by Trisha Telep
“You know how all the selkie stories end, don’t you?” Rick leaned on his window.
“They’re just stories.”
“I’m just a story.”
She smirked. “You’re no Dracula.”
“You’ve never seen me outside this cage, my dear.”
She stopped and looked at him. His eyes were blue.
“Robin, think carefully about what you’re planning. He has enchanted you.” The vampire’s worried expression seemed almost fatherly.
“I - I can’t give him up.”
“Outside this room, you won’t have a choice. You will throw away your career, your life, for that?”
The official acronym for it was AWOL, not to mention stealing from a government installation. Her career, as far as Robin could tell, amounted to studying people in cages. People who defied study, no matter how many cameras and electrodes were trained on them. The selkie had shown her something that couldn’t be put in a cage, a range of emotions that escaped examination. He’d shown her passion, something she’d been missing without even knowing it. She wanted to take him away from the sterility of a filtered aquarium and a steel cage. She wanted to make love with him on a beach, with the sound of ocean waves behind them.
“I have this.” She held up the knapsack in which she had stuffed the seal skin and left the lab to stash it in her car and find some clothes.
For all its wonder and secrecy, the Center was poorly funded - it didn’t produce the results and military applications that the nearby bionic and psychic research branches did - and inadequately supervised.
She knew the building and video surveillance patterns well enough to be able to smuggle the selkie to her car without leaving evidence. Not that it mattered, when Rick would no doubt give Colonel Ottoman a full report. She waited until close to the end of the shift to retrieve the selkie. He came with her docilely, dressed in the spare sweats she gave him.
Marina sat on her rock and sang, her light voice echoing in the lab.
The selkie lingered for a moment until Marina waved goodbye. Robin pulled him to the next room.
“Sir,” Rick, hands pressed to the plastic of his cell, called. The selkie met Rick’s gaze, unflinching. “I know your kind. Treat her gently.”
The selkie didn’t react. He seemed to study the vampire, expressionless, and only looked away when Robin squeezed his hand.
Robin lingered a moment. “Goodbye,” she said.
“Take care, Robin.”
Impulse guided her again, and she went to the control box for the lock to Rick’s cell. She pushed the button; the lock clicked open with the sound of a buzzer. The door opened a crack. Rick stared at the path to freedom for a long moment.
Not lingering to see what the vampire would do next, she gripped the selkie’s hand and ran.
She smuggled him in the back seat of her car, making him crouch on the floorboard. Routine did her service now; the shift had ended, and the guard at the gate waved her through.
They’d be looking for her in a matter of hours. She had to get rid of the car, find a place to hide out. She stopped long enough to get to an ATM and empty her account. She could leave tracks now, then disappear.
Desperation made her a criminal. She ditched her car, swapping it for a sedan she hotwired. She kept the seal skin under her feet, where the selkie couldn’t get to it.
Two more stolen cars, a thousand miles of highway, and some fast talking at the border, flashing her military ID and spouting some official nonsense, found her in Mexico, cruising down the coast of Baja.
She knew the stories. She should have driven inland.
They stayed in a fishing village. Robin’s savings would hold out for a couple of months at least, so she rented a shack and they lived as hermits, making love, watching the sea.
Convinced that she was different, she was smarter than those women in the stories, she hid the seal skin - not in the house, but buried in the sand by a cliff. She wrestled a rock over the spot while the selkie slept.
He was no less passionate than before. He spent hours, though, staring out at the ocean.
She joined him one evening, sitting beside him on still-warm sand, curling her legs under her loose peasant skirt. Her shirt was too big, hanging off one shoulder, and she didn’t wear a bra - it seemed useless, just one more piece of clothing they’d have to remove before making love. Nothing of the poised, put-together young army lieutenant remained. That person wouldn’t have recognized her now.
He didn’t turn his eyes from the waves, but moved a hand to her thigh and squeezed. The touch filled her with heat and lust, making her want to straddle him there and then. He never seemed to tire of her, nor she of him. Wasn’t that close enough to love?
She kissed his shoulder and leaned against him. “I don’t even know what your name is,” she said.
The selkie smiled, chuckled to himself, and didn’t seem to care that she didn’t have a name for him.
He never spoke. He never said that he loved her, though his passion for her seemed endless. She touched his chin, turned his gaze from the ocean and made him look in her eyes. She only saw ocean there. She thought about the seal skin, buried in the sand a mile inland, and wondered - was he still a prisoner? Did he still see steel bars locking him in?
Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her in return. He tipped her back on the sand, trapped her with his arms, turned all his attention to her and her body, and she forgot her doubts.
One night, she felt the touch of a kiss by her ear. A soft voice whispered in a brogue, “Ye did well, lass. No hard feelings at all.”
She thought it was a dream, so she didn’t open her eyes. But she reached across the bed and found she was alone. Starting awake, she sat up. The selkie was gone. She ran out of the shack, out to the beach.
Seal skin in hand, he ran for the water, a pale body in the light of a full moon.
“No!” she screamed. How had he found it? How could he leave her? All of it was for nothing. Why had he waited until now to speak, when it didn’t matter any more?
He never looked back, but dived into the waves, swam past the breakers and disappeared. She never saw him again. The next shape that appeared was the supple body of a grey seal breaking the surface, diving again, appearing further out, swimming far, far away.
She sat on the beach and cried, unable to think of anything but the square of sand where she sat and the patch of shining water where she saw him last. He’d taken her, drained her, she was empty now.
She stayed in Mexico, learning Spanish and working in the village cleaning fish. She treasured mundane moments these days. Nights, she let the water lull her to sleep.
The army never found her, but someone else did, a few months later.
That night, she sat on the beach, watching moon-silvered waves crash onto the white sand, like her selkie used to. Sitting back, she grunted at the weight of her belly. The selkie hadn’t left her so empty after all. She stroked the roundness, felt the baby kick.
She didn’t hear footsteps approach and gasped, startled, when a man sat down beside her.
Dark hair, an aristocratic face, permanently wry expression. He was even graceful sitting in the sand. He wore tailored black slacks and a silk shirt in a flattering shade of dark blue, with the cuffs unbuttoned and rolled up. He flashed a smile and looked out at the water.
“Rick! What are you doing here?”
“Besides watching the waves?”
“So you did it. You left.” She was smiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled.
“Of course. I didn’t want to stay to explain to Colonel Ottoman what you’d done. I brought Mr Njalson along with me.”
“Brad’s here?”
“He’s hunting back on the mesa. Enjoying stretching all four legs.”
Robin sighed, still smiling. Of course, Rick could have gotten himself out of there - just as soon as he convinced one of the doctors to look in his eyes in
an unguarded moment. Now she wished she’d let them all out a long time before she did.
“When are you due?” Rick asked softly.
He startled her back to reality, and she swallowed the tightness in her throat. “In a month. It’ll have webbed feet and hands. Like in the stories.”
“And how are you?”
She took a breath, held it. She still cried every night. Not just from missing the selkie any more. She had another burden now, one she’d never considered, never even contemplated. The supernatural world, which she’d tried to treat so clinically, would be with her forever. She didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. She didn’t know how she was going to teach this one to swim.
She touched her face, which was wet with tears. When she tried to answer Rick, she choked. He put his arms around her and held her while she cried on his shoulder.
Succubus Seduction
Cheyenne McCray
One
Lilin opened and closed her wings, studying tonight’s prey: Archer Dane.
As a Succubus, Lilin usually had her choice of any man. They were easy creatures. A naked woman and immediately a man hardened in greeting.
She would ride him, take his seed . . . and his soul.
But this male affected her in some strange way. After centuries of taking men to replenish herself she felt less and less pleasure. Most men proved to be little sport. She needed something more.
Unseelie Queen Rusalka insisted Lilin bring her Archer’s soul. Odd. Normally, Lilin kept the male’s soul to nourish her until she claimed her next prey.
For days she’d observed Archer. A powerful man with a muscular, hard body. Strong jaw, blue eyes, black hair and a rare smile that gave her tingles all over.
Lilin licked her lower lip. She gripped the corner bedpost as her wings created a draught, teasing his hair as he slept. In all her centuries of existence, no man had thrilled her so.
Stop thinking of Archer as if he’s more than an assignment. I’ll give his soul to Queen Rusalka and move to my next prey.
After making her wings disappear, and with unusual excitement in her belly, she stepped towards him.
Archer was being watched. He kept his breathing slow but slitted his eyes enough to see.
He almost opened his eyes as surprise arrowed through him.
A beautiful, petite naked woman.
With wings. She fucking had wings.
A breeze brushed his face every time she opened and closed those wings. The woman licked her bottom lip and looked at him like he was a treat. Her wings drew back and vanished.
What the—
Archer squeezed his eyes shut.
Dream. No other explanation.
He fully opened his eyes.
Nope. Still there.
The dream woman stopped. Blinked. Then smiled.
“Hello, Archer.”
He frowned as he pushed himself up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He towered over the small woman.
Her gaze widened. “Why did you get up?”
Too real. Everything about this felt real.
“Who are you?” He slept in the nude, and he and his damned erection faced her.
“I’m Lilin.” She tried to touch him, but he caught her wrist.
She moved close enough that her body heat burned into him, her bare breasts brushing his chest. The lower half of him was saying, “What are you waiting for?” But at the same time he was grinding his teeth.
This Lilin was gorgeous - long silvery-blonde hair and silver eyes glittering in the moonlight. Her scent was like a rain-washed spring night.
He hardened his grip. “I don’t know what you want, lady,” he growled, “but you’d better get your little ass out.”
She gave a seductive smile. “I want you.”
Even though his body was shouting otherwise, Archer said, “I don’t do strange women. And I sure don’t know you.”
Lilin’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “You will, Archer Dane.”
She vanished.
He let his now empty hands drop away.
Lilin frowned as she sat on the bank of the River of Life in the moonlight. She wrapped her arms around her knees and held them close.
The human had rejected her. Rejected her!
She had wanted a challenge and apparently Archer was it. She would make good on her promise and the male would come to know her. Then she would bed him and drain him of his soul.
No one refused her.
Lilin rose, spread her wings, and flew. She enjoyed the sense of freedom that accompanied flight. As an air Succubus, she drank in the growing wind like an elixir.
Soon it would be daylight in Archer’s world.
Soon she would begin her seduction.
Two
Archer Dane gripped a set of architectural plans as he strode into Dane Construction’s headquarters and headed towards his office. When he reached his office door, Archer paused to speak to his assistant.
He almost dropped the plans he was carrying and he was certain his jaw fell to the floor.
The woman from last night’s dream sat in Cammie’s seat. The nameplate now read: lilin night.
Lilin. From last night.
She looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Archer.”
He growled. “What are you—”
“Your reports are on your desk, as well as the construction loan papers.” She looked at the telephone and grabbed a stack of white notes. “Here are your messages.”
Automatically, he took the notes but gave her a fierce glare. “Where’s Cammie?”
Lilin looked at him with wide, innocent silvery eyes. “On vacation in the Florida Keys. You must have forgotten.”
No. He remembered everything. Especially last night. He hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, his hallucination playing over and over in his mind.
But here sat his hallucination. At Cammie’s desk.
He glanced to see if any employees noticed him and Lilin. Thank God everyone looked busy.
“In my office. Now,” he said to Lilin in a low voice.
“Yes, Mr Dane.” She picked up the compact laptop Cammie always used.
“Leave it,” Archer said.
Lilin set it on the desk. “Yes, Mr Dane.” The way she said “Mr Dane” in a slightly unusual accent was like a caress that made him so hard he had to grit his teeth.
Shit. He had to get into his office before any employees noticed how much Lilin affected him. He opened the door for her, then closed and locked it. Talking to this woman was not something he needed anyone to walk in on.
Archer turned from locking the door and froze. The architectural plans fell from one hand. His messages slipped from the other and scattered across the floor.
He was face to face with a very naked woman.
Before he had a chance to react Lilin had her arms around his neck and her body pressed to his. Her diamond-hard nipples rubbed him through his shirt and his erection pressed against her belly. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Ah, God. He almost dropped to his knees - they actually went weak. Lilin’s kiss was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t begin to resist. His mind spun and all he could think about was laying her flat on his desk and driving deep inside her. His brain turned to mush and his body into one horny sex machine.
Damn, Lilin knew how to kiss. She tasted of woman and almonds, and her scent drove him crazy — the smell of rain after a thunderstorm.
She thrust her tongue into his mouth and made soft purring sounds. She nibbled his lower lip then teased his tongue with hers. As they kissed, she drew him with her so that they were moving backwards until she hit something hard. His desk. File folders crashed to the floor as she scooted onto the surface.
Lilin wrapped her arms around his neck again and brought him down with her as she continued the magic of her kiss. She pulled him closer until he stood between her thighs, his hardness pressed against her heat.
&
nbsp; Archer placed one of his hands on her soft breast and pinched her nipple, causing her to purr louder. He moved the fingers of his other hand between their bodies and slipped them inside her core. She made small sounds of pleasure against his mouth as he rubbed her with his thumb.
He had to take her. And now. He braced one hand on the desk and reached to unfasten his jeans with the other.
Something knocked at the back of his mind as he continued kissing Lilin, the heat and fervour between them growing and growing.
He couldn’t think clearly. The haze of lust was so strong.
The knocking in his head wouldn’t stop.
Wait. It wasn’t in his head. Someone was at his door.
The realization was enough to scatter the haze and bring him back to reality. He pushed away from the desk, away from Lilin, and shook his head to clear his mind.
The knocking grew louder.
“Mr Dane,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door, “Mr Garfield’s here for his ten o’clock appointment. Is everything all right?” It was Molly’s voice and she sounded both concerned and curious. She’d probably seen him walk in with Lilin.
Archer stepped back and nearly stumbled into one of the padded chairs in front of his desk. Lilin’s beautiful breasts were pink from his caresses, her lips swollen from his kisses and her thighs wide, exposing her soft pink flesh. A wicked smile tilted the corners of her lips.
Another knock. Archer raised his voice. “I’ve been on an important call, Molly. Be right there.
“Get your clothes on,” he ordered Lilin in a low growl. “However you were hired, you’re now fired. Don’t come back here.”
She pouted. “Don’t you want to take me?”
“Yes . . . No! Get your clothes on.” He glanced around for her skirt and blouse. The only things on the floor were the scattered messages and architectural plans that he had to pick up in a hurry before Garfield came into the room. Archer turned back to his desk.
Lilin was gone.
Archer couldn’t move. This woman - or whatever was happening to him - was driving him mad.
He hurried around his desk and checked under it. Nothing. There was no other possible place for her to hide in his office, which contained only his desk, chairs and a round conference table. She definitely wasn’t under the table.