Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “Why?” She felt her fire come back, no longer weepy. Thank God. “So you can choke the life out of me while knowing it, Tariq?”

  He shifted against her, his eyes nearly black, and fitted himself tighter between her legs. “Choking is not what I have in mind.” His slow smile had her heart racing even faster, and not out of fear. “But not here, little one. We must go.”

  “But I…” What she wanted to say trailed off as she lost herself in his gaze.

  She heard him sigh, felt another kiss against her lips, then succumbed to the whisper of sleep beckoning her close.

  Tariq stroked her dark hair, marveling at the fragile beauty of the woman’s face. He’d seen her yesterday in the street, but he hadn’t gotten more than a cursory glance. It had been a vague feeling, a coming home, that had made him look up in the first place. Then a desperate need to protect an innocent had him ordering Hasani to mesmerize the woman into forgetting all about them and making her escape.

  Could it be a coincidence Set had ordered him to bring this Eden Dixon to his temple in the city? Set had been adamant that Tariq bring the woman—and the vial—to his temple. But why? Had Set been sending him those dreams about her? For centuries? Had the visions been nothing but a ruse to draw Tariq into some new torment?

  Why then did he feel such a pull toward her? Staring into the face of perfection, he felt so much more than lust or that elusive love he would never know without this heart. Some connection joined them, and he’d need to know what it was before the spell forced him to bring her to Set. Despite the canny god’s insistence, Set hadn’t mandated when Tariq had to bring her, only that he deliver her alive and with the vial. Not much time to play with, but Tariq would take what he could get.

  Leaving Eden on the bed while he did a thorough search of her home, he found nothing. But he hadn’t expected to. If Set couldn’t force the woman to give up her mysterious vial, she must have hidden it somewhere under magical protection. He’d need to convince her to give it to him. Then, once he knew what he was dealing with, Tariq would figure out how best to handle the woman.

  For now, he’d take her into his keeping. He picked her up in his arms, aware of her deceptively slight frame. Though tall for a mortal female, she felt light. She had all the appropriate curves and feminine features he loved—full breasts, ripe lips, thickly lashed eyes, and long, silky hair. Though her waist and hips seemed trimmer than he normally liked, he would have no problem watching her ride him as they came together in climax.

  Annoyed by his arousal that continued to grow in her presence, he carried her to his waiting conveyance and nodded at Asim to drive them home.

  Asim raised a brow but didn’t question Tariq, for which he was grateful. He cradled the female to him as they drove and couldn’t help sniffing her hair. The scent eluded him for some reason.

  “Vanilla and jasmine,” Asim offered from the front. He grinned at Tariq through the rearview mirror. “I have a very keen sense of smell.”

  “Thanks.” Tariq stifled a snarl at Asim’s amusement. “Something you find funny?”

  “No, T. Not a thing.” Asim glanced at the bundle in Tariq’s arms, and his grin widened. “Nothing funny at all about you literally sniffing after a human.”

  “Fuck off. You’re as bad as Hasani.”

  Asim chuckled.

  They continued the drive home in silence while Tariq tried to figure out why Eden Dixon felt so right in his arms. He wasn’t desperate for a woman, though it had been a good year since the last time he’d lost himself between a woman’s thighs. Most of the time he focused on duty, serving not only Anubis but the righteous dead in Duat.

  The harem no longer interested him, and for years, he’d been dissatisfied with even brief sexual encounters. Though he had no heart, a part of him still longed for a more meaningful connection with his bed partners.

  He ran a finger over the female’s cheek, taken with her smooth skin. Asleep, she seemed so vulnerable, easily broken. Yet she would have much strength in her if she had refused Set. He’d do well to remember that and not be taken in by her beauty.

  So he continued to remind himself, especially when she shifted in his arms and gave a soft moan, grinding against his already painful erection. By Anubis’s teeth, he felt ready to rut, come, and rut some more.

  He moved under her, trying to get comfortable. The ride felt as if it lasted forever, with Asim finding every bump and divot in the road to shove Eden’s comely backside against him. Fortunately, they arrived at the warehouse and parked in the garage before he did what he hadn’t in centuries and came in his gods-be-damned trousers.

  Asim opened the door for him and stood back while Tariq carried her up the wide stairs to their living quarters—an enchanted section of Anubis’s headquarters that should have kept all enemies out. Tariq had reasoned that because Set held a part of his soul, the god had been able to breech their safeguards. Even so, he’d cautioned the others to increase their vigilance and strengthen their protective wards.

  “Hey, T. That a gold bar in your pants or are you really happy to be holding her?” Hasani asked as Tariq joined the others.

  Asim laughed. “I’ve been doing my best to say nothing. He’s quite irritable for some reason.”

  His companions stepped closer to ogle the woman in his arms.

  “Yeah. Some reason,” Chig added with a snort. “Our fearless leader needs to spend his seed.”

  Tariq hated that he flushed. He could kill centaurs and gorgons, slice through battlecats and berserkers alike. But when it came to sex, he’d much rather do it than talk about it. A holdover from his zealot of a father—the same bastard who’d first brought him Set’s unwelcome attention.

  “What’s so important about her? Do we know?” Chig asked.

  Tariq shrugged, careful not to disturb her. “Set wants her. And what he wants he should never have. We’ll need extra watches while she’s here.”

  “Good point.” Manu nodded. “Here.” He handed Tariq a medallion. “Mbizi crafted it to protect the void in your soul. You should have no more interference from the Dark One while under Anubis’s protection.”

  Mbizi, their resident sorcerer, nodded. “Manu and I will stand guard throughout the day. Chig and Hasani have cast extra wards as well.”

  “Want me to make you a potion to take care of that?” Hasani pointed to Tariq’s noticeable erection.

  “Maybe he’d rather someone else take care of it.” Asim glanced from Tariq to Eden and raised a brow.

  “Don’t you all have a defensive perimeter to reinforce?” Tariq scowled and held Eden protectively against his chest.

  Chig grinned. “So if you aren’t after any of us to ease your needs, what can we do for our esteemed leader?”

  “I’d offer my humble services, but our great one has need of another pair of lips.” Hasani put his finger over his mouth. “Soft, tender lips that can swallow a man whole and take from him the milky seed that flows like—”

  “Would you shut up?” Tariq’s face felt hot, more so when his men laughed at him. The bastards. “I’m taking her to my room. Don’t disturb me unless you’re on fire,” he growled, his thick rod more than ready to take root in Eden’s warmth.

  “Yes, Lord Hard-On.” Hasani never knew when to shut up.

  Tariq’s eyes narrowed, and he gave his man a telekinetic slap upside the head.

  “Ow.”

  Chig’s eyes widened. “You must have really pissed him off to have him using his god-gifts.”

  Though all his men had mental powers beyond mere guardians, most were limited. Unlike Tariq, whose mental powers combined with a physical strength and made him so attractive to a monster like Set. He normally tucked them away, trying to forget about his potential to destroy with ease.

  Hurrying from the common space to his quarters upstairs, he entered and sought his large bed. The room didn’t hold much, but it had access to the communal bathing chamber, as well as enough space for a massive bed, table and
chairs, and a spacious library.

  He placed Eden in the middle of his bed and studied her, as he could not earlier.

  Her simple shirt came only to mid-thigh. Such silky legs she had. So long and toned. He licked his lips, wanting to feast on her as much as he wanted answers.

  She turned, and her shirt rode up, exposing a pale flank and a trim ass not covered by much more than the thin string of her panties. No, not panties. A thong, it was called.

  He gripped himself, trying to calm the sudden desire heating him from the inside out. For all that he was outside of what most considered normal, even Tariq knew he shouldn’t be reacting to a female with such hunger.

  What was it about her?

  She opened her eyes and stared at him through blue pools of arousal. “Ah, beloved. You have come back to me.” She smiled at him and held out her arms with love and affection.

  He saw it, felt it, wanted it.

  And like a helpless fool, he lowered himself to the bed and joined her, content to hold her until Set stripped the flesh from his bones once more.

  Chapter Four

  Eden opened her eyes, staring into a face she knew well. Tariq, Anubis’s champion. Her lover, her heart, the missing part of her soul. She reached for him, wanting the love only he could give her.

  But as he neared her, she felt the taint of Set on him. Felt the cold shadow that lingered in his heart, splintering his soul like so many others Set held on to with clawed hands.

  Tariq must have seen the change in her because he stopped and leaned up over her on his elbows, not lowering the rest of the way to press them fully together. Only from the waist down did they touch.

  A massive man, he dwarfed her. With ease, he could take what he wanted, and he obviously wanted her.

  Whatever else lay between them, honest desire more than existed. She burned for another kiss. His thick arousal would fit easily against the slick clench of her sex.

  He inhaled, and his nostrils flared. “You smell like honey. So sweet.”

  She put a hand to his chest though he did no more than speak. “Sweet,” she repeated and had to clear her throat around a ball of arousal. “I’ve never been called that before.”

  “Never?” His gaze burned into her, and it took all she had to keep her hand between them.

  “I…no. Never.” She drew in a deep breath then let it out. “What the hell’s happening? Who are you really? Why am I here?” He was her lover? Her heart? None of it made any sense.

  He sighed and levered himself off her to sit next to her on the bed. She sat up with him, doing her best to pull her sleep shirt down as far as it could go. Her lack of a bra and damp thong—thanks a lot, Tariq—gave her much less cover than she liked. Not that he seemed to mind, since his gaze continued to linger on her breasts and exposed thighs. His erection had yet to go down as well. And stupid Eden had her own hard time looking away from that.

  He raised his gaze to her face and sighed. “I am Tariq, one of Anubis’s Elite—his personal guard, of which there are six.”

  She frowned. “Anubis?” That sounded familiar.

  “Guardian of the Scales, He Who Weighs Souls.”

  “Not ringing a bell.” At his look, she clarified, “I still don’t know him.”

  “He’s often been depicted as an Egyptian deity with the head of a jackal and the body of a man. At the time of a soul’s death, Anubis weighs its heart, and that weight decides where the soul will go for eternity.”

  She blinked, recalling ancient history lessons from school. “You mean Anubis the god? As in, mythology?”

  “Not a myth. Anubis is real. He is my god, and I am his humble servant.”

  She stared at him. “Not much seems humble about you, big guy.” And yeah, he was big all over. The slutty side of Eden wanted to measure him with her tongue. Which made little sense. She’d never had all that much of a sex drive. Not with her strange sleep habits and tendency to see things other people couldn’t. She could never be honest with her partners, and casual one-night stands had never appealed to her.

  She’d thought she had a low sex drive, which didn’t explain why she kept wanting to ride Tariq like her own pet pony.

  “Why do you look at me in such a way?” He stroked the racing pulse at the base of her throat.

  Just his touch sent her lust into the stratosphere.

  She moved back on the bed to put more space between them. A mistake, because it inched up her already short sleep shirt. “So, ah, this Anubis…”

  Tariq watched her with the eyes of a hawk.

  “You believe in an Egyptian god. Right. But I don’t. I’m not all that religious, honestly. So why am I here?”

  His eyes narrowed on her face. “You are here because you have the vial. Something Set wants badly.”

  “Who? What vial? What are you talking about?” Genuinely confused, she wanted only to understand. And maybe have Tariq take off his shirt and get comfy while he explained everything. Stop it, slutty Eden!

  Tariq rubbed his eyes. “I am here, with the rest of the Elite, to participate in Ludos Deorum—the Games of the Gods. My god, along with many others, competes to win rounds. Then we come together at the end to see which pantheon shall have reining status as supreme over the others for however many centuries or millennia until the next games. Eternity can be trying, and this competition keeps them from going after one another and possibly destroying this world.”

  Destroying the world. Riiight. She stared at him. Too bad he was a few Froot Loops short of a bowl. With a body and face like that, it was almost a crime not to try him on for size. Eden had a thing about staying away from loony people. Definitely past time to go.

  He grabbed her arm before she could scoot off the bed and run for help.

  “You have seen my men fighting with the Greeks. Centaurs, followers of Ares.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Hasani’s tricks did not work on you. I see the truth in your eyes.”

  She wanted to look away but couldn’t.

  “Tell me why I know you,” he ordered. “Why Set wants you, and where the vial is. I will help you. I swear on my life I will do my best to protect you.”

  He sounded sincere—as much as he sounded kooky.

  “Um, right. This vial. I’m not sure what you mean. I told you before, my perfumes are—”

  “The Elixir of Life, he called it.” Tariq stroked her arm where he held her, and she felt herself trembling from a bad case of misplaced affection, desire, and a need to touch him right back. So not normal. “Set is the Lord of Chaos and Destruction. If he wants something you’ve created, he will not stop until he gets it. He can be a most punishing god.”

  “Another god. Great.” An image came to her then from her dreams. She frowned. “Does this guy have scarily good looks, cold eyes, sharp teeth, and wear some really rotten smelling cologne?” She recalled the handsome yet frightening man with crystal clarity. “Crocodile teeth.”

  He nodded. “He’s powerful. Very dangerous. And he wants you and what you created. The Elixir of Life.” Tariq studied her.

  “I…” Dreams came to her of things that couldn’t be real. Ingredients conjured at the snap of his fingers, a drop of her blood, of his blood, a flash of lightning and storm, of death itself crawling out from the floorboards in her house. “Last night I came home, thinking about the weird fight in the street. And then I saw him, I think. Set. I lost time. There were several hours where I’d swear I was making something, a recipe recited by someone, or something.” She shook her head. “I see things sometimes. Things that aren’t real. I dream a lot, and sometimes my dreams show me…um, things.”

  “What things?”

  You, me, naked on a bed of pillows. One of her favorites. She cleared her throat and told him of what she might have seen last night. “And sometimes I’ve seen stuff from history. A lot of pyramids, sand, people with animal heads. Heck, even centaurs—and I know what those are because I’ve watched some killer fantasy movies lately. Elves, kid wizards, stuff l
ike that. But Set, your crocodile guy, I don’t remember meeting him until last night.” She continued to watch him watching her and lost her train of thought. Absently, she said, “So I have to know.”

  “Yes?” The hand holding her started rubbing her arm. His fingers drew closer to her shoulder then her neck. He teased her sensitive skin but didn’t threaten.

  Her entire body tingled. She couldn’t explain why she felt safe with him, but she did. “How tall are you?”

  He stared at her before a slow smile worked its way over his sensual lips. “Tall enough.”

  “For what?” she asked, breathless and still so confused.

  “To remind you of who I am.” He leaned forward and kissed her.

  And she was lost. Again. And wet. Again. What was the point of panties if they didn’t protect her from men like this?

  Tariq couldn’t help it. He’d been trying to answer her questions, to make her feel safe enough to trust him with her secrets. But though he’d tried, she stared at him as though he were touched in the head.

  By Sekhmet’s Mound, he couldn’t stop smelling Eden. Attuned to all his senses, he smelled her need growing as they talked. Could see the tight beads of her nipples pushing against the thin cotton she wore. Despite knowing she was trouble, that Set wanted her, and that the god would come looking for her sooner rather than later, Tariq had to have her. Just a small taste to sate his curiosity, at least.

  But the moment their lips met, he lost himself in her scent. Jasmine, vanilla, and Eden. A unique blend of innocence and desire. When he cupped her breast, she moaned, and he took advantage. Swiping his tongue along the seam of her lips, he penetrated with a sharp thrust and entered the sweet recess of her mouth.

  How could she taste like his favorite honeyed candy? He licked and sucked, teething her tongue when it met his.

  She clutched his shoulders, somehow on his lap though he didn’t recall putting her there. But so close, he couldn’t not touch her.