by Leia Shaw
She held up the cup. “That is what the wine is for.” Nymphs didn’t often feel cold. Nature was part of them as they were part of nature – they adapted to the weather changes like all creatures. They hibernated during the cold months in a den. At night in the summer, she rarely felt chill. “You should really have some. It will keep you warm as well.”
“Even if that was wine, I don’t drink.”
She held in a gasp. “Don’t drink wine? Why ever not?” Wine was life, happiness, merriment. She missed her sisters’ laughter as they drank spirits and danced until late into the night.
“It muddles the brain,” Bodhi answered. “I get paid to use my brain. I need to keep it pure.”
“Do you?” She sat up straighter. “What is your trade then?”
“I’m a philosopher.”
“A philosopher! Like Socrates?” She stuck out her lip. “He was such a sourpuss.”
He chuckled. “Agreed. But I’m nowhere near as accomplished as Socrates. I’m a teacher of philosophy.”
She gulped down the rest of the wine then looked at him. In the dim light of the moon, he was even more handsome. Or maybe it was the wine. Her limbs tingled with warmth. Her mind felt free and she grinned at him. “That’s a very important job.”
“How so?”
She rested her cheek on her shoulder and gazed into his eyes, the white stark against the darkness. “Well, professor Bodhi, I should think it would be obvious. You are helping young minds explore the very root of their existence.”
Chapter 4
He’d never heard it put quite like that. Though Bodhi believed he was molding young minds, and he’d always been drawn to philosophy, sometimes it felt like no more than a job to sustain his bank account. When he’d studied at the university, he’d imagined his future quite differently.
Unfortunately, a degree in philosophy didn’t get him a job being paid to think. He’d had a few publications go to press, but nothing big enough to cover his bills. Teaching jobs were hard to come across and he was lucky to have the one he did. Many philosophy majors would kill for his position.
Lately, he’d fallen into a rut. His dream was to write an autobiography, but he didn’t feel like he’d lived enough of his life to offer much insight yet. Until that time, he scribbled in his journal, tracking thoughts for when he was ready to put them all together.
“Little angel…” Seraphina sang, almost a whisper. “Little foundling… Sleeping soundly. Heart entangled with mine. From now and through all time…”
He watched her sing as she swayed to the tune. Her voice sounded haunting, but beautiful at the same time. The words drifted in and out as she hummed.
Giggling, she rose to her feet and began to dance. Joyfully at first, spinning and laughing. Then the dance grew more sensual. Her hips gyrated and Bodhi watched, enthralled with the way the fabric clung to her ample curves.
Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her blonde hair looked white and swung in rhythm with her hips. He was transfixed by this ethereal creature, sexual and pure.
When the song ended, she stopped. Her gaze caught his and she glided toward him. He found himself stuck, unable to look away. A few feet away, she lowered herself to the ground and grinned at him. Orange flickered in her eyes like a flame. On hands and knees, she crawled to him, stopping only inches away. He leaned back, trying to put distance between them.
“Truly, you’ve never tasted wine?” she whispered. “Not even a sip?”
“No.” His voice sounded hoarse. A haze seemed to settle over him. Was this how it felt to be buzzed?
She inched closer. So close he could smell her. Sweet, almost edible. He breathed it in. This strange girl seemed to possess some sort of magic. She bewitched him.
“No man should die without having at least tasted it,” she purred. Her tongue darted out as she licked her lips. She dropped her gaze to his mouth and a greedy glitter grew in her eyes.
Lust. She wanted him.
Fuck, she wanted him! He couldn’t tear his eyes from her mouth. Would she taste as good as she smelled? She closed the distance between them. Her mouth hovered over his. He could taste the wine on her breath. Silence dragged on. Then he moved in.
He covered her lips with his. So soft. She let him take the lead. He moved against her mouth, slowly, taking his time to enjoy the feel of her lips, the taste. He wanted more.
He moved his tongue into her mouth and she used hers to spar with him. Addictive. He fought back the urge to throw her to the ground and bare those curves. He doubted he’d ever get that image out of his head.
Warmth surrounded them. His head felt fuzzy and his cock pulsed, fighting to be freed from his pants. There was a strange electricity in the air. He didn’t often lose control of himself. He’d never been the kind of man who thought with his penis instead of his brain.
Was she really a nymph? Tempting him, bewitching him with magic? His hand reached out toward her breast, almost out of his control. Her naked form in the water invaded his mind. He needed to touch her, run his fingers over her breasts, down her belly, lower… He wanted to taste her.
He yanked himself away. Seraphina was almost on top of him now. He tried to scramble back, but she only followed him.
Her gaze bore into his soul, her eyes alight with fire. She bit her lip and smiled. “Did you like it?”
Like it? That was an understatement. “You’re drunk. I won’t take advantage of you.”
She giggled. “Nymphs are always drunk. It’s our natural state.” With a sigh, she settled back onto the sleeping bag, resting her head on her arm. Between her beauty, her curves, the position and the lighting, she looked like she belonged on the cover of some high fashion magazine. “What’s wrong with muddling the brain now and then? It’s enjoyable.”
“Life isn’t just about enjoyment.”
“What’s it about then?”
“Well…” That was the fifty million dollar question. Most of his life had been devoted to figuring out that very answer. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Life is just that. It’s the process of being alive.”
Ah. An existentialist. How refreshing.
“It’s how you live it that gives it meaning,” she continued then sighed dreamily. “But I think it must be about love. I’ve never experienced love, but I imagine true love is something…magical.” Her whimsical expression faded to a frown. She stared at the ground. “Sometimes I think I’ll die of loneliness. It’s only by duty that I go on.”
He didn’t like the sadness in her voice. It was such a contrast to her unrestrained playfulness earlier. She may be mad, but at least she was happy. Maybe she had the right idea about life. Ignorance was bliss and all that. He’d always loathed that concept. Ignorance was what was wrong with the world. It kept people blind to injustice. If more people knew of the imperfections of society, more people would fight against it. One of his favorite quotes by Confucius was one he tried to live by. Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance.
The balance between awareness and happiness often eluded him. Living for one meant the exclusion of the other. He’d vowed to go through this life with his eyes wide open. Such was the curse of a philosopher. There was a point when one knew too much – when the future of humanity became too bleak. He feared he may not come back from that.
Seraphina’s talk of death and loneliness told of suffering under the sweet exterior. Ignorance of worldly events didn’t necessarily exclude one from heartbreak. “Your duty is to live? What do you mean?”
She yawned and her eyelids began to droop. “I have to live. It’s my burden.”
He saw her body go limp. Her breathing slowed and just when he thought she was asleep, she mumbled, “I’m the last of my kind.”
Bodhi turned her words over in his mind for a long time after she’d fallen asleep. There was something almost unearthly about her. The shine of her skin. The flame in her eyes. When she looked at him, he felt trappe
d, as if he were under a spell.
Maybe he was the one who’d gone mad. Maybe this was an illusion brought on by the extreme heat. Maybe he was delirious with dehydration.
Did it matter? He’d either sleep it off or never wake up. Though the thought of dying before he’d figured himself out “kind of sucked,” as his students would say. He picked up the water sack next to him and chugged the contents just in case.
He thought back on the mythology class he’d taken years ago in his undergrad program. Now he was kicking himself for thinking it unimportant. He’d barely retained any of it.
Nymphs. It was the root word of nymphomaniac. He looked at her sleeping body. She was built for sex. Hips big enough to grab onto. A cute, bitable ass. Sturdy curves and bone structure.
He adjusted himself and willed his appetite under control. Trying to distract himself, he focused back on the class. Nymphs were a minor nature deity, if he remembered correctly. He couldn’t remember their origin, but dancing and drinking seemed to be a common theme.
They’re also made up, you jackass.
He wasn’t really thinking Seraphina was a nymph, was he? Ugh. He’d been in the wilderness far too long.
Maybe he should’ve taken his father up on his offer to join him on his trek. The man was getting older than he’d like to admit and Bodhi worried for his safety. But at least if he’d come, Bodhi would know whether he was going crazy or not.
He lay back on the hard ground, using his pack for support under his head. The melody Seraphina had been singing played in his mind, though he didn’t know the words. He drifted off, the song distracting him for a few peaceful moments.
Electricity sizzled in the air, making his hair stand on end. His eyes popped open. A hazy shape appeared behind Seraphina, door-like. He squinted into the dark. Was he dreaming? Another mirage?
A dark figure stepped out of the haze – taller than any human man he’d seen, arms thick with muscle, grayish skin. Wearing only a pair of shorts and boots, he stared down at Seraphina. A spike of fear struck Bodhi as he lay still, trying not to panic. He held his breath, afraid even to exhale. On the top of the creatures head, two horns stood up like a demon from some kind of horror movie.
The monster lifted Seraphina into his arms. Bodhi wanted to cry out and stop him, but… Fuck, that thing could crush him. He wrestled with what to do. Seraphina stayed sleeping as the creature turned toward the door. Two great wings were tucked into his body. Bodhi gaped.
Without even glancing Bodhi’s way, the thing stepped back through the door, carrying Seraphina into the haze. They both disappeared.
His heart raced. The sense of protectiveness he’d felt earlier tugged at him. No, it was more aggressive than a tug. He felt a pull toward the door, like an invisible rope was attached from Seraphina to him. The longer he waited, the more intense the strain.
But he couldn’t go through there. He had no idea what was on the other side. He was human – no match for…whatever that thing was. Or any other fairy tale monster that could be through that door.
The hazy shape started to fade. Indecision tore at him. Could he leave Seraphina to whatever fate had in store for her through that portal? He hadn’t even opened his mouth to warn her. Fear lodged in his throat. He could barely breathe. The circle shape shrunk to just a small circle, a few feet off the ground.
“Fuck.”
He jumped to his feet then leapt, head first, through the opening.
Chapter 5
She saw her sisters, plain as day. Laughing, they waved to her. Her heart fluttered and she ran to them. Flora caught her first. She smelled just how Seraphina remembered. Aurelia was next. The red-head jumped up and down, squealing as she held her around the neck. Tears flowed from her eyes. They were safe. She wouldn’t be alone any longer.
The vision came crashing down. Her sisters were ripped away. No! She reached out for them, but they disappeared. Confusion filled her fuzzy mind. A dream?
Her body rocked to a pounding rhythm. With a groan, she cracked open her eyes. A red sky greeted her first. Then a face – a monstrous face. Black wings rose up behind it. The creature was carrying her.
“No!” She squirmed in his arms and he let her fall to the hard ground. With an oomph, she lost her breath and coughed. When she recovered somewhat, she took in her surroundings. Dirt and rock as far as she could see. Desolate land, red sky, a dark winged creature… The Underworld.
Panic struck and she scrambled backward, away from the man, but he grabbed her hair and pulled until she rose to her feet.
She screeched in pain, feeling like he might tear her hair from her scalp. He loosened his grip once she was standing.
“Walk,” he ordered.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “What do you want from me?”
Without a word, he stomped forward, dragging her along behind him. With her head tilted to the side it was difficult to see, but up ahead, she spotted a hill with a dark opening in front. They were going underground.
Her hands flew to his fingers as she tried to wrench them from her hair. He felt like stone. Cold skin, thick muscle – he didn’t seem to notice she was digging her fingernails into him.
They marched straight to the opening in the hill, which turned into a tunnel. Then she felt it. Her hair stood on end. Fear trickled down her spine. Her chest tightened until she couldn’t breathe.
Satyrs.
They’d found her. All these years of hiding and they’d found her anyway. How? And why now? Had Bodhi brought this upon her? Maybe he’d spoken of them too loudly?
Deep sobs mixed with shallow breaths. Should she attempt to beg her captor for mercy?
He walked on, ignoring her weak attempt to fight him. As they traveled deeper into the tunnel, the air grew stale and cold. Light came from torches on the walls. Sounds were muffled, but shouting was clear in the distance.
The demon’s footfalls echoed in the corridor. Her bare feet were sore from being dragged across the rocky ground at a pace that kept her running to keep up.
“I…I…” she stammered, willing herself to calm down. “I can pay you.”
The creature snorted. “You will. Your flesh is desirable. You’ll bring a good price at the auction.”
Auction? He was selling her?
“Are there…” she swallowed hard and pushed the words from her throat, “satyrs at the auction?”
He stopped in front of a wood door and loomed over her. Though his skin was a sickly gray, his eyes glowed bright blue and almost looked pretty in contrast. His lips curved in a sensual shape. That and his high cheek bones made him a strange sort of beautiful. But she knew not to trust appearances when it came to supernatural creatures. The devil had been an angel once.
The dark wings, gray skin, and pointy horns meant one thing. Incubus.
“Resolve yourself to your fate, woman. A satyr will have you soon.” He opened the door and pushed her inside.
She spun to face him and fell to her knees. “Please! They will rip me apart!”
He gazed down at her, his face as impassive as stone. “I care not.”
“My father,” she pleaded. “He’s a god. I’m the last of my kind. My father will pay you!” She didn’t really know if he would. Nymphs had been created then abandoned in the wild long ago. But it was all she had to offer.
“Not as much as they will,” he said, gesturing down the corridor, toward the shouts and bellows. He gave her a long glance, letting his gaze run down her body. At last, he showed some emotion. Nodding slowly, his lips curved into a smirk. “No wonder they want you so badly. Here I’d been thinking they were mad.”
“They are mad! They can’t control themselves around my kind. They’ll use me until I die.”
“Yes, I know.” His gaze lingered on her chest. “Rest while you can, nymph. I’ll be back to fetch you tomorrow.”
He slammed the door shut and she heard the click of the lock. Magic infused the room, indicating it’d been mystically locked as well. A nym
ph’s magic was useless in these situations. She could start a festivity, providing wine and merriment at any moment, but she couldn’t get herself out of a locked room. That had been a grand oversight of the gods.
She slumped to the floor. Her scalp ached and her eyes burned from crying. There were no more tears, just as there was no more hope. She had to do as the incubus said and resign herself to her fate.
She would die at the hands of her enemies. Like her sisters. She only hoped it would be quick.
Chapter 6
Bodhi coughed as he struggled to breathe. Hot oppressive air scorched his lungs. It felt like the Gila Wilderness during the middle of the day – suffocating and wet – but there was a nastiness to this place as well.
He shuddered.
He’d always had a sixth sense when it came to malice. This place, wherever he was, reeked of it. Well, now he knew he hadn’t dreamed Seraphina up. This was no mirage. He brushed the dust off his shirt and pants then took a look around. Dirt and rock outcroppings under a red sky was all that he could see. He’d been dropped into some other dimension. Or maybe another planet.
Fuck. What the hell was he doing here? This was way out of his league.
His body ached where he’d fallen hard on the ground. Gravity seemed to work the same, at least.
He spared a moment to evaluate his situation. He had no idea what he was doing. Seeking adventure, he’d thought, would help him find life’s meaning. Nature brought on a sense of profoundness at times. But exploring the wilderness was one thing, a rescue mission in another world was quite different. Novelist Andre Gilde had said, “it is only in adventure that some people succeed in knowing themselves – in finding themselves.” He had a feeling this was the start of a bigger adventure than he’d dared to dream. And when it was over, if he survived, he’d have found himself ten times over.
A feminine voice shouted in the distance. He squinted toward it. Far off, he could see two figures – one dark, and next to it, a flash of white hair. They moved toward the opening of a small hill.