Demon Dreamer: A Captive Souls story

by Vivi Anna

  “Well, for one, ya need some clothes, and for another, I feel like…I don’t know, that something’s missing. That I’m not finished what I’m supposed to do.”

  She led him into the living area, a room she’d previously ignored. But something told her she needed to enter. When she did, she gasped in surprise.

  There were other people in the room, four other people. Two women and two men, well, one man and one creature, a gargoyle she surmised by the expanse of his dark leathery wings thrust out behind him.

  But it was the two women who drew her attention. She’d seen them before, in Malvo’s viewing wall. Her sisters.

  The six of them stood staring at each other, each pair occupying part of the room. Malvo tensed beside her. This was the first time in over one hundred years that the men had been near each other in the same dimension, in the same room even. She could feel the animosity rising with every second. She imagined it was taking tremendous amounts of restraint for the men not to rush onto one another and rip the others apart. Kiara suspected that each of the women had something to do with that restraint.

  The man to the right, Bacclum, who she remembered from her first dream, seemed to grow in size. His body tensed, his muscles flexed. She knew he was powerful. She’d seem him fight with Malvo. Her sister, with the beautiful dark skin, wearing sunglasses to hide her eyes, set her hand on his arm. It was a warning, Kiara knew.

  The massively built gargoyle opposite him scowled and flared his strong wings. A gust of wind whipped over Kiara and Malvo. She imagined he could do a lot of damage with just one of those powerful appendages. Her tall, golden-haired sister stood beside him, lightly stroking her fingers up and down the edge of one wing. It looked like she was petting him. To appease him possibly, to keep him tame?

  They stood like that, the six of them, gauging the situation for what seemed like an eternity. Until one of them broke the strained truce.

  Her dark-haired sister took off her sunglasses and tossed them to the ground. Slowly, a smile spread across her face as she looked at first Kiara then the other woman. The smile was genuine, warm and inviting. Kiara could feel something inside her melt—the hardened crust around her heart maybe, or the sense that she was completely alone. Looking at both her sisters, both with the same gift as she, she thought maybe she wasn’t alone at all.

  “I am Dominique.” The dark-haired woman took a step forward.

  Bacclum pushed in front of her, as if to block her from moving forward, as if to keep her safe from the rest of them. Dominique placed a slim hand on his cheek. His gaze went to hers and Kiara watched as he seemed to relax. His shoulders sagged a little and he stepped to the side to allow her to continue.

  She moved into the middle of the room, her hands out to the sides, reaching for Kiara and her other sister.

  “I am Petra.” The blonde woman stepped forward. But her gargoyle guardian moved as well, wrapping his leathery wings around her like a cocoon. A safe and secure cocoon.

  Smiling, Petra set her hand over his arm, sweeping her thumb over his skin. It was enough of a message for him to back off. He dropped his shield and took a distancing step back. Petra moved forward and clasped Dominique’s hand in hers. They both looked at Kiara.

  Kiara hesitated. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Here were two women, her sisters, offering her something. A chance to be a part of a family. A chance to belong with others like her, with the same gifts and curses lain inside them. She wanted that connection. She’d always longed for a chance to belong.

  She glanced at Malvo. He gave her one of his rare beguiling half-smiles, then set a hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward. Surprise must’ve registered on her face, because her sisters laughed.

  That brought a smile to Kiara’s face and she stepped forward, her chin up, pride swelling inside her. “I am Kiara.” And with that she set her hands into her sisters.

  The second their flesh touched a wave of power cascaded out from their joined hands and swept the room, causing the paintings on the wall to fall, the furnishings to shake, and the windows to rattle. This brought bigger and brighter smiles to the three women’s faces.

  It was the start of something great. Something powerful, filled with magic and possibilities. And Kiara found she couldn’t be happier, here, with her sisters at the beginning of it all.

  About the Author

  Frequently on Recommended Reading lists, Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Winner and Canadian author Vivi Anna likes to burn up the pages with her unique brand of fantasy fiction. Whether it's in the Amazon jungle, an apocalyptic future, or the otherworld city of Necropolis, Vivi always writes fast-paced action-adventure with strong independent women that can kick some butt, and dark delicious heroes to kill for. You can visit her at www.vivianna.net for excerpts of all her work.

  Look for these titles by Vivi Anna

  Now Available:

  Of the Moon

  Love is the most dangerous enchantment…

  Dominique’s Release

  © 2009 Kimberly Kaye Terry

  Captive Souls, Book 1

  All her life Dominique Fouche has chafed under her coven’s “protection”. It’s time she found out why she has never been allowed to explore the darker side of her nature. She ventures forth to get answers from the father she has never known, only to learn he is dead and she’s the new owner of his mansion.

  The house is as mysterious as her past, where just opening an ancient book releases the pent-up fury and lust of a handsome, larger-than-life creature. Her strange new lover leaves her weak, satiated—and deathly afraid.

  Bacclum, a mixed-blood angel, will not allow a mere witch stop him from finding his family and claiming his rightful heritage. Even if it means using every means at his disposal to siphon off Dominique’s power. Yet once deep inside her sinfully sweet body, he finds himself bound by a magic far stronger than any spell.

  There’s a reason her blood calls out to his—and it’s made her an unwitting target of the same deadly forces bent on denying Bacclum his birthright…

  Warning: Contains angel lovin’ hot enough to send you to confession for a month of Sundays—even if you’re not Catholic.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Dominique’s Release:

  A long-legged, lushly naked woman was straddling Bacclum’s body.

  Coming to a hazy semi-awareness, he pushed the hair from his eyes and raised his upper torso, glancing down. The ends of the woman’s long, curly hair were wrapped like silken fingers around his hips, embracing him, caressing his skin, as surely as her soft lips caressed his erect shaft.

  Her warm breath blew across his aroused flesh, and her lips, warm, wet and soft, suckled the underside of his cock. Her slick tongue stroked around the base of his shaft and she licked the thick vein that ran the length of his shaft from stem to root.

  “Who…what are you?” He could only rasp the words. What she was doing to him, the short flicks of her tongue up and down his cock, made all rational thought fly from his already foggy mind.

  She didn’t say a word, simply continued to lick and caress him, her head slowly bobbing up and down his shaft in hot, wicked undulations.

  He felt his dick grow and knew it would grow too big for her mouth if she continued to torment him as she was. Bacclum shut his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw until it ached.

  One part of his mind nagged at him the closer he came to orgasm. A buzzing, insistent nagging that he was hell bent on ignoring.

  It had been too long since he’d felt a woman’s caress…too long since…

  He groaned, exhaled a harsh breath, and grasped both sides of her head.

  His intent, despite the exquisite feel of her warm silken mouth on his dick, was to push her away. It took a moment for his mind to orient, for him to understand that something or someone had pulled him out of the book. And that someone was the one between his legs suckling his cock.

  His eyes shot wide open. “Fuck!” The expletive was
ripped from him.

  The last time it happened he hadn’t been ready, hadn’t known what was going on, but this time he was ready for it. He reached down, grasped her shoulders and yanked her to him, forcing her head to snap back, ready to force her to help him out of the book. He stopped cold after one look at her.

  Sexual energy vibrated from her, hallowing her body in a sensual glow of power that was tangible. Stimulating, electrifying…she was earthy, raw, woman.

  Her dark hair, lush with wild curls, tumbled to her shoulders and beyond, partially obscuring her face. He reached a hand out and pushed her hair away from her face. She turned her head to the side as he observed her, transfixed. To say she was beautiful was too mild of a way to describe her.

  Her complexion was the color of deep honey, her skin appeared soft, silky…he ran the tips of his fingers down the side of her face.

  “So smooth,” he whispered.

  She drew back as though startled, her hair moving away from her face, her eyes widening as she focused on him.

  And that’s when he noticed her eyes. Large, they were slanted mildly in the corners, with dark, dense lashes that framed them, and so unlike any he’d ever seen throughout his long life, he inhaled a swift, disbelieving breath.

  The iris of one was the color of liquid amber, dark brown with a tiny dark ring surrounding the pupil. The other was the same colored iris, but the matching dark ring surrounded a horizontal pupil, like that of a goat.

  When she reached a hand out to touch him, he flinched.

  “The eye of the demon,” he said, unknowingly aloud.

  Her expression shut down, instantly. Her earthy vibrancy seemed to dim, her body literally closed in on itself and she glanced away from him. But not before he caught the shine of unshed tears in her eyes.

  She sprang away and he put a hand on her arm, pulling her back to him.

  “No! Don’t leave. I didn’t mean…” He stopped. He didn’t know why he was trying to explain, or even what he was trying to explain. He only knew he didn’t want her to think he was rejecting her.

  The temporary spell holding them mesmerized vanished and with it, she pushed away from him, her strength surprising him, even as he lurched forward to grasp onto her.

  His hand closed around some type of medal suspended from around her neck, the medal searing his flesh. The unexpected pain made him snatch his hand away.

  She stood and glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes glistening. Before he could reach for her, her form began to shimmer, becoming nearly invisible.

  Bacclum fought against what he knew was coming next.

  He could feel it. Sweat poured from his body, dormant muscles screaming in agony as he concentrated all his will on just staying awake…aware.

  “Not this time,” he rasped.

  The first time it had happened, when he’d been drawn from that damnable book, he’d come close to getting out. He hadn’t known what or who had been the source of power that brought him to awareness, but in the end it hadn’t been enough.

  This time was different. He could feel it. This time he would fight like hell to stay aware.

  Before the woman could completely disappear, his jaw locked and he concentrated all of his considerable power into his hands.

  She gasped.

  “What are you doing?”

  He lurched forward with his last strength, grasped her around the waist, his hold on her unflinching, strong.

  “Say the words.”

  She struggled to pry him loose. “Wha…what words?” she gasped. “What are you talking about?”

  “Say the words, damn it!” Sweat poured from him, the amount of energy he was exerting was almost more than his body could take, caught between two worlds, not quite in the world of the book or the outer world. They were somewhere in-between, somewhere the witch had brought him.

  He didn’t know who she was, didn’t know if she knew where she was, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to hold on to her until she pulled him completely out.

  “Pe’, te ou, caw et me, pe’ te ou, caw et me… Say it!” he demanded, struggling to focus his waning power on maintaining his hold on her.

  Even as she struggled with him, he felt the power radiating from her body in hot waves, and the halo of power shrouding her fading form, vibrating, through the sweat obscuring his vision.

  “Please…” He closed his eyes and concentrated. With his mind reaching out to her through their physical connection, Bacclum felt strength flood his body, a renewed energy shoot through his veins.

  Pictures flowed in and out of his mind, in a kaleidoscope of images all surrounding Dominique.

  He saw her in his mind. Her life, who she was, what she was…her differences from those she called sister, the pain that her difference had caused her throughout her life.

  As a child at first, often playing alone, he saw her with her thin long arms wrapped around her equally skinny long legs, hugging herself as tears fell from her eyes after being mocked. As a young teen lying on her narrow twin bed, the images assailed him of her, absorbed in reading a book, alone. The images changed, shifted, and then he saw her as a young woman who, although she no longer showed the world her pain, it was still lodged deep in her chest, like a sharp arrow.

  Always hovering in the background was an older woman, one who Bacclum recognized as her mother, diligently watching the young girl as she matured into womanhood.

  One image bled to another, but more than the images were the emotions… Bacclum inhaled deeply, anger flooding him at the sheer isolation she felt, had felt, throughout her life of being different, her cries at night as a child growing up, being taunted for being different…always isolated, alone, even with her mother, he felt a sense of detachment—separateness, surrounding her.

  Just as suddenly as it started, it ended. The exchange, although he had seen her entire life, had been fleeting and had taken no more than minutes. Yet it took a tremendous toll on him, the last of his remaining strength fleeing.

  Bacclum opened his eyes and their gazes locked. He knew that just as he’d seen her life, who she was, she had also seen him during their exchange. Within the depths of her unique eyes, he saw the truth. No words were necessary, in fact none could really do justice to what he’d seen…what they’d both learned, about the other.

  It was as complete as it was devastating.

  Invasive, yet intimate.

  A moment of understanding swept between them, despite questions he knew she must have, confusion…her spirit had reached out to him during the exchange and they’d connected on levels he’d never imagined possible.

  She broke their visual connection. Too weak to stop her, he watched as she stumbled away, breaking free of him.

  Once free, she clasped the glowing amulet resting between her breasts with both hands. Despite the fear, he also saw a gleam of strength blaze brightly in her eyes.

  With her eyes on his she gripped the amulet tighter, and began chanting. She was speaking in no more than a loud whisper, yet he felt her words seek him out, right to the heart of him, and strike. The pain was as sudden as it was unexpected.

  Bacclum felt his remaining physical strength completely dissipate and his mind, which had been sharp and clear, moments earlier, again became cloudy and disorienting.

  “No!” he cried out.

  Before she could completely vanish, and with her he knew his key to escape the hell he’d been bound to for a century or more, she glanced at him one last time.

  “Come back for me, Dominique.”

  Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

  Stone’s Embrace

  © 2009 Delilah Devlin

  Captive Souls, Book 2

  Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and, passed down from the father she will never know, a shameful power. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

  Exploring the garden of the mansion
she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

  Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

  They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

  Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods…it’s all good when the reward is freedom.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Stone’s Embrace:

  The shock reflected in the woman’s blue gaze couldn’t have been any greater than his own. From one moment to the next it seemed, Octavius had felt his heart petrify, his mind freeze in horror—and then, he’d awoken, his wounds healed, and wrapped in silken heat.

  He wasn’t sure what it meant; only that he couldn’t let her go. Would he return to stone without her touch? He glanced up at the darkened house. No light shone in the window he’d exited. Moonlight glinted on replaced panes of glass. Around him, the pristine garden had given way to neglect. He’d slept a long, long time it seemed.

  Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, pinching him. Her back bowed, then her hips bucked, almost dislodging him, but he couldn’t let that happen.

  With his wings wrapped tightly around her, he fell to the ground, cushioning her against the crash, and rocked his hips to sustain the orgasm that rippled all along his shaft.

  Her cunt caressed his whole length, flushed it in liquid heat. He growled and pressed deeper, rutting, his knees digging into soft grass to gain leverage and continue stroking.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered brokenly, her head thrashing. “This can’t be happening.”