by Nia K. Foxx
“I do,” she admitted hurriedly. “But to wake up and find all my things here, then Pierre and the whole scene downstairs,” she rambled. “Your father must think you’ve gotten involved with a lunatic. I’m sure I look a fright.”
“You look beautiful,” he reassured, pulling her gingerly into his arms.
“Were those men relatives?”
“Some. Come to bed.”
Feeling suddenly drained, she allowed him to lead her across the room.
“I have to get back to our guests. Promise me you’ll rest? If you need anything call downstairs. Remotes are in the top drawer of the end table. If you want to watch television the screen slides down from the ceiling.”
“Will you be long?” she mumbled as he tucked her into the bed.
“I’ll try not be.”
***
Gordy paced the length of his small living room. “Okay, give it to me again.”
The pert strawberry blonde lounged against the sofa looking bored. She’d thought professors were supposed to be intelligent. Why was he wasting his time going over something she’d spent an hour explaining already, especially when they could be doing much more interesting things? Her stomach growled hungrily. She hadn’t fed since the night before and Gordy looked like a tasty entrée right about now.
She loved the transformation in him since she’d made him her slave. Gone was the sickly pale complexion. In its place was a deep even tan she knew could last year round. His formerly slight frame had filled out in all the right places and provided him with a thin yet athletic build he could never have achieved on his own. Even his blue eyes seemed to have gained an intensity he would’ve otherwise never attained. Yup, he was the best so far. Too bad he wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy it. They never were.
Her gaze wandered down to the bulge barely hidden by loose fitting sweats. Even his cock had grown something she’d never experienced before in her two thousand years of existence.
“Okay, but this is the last time.” She rolled her eyes skyward, beginning again as if he were a child. “Excluding insects, and your run of the mill animal communities, the world is made up of various creatures of ‘higher intelligence’ both seen and unseen. Mortals or humans make up a large portion of the seen world. Life walkers, succubae like me, weres, elves, gremlins and gargoyles would be the next group, although our numbers are considerably smaller. Then you have the immortals, usually vampires, although there are some beasties I would be insulted to consider as ‘higher’ intelligence’ in the category as well.”
Gordy nodded as if the order of things made sense to him.
“What about the unseen world?” he asked.
She shrugged, “It doesn’t really much matter since they are unseen and prefer to keep anonymous. To maintain a balance, none of the life-walkers or immortals is allowed to propagate their species outside of the natural order of things. If this were to happen… well, I don’t need to tell you how easily the balance could be disrupted.”
“Makes sense.”
“I know for a fact the gargoyles are looking at genetically altering human females to breed with in order to ensure their species dominate.” The lie slipped easily from her pout lips.
“And you think it’s why this Lorn De LaRue fellow, who you say is a gargoyle, wants Fatima, to use her as guinea pig?” Gordy stopped his pacing, rounding on the enticing woman.
“Possibly, but more importantly he needs her expertise as a cellular biologist.”
“Well, he’s barking up the wrong tree there. She’s not that type of scientist.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” she disagreed, reaching for her oversized bag lying discarded on the floor. Pulling out the thick file she handed it over. “It seems your little girlfriend has been keeping secrets,” she remarked snidely as he perused the file. It had taken a lot for her to get the information, agreeing to some very unsavory things with an awfully pungent gremlin, but it was worth it, especially if it meant convincing Professor Gullible to go along with her plans.
“This can’t be,” he croaked.
“Fraid so. Your little anthropologist is a lot more than she appears.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Don’t know.” She tried looking empathetic, an emotion not natural for her kind. Seeing an opportunity to temporarily change the topic she rose to her feet. Her hips swayed as she strode across the room to where he stood
“Maybe you can ask her the next time you see her, hmmm?” She sidled up to him, arms wrapping her arms around his waist as she pressed against him in what she hoped was a consolatory hug. She caught his delectable scent, and her stomach growled loudly.
“What do you need me to do?”
A sweet smile broke out across her face belying the truly evil nature dwelling within. She licked her lips in anticipation of her plot coming to fruition, but before she got down to business it was time for a little pleasure and feeding.
Chapter Seven
Whatever had ailed her before was completely forced out of her system the next day. She felt good, better than good in fact. Lorn had joined her in bed sometime during the evening. She vaguely remembered him cuddling her as she slept and waking her on occasion to make sure she ate and had plenty of fluids. The next morning, they enjoyed a leisurely shower which left her completely frustrated and unsatisfied.
“If you’re feeling up to it, my father would like us to join him for breakfast,” he started, after they’d dressed silently.
“It’s fine with me,” Fatima answered.
Silently she considered what could be on his mind. He’d been distracted since they rolled out of bed, giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead. At first, she thought he assumed she was still ill, but she’d quickly dispelled the worry, eager to have his hands on her body and not in a nurturing way. She was certain when he’d suggested their shower together it would lead to some clean fun. Instead Lorn seemed preoccupied as he bathed her body. He was obviously aroused but proceeded to wash her down with little interest.
Had she done something wrong? She contemplated the idea as they made their way down to the formal dining room.
“Good morning,” Krail greeted, rising from his seat at the table and coming around to give her a brief kiss on the cheek.
Fatima instantly liked the cheery man, reminding her of her own father before the sickle cell took hold of him. She was also aware of the other man sitting opposite the older version of Lorn as he too rose.
“Good morning.” He nodded, his voice lacking the warmth of the older man but still nice enough.
“This is my youngest son, Jean.”
When the men had stepped into the foyer yesterday, she was surprised at how greatly they seemed to resemble each other, but now less distracted, she was able to appreciate the subtle differences. Unlike Lorn’s long mane, Jean wore his hair in a more conservative fashion, tapered closely on the sides. He looked a tad younger, maybe a couple of years, definitely not by much.
“Fatima,” Lorn bit out from the head of the table.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, realizing she’d been staring. “It’s just you all look so much alike, it’s uncanny,” she said taking her seat.
“Yes, It can be a little unnerving to most,” Krail accepted.
“Were all the other men relatives of yours?”
“Of sorts,” Lorn interjected.
“We have all known each other for so long we are like brothers,” Jean added.
“It must be nice having such a close knit group of friends,” she commented, remembering the almost solitary existence she would be returning to in Los Angeles. Sure, she had a few acquaintances but no family or deep friendships to speak of; she doubted anyone would even notice her absence.
“Surely a woman such as you must have many friends,” his father continued.
Fatima looked absently down at her plate. A moment before, she’d been starved. “No.”
“Fatima is an only child. Both of her parents are deceased,�
� Lorn explained, his voice surprisingly soft.
Their eyes met across the wide expanse of the table. Although she had never talked to him about her parents, she was certain the background check he’d done on her had turned up the information too.
“I am sorry to hear it,” Krail answered with all sincerity.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. How many times had she heard the sentiment over the years?
“Lorn says you’re helping him with his research,” Jean switched topics.
“Yes, although my sickness has set us back a couple days. There’s so much to be done, a year will pass by so quickly.”
“If you need any extra help I’d be happy to stay on and offer my services,” Jean offered.
“No,” Lorn eyed his brother. “I’m sure we’ll be back on track in a few days.”
“Of course,” the younger man nodded his agreement.
“So what brought you all here?” At their silence she added, “If you don’t mind me asking?”
“An emergency meeting of the Council. Those of us in the vicinity gather and the others usually join via teleconference.”
“Am I keeping you from something important?” she asked Lorn. “As I said before, I’m perfectly capable of handling the research if you need to be conducting business.”
“We have laid the matter to rest already,” he informed her.
There was another moment of silence before Krail continued with his questioning.
“I know your parents have passed on, but what of other relations, perhaps cousins?”
“There are some,” she admitted. “But where they are exactly I have no idea. My father was an orphan and my mother didn’t keep in touch much with her own family.”
“What was the cause for her separation?” Krail asked.
“I’m not really sure. She and her sisters took their own paths in life. Mother never spoke of them.” Fatima remembered asking her mother once about her family only to be told she wouldn’t meet them. The look of sadness that had crossed her mother’s face was enough to prevent her from broaching the topic again. She knew very little about her parents’ past and upbringing. In her youth it had never mattered much because they’d loved her unconditionally. But now she couldn’t help but wonder at the secrecy.
A look passed between the men she couldn’t quite translate before Lorn introduced another topic. The remainder of breakfast was eaten with light conversation. Fatima tried to learn about Lorn through his family but found them to be a very close-mouthed group about private matters. Of course, she reminded herself, as far as they were concerned she was just the hired help who happened to be sleeping with her boss. The thought made her uneasy. This was all a very new realm for her. She knew people did this sort of thing all the time, but Krail and his sons seemed of a different era. Did they think less of her because of their sleeping arrangements? And why did she even care?
***
“I hope my father and brother didn’t pry too much into your personal life,” Lorn began later as they made their way into the labs. His family left immediately following breakfast making their apologies for their quick departures.
“They were fine,” she muttered, still wondering with unease over his family’s opinion of their current cohabitation.
Fatima grabbed up her notebook pretending to read over notes from their last time in the secured room. Maybe she should insist they return back to the status quo. She paused, realizing she didn’t know what the status quo was for them. Virgin or not, she’d had sex with a man she didn’t know anything about. What was wrong with her, how could one man have her acting so out of character?
“Is something wrong?” Lorn was at her side in a matter of seconds, tilting her head up with a finger under her chin.
“Nothing.” She took several steps back to put some distance between them. “I want to finish the carbon dating on this stuff,” she added quickly before hurriedly taking a bundle of documents off their shelves.
Lorn contemplated stopping her, but in the end decided to give her the space she needed, for now. He’d noted her inquiries into his youth and her later preoccupation when she didn’t seem to get the answers she wanted. She was hurt, and quite possibly drawing all the wrong conclusions because of their evasiveness. He knew time was running out in telling her the truth about him. Them. Soon her senses would begin to sharpen. Already her beauty had become more pronounced, but she’d had little time to notice.
***
Absently, she kneaded a knot in the back of her neck, not sure how much time had passed since her last visit into the research room. She tried to block Lorn out when she went to retrieve her next set of items, much the same way he’d done her all day. His broad back was to her when she entered the room while he scribbled notes in a binder. She wasn’t sure of the time, just knew it was late. They’d had a quick but quiet lunch and dinner. Her mood darkened. She watched through the two-way Plexiglas as he continued flipping through his notes. She could’ve been invisible for all the attention he paid her.
“I’m going to call it a night,” she announced, putting away her items for the evening. Despite her racing thoughts, she’d still managed to make a considerable dent in the carbon dating. At this pace she would soon be working with him on translations.
“I’ll be up shortly,” he replied without looking up.
She bit her bottom lip to distract from the sudden knot in her chest.
What’s wrong with you, she berated herself as she left the room with controlled footsteps. Did you expect him to be ready to drop everything? Yeah she did actually, how absurd was that?
She entered his rooms, for the briefest moment entertaining the idea of showering and waiting for him to come up. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to stay. Instead she grabbed a few things from his closet and made her way into her recently abandoned room. Tomorrow she would have the rest of her things brought back over and put the matter completely to rest. In the shower, she dropped her guard and gave free rein to emotions she’d bottled up all day.
This was why she didn’t date.
***
Lorn heard her soft footfalls as she made her way to their rooms. He fought the urge to follow her. She paused before padding to the closet, her steps carrying her back across the room. He’d expected to hear the gentle sound of clothes dropping, perhaps a shower. Instead what he heard next had his back stiffening. She walked back down the hall, to her old room. He waited. Maybe something had been left behind. He ground his teeth when he heard the shower turn on from the one place she’d been forbidden.
With the speed known to gargoyles, he was out of the lab and up the stairs in the time it would take a heart to beat. He’d tried giving her space today, allowed her to focus on their work, and what did he get in return? Disobedience.
He registered the shocked look on her face as he reached into the shower to stop the water’s hot flow. The next instance he had her drenched naked body cradled in his arms as he strode down the hall to their room.
Fatima let out a yelp as he dumped her unceremoniously onto the large bed.
“What are you doing?” she gasped as he jerked clothes off his body. He was naked in seconds, his erection illustrating his instant arousal. She scrambled to the center of the bed. “If you think I’m having sex with you tonight, then you have another think coming.” She was glad her words sounded braver than she felt.
The expression ‘the calm before the storm’ came instantly to mind, as he stood regarding her in all his nude glory, body still as stone. She was reminded of the tapestry of the gargoyle hanging above his fireplace.
“If you think standing there like the brooding lord of the castle is supposed to intimidate me, let me reassure you it doesn’t.” she edged closer to the side of the bed furthest from him.
“Stay.” He snapped the order, but didn’t make any other attempt to halt her movements.
“I don’t think so,” she said before bounding from the bed. Conscious of her nakedness but no
t caring, she made for the closed door. The taste of freedom was bittersweet as she turned the knob but couldn’t get the door to budge. She jiggled the handle again, looking over her shoulder to where Lorn stood across the room watching her before giving it a quick examination. There was no lock. She jerked on the door again.
“Return to bed, Fatima.” This time the command came out evenly.
“You know this whole ordering thing you’re so fond of is getting old.”
“This is your final warning.”
“Whatever,” she said, crossing arms over her breasts, the gesture more to cover than in defiance.
Something akin to a growl erupted from him before he was on her, tossing her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
He dumped her none too gently on the bed, the impact knocking the wind out of her, leaving her gasping for air. No sooner had she regained her ability to breathe Lorn lodged himself between her legs, holding her hands on either side of her head.
“This is the last time I will tell you this,” he began. “This is your room too. This is where you will sleep, wake and be taken by me. I will not have you disobey me again.”
Disobey? Who did he think he was?
“Let me go, Lorn.” She tried wiggling loose. “I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to but I’m not simple minded or easily manipulated nor will I have a man dictate to me.”
“You will obey me in all things, but especially this.” His gaze was so intense she caught her breath.
“I’m my own woman,” she said, her words sounding as weak as she felt beneath him.
“That, my little ebony beauty, is where you’re wrong. You are mine.”
She sputtered at his arrogance.
“Shall I show you?” It was a statement more than a question. He easily clasped both her hands in one of his larger ones, securing her wrists above her head.
“No,” she protested, bucking under him, which only managed to bring her intimately in contact with his stiff erection.