The irony that she was placing her trust in a demon didn’t escape her. Marduk might have pulled her into hell, but he’d protected her and kept her nightmares at bay.
For as long as it took for Guntram to craft their escape, she’d play along and do her best to enjoy the licentious pleasures offered, but only because fighting would be a waste of energy.
Never one to shy away from sensual adventure, she also admitted that she possessed a ravenous curiosity and had no doubts this night would be filled with new experiences.
CHAPTER
12
Guntram eyed the iron gate they’d have to pass through to get into the palace. A large halfbull, half-human creature stood unmoving beside it, gripping a wicked-looking spear. “Somehow, I don’t think he’ll just let us walk through. I hope you have a better plan.”
Every step closer to his goal presented a new hurdle. He and Simon waited a hundred feet from the entrance, hiding behind the corner of a building. Had been for over an hour. Long enough to see Gabriella and her “master” enter the palace’s gates and disappear inside.
He almost hadn’t recognized her. Dressed like a harem slut, she’d clung to the dragon shifter’s arm, smiling easily into the man’s hard-edged face as though she didn’t fear his fierce expression—as though she’d placed complete trust in this man for her safety.
With his stomach churning, he hadn’t been able to take his gaze from Gabriella’s tall, curvy body. She walked with a sinuous grace, her eyes sparkling.
Even from so far away, he’d caught the heady aroma of her arousal and a desperate fury filled him. He was so close. But was he already too late? He’d told Simon there was no way she’d choose to remain with her captor, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Further, Simon’s plan wasn’t getting them any closer to that gate.
Dressed in their smelly borrowed clothing, they walked in stumbling, erratic circles, pretending to be plagued by invisible horrors like the rest of the lost souls hovering in the street.
Guntram halted and stuck his hands on his hips, eyeing the walls and wondering whether he could simply shift and jump over it.
“Have some patience, Guntram,” Simon said. “I’m waiting for the right mark … and he’s here.”
A man strode down the street, nearing the corner, but still out of sight of the guard.
Simon lifted his chin, signaling he’d made his choice, and ambled forward, headed directly for the tall, golden-haired creature, who was dressed in a white toga-like garment. The creature’s skin seemed almost translucent in the fading light.
“Dagon,” Simon called softly.
The man’s head turned, blue eyes narrowing. “Do I know you?”
“No, but we must borrow something from you.”
“I don’t think so,” the demon said, pushing past him.
“Hold him,” Simon said calmly.
Glad for an excuse for a little violence, Guntram leapt for the demon, taking him easily to the ground. The demon bucked and wriggled beneath him, but Guntram slammed his knee into the center of his back, pinning him and pushing the air from his lungs so that he couldn’t catch a breath and shout for help.
“Raise his face.”
Guntram grabbed the demon’s blond hair and dragged his head upward.
Simon uncurled one palm, revealing a purple powder in his palm, which he blew into the demon’s face.
The blond creature’s eyes rolled back, and he slumped beneath Guntram. “Dress him in your robe.”
Guntram pulled him to an alleyway and quickly stripped the reeking garment over his head and pulled it over the man’s still form, yanking up the hood to hide his face.
Standing only in his trousers and military boots, Guntram watched as Simon knelt beside the demon and glided his hand over his still face. Then he lifted the same hand and slid it over his own. Simon’s body transformed, shifting into an exact copy of the unconscious man.
“That’s disturbing,” Guntram murmured.
The full lips of Simon’s borrowed face curved. Then he slung the bag he’d carried from Ninshubur’s home onto the ground beside the demon’s still form. He dug into it, pulling out a leather mask, which he tossed at Guntram. “Put this over your head. No one knows you here, but the mask will mark you as a player in tonight’s entertainment. We should have no trouble entering now.”
Guntram pulled the mask over his head.
Simon tossed him a small jar next. “Rub this salve into your skin. It will mask your scent. We can’t have anyone making you as a wolf.”
Guntram slathered the oily salve over his skin, wrinkling his nose at the scent of almonds, lavender, and sandalwood. The demons around them might not identify him as a wolf, but they might wonder about his preferences.
Then he followed Simon in his new skin around the corner and toward the gates of the palace.
The bull-man bowed, demanding tribute. Simon pulled a strand of perfect pearls from a leather purse at his belted waist.
Had he taken them from the demon or produced them from the air? Guntram didn’t think much was beyond his companion’s capabilities, but let the thought go because they were through the door and entering a courtyard.
There was no sign of Gabriella. He mentioned it.
Simon grimaced. “You hardly thought it would be that easy.”
They passed a fountain and a woman bobbed from beneath the surface of the water to spit a stream of water on his feet as he passed. Guntram spared her a quick glare, but she merely laughed. “What’s next?” he asked, his shoulders bunching with the need to release some more of the frustration he’d been storing up for hours. “Other than finding her tonight, what do you hope to accomplish?”
“As I told you yesterday, you must get close enough to tell her we’re arranging her escape. If you can, ask her for the identities of her master’s companions so that we can approach them and find one willing to help us.”
“Do you really think any of them would cross him?”
“Some will be jealous of the attention he pays her.”
“So, a girl.”
Simon shrugged, dropping his voice as they approached a set of twins at another gate. “I know you’re worried about her. And you have good reason, but we can’t take her from here. Too many guards. Too many layers of protection. The first thing you have to find out is whether she’s willing to leave.”
“Do you really think she might want to stay?”
“Some find their dreams answered in this place. You saw her. Did she seem afraid for her fate?”
“She might have been acting or just making the best of a bad situation,” he said, hoping like hell it was true.
“You won’t know for sure until you talk to her.”
“How will I approach her?”
Simon smiled and slapped his back. “You’re part of the entertainment—entertain.”
Guntram cursed softly, following behind Simon as he bartered to get through the next set of gates. Again, he found no sign of Gabriella or the tall, dark demon who’d escorted her here.
Once inside the gilded hall, he and Simon hovered at the doorway. At last, Guntram found her, sitting beside the demon at the head table. From the waist up she was nude, and she was leaning against the demon, who absently fed her slivers of meat from his own plate like a dog.
That she wasn’t baring her teeth at the outrage was telling.
That she sat so still, so calmly beside her master bothered him even more. Gabriella was a vibrant woman, always animated. She seemed subdued, and yet she wasn’t tethered, wasn’t even wearing a collar to restrain her. Her gaze never left the man beside her. Had he mesmerized her? Or had he seduced her, taking her will?
She appeared unharmed, as beautiful as ever, but lacking that hint of inner fire he’d always admired.
Simon grabbed his arm. “Come. We aren’t staying here. When they’re finished eating, they’ll head to the dungeon. Let’s get there ahead of them.”
Guntram d
ragged his gaze from her, submerging his doubts, and followed again while Simon offered another tribute and entered a corridor that ended in a steep stone staircase.
The staircase led down into darkness unrelieved by any source of light. The air was warm and humid. The scent of sex and musky sweat was carried on a breeze that swept up the steps, providing an intoxicating trail into the depths beneath the great palace. They passed the last layer of the palace’s stone foundation and continued down a hollowed cavern.
Guntram’s eyes adjusted to the darkness as he descended. “With all the rooms above, Irkalla chooses to play in a cave?”
“Caves are nescient. Places where life is birthed. Where sins are hidden.”
“Where screaming won’t call attention?”
“That, too, I’m sure. She may have a very open marriage to Nergal, but she chooses not to flaunt her indiscretions.”
The steps ended, and crude torches in sconces were mounted on the wall, lighting a long passage that Guntram had to hunch his shoulders to traverse. Built to Irkalla’s height, no doubt.
Thankfully, it was a short passage and opened into a room not unlike some of the dungeons in the sex clubs Gabriella liked to frequent. Sumptuous carpeting covered the floor. The black stone walls were unrelieved except for the hundreds of candles burning to shed light around the room. Tall candelabra were situated to cast light into the shadowy center of the room. Legless sofas, little more than Persian bolster cushions, and pillows filled the center of the enormous space. A long equipment rack stretched along one wall, filled with floggers of every length and material, whips, cat-o’-nine-tails, masks and blindfolds, and ropes.
“Choose your equipment now. Those who are invited will be coming soon. Choose your space or a room along that corridor. Whatever you think will intrigue your princess.”
Guntram followed Simon’s gesture toward a row of cells with iron bars—viewing rooms for sexual performances. He passed one with chains and manacles set into the stone wall, then another with a rack. When he found a cell containing a platform with padded steps, he slowed and entered it. The platform allowed a supplicant to kneel over a padded bench, buttocks pointing toward the back wall. The player in this drama would be the center of attention while he applied whips and floggers to the supplicant’s ass. If he decided to fuck her, their faces would be viewed, but little else.
He chose this room knowing Gabriella would enjoy a sexy spanking from an anonymous master. He strode back to the main room, chose his implements from the display rack and returned. All the while, he mused at how ironic it was that his long-held wish was about to come true. He’d entered Gabriella’s fantasy world and might just get the chance to provide her the pleasure of punishment she needed to achieve sexual release. If all went according to plan, he’d reveal himself while she was still bound to the bench. Then at last, he’d take her, cover her, and make her his own.
First, he’d need her to be mindless with desire. But he’d had centuries of studying her, watching over her while she’d lost herself in passion with others. By the time she understood what was happening, it would be too late for her to change her mind. The deed done.
It didn’t matter that there would be no witnesses to bear the truth of their mating to the pack. If she chose to deny him later, at least he’d know the truth.
For the first time since he’d entered this damned place, Guntram was fiercely glad to be there. Tonight, the Wolfen bitch he’d longed for would at last be his.
Gabriella followed Marduk, holding her questions, her tongue stilled by the look he’d given her when his queen had finally finished her meal and risen.
Irkalla had kissed her husband’s cheek and wished him a good rest, quietly offering him his choices of entertainments to be delivered to his chambers.
After he’d left, she surveyed the hall, and all the eager faces turned her way. She’d made quick work of choosing her playmates for the evening. Everyone at the head table was invited, naturally. Then she’d chosen only the most virile and well-hung males and women whose lustful expressions portrayed a feral yet sensual bent. Then she’d swept toward the doors, leading her odd assortment of guests down a long dark stairwell.
Gabriella had followed close on Marduk’s heels, aware of Dumuzi’s presence at her back and Inanna’s malevolent presence behind him. When the party had spilled into a dungeonlike chamber, she’d breathed a sigh of relief that here was something familiar.
“Unfamiliar” would be entering this kind of place with someone she actually knew. When she’d entered clubs like this back in her own world, she’d entered as a stranger consorting with strangers. Here, Marduk’s darkening gaze held her, warning her silently that his generosity was limited.
She wished she understood exactly what he might punish her for enjoying, but shrugged. Already Irkalla hovered at his elbow, ready to lead him toward one of the many low couches. He followed, looking over his shoulder only once before turning to the queen to undress her.
The others took their cue from the pair, dropping their clothes where they stood. Gabriella, not wanting to feel any more conspicuous than she already was, untied the short linen skirt and left it in a puddle.
“Your master has abandoned you,” Dumuzi murmured, his hand still wrapped around Inanna’s black leather leash.
“He’s not my master,” Gabriella said, then wished she’d bitten her tongue.
Dumuzi’s soft laughter drifted around her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. The last thing she wanted was to invite more attention from him.
“Marduk is very proud,” he said, “and covetous. He would disagree.”
“Well, his opinion seems to hold some sway here. You’d do well to remember that.”
“You were left to play here. Just another playmate to service the members of the queen’s court.” His intent gaze told her he meant to make use of that fact.
But she didn’t want to play with him. Her gaze locked with Inanna’s, whose expression was tight. She seemed afraid.
“I’d like to see what entertainments are offered here,” Gabriella said with a small, strained smile.
Dumuzi lifted his hand and waved to a servant carrying a silver tray filled with beakers of red liquid. He chose two drinks, offering her one and sipping at his own.
“Everyone’s so … busy,” he said softly.
Her gaze followed his. He was right. All around them there was movement, rhythmic, surging—bodies standing, lying, straddling. Only Dumuzi, Inanna, and herself stood perfectly still, untouched by the fervor slowly building inside the room.
Untouched but not unaroused, she conceded, feeling her own core melt, moisture trickling downward.
“Your master isn’t pleased that you’re talking with me,” he said slyly.
Marduk was seated on a sofa, surrounded by naked women. The queen knelt on the cushion beside him and was sliding her tongue into his ear. Hands stroked his flesh, petted his sex, but his gaze bored into hers.
Gabriella arched an eyebrow, letting him see her gaze land on every one of his companions before meeting his again—her point underlined. She was free to take her own pleasure.
His lips thinned, but Gabriella wasn’t afraid of retribution. She looked forward to it.
For now, she stood beside a monster who kept eyeing her chest. Whether he liked the shape of her bosom or was fixated on the heart lying beneath it, she didn’t care. He didn’t dare harm her.
However, he did dare to move closer, his hand sliding over her hip, then skimming over her ass to give her a squeeze. Gabriella knew she should move away immediately. Her body was already betraying her. The sounds building around her—low, heated murmurs, soft seductive laughter, moist caresses—had her nipples tightening into erect little points.
And the aromas! Lord, she couldn’t take a breath without smelling sex … yeasty, musky, sweaty …
The urge to shake out her fur and howl was nearly over-powering—and then she felt it, the inner tension that coiled r
uthlessly around her womb—and she moaned.
How had she missed it? The cramping that preceded ovulation had passed unnoticed. No wonder she’d been so docile, so content to wallow in the lust her new master had induced.
Was that it? Or had something extra been in the drink Dumuzi had given her? Something to force her into season? But why would anyone bother to go to such an extreme? Sex for the thrill, for the release was always possible for a wolf, but not imperative. At least not outside those days when her body craved seed to procreate. Good Lord, and it was happening now.
She swayed on her feet, feeling the urge to fall to the floor on her hands and knees and back her ass up to the first dick willing to penetrate her.
However, she’d be left unfulfilled. Only a male of her species could provide the ultimate relief. Only their cocks could swell deep inside her and lock within her channel. She’d never done it, never allowed it. Couldn’t remain in the company of a male wolf when this blinding need hit her.
She glanced wildly around the room, ready to approach a man, any man. When she glanced back at Dumuzi, his eyes narrowed. His head canted, a faint smile tipping the corners of his mouth. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she bit out, folding an arm across her breast as though shielding herself from his avid gaze would somehow lessen her arousal. “It stinks in here. There’s no air.”
“It’s bound to get worse for someone with such a sensitive nose. But you seem uncomfortable. Are you aroused?”
“I’m fine.”
“Perhaps you like watching others taking their pleasure. I invite you to watch me taking my conjugal rights.”
And because watching was preferable to letting the bastard touch her, she didn’t move.
He tugged on the leash he held, pulling Inanna behind him, and approached one of the hybrid creatures, one of the bullmen, whose huge head dipped as Dumuzi leaned close and whispered his instructions.
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