by Anne Marsh
Eventually, I listened to the little voice, rewrote and expanded the story, and THE HUNT was born and was published by Dorchester Publishing in 2009. I’ve always enjoyed its precursor, however, and thought it would be fun to share with you. If you enjoy it, there are more kinky cat hijinks in the full-length book. I’ve included that original full-length novel here as well for those readers who prefer third person narration.
Pharon’s
Demon
(A Prequel to The Hunt)
Chapter One
Planet Zemelda.
Certain obvious difficulties presented themselves when you came from a race of highly successful intergalactic pirates. Bennu’s people had more than enough money to buy their own small planet hidden in an out-of-the-way galaxy, and her own brothers had proved quite happy to follow in the family footsteps. Anhur, Kneph and Kontar were skilled thieves who conducted daring raids in the small, bullet-shaped ships that her engineer-mother had designed just for that purpose. Two of them even specialized in reconnaissance thefts, going undercover to spirit away whatever object had caught their fancy. Pin-up posters across the galaxy featured their faces, smiling, winking and oozing sex appeal. Catch one of her brothers and he’d brazen it out with flashing dimples and smooth, golden charm. Bennu had watched women melt at their feet, happy to hand over whatever piece of jewelry or expensive statuary her brothers had been apprehended in the midst of thieving.
Her brothers were excellent pirates.
She, on the other hand, was not.
She knew how to skulk and dodge, how to rappel up smooth walls and into security-riddled vaults and mansions. She’d mastered those skills at just as young an age as her brothers had. She could fence, shoot, and arm-wrestle an opponent with as much élan as any of her brothers. It wasn’t the derring-do part of things that got her in trouble. It was the getting caught part.
Bennu loved getting caught. Other thieves feared being caught; they did everything in their power to prevent it. She, however—she got hot and wet remembering the times she’d been caught. And yet none of her captors had ever punished her like she deserved. Like she secretly wanted. Hell, the last time, the warlord from whom she’d been purloining a particularly spectacular gold dagger had laughed at her effrontery and tumbled straight back into his furs, without any other sort of prelude. She preferred more in the way of foreplay than spreading her legs, even if he was deliciously large and brawny.
There had to be someone out there willing and ready to teach a girl a well-deserved lesson.
Wherever he was, he wasn’t here. The Director of Intergalactic Piracy Planning continued his lecture on her shortcomings in the piracy-planning arena, forcing her attention back to what her life was rather than what it could be. He strode back and forth in front of his desk, the dark material of his blacksuit pulling slightly over his paunch. Somehow he managed to look stern and disapproving even as he advocated theft. You’d have thought he was calling her on the carpet for kicking small, fuzzy animals or stealing candy from orphans.
“You need to pull your own weight around here,” he concluded, clearly finishing up the canned part of his speech.
She took issue with that. “I do. Believe me, I do.”
He sighed, a disappointed sound as familiar as the speech. “I’m sure everyone appreciates your willingness to pitch in and do whatever needs to be done, Bennu, but there’s only so far that fetching, carrying and creative accounting can get you in this business.”
Her last official job had been six months ago—the warlord with the dagger. Her brothers believed her spectacular failure to bring home the prize was due to a lack of skills on her part. They’d spent every subsequent waking minute—when they weren’t out collecting more jewels and gold coins to add to Zemelda’s already overflowing coffers—training her to sneak around and to disguise herself. They’d sent her clambering over walls and sliding along ropes. Not only was the constant work-out exhausting, but the only sexual satisfaction she found now was what she gave herself. Living at home was worse than living in a cloister. A quick hand job in the dead of night—particularly when her family had the night vision of cats and were stealthy enough to make knowing where they were more guesswork than certainty—was nowhere near as satisfying as skin-on-skin sex. And it was nowhere near as satisfying as hot, wet bump-and-grind after some alpha male paddled her ass in retaliation for theft and then stuffed her sex so full of hot, juicy cock that the come leaked out of her all the way back to Zemelda. She squirmed, just thinking of it.
“So tell me my mission,” she demanded. The unspoken words last chance hung in the air, but it was easier to pretend if some things remained unsaid.
“Have you heard of Zeberget?” The director cued a series of images on the computer screen. She hadn’t, but that lack was apparently about to be remedied. “It’s a small, arid planet that belongs to the Pharon dynasty. It takes weeks to get there, even traveling as fast as you can. No stops,” he warned, clearly familiar with her usual behavior. Damn. So much for visiting the pleasure quarters of Rtut.
“What do they have that the Family wants?” She’d have to go fetch whatever it was that They wanted, but good intel was not to be sneezed at—and the Director’s was usually of the highest caliber. Which made it interesting that he suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Spill,” she coaxed when he hesitated.
“Zeberget is known for its mines, with several veins of topaz running deep below the planet’s surface. The raw stones from the mines are worth fortunes by themselves and the Family wants you to retrieve a bag of uncut stones. Because the stones are shipped off-surface as soon they are brought up from the mines, you’ll need to go down into one of the shafts and cut out your own stones.”
“That’s it?” It sounded too simple. There would be armed guards and all the difficulties of arranging transport, but this sounded like an in-and-out sort of an operation. And completely uninteresting.
The Director shook his head—this must have been the good part he’d hesitated to disclose. “The problem with Zeberget is that the Pharon dynasty apparently has some sort of deal with the underworld demons.”
Underworld demons were definitely more interesting.
“The demons guard the mines.” Images marched across the screen as he clicked his pointer. A stark, hot desert world in full summer bloom against a jewel-blue sky. The harsh jut of volcanic mountain peaks. A few clusters of peach-colored buildings with soft swooping curves and arches, sweltering in the arid heat, followed by the generous spill of white sand against the welcome edges of the ocean. All lush and exotic. If she’d been in the market for a vacation, she would have been all sign-me-up. What she didn’t see, however, were any pictures of the hot underworld demons. That was an interesting omission.
“You’ll go in by spaceship,” he continued. “Be prepared for a water landing. We’re not sure what sorts of creatures live in the oceans on Zeberget, but be prepared for trouble.”
“And once I’ve landed?”
“A local will guide you to the closest mine shaft. The Pharons have a few caretakers living on the surface.” The Director stopped the slideshow on the picture of a pink-colored masonry building with a domed roof. “The guards, however, live belowground. Above ground, there’s not too much to worry about besides the occasional sand storm or scorpion.”
Wonderful. Why had she been chosen for this job?
“I understand,” she said, because that was the correct answer, and snapped her handheld closed. The Director transferred the files from his computer to her device before standing up.
“Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks.” She turned for the door. Let’s get this show on the road.
“Bennu.” He said her name with an audible sigh. “Don’t get caught this time. The Family won’t give you another chance.”
Sure she wouldn’t. Using sex to finesse your way out of a bungled bit of thievery didn’t seem fair. It was just her luck she was so damn good at it.
&nb
sp; She gave the Director a cheeky salute and made a beeline for the docking stations and her spaceship.
Chapter Two
Planet Zeberget.
Bennu set the spacecraft down in the shallow lagoon ringing the main continent of Zeberget, wincing as the metal exterior scrapped loudly across the exposed corals. Low tide. Her data was incomplete. Instead of slipping quietly through the atmosphere and landing in the dead of night, she’d put down in the middle of the afternoon and on top of an entire coral reef. In ten minutes, she’d done more to damage the local ecosystem than any of the planet’s inhabitants had done in a lifetime. Damn and double damn.
She swam to shore, wishing she’d brought her diving gear. The surface reef plunged steeply just beyond her landing place in a fantastic display of soft corals. Colorful gorgonians spread their skeletal fingers, undulating slightly in the currents. Shoals of fish darted to and fro and, far below, she saw the spotted crescent of a ray gliding along the sandy bottom. Without the weapon-toting demon guards, the Pharon could make a killing selling package tours. She’d be the first to sign up to spend her free summers here.
The tribesman waiting for her on the shore looked displeased. “They didn’t tell me that they were sending a woman.”
Too bad, so sad.
His gaze traveled down the length of her body and back up again. Apparently, he found her regulation Lycra blacksuit more attractive than some did. “You should return to your ship. This is not a good place for you.”
She was here now. Threats weren’t going to stop her. “Just take me to the mine shaft,” she said, hoisting her pack onto her back.
He turned and began striding back up the beach. Bennu followed, the heavy sand dragging at her footsteps, the sun-heated air making her blacksuit stick to her skin. A rivulet of sweat ran down the curve of her spine.
“Is this heat normal?” Best to know what she was facing. And to plan on a wardrobe change if she made a return trip.
Her guide shrugged. “These are the summer months. The heat is more intense now. They told you, did they not, what you will find down in the mines? Are you sure that you still wish to descend?”
“Yes,” she said. “I came here to do a job and I’m going to do it. A pack of demons isn’t stopping me.” She’d never had hot, crazy demon sex before. With luck, she could snag the topazes and a demon before she headed back to her ship.
“There are snakes,” the man argued, clearly certain that he could dissuade her.
A low hill rose beyond the beach. Studded with date palms, the gentle slope presented a dark smudge on the horizon. It was also their destination, unless she missed her guess.
“Snakes,” she repeated. That was a new one.
“Yes.” The man smiled. Point for him! “Snakes fill the shafts.”
The damn Director had said nothing about snakes, but a job was a job—and this was her last chance. That had been her takeaway message from the Director’s last meet-and-greet.
“If you hear a rasping sound,” her guide warned pleasantly as they started the upward ascent, “you will want to duck. It will be the snake launching itself at you. It is not a pleasant way to die. The serpents seek the warmest spots of the body to suckle and feed. Since it is summer and our world is baking in the heat, they have many choices.”
***
The shaft descended deep below ground. At least it would be cooler, right? Screwing up her courage, Bennu wrapped her legs around the rope the guide had tied to the outer edge of the shaft. She didn’t dare use her hand-held boosters to descend into the absolute darkness. There was too great a chance that the airflow would dislodge stone and dust from the walls of the shaft. Low tech, she groused. Why did her jobs always require taking the low-tech route? Would any of her brothers have found themselves descending, hand over hand, down a long rope?
Of course, there were advantages to going low tech. In addition to the thrill of hunting for treasure, the rope provided a delicious friction between the Lycra of her blacksuit and her pussy. With each foot she dropped, her arousal built as the rope rasped gently between her thighs. The blacksuit’s thin material had been designed to resist almost any tear or cut, but that same lack of bulk meant she felt every brush of the rope against her core. The smell of her own arousal filled the air around her. Damn. And all that waited for her at the bottom of the rope, according to the guide, were snakes.
Life wasn’t fair.
***
The demon waiting at the bottom of the shaft heard the soft whisper of the thief’s descent. Another fool come to steal what was not his. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he leaned back against the wall and savored the relative coolness of the stone. Even hundreds of feet below the surface, the tunnels baked in the summer heat. Like all his kind, Mkhai was lean and whipcord strong. Despite the lack of sun deep in their underworld kingdom, his skin was as golden-colored as those of the abovelanders. His dark leathers clung to every inch of his tall frame. He had not planned to patrol the tunnels tonight; having discovered the thief in mid-descent, however, he could not decide whether he was pleased or not that he had done so. Impatiently, he shoved a braid of dark hair away from his face.
The thief moved into sight. Mkhai’s eyes glowed golden in the darkness. Yes, come to me little thief. The unmistakable scent of female cream reached his sensitive nose and he took a second look at his thief. An unfamiliar but not unattractive black material clung to lithe, delicious curves, outlining each curve and dip. Pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, the female’s hair belied the sheer, lush impracticality of her body. Strong, flexible—and unmistakably feminine. How delightful. Perhaps he should take the time to teach this thief the error of her ways. After all—his mouth curved into a lush smile—he did have a responsibility to the Pharons. He should make quite certain that this thief did not repeat her mistakes of this evening.
He’d enjoy paddling that delicious little ass almost as much as he’d enjoy sinking his cock into her pussy.
***
Bennu’s feet touched bottom and a lean arm shot out of the darkness with snake-like rapidity. The arm twisted hers behind her back, while the other dragged her up against a hard, male body. No pain, but no escape.
“It was a mistake,” growled a raspy voice in her ears, “to come here for Pharon’s topazes. These mines are well-guarded, little femi. We do not tolerate thieves.”
Tilting her head back, she looked up into a face almost alien in its handsomeness. Gold eyes glowed at her beneath dark hair bound into hundreds of braids, each fastened with a small topaz. Her newest captor also had eminently lickable, tawny-colored skin and a deliciously firm mouth. There was nothing soft about this male at all. The throbbing between her legs intensified. He smiled slowly.
“You will get what you deserve here,” he promised.
He looked beyond her into the darkest of the tunnels branching off from the bottom of the shaft. To her mortification, she shrieked. Dozens of golden eyes stared back at her— and as many tall warriors. Well-defended by snakes, my ass, she thought. The only snakes here were of the male variety.
“What do you think, my brothers?” he called to their audience. “Shall we teach the little femi what happens to women who misbehave here?” As the masculine chuckles filled the air, cream spurted shamelessly between her thighs. Oh, yes. These males would not let her escape without paying for her crimes.
How delightful.
***
His little femi was delightfully eager for his discipline.
Erotic images flooded Mkhai’s mind. He would teach this one not to take what was not hers. He would enjoy the pleasures of mastering her. Already, his cock was a thick, hard stem begging to be planted deep in her wet sex. If his brothers had not joined them, he might have lacked the control to see to her disciplining first and taken her first. It was just the summer heat, he told himself: the mindless mating frenzy that seized them all when the sun blazed relentlessly in the abovelands, beating down on their stony w
orld, heating it—and their blood—until they found temporary release with their sex partners.
Unfortunately, there were few sex partners below grounds. Only those women the abovelanders had cast out or had marked for punishment. Pharon’s demons had no female of their own and no hope for release from the burning heat the sun built remorselessly in them unless they found their summer mates and their eyes burned golden for the chosen one. Given the lack of women here, the odds of that happening had seemed impossibly low.
And yet now—completely unexpected—he held a female. A feral possession welled up in him. His. His mate. He would make her so since the gods themselves had placed her in his arms.
“You are a lucky one,” called one of the other warriors. They glided smoothly out of the shadows, as drawn by the female’s presence as him. Would she enjoy sharing pleasures with such a number of warriors? There was only one way to find out. And, truly, he had vowed to show no mercy to the thieves who thought to wrest their topazes from the mines, from Pharon.
“Tell me your name,” he demanded against her ear as the sun’s heat tore through him, thickening his cock further. Would she take every inch of him when he crammed himself into her sex? Or would she whimper with the agonizingly sweet pleasure of just the thick tip, thrusting in and out of her greedy, wet sex until she howled for more—and he gave it to her?
Her breath huffed out in a small sigh.
“Absolutely not,” she declared, shaking her head. “There are conventions to be adhered to here. Name telling—not one of them.”
“Do not be stubborn, femi,” he crooned, letting his breath whisper over the smooth shell of her ear. Good. She shivered. She was deliciously sensitive. Delicately, he licked the curve, tasting her flesh and giving her the smallest hint of pleasure.