I shook my head. “I have to go. Isabella, I’m so sorry for my rudeness.”
As I fled the channel’s body, Taylor said, “Under the circumstances, I think she’ll forgive this.” She and Lana steadied Isabella as she regained control over herself.
I didn’t wait around to find out if I’d been pardoned. I fixed Sanderson Cottage in my mind and left.
Chapter Nineteen
Possessing Isabella and transporting to Sanderson Cottage took the edge off the energy overdose I’d pulled from the news van. I felt more like my normal self again, proving yet again how the Judge’s feeding had massively damaged my energy retention.
That concern moved to the back of my mind upon arrival. Security lights illuminated the front of the dollhouse cottage along with the Indian Mound and the stately oaks dripping moss on the front lawn. The illumination wasn’t nearly as bright as the lit-for-TV scene back at the courthouse, but it more than sufficed to bring the desperate battle into sharp relief.
Tristan and Patricia were still on their own, the cavalry I’d sent not having arrived yet. No trace of humanity remained in their bluish-white faces. All red-rimmed black eyes, switchblade claws and elongated fangs, the siblings stood back to back, slashing and biting any foe that dared to venture close enough. They were badly outnumbered, their skin and clothing slashed to ribbons in places where the overwhelming two dozen weres and vamps had scored on them, but neither gave an inch.
I noticed the wards floating in the air around them, giving them some semblance of protection. Without Erica to do her damage, Yelena’s magic remained in force here. As I watched, a weregator tossed a container of gasoline at them, trying to set the stage for burning the commissioner and his sister, much as I had the Judge. The liquid deflected back, spraying several of the traitors instead of the besieged vamps. Guns had already been abandoned, and I saw one shifter downed in a pool of blood, victimized by a ricocheted silver-infused bullet.
Even as relief to see the protection of the wards washed over me, a young vampire darted in close enough to tear a furrow into Tristan’s gut, leaving a flap of skin gaping open. Tristan’s backhand caught him, flinging him into the sky. The youth returned to the fray within seconds.
The wards helped, but the number of attackers was too much. Tristan and Patricia would not be able to fend off the Judge’s lackeys much longer. With half a dozen vampires darting in the air overhead, flight was no option for the pair either.
While I tried to figure out how I could help the beleaguered siblings, a hand gripped my shoulder. I turned to see my rugged Dan, his face a mixture of relief for my return and terror for Tristan and Patricia. “Brandilynn! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why is everyone attacking Tristan and Patricia?”
I hurried to explain. “The Judge sent them. He’s dead,” I added when Dan searched the chaotic scene for the serial killer. “Tristan’s people are on the way, but I don’t know how long it will take for them to get here. How can we help?”
“Running water,” Dan said, and he transported us both to the nearby waterfront. “Draw energy from the water, and then do what you can to slow the attack.”
We pulled hard on the field emitted by the swift current. Dan got us both back to the fight, and we did what we could. It wasn’t much. Weres and vampires are tough customers, and I quickly found yanking and punching didn’t faze them a bit. After a few minutes, I concentrated my efforts on tripping the attackers. That went a little better, though with most of the weres transformed and on all fours, I wasted my energy in many instances. The low-to-the-ground gators couldn’t be stopped by any means I had at my disposal. Without corporeal help, Tristan and Patricia didn’t have much longer.
I sank into dimness, my energy-bleeding self fading fast when Tristan’s vampires hit the scene. Boy, you’ve never heard such hellish shrieks as when vampire went against vampire, rending and tearing. That left the weres to worry at Tristan and Patricia, and I blanched to see the female vamp now on her knees, her brother standing over her and grimly defending her as best he could. A werehog got a mouthful of her thigh and tore a chunk of meat from her. She shrieked, but she sounded more furious than in pain.
I could only watch as Tristan’s loyal vamps surrounded the embattled pair, taking on the traitors in bloody conflict. Four of the enemy went down, but two of Tristan’s faithful were torn to bits. It was the most awful thing I’d ever witnessed and being powerless to help was a nightmare.
Five minutes that felt like five years later, a scream like a banshee’s wail split the night. I was half-frightened, half-thrilled to see a panther leap into the fray. Gerald and his army of werehogs, bears, and gators arrived, and they made short work of the traitors. Feeling almost insubstantial enough to float, I drifted to where Tristan tended his sister as his people finished off the grisly work. The paras took no prisoners, and I saw several weres eating the enemy dead. Gross.
The great black cat, as big as a pony, joined Tristan and Patricia. The fur receded mostly, and Gerald’s man shape emerged, glorious and muscular. “My lady,” he whispered, going to his knees and offering his neck.
Patricia’s head darted forward, as lethal as a rattlesnake, and I couldn’t help but cry out. Gerald only sighed, his dark face blissful as she buried her face in his neck, falling back to lie on Indian Mound. Patricia rutted frantically against his thigh, satisfying the other hunger without penetration. I had to look away despite the warped fascination that wanted me to watch the missing chunk of her thigh re-knit itself into existence.
“You don’t look so good,” Dan told me. He pulled me away from the still-wild scene towards the water again. The sound of police sirens warbled in the distance. The causeway from Fulton Falls to Goose Creek Island was five miles long across the marsh. Even the quickness of the paras wouldn’t clean up the mess before they arrived, however. For once, I rejoiced in not being alive. The coming investigation would have no effect on me at all.
“The Judge made me into a wraith. I can’t hold my energy.”
Dan sat me down on the edge of the pier. I sucked power from the running water like a man would down a beer after cutting an acre lawn with a push mower in the middle of August.
Dan’s arm tightened around me. He lifted me and planted me between his thighs so I could rest my back against his chest, my head on his shoulder. “How did you kill him?”
“Long story. I’ll tell you back at the library, when we’re away from all this. And when it’s daylight. I don’t want to talk about it in the dark.”
I drew and drew on the pulse of the current. Natural sources of energy are harder to gather. There wasn’t the heady rush I got from electronics, and it wasn’t as potent as feeding on other ghosts. But it seemed cleaner. Saner. Healthier.
The breeze brought me Tristan’s voice, smooth as molasses, as if he hadn’t been fighting for his afterlife minutes before. “Thank you, thank you all.”
Gerald had apparently given Patricia what she needed, because he was the one who reported. “Brandilynn warned us.”
“Brandilynn? How did she know we would be attacked?” Suspicious vampire, that Tristan. That’s okay. I don’t trust him after dark either.
Gerald again: “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. Why would these paras try to kill you, boss?”
“I don’t know. The weres attacked as we rose; the vampires came afterwards.”
Dan chuckled, his rumbling laughter as healing as the water’s energy. “You gotta lotta ‘splaining to do, Lucy.” He kissed my ear.
The police sirens were close now. They’d arrive in mere seconds, and I wouldn’t be able to clue Tristan in on all he needed to know. Oh well. He was a big boy. And a politician. He could handle it.
“This is going to be a mess,” Dan observed.
I shrugged and snuggled back as deep into his chest as I could manage. “It could have been worse,” I pointed out. It almost was.
Chapter Twenty
I stepped into the library and looked at
Dan and Tristan pouring over newspapers brought in by Gerald earlier that day. They muttered with their dark heads close together; Tristan’s nearly black hair slicked back with gracious style and Dan’s dark brown locks ruffled in carefree haphazardness.
The fight had been five days ago. The fallout over it was huge in terms of Tristan’s financial and professional interests.
Dan said, “I think as time passes your business revenues will recover, but you are taking a big hit right now.”
“Not to mention my political career.” Tristan rubbed the back of his neck. “Polls show that if I ran for re-election now, I’d lose against all my projected opponents.”
“There’s a lot of work to make up.”
Tristan scowled. “I nearly get killed by the Judge, yet the majority insists on believing I covered up his being the serial killer.”
Dan shrugged, ever low key. “You know how the non-paras are. Always ready to believe the worst about the rest of us.”
I leaned against the doorframe. It was time these boys stopped looking so darn grim. Now that I had my strength back and had stopped bleeding energy, I knew exactly how to liven them up once more. “Boring. You need to stop reading the op-ed pieces.”
They looked at me, and their jaws dropped a very satisfying inch and a half. Maybe two. I was glad to see the hot pink vinyl bustier that ended below my breasts and the matching crotchless shorts were such a hit.
A slow smile spread over Tristan’s face. “How would you like my opinion of that outfit?”
I stretched luxuriously. “Can I get an editorial on it?”
They couldn’t take their eyes off of me. Tristan nudged the gaping Dan. “Flip a coin to see who goes first?”
I shut that down in a hurry. “Forget it. I’m feeling needy and greedy today.”
Tristan’s clothes disappeared. “I’m fine with that.”
I crooked an eyebrow at Dan. His pants said an obvious ‘go’, but I feared his possessiveness would scream ‘no’. Fortunately for me, his mama had taught him how to share. He might not always be a good sport about it, but I didn’t hold it against him. I’m just grateful to have them both. I am such a lucky girl.
Dan’s face was pure heat. “Dibs on her—”
“Don’t be vulgar,” I warned.
He grinned. “Yes, my sweet Brandilynn. I want your honeypot, your lotus bloom, your wet, warm, tight tunnel of womanly love—”
“Okay, okay!” I yelled over Tristan’s laughter. “Enough already. Just do me.”
“She’s rather demanding,” Dan told Tristan.
All humor fled the commissioner’s face. “Indeed she is. I think she’s forgotten herself.”
I hadn’t forgotten. I just wanted them to remember themselves and be the men I ached for. Big, strong, dominating men. And as two pairs of eyes went cold and flinty, I shivered.
I’m a very lucky girl indeed.
“All fours on top of the desk, Brandilynn. I think you know the exact position to take.”
I did as I was told, my butt waving in the air. I heard the growls of appreciation. Not only were the shorts crotchless, but there were circles cut out of the cheeks.
They took immediate advantage of that lovely little detail. Big hands paddled my backside, turning it hot and stinging. I moaned in equal parts pain and arousal. When the chastisement was done, I was soaking wet. Not to be rude, but I think they could have slid a big old telephone pole into me. Good heavens, those boys knew how to put a naughty girl in her place.
Then the real punishment began. “Hold absolutely still and stay silent, Brandilynn,” Tristan commanded. His fingers slid over my slit.
“Yes Sir,” I whimpered. I fought not to jerk in reaction to his touch. His fingers were so knowing, so educating in teasing the softest flesh, making it tighten with need. Need he would take painfully long to fulfill, until I would do anything to be allowed release.
“Feel how wet she is already,” Tristan invited Dan. A second set of fingers stroked over me, helped part my folds for further torment. I suppressed a shudder by the skin of my teeth, but I let my toes curl unseen in my heels.
An occasional brush of fingertips against my clit was absolute agony. Just enough to make my insides melt, to get that sweet beginning of rapture’s coil, but not enough to take it any further. I bit my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut. Being punished by one man could be harsh business. Having both of them determined to make me pay for my temerity would be brutal.
When a thick finger pushed its way into me, a tiny cry escaped. Immediately a palm slapped my still stinging rear. I jumped and earned another swat. This time I made myself freeze and stay quiet. My butt ached, and I preferred to avoid further discipline.
“Much better,” Tristan murmured. He came around the desk to sit on its edge. His hands reached beneath me to seize my breasts while Dan continued to plunge first one finger, then two, deep inside me.
The vampire squeezed the soft, pliable mounds that fit so well in his grip. I began to pant, but quietly, as he massaged. Things got hotter in a hurry, stoking that ever-ready fire that burned in my belly. Dan hooked his fingertips inside, finding the nest of nerves within my sheath with blinding accuracy. My breath caught as everything clenched tight.
“No ma’am,” he warned. “You will not come until told to.”
I fought back a groan. Hateful beasts, both of them. Lucky for those boys I cared so much about them.
Okay, maybe it was more than just caring. I wasn’t ready to admit it though. Not yet.
Tristan’s fingers plucked at my nipples, bringing them to hard, aching points. Dan continued to stimulate my G-spot, and occasionally brushed my clit for good measure. I started shuddering, helpless to stop it. They could have whipped me black and blue, but I couldn’t control the tremors racing through my body. I closed in on crescendo. I had to head it off somehow.
I thought of Patricia feeding on Gerald. Of Tristan feeding on his blood donor. Of my parents humping. Of the Judge naked. It helped a little, but not enough. Tristan and Dan were too darn good at what they did to me. I lost the ability to think past the fingers working my core, of the hands playing with my breasts. My belly coiled tighter still, getting close to the breaking point.
Dan circled my clit with one slick finger, driving me right up to the brink. He added a third finger to the sweet assault on my pussy. Tristan pinched the tips of my nipples hard, sending zings of sensation down, down, melting my insides to quicksilver. Tears of want dripped from my eyes. I wasn’t going to make it. Poised to come without permission, I slipped ever nearer to disobeying my masters.
No. Please. Hold on.
My world shrank to tiny points. Rough hands on my breasts. Fingers working my channel harder and harder. A flicking on my clit. A flush broke over my body. I teetered on the edge, wobbling violently, the chasm beneath me yawning wide, ready to swallow me whole. And here came the irresistible force, bearing down on me like a freight train, fixing to knock me into oblivious sensation.
“Come now, Brandilynn.”
A pinch seized my clit, applying harsh and gorgeous pressure. I went over, lost to the ravenous desire plunging me into the ravine. I broke apart against the jagged thrusts of sensation, ripped to pieces as I tumbled down and down forever.
Shuddering. Quaking. Heaving. No earthquake ever committed such rending destruction.
I came back by degrees, aftershocks trembling through me at widening intervals. I became dimly aware of my hands clutching the desk’s edge in a death grip, my face mashed against the hard wood. My brain felt disconnected and floated apart from the rest of me.
“Is she okay?” Dan’s concerned tone wafted gently against my ears.
“Lost in subspace.”
“Subspace?”
“The BDSM equivalent of an out-of-body experience. I’m taking her over to the sofa.”
Strong arms wrapped around my body, lifted me from the desk. I snuggled against Tristan’s smooth chest as he carried m
e to the couch. He lay me down and stepped away.
I whimpered, wanting to be held. Still beyond words, I implored Tristan with my eyes. He smiled and shook his head. “Dan called dibs. She’s all yours, my friend.”
My Marlboro Man joined me, stretching his body over mine. I warbled a wordless welcome when his burgeoning sex homed in on mine.
“My beautiful baby girl,” he whispered and plunged inside.
Swollen, sensitive and tight, my body exploded again with the first thrust. I arched and shrieked as waves of excruciating bliss pounded my insides. Dan worked me with hard, merciless power. I arched and jerked, my carnation-polished nails raking his chest and shoulders. We went at it like animals more intent on destroying one another than making love. The sex was gorgeous with viciousness. Our voracious bodies fed until we sagged in complete exhaustion.
Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy Page 25