for his dick to harden but it at least seemed to be interested in the prospect of taking the virginity of many. That was one of his favorite things to do. "Perhaps. Send the next one in. I shall have her wait here for the others then I shall allow her the pleasure of servicing me."
"Very well, my king."
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