Darkest Fire

by Tawny Taylor

  Intentionally, to capture Oram’s attention, the men talked about the Chimera and the Black Gryffons, revealing a bit of information here and there that only a Black Gryffon would know.

  Drako, hoping their enemy would fall into their trap instead, watched the video displayed on the computer screens in front of him.

  “I don’t know about this.” Spinning around to face Drako, Malek scowled. “Oram’s too smart to fall for such an obvious ploy.”

  “He may be smart, but he’s also highly motivated. After what happened the last time they tried to steal The Secret, he’s got a lot to prove to the rest of the Chimera. They’re going to be watching every move he makes. A guy like that isn’t going to let anyone see him fail. He’s going to want to believe we’re stupid enough to stroll in there. That’s all it takes, to give someone what they think they want.”

  “Are we still talking about Oram, here?” Malek gave Drako a nudge in the rib cage.

  “Yes, of course we are.” Drako pointed at the computer monitors. “Just keep watching.”

  “What exactly are we expecting Oram to do? You don’t think he’s going to jump out of a corner and start shooting.”

  “No, of course not. If he kills us, he won’t know where we’ve hidden The Secret. That’s what he’s after.”

  “So, he’ll . . . take one of us hostage and demand a ransom?”

  “That’s one possibility.”

  Malek studied him with sharp eyes. “You actually sent two men in that building, knowing they may be taken hostage? I didn’t think you could do something like that—let another man put his life in jeopardy for us.”

  “You’re right.” His nerves wound so tight, he could barely sit, Drako leaned forward, staring at the monitor. “I’m not happy about it. Exactly the opposite. I tried to come up with another idea, one that wouldn’t put anyone in danger, but this was the only plan I could come up with. We want to stop the Chimera, but we can’t be stupid about it. We have to protect our identities, no matter what.” He pushed his hands through his hair, the movement barely burning off some of the excess energy charging through his system. “Believe me, I’d much rather be in there, putting my ass on the line than hiding in this goddamn van.”

  Malek patted Drako’s shoulder, a sign of support. His expression, once assessing, had softened. “Of all people, I can appreciate how hard this is for you.”

  “Thanks.” Drako gave his brother a grateful smile over his shoulder before turning back around. “By the way, I think it’s time for you and Talen to move back home.”

  “Why? I thought you wanted us to wait a month or so. Are you worried about something?”

  “No, not really. Nothing specific. But with our change in strategy, I’d feel better if we were all under one roof. Until Oram’s stopped.”

  “Okay. Do you want me to tell Talen or will you?”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  That settled, Drako sat back and watched the monitors in silence. Because he was expecting something to happen at any moment, time dragged. Minutes felt like hours, hours like days. The two men who were pretending to be him and Malek took the opportunity to do some searching of the massive building, just in case Drako was wrong about Oram’s reason for coming there a few days ago. By nightfall, they’d found nothing, and nobody had found them. No suspicious vehicles had come anywhere close either.

  If Oram had cameras in the building, he was suspicious and waiting to see what would happen next, was pulling together a team to launch an attack, or wasn’t monitoring the cameras on a real-time basis.

  Drako hit the button on the mic, transmitting to the ear-pieces the men inside were wearing. “Let’s call it a night. We’ll come back later.”

  “Copy that,” came one response.

  “Copy,” said the other.

  Malek gave him a what-now look.

  “We’ll give it a couple of days and come back. I think Oram’s waiting for the right time to make his move.” Drako settled himself behind the van’s steering wheel, started the vehicle, and, after his brother moved into the passenger seat, pulled the van out onto the street.

  Today might not have been The Day. But Drako knew in his gut, it would come soon.

  “I think I’m gonna head to the dungeon,” Malek said, clicking his seat belt into place. “I need to burn off some energy, after sitting in that cramped space so long.”

  That sounded like a damn fine idea. Drako would give anything to get his mind off things. Oram.

  Rin.

  As Drako had sat in that stuffy van, staring at grainy video images, he’d been remembering the last time he’d seen her, touched her, tasted her. He didn’t like how much she monopolized his thoughts. Images of her smile, her eyes, her body, played through his mind all day, all night. He wasn’t ready to admit this to anyone, but she genuinely captivated him.

  “You’ve been quiet today,” Malek said, breaking the silence between them.

  “I always am.” Drako flipped on the turn signal and checked the rearview mirror, watching for vehicles tailing him as he turned right. No cars turned. But unwilling to take the risk, he made several more turns before heading to the storage unit where the van would be kept until they needed it again.

  “Sure, but you’re quieter than usual. And you haven’t said anything about your wife. Not a word. How are you two getting along?”

  “Fine.” Drako stole a glance at his brother, and realizing Malek was worried not about his oldest brother’s marriage but his own upcoming nuptials, Drako gave Malek’s shoulder a thump with his fist. “It isn’t as bad as I thought. You’ve just gotta pick your wife carefully. Be upfront, honest. Don’t make her think it’s going to be a fairy tale.”

  Malek nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  After Drako parked the van and locked it up, the brothers each got into their cars and gave each other a parting wave. From the direction Malek had driven, Drako assumed Malek was headed to his favorite dungeon, a twenty-minute drive north from there. He opted for another one, a fifteen-minute drive west, and closer to home.

  He didn’t lease a private suite at Black Orchid. He’d have to scene in the main dungeon, but that didn’t bother him. He’d done that plenty, and tonight he wasn’t in the mood for intimacy anyway. Submissives weren’t generally jealous or possessive, at least not his regulars, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t drama occasionally.

  If he wasn’t in the mood for intimacy, he was in even less of a mood for drama.

  Maybe he’d find a new submissive, a stranger who knew nothing about him and had absolutely no expectations outside of one scene and a little aftercare.

  By the time he’d pulled up to Black Orchid’s valet entry, his mind was made up. He’d find a submissive who knew her limits—not a newbie—but wanted to test them.

  It took him almost an hour to find her.

  He’d noticed her right away, the minute he’d stepped into the dungeon. But he didn’t approach her right away. Physically, she was the exact opposite of his wife. Rin was petite and delicate, with midnight hair that flashed blue in certain light. And her eyes were a deep brown, warm and comforting. The submissive’s hair was a cool blond shade and her eyes gray. She was tall with heavy breasts and full hips and long legs.

  He knew she’d seen him too. Their gazes met as he’d strolled past her, heading toward the rear of the open space where a scene that intrigued him was playing out. He paused for a moment, and something interesting passed between them. Her lips, painted a brilliant red that would have looked gaudy on most women, curled into a shy smile.

  Very good. Not too timid, and not too pushy.

  The scene he’d wanted to watch was growing more intense. A domme was flogging her male submissive, legs and arms bound to a free-standing Saint Andrew’s Cross. From his breathing, visible to Drako’s eye, trembling and taut muscles, Drako sensed the male submissive was close to breaking. It was a powerful moment, one Drako loved to witness, when he wasn’t bus
y with a submissive of his own.

  The blonde would wait for him. He was sure of it.

  He went around to the back of the cross so he could see the male submissive’s face. The man’s expression, as the domme’s leather whip struck him again, was one of absolute ecstasy.

  Drako couldn’t budge, he was so fascinated by the submissive’s response. To surrender everything like that, to let it all go, it had to be wonderful, beyond his full understanding.

  Drako didn’t move from that place. He didn’t look away, didn’t think about anything or anyone until the final stroke of the lash. Only then could he pull himself away to go look for the blonde with the cool gray eyes.

  She’d moved while he’d been watching that scene, but she hadn’t gone far. In fact, she’d stayed where he could see her, and she could see him. He guessed she’d been studying him the whole time he’d been watching the scene. That pleased him.

  So did the barely perceptible tip of her head she gave him when their eyes met again.

  She was wearing a short dress that showed off her legs. The material, soft rose, almost but not quite transparent, moved as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other. The garment’s movement drew his eyes to her pelvis. She was wearing underwear. Black, he guessed, from the deep shadow there.

  She curled her fingers around the hem and lifted it a couple of inches. Not all the way. Just high enough for him to get a glance at the vee of black lace covering her mound.

  This woman knew what power she wielded, and she used it well.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the type of submissive he was in the frame of mind to deal with tonight. He didn’t want a battle over power. He wanted a submissive—male or female, gender made little difference when sex wasn’t involved—who would eagerly serve him.

  A little less enthusiastic than he had been a few moments earlier, he went to her, caged her head between his outstretched arms.

  “Hello,” she said, that temptress smile in place.

  He inhaled her scent. It was nice, but he didn’t care for citrusy perfumes, like the one she wore. He much preferred jasmine. “Are you really a submissive, or do you just like to pretend to be one?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Her smile didn’t waver. Nor did her gaze. She licked her lips. “Are you really a dom or do you just pretend to be one?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think if you’re dominant, I’ll be submissive. But if you’re not . . .” She shrugged, letting the rest of her sentence trail off.

  Didn’t matter. He knew what she meant. There were the doms and dommes who played the role and then there were the ones who were dominant to their core. In their marrow. The latter were the ones a submissive could truly trust. Especially a submissive like this.

  He was standing so close to this attractive woman he could practically taste her scent on the air. She was saying all the right things. Normally, he’d be charged up to take her to the edge of her limits.

  But not tonight. He just wasn’t feeling it. And even though it shouldn’t, it pissed him off.

  Muttering, “Maybe another time,” he turned around and headed for the door. There wasn’t any reason for him to be here. It wasn’t happening.

  He tried not to think about the reason why his blood remained cold as he stopped at the valet’s station to get his car.

  13

  It was nine o’clock at night, and Rin had a good idea where her husband was. She knew she had no right to be upset. He’d made it clear he would be going to the dungeon after they were married. He wouldn’t be giving up D/s. He’d also told her he wouldn’t have sex with his partners.

  Still, there was this awful feeling, a churning sensation, in her gut.

  Why couldn’t he give it up? And if it truly was impossible, why couldn’t he do those things with her? Didn’t other people in D/s play with their wives and husbands?

  Maybe if she understood it all better, maybe if she went to one of those places and saw what happened there, she wouldn’t feel so icky inside. Then again, maybe she’d feel worse.

  It’s worth the risk.

  Sitting on her bed, in comfy sweats and a tank top, she powered up her cell phone and dialed an old acquaintance’s phone number. Andi had hooked up with Drako that first night, when they’d met him at the bar. Rin hadn’t talked to her since. It was going to be awkward. Rin couldn’t stop imagining the two of them together, Drako touching Andi, kissing her, fucking her. Unfortunately, Andi was the only person she knew that was into D/s, and Rin was motivated enough to shove aside her discomfort to go to her.

  Andi answered on the third ring. “Hey, girl, where have you been? I haven’t seen you at the club, at work. I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”

  “Some things have happened lately.” Rin looked down, at the copy of Emma, sitting on her pillow and smiled. “A lot has changed.”

  “Oooh, sounds juicy. Tell me everything.”

  She felt her face paling. “I think I’d rather give you the Reader’s Digest version.”

  Andi’s exaggerated sigh was plenty loud enough to hear, even over the semicrappy connection. “I guess that’s better than nothing.”

  “I’m married.” Like she found herself doing a lot, she toyed with her ring.

  “What? Married? When? Who? Why didn’t you ask me to be your maid of honor?”

  Maid of honor. Andi? Wouldn’t that have been awkward. “We sort of . . . eloped. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  “Ohmygosh, I would have never pegged you for the eloping type. You’re so . . . what’s the word? Traditional. Where’d you go? Vegas?”

  “Toledo.”

  “Not my first choice, but hey, if you’re happy, who am I to judge? Do I know Mr. Right?”

  “Yes. Um, you do.” A lump the size of her bed congealed in her throat.

  “Who is it?”

  She swallowed hard. Once, twice, three times. “Drako Alexandre.”

  “No kidding? You and Drako? Holy shit! I had no idea. Well, actually, I could tell he was into you at the bar. But I kinda figured he was a little too much man for you, if you know what I mean. I mean . . .”

  “This is awkward, I know. But he was single then. He could do whatever he wanted.”

  “Sure.”

  There was a long stretch of silence. Rin squeezed her pillow tighter. Was this worth it? Really? Wasn’t there another way to find out about bondage? Couldn’t she go by herself? Or maybe try to convince Drako to take her?

  “Rin, I hate to tell you this, but you’re my friend. . . . He’s still coming to the dungeon.”

  “I know.”

  More silence.

  “What made you decide to marry Drako Alexandre?” Andi sounded genuinely bewildered.

  “I have my reasons. But don’t feel bad for me, Andi. When I married him, I knew about the D/s, and I was okay with it. We talked about it.”

  “But . . . ?”

  “I just want to understand that side of him. He knows I’m not into it, so he doesn’t want to force me.”

  “Ah, I see. Rin, he’s compartmentalizing his life, for your benefit. If it makes you feel any better, a lot of people do that, you know. They don’t necessarily want or need D/s in their marriage, so they’ll scene with partners outside of their relationships.”

  “Yes, I figured as much.” Rin stood, walked to the window. She opened it and peered out, into the deepening shadows. Here and there, fireflies twinkled. And the song of a bird floated on a sweet-scented breeze. “I still want to understand it.”

  “Do you know exactly what he does at the dungeon?”

  “No. I haven’t a clue. But he did tell me there would be no sex involved.” Rin went back to the bed, plopped on her butt. “I’d like to go with you to a dungeon. I want to see what happens.”

  “Are you sure about this? It may be hard for you.”

  Rin nodded, even though Andi couldn’t see her. “I’m sure.” She waited. One, two, three . .
. ten seconds. “Andi?”

  “All right. I’ll take you to a play party. You’ll see what goes on. And no, I won’t take you somewhere your husband will be. I’m not that cold-hearted.”

  “Thank you.” Rin felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized it had been there. She pulled in a slow, deep breath, let it out.

  “I’d say you’re welcome, Rin, if I felt I was doing you a favor. But I don’t know. I may regret this.” She already sounded like she was, but Rin wasn’t going to point that out to her.

  “Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

  “Fine. Tomorrow night. Be here at eight. If you have doubts, even the slightest, don’t do it.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  She laid back, closed her eyes, and tried to imagine what a bondage dungeon might look like. Dimly lit. Screams and the snap of a whip echoing off the walls. Nude men and women bound in all kinds of positions, gagged. They were disturbing images. She hoped reality wouldn’t be as bad as that.

  Deciding she needed to do something else, other than make herself crazy, she checked on Lei. Sleeping. She headed down to the den and turned on the TV. Nothing worth watching. She pressed an ear to the door to Drako’s home office. Not a sound. She went to the library, helped herself to a wine cooler she found in the bar’s minifridge, then after taking a swig or two, found a mystery novel that looked interesting and headed back up to her room.

  With the help of a little alcohol coursing through her veins, she was able to turn off her brain and enjoy the book. One hour passed. Two. Her eyelids were heavy and her vision blurry.

  Drako still wasn’t home. Where was he?

  She set the book on the nightstand on top of Emma, turned off the light, and settled in, hoping if she dozed off, she’d wake when Drako came home.

  She didn’t.

  Either she didn’t hear him come in or Drako didn’t come home at all. She peeked into his room the next morning. His bed was made. She headed down to the kitchen. No Drako. She checked his home office. Not there either.