[Draven's Crossing 1] Hidden Diversions

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[Draven's Crossing 1] Hidden Diversions Page 14

by Selena Illyria


  Everything was comfortable, warm and safe. When he felt the drag of a damp, warm rag over his chest, stomach and around his groin, he didn’t comment. He closed his eyes and allowed Isy to take care of him. She would protect him, keep him safe, and now he knew she could give him what he wanted sexually, even if he hadn’t thought it would work out.

  He wondered if she would be willing to allow him to tie her down and pleasure her. The scent of her desire still floated on the air, and he could taste her banked need, but she said nothing about her current aroused state.

  “Isy,” he started, his voice gruff and slurred.

  “Shhh, it’s okay; just relax. No need to take care of me yet. Just recover and then you can tie me down and make me cry out.” Isy pressed a kiss on his thigh as she got off the bed and returned a minute later to finish cleaning off his dick.

  Goddess, Isadora was truly perfect.

  * * * *

  “Stay away from me!” Michaela screamed as she threw a vase at his head.

  Abbott ducked out of the way and kept running after her. Sweat bathed his face, and his shirt was stuck to his back. His fist clenched the large syringe. He had to get her back to his house; his DNA was all over the place. I have to call Ariel to come clean this mess up.

  Michaela stopped running, yanked a sword off the wall and then rushed at him with the weapon. A warrior scream echoed in a language he didn’t understood. All he knew was he had to avoid getting skewered. She lunged at him and the sharp edge sliced a neat opening in his shirt, barely missing his flesh by millimeters.

  Abbott called upon the gifts his maker had bestowed upon him to make him stronger and faster. His gums ached and bled as hunger ticked in his veins and pinged around his stomach. His muscles heated up as he sped around her and grabbed her wrist. He wrenched the sword from her grip. She let out a howl of pain as she sank to her knees. Her hand was pulled back in an odd angle.

  He didn’t give it much thought. Instead, he took the pause in the action to jam the needle into her neck and depressed the plunger. She let out a scream, eyes widening, pupils dilated and body shuddering as her small mouth fell open. Finally, she fell to the floor in a heap, eyes lifeless, body slack, and wrist broken.

  Abbott drew in a deep breath, smoothed his shirt down and looked around. A quiet calm descended upon him. Michaela was done. No more fighting. He could focus as the haze of need turned to a simmering heat in his body, but the hunger continued to beat in his blood. A swift assessment of the situation showed that the condo was a complete mess. There was no time to get things cleaned up. He saw droplets of blood on the floor. The distant howl of sirens drew his attention. The sound was too close for his comfort.

  “Damn it.” He spat out. There was nothing he could do except pray that the blood was hers and he hadn’t left behind any DNA that could lead back to him. He gathered up Michaela’s lifeless body, grabbed his coat and rushed out of the house, leaving the door open behind him. There was no use in trying to hide now. One more offering to Isy to show his affection for her and this last body was perfect for his ritual. He sped through the dank, damp back streets of Draven’s Crossing until he got home.

  “Ariel! Ariel get in here!” he shouted as he entered his house. His progeny milled around the living room, watching some program featuring a shouting chef. They gazed at him as one, hunger in their eyes.

  Ariel appeared in a flash, chest heaving, panting out a breath. She bowed before him. “Master?”

  “Get my lab ready. Send out a group of children to the all night florists, take the petty cash and make sure they’re not seen. I need at least a hundred perfect roses, different hues and colors.” He shifted his burden in his arms and gazed around the room. Abbott had acquired at least twenty children over the years, carefully selected from the homeless and runaways. No one anyone would miss. “Build a pyre stage and then call Ivan. I’m going to need his help.”

  Without any explanation, he went to his lab and deposited Michaela’s body onto a stainless steel examination table. His hands shook as he pulled back. One last body, one last offering. This one had to be right. She had to understand this gift, had to. Ariel came into the room as Abbott began stripping off his clothes. He handed them to Ariel. “Burn them.”

  She gave him a phone, which he accepted with some trepidation. Ivan Evanson wouldn’t be happy.

  “What? I’m busy over here.” Evanson’s tone was clipped and heated with anger.

  “We have a problem. I found another candidate, Isadora Jones’ assistant, but she fought me. We were loud. I need you to step in.” Abbott waited for Evanson to shout at him.

  “Fine but she better have been worth it. I’ll give them something else to chase.” Evanson hung up without a good-bye.

  Abbott felt uneasy. He didn’t like what Evanson did, not in the least, but it was necessary to advance their ideals. The Councils’ ideals, even if they didn’t know it. Cold air caused goose bumps to rise over his bare skin. Rather than get dressed he got to work, first dragging two canisters over to the table, arranging Michaela’s body and readjusting the table so that she was strapped in and hung upside down. He slashed at one of her wrists and allowed the blood to start draining into the metallic bucket. It would take some time, so for now he had to establish an alibi.

  He headed upstairs and showered then came downstairs to the living room where he settled in on a couch. Normally, he hated to interact with his children but this was necessary. He picked up the remote and brought up the DVR menu, selected an episode of a show that had aired an hour ago and began to watch the show about overly tanned people running a business and partying on the weekends. His stomach rebelled at the drivel, but he had to know every second of the show in order to prove that he was indeed here. His children would give him an alibi, no problem, but no one would believe them. They all had that glassy eyed drugged-out look that made people unreliable.

  Besides that, he didn’t want the police to look too closely at some of his progeny. The younger ones had parents that were looking for them and until he was done with them he wouldn’t be giving anyone back.

  * * * *

  Evanson walked around the cage. “Is he ready for another venture out?”

  The doctor in the lab coat looked over the chart. “Yes, sir. He fed last night but could use another hour or two out. He’s been a bit aggressive.” The doctor gazed at him expectantly.

  Evanson moved closer to the cage and stuck his hand in, ignoring the gasp from the doctor. “I need you to behave, okay?”

  The man in the cage pressed his face against Ivan’s palm and purred. He gazed at Evanson with pained brown-green eyes. His mottled skin shifted from tan to alabaster and back to bronze. He nodded at Ivan.

  “Good boy. You’ll also be getting a new infusion soon, something to help with the pain. I promise. You’ve been so good to me so far. Don’t fail us now.” Evanson smiled and turned to the doctor. “Prep him. My assistant will give the address.”

  Evanson left as a ripple of heat rolled over him. Pain lanced his stomach. He gritted his teeth to hold back the howl of pain that formed in his throat. His hands shook as he staggered up the stairs. He rushed to the nearest bathroom and threw open the medicine cabinet, shoving various bottles around until he found the right one, popped the top and shook the contents out into his mouth. He just wanted the heat and ache to stop. Evanson swallowed down the tablets and sank to his knees as the fire in his body increased and the ache grew until it shuddered down his arms.

  He curled up in a ball, tears in his eyes as he allowed his symptoms to take over his body, praying for it to end.

  Chapter Eleven

  NO STATUS UPDATES.

  Nothing to report. -Isadora Jones, DC News Blast

  Detective Santa Rosa looked around the room. She could smell the slight sweetness of decay that vampires couldn’t cover up, well as far as shifters were concerned, and yet this one had a bit of bite to it. And then there was the earthiness of the Elves mingled in
to it along with the metallic tang of blood. It looked like an enraged teenager’s room with things broken and thrown around carelessly but no sign of the vampire or elf. The coroner had said the blood they’d found on the scene was vampire mixed in with elf but until she could run tests to determine if it was the same person or two different people and what their sexes were, they had only the neighbors accounts to go on.

  Her full body suit and booties crunched as she walked around the place. Since this wasn’t a murder she hadn’t called in Torger. As far as the DCPD was concerned until proven otherwise it was a domestic altercation gone bad. Right now their techs were combing through the security footage to see who Michaela O’Connor, Isadora Jones’ assistant, had come home with. Neighbors hadn’t really paid much attention until they heard screams and shouting and things breaking. Other than that, they minded their own business. It was a nice area, quiet, filled with the working lower middle class.

  She looked around. Every condo looked alike with the exception of the yards. Some had gardens or trees or just grass but that was it. White siding, same number of windows, all neat little houses that were only a few feet apart, yet no one had heard or seen anything to really help her. She shook her head. I’m getting too old for this shit. Alyssa turned and went back into the house. Sweat bathed her face as a roll of thunder sounded in the distance. She put her goggles back on, pulled the mask back up and entered Michaela’s home.

  Police officers milled around and someone with intelligence had called the HellHound unit. It irked her that they didn’t consult her, she was ranking officer here, but she decided not to bite someone’s head off. If this got them answers faster, then whatever. She walked around the scene one more time.

  “Bag everything and have the techs recreate the scene back at the station’s warehouses. Let’s wrap things up.” She walked up to the head of the HellHound Unit, Mike Sampson. “Mike, you know what to do. Just make sure no one is bitten, okay? We’re too close to the full moon, and I don’t want more bloodshed just because tempers are high.”

  Mike nodded. “Understood.”

  He walked off and for a second Alyssa allowed herself the moment of watching his tight, muscular ass covered in denim. God I need a man, she thought to herself. She took one more look around the living room then the foyer area and shook her head. Please, don’t let this be the serial killer. We don’t need another body. Her gaze snagged on the blood trail. But if he’s fucked up, then I’ll take it. What the hell are you doing, Torger? Where are you?

  * * * *

  Torger secured the handcuffs around her wrists and gave them one last check over before he went to the foot of the bed and looked over the Velcro straps. Wicked delight tingled down his spine. He had Isy at his mercy. Her hair formed a dark halo, streaked with dark pink threads. In the golden light of the candles, her cocoa skin was gilded as her eyes burned with desire. Ripples of pink scales appeared and disappeared on her skin. For a moment, he stood fixated on the rare display. Her dragon had decided to come out to play.

  Fire appeared in her eyes, turning them to a molten gold. “Are you gonna stare or are you gonna fuck me?” she challenged.

  He grinned. All that fire for me. If he could purr, he would. Instead, he climbed onto the bed and settled down on his stomach, like she did earlier. Her glistening pussy lips, flushed red and her thick, distended clit beckoned him. He inhaled her musky scent of desire, impressing it to his memory to replay later. This would be his first time with her, and he wanted to take his time, give her as much pleasure as she could handle and push her beyond her limits.

  Rather than dive in and eat her out, he turned his head and pressed his mouth to her inner thigh. Her skin was silken heat under his lips as he gave her open mouthed kisses, nipping and sucking her flesh. His reward was her gasps and groans as her legs shook and her body writhed. He transferred from one leg to another as he gazed up her body to watch her reactions. Full lips parted as she gasped and thrashed her head on the pillow. Sweat shone on her face and her chest. The tightened tips of her breasts begged for his touch and mouth.

  He refocused on her glistening pussy lips. He took a slow lick, first up one side and down the other, pausing to rim her dripping entrance. Tang and salt rolled over his taste buds. He groaned. Torger needed more, he needed to gorge himself on her cream. He buried his face between her thighs, licking, sucking, nipping and drinking her honey until it smeared his chin and mouth. His nose nudged her clit. She rocked her hips against his lips.

  His name was a chant that filled the air along with her cries. Her body shook around him as she came. He didn’t bother to stop it. His whole world narrowed down to making her come over and over again. Torger shifted on the bed as blood filled his shaft, thickening it. He couldn’t stop the movement of his body as he flexed his hips, driving his cock against the blankets to get some friction, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel the sweet squeeze of her vagina around his dick. The bliss of driving into her body over and over again as he sucked and nipped the tips of her breasts.

  Instead, he continued to eat her out until her body twitched and her moans of pleasure fell silent. He lifted his head to take her in. Her eyes were shut and her breath came out in pants. He grinned and kissed his way up her body, going over her flat stomach and traced the under sides of her breasts with his tongue.

  “Still alive?” he teased as he circled one breast with his tongue.

  “Barely, but I can take anything you dish out, wolfie,” she growled. She opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her eyes burned with deep brown fire and pink sparks.

  He and his wolf accepted the challenge and sucked one of her thick nipples into his mouth. With strong tugs and pulls, he drew out more gasps and groans. He could feel strength coming back to her body. Varying shades of pink scales rippled over her skin as blush colored smoke issued from her nostrils and mouth. Her body heat increased with each suck of his lips. A tremble of heat wound around his spine as her dragon emerged.

  Torger wasn’t scared in the least. He continued his ministrations to her body, going from one breast to the other. He could hear the rattle of the handcuffs and metal clinking against wood. The bed shook underneath him as she became more animated. Her cries, moans and groans were deeper, with an edge of a growl in them. He didn’t stop, instead, he kissed his way up her chest and neck to take her lips, swallowing the noises as he pressed his body to hers. Her nipples scored his chest as she moved underneath him.

  Isy’s curves complimented the hardness of his body. He wanted to keep her against him, hold her to him always. Torger closed his eyes and savored their closeness. A sharp prick on his shoulder made him look at her. Anger filled her eyes. “Fuck. Me,” she ordered.

  Her legs shook in their bonds and he heard the rip of Velcro in the air. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her wet heat to his cock, grinding her hips against his. The sweet friction sent threads of electricity through his body, rushing up his spine. The ache in his balls increased with each brush. He gritted his teeth as his wolf howled in his head, demanding the union.

  Pain lanced his body, shearing the heat of passion as his wolf’s energy surged forward to initiate the change. His fingers became longer and thicker as his fingernails grew to sharpened talons. Fur blossomed on his skin in ripples, coating his chest, back and arms. Torger let out a howl and took her lips in a hard, demanding kiss as he gave himself over to the wolf completely. A sharp snick of metal snapping sounded from a distance. Isy’s arms twined around his neck as she responded to his kiss. Their bodies rocked against each other and rolled around the bed as both fought for dominance.

  Pain reverberated through his body and stole his breath when his head and spine smacked against the floor. Isy took that momentary pause to grab his cock and press the blunt, wide head to her entrance. In one swift move she pushed down, taking him into her tight sheath without a single pause. She placed her hands on his chest and held him down as she rode him, up and down in a hard ride th
at sped up the searing pressure in his body.

  Torger growled and snapped as the alpha in him didn’t want to be at her mercy. He grabbed her hips and rolled them around, took hold of her wrists, raised them over her head and held them there as he took over the rhythm. He pistoned his hips, fucking her hard and fast. Torger bent his head and took another possessive kiss before turning his head and biting down onto her shoulder. His teeth popped through the skin. Blood, salt and spice filled his mouth as he used the claiming bite to make her his mate. He poured the wolf magic that made him a shifter into her, binding their souls as the fire of the dragon merged with the earthiness of the wolf. Vines of heat wrapped around them, pulling them closer as he pressed his body down to hers. Her nipples scraped against his chest as he rocked against her.

  The flex and flutter of her vaginal muscles grasped and massaged his cock with each thrust. He held the bite until the telltale tingle filled his balls, buzzed around the base of his back and up his spine and swathed his brain. His testicles pulled closer to his body as he came. His shaft twitched, semen filled his rod and spurted deep into her core. He continued to fuck her until his balls were empty and he could no longer move. His body went limp as he rolled off of her panting with his heart racing. It was official now. Isadora Jones was all his, and no one could tear them apart.

  * * * *

  Abbott placed the last of the roses on the pyre. Michaela looked peaceful in her eternal sleep. Her skin pale and luminous, features relaxed and dressed in a gown that Ariel had found from one of his children who acted in local plays. It’s a shame I have to give her to the public. He shook his head and tucked his letter to Isadora under Michaela’s hand and then waved Ariel forward. “Put her in the hearse and drive her to Isadora’s studio. I would send her to the cabin but there’s no telling if the police have allowed her home yet.”

 

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