A Captured Spirit

by Dakota Black

  She met every hard thrust, pushing back, no longer able to feel her legs. The plunges were powerful, intense and she was lost in the rapture.

  He continued for several minutes as beads of sweat cascaded down from his face and neck, sliding onto her back. “I’m going to… fill you.”

  And she wanted nothing more. When his body tensed, the strangled sounds almost inaudible, she closed her eyes.

  “Yes!”

  As hot cum filled her asshole, the moment refueled her very soul. Gone was the terrified woman of the past. This was exactly where she needed to be.

  Zach opened his eyes and tensed the moment he did. Blinking, he had difficulty adjusting to the darkness. He realized the single stream of light was from the moon sliding in past the vinyl blinds. When he was finally able to focus he shifted, becoming aware he was naked and lying in bed. But not his bed. Turning his head, he could see her long hair splayed out across the pillow and the downturned sheet. Both nights had been so incredible.

  Exhaling, he allowed the breath to slide out in ragged pants. Then again, what in the hell had he done? He wiped his face and allowed his mind to wander. The night had been amazing, the connection unlike any he’d ever experienced, but there was more to this, a sickening feeling, a wave of knowledge. A hint of apprehension settled into his system, a knowing that kept him on edge.

  The tether between them was more spiritual than electric. He could sense her thoughts and she innately understood his. They’d experienced some of the same sensations, visions and the strong bond between them was increasing with every touch. Every kiss. He could feel the cracked door to the spirit world opening wider. Soon, he’d have no choice.

  The domination was something else entirely. He was unable to wrap his mind around why they’d been pushed together, as if by some unknown force. He remembered her words, demonic souls breaching the surface of the unwise opening. Spirits. He’d left most of his ancestry when he moved away, coming to a new state so many years ago.

  He’d only been back to face his past once and that had been a disaster. Biting back a groan, he turned on his side, watching her sleep. Taking the tip of his middle finger, he brushed down the length of her arm, smiling when she moaned. Dear God, he wanted her. No, he wanted to own her.

  His cock stirred, his balls aching to the point he almost rolled her over, lifted her legs and thrust his dick deep inside. Fisting his mouth, he pulled back the sheet and climbed off the bed. He was neither a coward or an asshole, or maybe he was, in truth, both. However, he would stay until she awakened. But he would tell her.

  This could never happen again.

  The why didn’t matter. They were not only working together, but the draw was too intense, dragging him back into a pit of Hell he’d refused to remain a part of. She wouldn’t understand. Then again, neither did he. There was no happiness in his destiny, no sweetness of shared intimacy. He was a brutal beast, feeding off women.

  The thought left a disgusting taste in his mouth as he walked through the shadows and into her kitchen. The moment he walked inside, he was gripped with a rush of raw terror, enough so his heart raced, thumping against his chest.

  A flash of images, all in black and white, flew through his periphery of vision. He fell against the counter, gripping the edge, as the faces rushed by. Men. Women. Land. There was nothing distinguishable, but he knew them. Something deep inside, his gut instinct filled his mind with the knowledge. The visions moved faster, now little more than a blur.

  He could no longer breathe, his throat constricted, his blood pressure increased to the point he knew he was having a stroke. He slapped his hand against his chest, gulping for air as his legs slid out from under him. Please. Stop. No more.

  Noises created echoes, simple cries to anguished moans. He slapped his hands over his ears and crumpled over, rocking back and forth. This was maddening. What were they saying? What were they screaming? Blinking, he could see nothing but blackness, a pool swirling, sucking him down. No. No!

  Suddenly, everything was quiet. There were no whispers of ghosts, no screaming for his help. Only silence. The pictures began to fade, one by one rolling away until there was nothing but a blip of color, stars given the intense pounding in his head.

  Jerking his head up, he sucked in air as he clenched his fists, pounding his legs. What in the hell had just happened?

  When his breathing was normal, he wiped his mouth and struggled to stand. He continued to shake but he was back in control. Managing to turn around, he jerked the handle on the faucet and held his head down, gulping water.

  The quiet hum of the refrigerator allowed him to pull himself back, away from the creatures. He flushed his face, wiping the remnants on his arm. This wasn’t going to happen. Not again. Not now.

  Zach stood with his back to the counter, now staring out the same window that he’d fucked her in front of. Fuck. He wasn’t even certain the event had occurred. He was going insane.

  When he felt stronger, he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and moved back toward the bedroom. A single sound drew his attention. While indistinguishable, he was certain he was required to follow. He was no longer afraid, only curious. When he reached the end of the other hallway, he stood in front of an open door. The various shadows inside were intriguing. This wasn’t a bedroom or an office.

  This was intruding. Her space. This was her private space. He didn’t need instinct to tell him. He caught a whiff of her perfume, the scent filling his nostrils, creating another wave of desire. Hesitating, he retreated then realized what was located inside he needed to see.

  No, he’d been instructed to locate by some unseen force.

  Every muscle in his body was tingling as he crossed back over the threshold. He breathed in, allowing her scent to permeate his skin, his inner soul. Her aura was strong, captivating and he gathered a sense of her spirit, one from a powerful Indian.

  Zach found the light and the moment the warm glow highlighted the interior, he swallowed back a crushing amount of bile. Paintings. Almost every corner, every wall was covering in vivid paintings, the strokes powerful and intense, bold visions of the woman’s inner thoughts as well as her desires.

  He was mesmerized, pulled into the moment but they seemed like secrets, a telling of stories. Various men and woman were depicted, from young to old, in various states of emotions. They were so beautiful, captivating and every painting drew you in, taking you on the adventure or the experience of ravaging sadness.

  His breathing was rapid as he walked around several that were carefully placed on easels and could almost reach out and touch their faces. They were so alive, full of life, even in bouts of anger and despair. Reaching out, he hovered his finger over the profile of a woman and could swear he knew her, but from where?

  They know you. They fear you…

  The words, the sentiment swirled in his mind. He breathed out and shook his head, about to leave when an oversized painting in the corner drew his attention. Some sort of covering allowed a small corner to show, a blotch of scarlet paint dragged across the section as if done in anger.

  Or terror.

  He moved closer, darting a single look over his shoulder before advancing. He reached out, groaning, given his hand was shaking, then wrapped his fingers around the edge of the covering. A slight pull freed the painting. He had to blink several times to understand what he was seeing.

  His face.

  His enraged and disgusting face. Almost unrecognizable but he knew.

  His raised arm.

  The bloody knife.

  Scuttling backwards, he turned just as Cassandra came into the room, her lower lip quivering.

  She said nothing as she darted her gaze toward the picture then looked down. “Whatever is happening between us is meant to be. You were right.”

  Zach was unsure of what to say or how to process the information. She looked so fragile in her short robe and bare feet, but she also held an air of understanding, a strong conviction. He wa
nted her. He needed her. And she needed him. Closing the distance, he lifted her chin with a single finger and lowered his head, capturing her mouth.

  She stiffened at first then threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in, accepting the heated moment of passion.

  When he let her go he closed his eyes then kissed her forehead, his whisper full of such sadness, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’ve made me feel alive again.”

  His heart clenched, the realization piercing him, cutting him into. “You don’t understand. I have to leave.”

  “Why? Tell me why.”

  Zach took a purposeful step around her, stopping just inside the doorway. “Because if I don’t, I will kill you.”

  Chapter 6

  “You didn’t need to come with me to the meeting,” Cassandra insisted as she white knuckled the folder she was holding. Her head was pounding, her heart racing. She wanted to talk with Zach, to find out what the hell was going on. Why didn’t he explain? Why had he just left? She’d been forced to call Rebecca for a lift back to her car. She had no doubt her friend would grill her later. He was terrified he’d hurt her or worse. Why? She continued to think about the painting. She had no idea what it meant, but she was determined to find out.

  “I’m not trying to supervise your work, but given the report on the news yesterday and the crap that is on the front page of the local newspaper, I thought you might like some support.” Diego shot her a look as he maneuvered the car around a turn.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Myers, as you so aptly made certain you made me aware of, I am part Indian. Apache Indian to be exact. I believe I may be able to handle their oppositions in a much more understanding manner than you can.”

  Snorting, he made a wide turn onto a gravel driveway. “Point taken, Cassandra. As I requested, please call me Diego. Whether you like it or not, we are going to be spending some quality time together. This account is important to me.”

  She tipped her head, studying his profile and the odd expression on his face. Whatever had changed in one night, had pushed the man’s back against the wall. But why? “If the sale doesn’t go through, there’s no building to design.”

  “I’m certain there won’t be any issues, especially since you’re an expert in talking with Tribal Chiefs.”

  While she hadn’t expected the sarcasm, or the company for that matter, she refused to allow the man to get under her skin. She was still reeling from the night before, almost unable to sit with any level of comfort given the hard spanking. She closed her eyes, seeing Zach’s haunted face, and the way he reacted to the painting had been so… Tragic. Just like the picture itself.

  He’d left moments after his exclamation, but she’d seen the look of utter terror in his eyes. She had to push away the damning event and concentrate on her job.

  “We’re here, Cassandra. I see all the players are already waiting.” Diego didn’t wait for her to exit the car.

  Breathing out, she clenched her fist as she eyed the group of all men. While there were no Indian leaders, she suspected they would arrive. The moment she climbed out of the car, Zach looked in her direction. While his eyes were covered with dark sunglasses, she didn’t need to see them. He’d walled himself up, refusing to accept who they were. Or perhaps who they should be.

  Smoothing down her skirt, she grabbed her notes and walked closer. “Gentlemen.”

  “Cassandra. Zach and I are glad you could come and take a look.” Mitchell’s smile was genuine.

  “My boss, Diego Myers,” she offered, nodding in Diego’s direction.

  “Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” Diego smiled, acknowledging the others.

  Zach tipped his head but otherwise, remained quiet.

  The aura, the electricity between them was as magnetic as the night before and she held her breath as she attempted to push away the dazzling sensations.

  “Well, little lady. I’m Marcus Billings and this is our Vice President, Kage Thomas. That’s Kage with a ‘K’, although I know the man’s kinky tastes.” The burly man laughed as he shook her hand.

  “What happened to Jeff Parker?” Mitchell asked as he lifted his sunglasses, giving Kage a onceover.

  “He’s been real busy with other items in the company. Kage here came all the way in from our Phoenix office to take over this here project,” Marcus stated.

  Kage nodded, a wry smile on his face. “Glad I could help.” He glanced up and down Cassandra, concentrating on her shoes before extending his hand. “New to this game?” The question was pointed.

  “Not at all. I know exactly what I’m doing.” The moment she shook his hand, she shivered. The way he was leering at her seemed far more than because of any sexual desire. She held the grip, digging her fingers into his skin as she tried to read him, but the moment was gone.

  “That’s good to know,” Kage said as he leaned forward, allowing her to see his eyes.

  When she let go of his hand, she offered a curt smile then surveyed the land.

  “Now, I know what shit the press is saying, but I can assure you, Mr. Rush, that we own this land fair and square.” Marcus directed his full attention to Mitchell.

  “That might not matter if a portion is on burial land,” she offered as she walked away from the group.

  “Money talks,” Kage stated, the words followed by a condescending laugh.

  “You don’t want to cross the Apache nation, Mr. Thomas. The bad press will eat you alive,” Zach said with zero inflection in his voice.

  “He’s right. You’ll have to work with them,” she offered then continued walking. A disconcerting feeling remained pitted in her stomach, a gnawing that something was very off.

  “And how do we do that, little lady? Offer the big cheese some ceremonial package? By all rights, we own this land and we want to sell it.”

  “I’m certain you do since every day you keep it means you lose thousands of dollars.” Zach’s words seemed to echo in the light breeze.

  Cassandra turned, watching Zach and could tell Mitchell was surprised.

  Marcus kicked his large boot into the dirt. When his eyes flashed, there was vile anger, a venomous look that was more of a warning. “I see you’ve done your homework.”

  “I always do,” Zach answered.

  “What are we talking about here?” Mitchell asked.

  “Seems that New Horizons made the kind of loan that puts them in a real bind. Buying out of the loan costs them more every day. Also, given the concerns highlighted from the Apache nation, the value of the land has certainly decreased. If Rush Enterprises continues to consider this purchase, the contract will be altered, the terms at a much lower rate.”

  Cassandra shook her head, biting her tongue. Zach was damn good at his job. When the group remained quiet, she walked toward them. “You need to find out if there is any truth to the concept of burial ground. If there is, you can try and offer to move the sacred dirt to a new location, but quite frankly, I doubt the Tribal Council will be interested in the offer.”

  Exhaling, finally Marcus cleared his throat and extended the question. “Why is that?”

  “The land is considered damned,” Zach stated.

  Again, the words seemed to linger as Kage and Marcus shot Diego a look before turning toward Zach. Kage grinned as he moved closer. “Are you telling us that you want to back out of the deal?”

  “Not at all. I’m telling you that you have some problems to deal with. I suggest you work with Ms. Jeffries given her understanding of Apache culture. She might be able to resolve the issue. I’ll prepare a new contract.” Zach gave a nod of respect to Cassandra.

  “In the meantime, we would like to see some preliminary sketches for our proposed building. Whether we build on this land or somewhere else, we are going to proceed,” Mitchell told her.

  The tension in the air was palpable.

  “She’ll begin work immediately,” Diego answered for her.

  Cassandra held her tongu
e, unable to take her eyes off Zach as he pulled out his phone. A mere second later he lifted his sunglasses. Unable to mask his expression, he turned away, the phone still in his hand. But she’d seen the look. He was horrified.

  “Do you want to explain what in the hell happened back there?” Mitchell demanded as soon as they were in the car.

  “I found out why they’re so eager to sell. Puts us in a much better position,” Zach answered but he wasn’t even certain as to what he’d said. His mind remained reeling from the picture texted to him. The photograph had been taken from inside the café when he and Cassandra were having drinks. Which meant, and there was no way around this, that she was being threatened as well.

  “Uh-huh. That’s my attorney talking. What about the rest? You acted as if Cassandra was the last person you wanted to talk to. Then you spaced out or I should say I thought you were going to freak out. What. Is. Going. On?”

  “None of your damn concern,” he hissed and looked out the passenger window. Who was threatening him? There was no way of telling.

  Mitchell groaned. “I’m your friend here too or did you forget about that? You’re not yourself and haven’t been for some time. Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

  He hadn’t realized the gruff snort left his mouth at first. “Look, you can’t help me. No one can.”

  “What have you gotten yourself into, buddy?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I know you too well. Remember? Is there some issue you haven’t told me? The way you reacted to that girl being killed, you know, the one on the news report was personal. As if you knew her. I read in the paper this morning that she worked for some kink club. Her second job.”

  Zach held his breath and eased his phone from his pocket. “Mitchell. Let it go.” He could tell his friend wanted to retort but hissed under his breath and continued driving. He held the phone so only he could see and slid his finger across, opening the message. The word was there.

  Remember…

  The poor girl was killed as a warning. A damn warning.