Blood Dreams 03 Endless Night

by Mlyn Hurn

  Darien paused, looking at Jordan. Their gazes met and he knew instantly… the attraction was mutual. Double damn!

  “Old country? Would that by any chance be Transylvania?” Jordan asked a few seconds later.

  “Birdie has traveled to a lot of places in his lifetime.”

  “He’s a Mel’chin demon, isn’t he? How many years do they live nowadays?”

  Darien leaned back in his chair. The blond god knew more than the average New Yorker. “Most live at least two hundred years. I’m not sure how old Birdie is because he used to work for my father. Now, why did you want to see me, Mr. Dampier?”

  “Please, call me Jordan. I tracked a website to this address.”

  Darien froze at Jordan’s words. Website! What the hell? He didn’t know anything about any damned webbed anything!

  “The guys have a computer they use for games downstairs. I’ll admit they tend to visit some of the porn sites, but they don’t mean any harm by it. They are both pretty innocuous.”

  Jordan shook his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here. This contact address is listed for a very specific website talking about alchemy. Some of the theories it espouses are pretty radical, and I wanted to talk to the author.”

  Darien leaned back in his chair. He tried to keep his expression bland. Obviously Dargon had been quite the busy beaver at the keyboard. Just how much the bastard had put online he’d have to find out, and then remove all of it. He figured joking about it might work. “Medieval sciences catch your interest, huh? Fool’s gold is all that ever proved to be.”

  Jordan leaned forward in his chair, both forearms resting on the table and his hands curved around his glass. “There is a lot more to it than that. Some believe with enough power, you can transmute something common into something very extraordinary. It involves having the right ingredients and the right kind of power.”

  “Sounds like black magic mumbo jumbo.” Darien gave a half-laugh, but even to his ears, it sounded unconvincing. “I assume you are talking about atomic or hydrogen bomb-type power.”

  “Not at all. There exists in the world a much greater power… that of life itself.”

  Darien felt his guts twist. Whoever this young man was, he’d somehow discovered his secret.

  * * * * *

  Taryn cursed loudly as she struggled to free her ankles. She had tried two extraction spells, and neither had done a single thing. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the restraints were already hexed.

  She’d pulled out the elastic holding her hair, still perplexed by the short hairs falling in her face. There was no way to tell the extent of the damage until she looked in a mirror. Why had her hair been cut? None of this was making any sense. Frustrated, she dropped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands.

  Thinking back, she remembered walking into the place, talking to the weird bartender. She drank the whiskey and something had caught the corner of her eye. There had been a flurry of color, or was it fabric? She’d seen a coat just like that once before… purple and gold. But where… it had been a while… so where?

  That was the last thing she remembered until waking up in this bed, chained, by a man who was Damon’s twin brother. Of course, that meant either Darien was living here without his father or brother knowing his whereabouts, or Damon had lied.

  It made the most sense that Damon would lie to protect his brother. After all, he barely knew her. And if Darien was behind this night extension thing, was Damon working with him? Perhaps their father didn’t know the truth either? It was hard to believe considering how Simon was around Blue. No, she decided a few seconds later. Simon seemed too much on the ball not to be aware of what was going on his former club. But if neither Damon or Simon was aware of Darien’s presence, then—

  The bedroom door opened and in floated an old man, sitting cross-legged. He was dressed in a brilliantly scarlet-hued silken robe, slippers that curled up at the toes and a traditional wizard’s hat. His gray hair was long, scraggly and he had a beard as well. When he saw that she was sitting up, he used a wand and spoke quickly.

  “Bind the wench unto this padded bench, when the Masters discards, I shall be there. With her power, my thirst will quench, she shall be left bare.”

  Like a flash, Taryn saw minute lights springing forth from the old man’s white wand. She knew she had but a second to react. Instinctively, her hands lifted to stop the casting. “Close off, cut out this old diviner’s tricks. Block this dried-up shylock! Let the power flow through the mystic, and the spell drops like an airless windsock!”

  Taryn held her breath as her magic worked. Tiny sparks and flashes from the wizard’s wand sputtered and fell to the carpet. She didn’t have much time to pat herself on her back, though.

  Almost immediately, the wand-wielding old man tried again. “What the—? Street walk, cakewalk, I cast these words. Tie hands and bind mouth!” He shook the wand at her feverishly and wiggled the fingers of his other hand.

  Taryn put her hands together, palms facing the struggling spell-caster. “Catwalk, crosswalk, moonwalk and spacewalk. Make sense they don’t, but neither does he. If bind you find a must, let it be this scarlet-clad peacock!”

  She shuddered as she felt her power ram headlong into his. Never before had she pitted her mystical, psychic powers against another. In the past, it was always her strength and agility that was needed in times of crisis. This was exhilarating, as well as scary. She waited and then watched as again little sparks turned into puffs of smoke and disappeared into the air between them.

  “Hrrrrpphhfffffmmmm!” The gray-haired man made a disgusted-sounding noise. He lowered his legs to the floor and stopped floating.

  Taryn guessed he had not anticipated any resistance to his spells, let alone two counter-spells. Now she needed to be wary as to what he would do next. Lamenta had spoken often that she might meet wizards, witches and warlocks as she made her way through the world, but to be honest, Taryn had had her doubts.

  She’d met lots of “wannabe” witches and warlocks. They were a lot like the pseudo-vampires, who thought that by walking the walk and talking the talk, they were then a vamp or witch. Occasionally, they’d cast a small glamour or good luck spell, and thought they were amazing in the depth and scope of their ability. Especially if they learned a few cheap sleight of hand tricks to razzle-dazzle onlookers. Once or twice, she’d enjoyed showing them what a real witch could do, but her common sense quickly set in and stopped her from going too far.

  “Who are you, wench? I know you recognized me and I know from where,” the old man demanded loudly, tapping one curled-toe shoe impatiently.

  Taryn watched as the old man began walking towards her. As he came closer, she took in his cloudy blue eyes. His age was undoubtedly much older than the wrinkles on his face proclaimed. Several seconds elapsed for her to recall she had seen this man-warlock once before. In fact, now that she let a few memories creep back into her conscious mind, it seemed as if she’d opened the floodgates.

  She and Lamenta had gone to the mall. Taryn’s birthday would occur soon, and Lamenta had insisted on buying something special. Obeying her aunt, she had gone off to look for a new outfit to wear to the dinner party they were having the next day while Lamenta did her own shopping.

  Returning to the arranged meeting spot about twenty minutes late, she had expected to find a patient Lamenta waiting. Her aunt always found watching the shoppers exciting and interesting. Taryn sat on the bench and waited patiently another fifteen minutes. She then did a quick walk around the immediate stores, glancing inside the entrance of most.

  As the time passed an hour beyond the arranged point, Taryn was getting worried. She had approached one of the mall’s security guards. He’d listened to her explanation, and when she mentioned her aunt was older, but she wasn’t sure of her age, he’d used the announcement system to try and contact her. After waiting the two hours the security people insisted, Taryn had been forced to call her family. Following her mot
her’s advice, she then went out to the car to see if by chance Lamenta had returned there to rest.

  Beneath a nearby tree, Taryn had seen her aunt and an old man. Beneath a trench coat, she’d seen brightly colored silk, like a long skirt. Without thinking, she’d called out to her aunt. “Lamenta! Lamenta!”

  Both her aunt and the old man had turned towards her. She thought she’d heard her aunt yelling something, but then she’d felt a pressure building inside her head, drowning out everything else. After that, it had seemed like she was moving but only in slow motion. No matter how she strained, she couldn’t make her legs move any faster. Her heart pumped furiously as she tried to run over to help her aunt.

  That’s when the tree behind them had seemed to open up. The gray-haired man had lifted his hands and shoved Lamenta away from him. A moment later, in a flurry of bright silk, he disappeared into the tree. Immediately, everything changed. Taryn was able to reach her aunt, who was now lying on the ground. Going down on her knees, she lifted Lamenta’s head to her lap, smoothing her hair back from her pale cheeks.

  At that point, she had no idea that her aunt was dying. She was stunned by what she’d seen. Yet it was only now did finally recall what Lamenta’s last action had been. Her aunt’s hand lifted and the palm had pressed flat over Taryn’s heart. Immediately an incredible rush of sensation had gone through her body. At the time, her emotions had been in too much turmoil to understand it.

  Looking at the old man as he now approached the bed, she knew for damned sure he was the same person she’d seen with her aunt. “You murdered my aunt,” she accused him coldly, looking at him through narrowed eyelids.

  Dargon shook his head. This wasn’t going at all well. All he had wanted to do was sneak in for a little peek at the sleeping beauty. He had cast the first spell to show his dominance. But that had not gone as he’d planned. Now it appeared this woman was related to Lamenta! This sucked!

  “I didn’t murder anyone, little missy. Who are you?” Dargon spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to someone who had difficulty understanding.

  “I saw you argue with her. You pushed her, she died. Now, take these damned things off my ankles,” she accused without answering his question.

  Dargon took a step closer to the bed. “It would help if you could tell me your name, missy. I am Dargon, the magnificent. Warlock extraordinaire! Grand Wizard of all things mystical.”

  Taryn crossed her arms across her chest. “Sounds like someone has been reading their own press a little too much lately. How do you fit that big head through the door?”

  Dargon stopped his grand gestures that had accompanied his pronouncements. “My head isn’t big! Of course, I can go through the door. What a silly thing to say!”

  “I meant that you have a big ego, Mr. Wizard. Think a lot of yourself, huh?” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

  No one talked to the great Dargon in this impudent, disrespectful fashion and especially not a chit of a girl! “How dare you speak to me in this way? Do I need to silence your tongue?” Dargon lifted his hands, but stopped as she matched his movements.

  “You want to match powers again? Fine by me!” the girl told him pertly, and then she had the nerve to fold her arms across her chest, just as he did!

  It was just too much. Too much, indeed! “You must respect me,” Dargon demanded.

  Shaking her head, the woman replied, “Respect is earned these days, buster. I’ve yet to seen anything to impress me.”

  “What about last night?” Dargon protested quickly. “I knocked you out.”

  “And transported me down here?”

  “Well, uhm, no. I made you unconscious, but it was the big guy who carried you down here,” Dargon admitted reluctantly. “I’m sure I could have done a transposition spell, if need be.”

  “So, Darien carried me from the bar to here?”

  “No, Birdie did. That fourth hand comes in handy sometimes.” Dargon started to smile, but stopped himself. “Because of Lamenta’s interference, I was stuck in that… uhm… that place for months.”

  “What a darned shame! My aunt’s been stuck being dead forever! That thing you did killed her. I saw you do it.”

  “Well… she kept arguing with me. I told Lamenta to leave me alone.”

  “Ah ha! You’ve said her name twice now, which means that you did know her. Why did you have to kill her?” Taryn squirmed around on the bed, managing to curl her legs despite the restraints, getting up on her knees. “I know some cops, you know. I can have you arrested and locked up forever!” She gestured wildly with her hands.

  “Aaaaaaaeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy!” Dargon screamed in a high-pitched voice. He didn’t delay. He ran out of the room, and the door slammed shut behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  Blue groaned as she turned over in the big bed. Places ached that she’d not realized she even had! But complaining was the last thing she had on her mind. After meeting with Jordan last night, they had returned to the hotel suite. Her lips curved upwards as she remembered some of the things they had done.

  “If I’ve ever seen a smile that spells sexy thoughts, that is it.” Simon spoke from beside her.

  She turned to look at him. He looked like a sexy animal, a predator, who even while seemingly relaxed was never truly far away from a full defensive posture. His black hair was ruffled from sleep and falling onto his forehead. She rolled onto her side so she could see him more easily. “I don’t know if I’m having sexy imaginings or not. I do know that if had been wearing socks, you would have knocked them off… at least twice that I can recall.”

  Simon threw his head back as he laughed out loud. Propped up on one elbow, she thought he’d make a good centerfold for a calendar called “Vampires I’d Die For”. Shaking her head at her nonsense, she started to get up.

  “What’s the hurry?” Simon asked, catching her wrist. With a slight pull, he had on her back once more.

  “No hurry, but I’m not sure what is consider proper etiquette.” Blue looked up at him but turned away as she met his intent gaze. Even just one look and she could feel her heart speeding up.

  “I don’t worry too much about such things, my sweet,” Simon told her as he loomed over her. “You look beautiful.”

  Blue felt his fingers lightly caressing her wildly curling hair. “I probably look like something the—” her voice faded away as she hesitated saying she’d been dragged home by a cat, or worse.

  “You look like I dragged you into my bed and refused to let you up until I’d had my evil way with you.”

  Blue shook her head. “It didn’t feel evil at all. In fact, it felt pretty darn good.”

  Simon chuckled. He moved his hand down, lightly caressing the side of her face, down her neck and onto her chest. “High praise.”

  “I’m sorry. You were fantastic, amazing… magnificent!” Blue almost shouted the last at Simon.

  “Enough, sweet princess. I’m not worthy of such praise. But I must tell you, Blue, that never before have I felt like this. I no more finish touching you and I need to do it again. I turn away from gazing at you and I feel a burning need to glance back. I am treading where I’ve never been before.”

  Blue had to blink her eyes quickly to prevent the tears welling up from spilling over. Swallowing once, she nodded. “Thank you, Simon.”

  Simon kissed her mouth lightly. “It’s the truth and I want us to be honest with one another.” He started moving down her body, pressing kisses to her neck, upper chest and the inner curve of one breast. Pausing to lightly rub his finger across her distended nipple, he shifted to lie beside her.

  Blue squirmed as his mouth closed over her taut nipple. The pull of his tongue seemed to reach nerve endings deep inside her body. It was crazy, but she was sure she felt an answering frisson of intense shudders from her lower abdomen. Instinctively her body curled in and a low groan broke from her throat.

  Simon’s hand moved straight down her stomach and past her smooth lips. His fingers began easing
between her wet, fleshy folds.

  Blue moved her legs farther apart, welcoming his gentle caresses. It was as if Simon knew she was sore from all the sex they’d been having. She would have welcomed him eagerly into her body once more. Yet he had known—

  “Oh, God! Simon!” she cried out as he cleverly used his fingers to elicit her response the same as the most skilled violinist brought beautiful music from an instrument. Her body jerked quickly in response and the whole time Simon’s hand cupped her bald pussy possessively.

  Finally she was quiet and breathing in as quickly as she could. Her heart was still racing and dimly she became aware that Simon was still intimately touching her body. Quickly she met his gaze as she realized that while she was basking in her sweet aftermath, Simon must still be—

  “Oh, Simon! I’m sorry.” She moved her hands, but he stopped her.

  “Shh.” He pulled her hands out to rest on the blanket at her waist. “I’m fine, my sweet. Between lovers you will learn that sometimes it truly is sweeter to give than receive.” Slowly, he lowered his head to kiss her lightly and gently. “Now, we’d better get moving because I doubt your brother will wait around for us very long.”

  Jordan had been enjoying sitting with this other man even though he knew it probably wasn’t wise. For many years, he had kept his desires secret from his family. Mostly because he couldn’t really do anything about sexual inclinations, heterosexual or homosexual. Pretty much, he subverted his needs with work and physical workouts. But there was something about this other man… was it a vibe, a signal or just instinctual? He’d bet money the guy was attracted to him.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name,” Jordan said a moment later.

  “It’s Darien. And please, go on with what you were saying.” The dark-haired man smiled slightly.