by Simone Sinna
She emailed her boss to say there was a family emergency and rang Mac and her father to tell them which flight she was on. Mac sounded much his usual self.
“Wait until you meet Gabriella,” he said. “You’ll love her as much as Mitch and I do.”
“She’s a ghost?” Misty asked skeptically.
“A quarter. But Lena’s three-quarter and their grandmother is full-blood and quite a character.”
Misty tried to process this. “So, not all the ghosts tried to wipe us out?”
“No, even Zachary, who led the vigilantes, saved Lena and Gabriella, knowing they were with us. And Lena’s mother gave her blood that is half were-devil. Seems it has the answer for the vaccine and antidote.”
Misty wondered if she could ask about Damon and Kadar but thought there wasn’t much point. It would only worry him, and it wasn’t as if she was going to see them again. After hanging up, she started packing. She hadn’t intended on leaving the flat until she went to the airport the day after next. That was until Bonnie returned the next day, having stayed on, partying in York, and undoubtedly called in sick to work. Bonnie had dropped her suitcases, turned on the radio and TV at the same time and disappeared into the bathroom. There were some things Misty would miss about London but Bonnie’s lifestyle was not one of them. This in itself wasn’t enough to make her think about leaving, but when Bonnie emerged, towel wrapped around herself and another around her wet hair, almost the first thing she mentioned was the Karlssens.
“We’re doing a double date,” she said. “Fancy you finding two men that hot. Even if you want to let them slip by, I sure as hell am not going to. Are they Aussies? They sound a bit Spanish, or is it French?”
French, if they worked with WHO in Geneva. But Bonnie wasn’t really interested in a reply and hadn’t noticed Misty pale. When there was finally a gap in the conversation, Misty asked, “When?”
“When what?” Bonnie rubbed her hair and then stood up, readjusting the towel around her. “Oh, I don’t know, they said to ring. I’ve got their number somewhere. Maybe Friday, what do you think? You can wear my pink dress if you like, it’ll look better on you and…”
Misty stopped listening and breathed easier. Okay, she had to ring, which she obviously wasn’t going to do. In all of London they couldn’t track her down in twenty-four hours.
“…they will pick us up and I was thinking we could go to…”
Misty tuned back in. In her experience, men on first dates didn’t pick you up. You met somewhere. “Why would they pick us up, Bonnie?”
Bonnie looked surprised. “I thought it was something you’d discussed. Of course they got the suburb wrong...”
“Please don’t tell me you gave them our address.” But Bonnie didn’t have to answer. A look of guilt washed over her as she realized what she had done. Misty made an instant decision. She booked into an airport hotel and headed out the door with her suitcase.
* * * *
Damon and Kadar missed her by minutes. Bonnie was flustered, possibly because she was wearing very little, but slammed the door in their face, saying Misty had left.
“Left,” mused Damon, “is an odd expression.”
“Sounds usual to me,” said Kadar. “But that woman is a bit weird.”
“She’d say ‘gone out,’ surely?”
Kadar shrugged. “I guess.”
“Left implies…she may have gone back to Australia, given her family situation.”
“The Baekkens surely won’t chase her there.”
“No, but we need to be sure.” Damon was already heading to the tube.
They saw her getting off at the airport, suitcase in hand.
“What now, 007?”
“We watch where she goes and don’t leave until she’s on a plane.”
But instead of heading to the airline desks, she took a bus. Damon grabbed a cab and paid double when it turned out to be such a short trip. They watched her register and take a seat at the bar.
“Are we checking in here?” Kadar asked, pulling his computer out of his back pack and settling in for what he had decided might be a long haul.
“Maybe,” said Damon. He was on edge. There was another meeting with the Baekkens in less than three weeks. He had sensed no good will. If the Baekkens could get all they wanted and rid themselves of the ghosts, he was certain they would. History suggested there was bad blood every time a group broke away from them. In general they tolerated it as long as the break-away groups didn’t create problems. The group in the north that Adam had infected for them clearly had. Damon had no proof, but he was almost certain it was because they’d stolen something. Some or all of the secret as to how the Baekkens had used viral epidemics to control their enemies. Pretty much the information that Damon had told them he had.
He’d taken a huge risk by telling them more than they needed to know. He didn’t intend to play a double agent for long, just long enough to find and destroy the secret. Just what form it took he wasn’t sure, but he imagined they had a sophisticated lab—though possibly very different to those he had trained in. His best guess was that they had a highly unusual virus that they’d found ways to alter to produce certain symptoms or indeed be fatal. But they only used it after they’d also produced the vaccine for themselves. The current pact suggested it took three weeks to do. It had been a lot longer during the war, but then Adam hadn’t needed it until he was returning home from the battlefields.
But what was really putting Damon on edge was that they had inadvertently put Misty and her kind at far greater risk than they already were. He hoped that the Baekkens would rely on him to disperse the virus they provided amongst the were-devils rather than go after them directly. Damon had no intention of ever doing so, but the vampires would be looking for a result. If one didn’t occur, they’d know he had duped them. So by then, he had to know how to combat whatever virus they threw at them. The ultimate, inner secret. And just how he was going to do that, he had absolutely no idea.
There was also the not-small point that despite all the odds, he was hopelessly smitten with Misty.
* * * *
When Misty got to her room, she couldn’t get on the Internet and the front desk wouldn’t answer the phone. Frustrated, she went back downstairs for help, and saw Damon and Kadar sitting at a table in the bar. She stood staring and her body defied her brain, tingling from head to foot, her stomach doing flips. They could be dangerous. But every pore of her emotional being said exactly the opposite. The curse, she mused. Her grandfather hadn’t gone with his emotions and let his mother bully him into honoring the family. He had died and the woman he’d married and not loved had had to bring up Misty’s father and his siblings alone. This was Lyn, her favorite grandmother whose looks she took after and who had surely been as wronged as the woman he had loved but not married.
The thoughts were still churning around in her head when Damon and Kadar slowly turned and looked at her. She felt as if she was frozen to the spot, leaning on the bannister so she wouldn’t crumple. In their looks, she was sure she read obsession—one of love and lust. Could she trust this feeling, one that no other man had ever come close to awakening? And not just with one, but two men? Mac’s words came to her. You’ll love her as much as Mitch and I do. Was it possible that her brothers had found love that was somewhat unconventional? Was this what the prophecy decreed to be necessary? But even if it had, hadn’t Mac said that they had the answers, that both the were-devils’ curse and rebound on the ghosts was not going to happen? So, why would fate make her fall for these two?
Still frozen to the spot, she watched Kadar come toward her. He looked awkward, still the schoolboy with his cap on back to front, and baggy trousers. He stopped when he was close enough for her to hear without broadcasting to the entire lobby.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” he said, changing weight from one foot to the other. “We, that is, can I buy you a drink?”
Yes, her heart said, but she was a rational PhD science student, for hea
ven’s sake.
“Yes,” she said anyway.
* * * *
Damon felt torn. He was feeling guilty and responsible and wanted to ensure her safety, but he also wanted to take this gorgeous woman upstairs to bed and never get out. He knew that Kadar felt the same and that didn’t worry him in the least. They had never been a conventional family and it wouldn’t be the first time they had slept with the same woman, though the only other occasion had been more due to alcohol excess than any thought-through plan. This time he knew it was for keeps, or at least it would be from his perspective. If he could win Misty, he wouldn’t want her hurt, especially not by his brother.
Misty was wearing low-rider black jeans that accentuated her hips and slim, high-heeled boots that made her considerably taller. Her white top showed the curves of her breasts and was low-cut enough for the swell above the top to hint at the delights below. He could barely drag his eyes away from them as she sat down and Kadar went to get her a drink.
“My family is all okay,” Misty said.
“You’re going back?”
“Yes,” said Misty. “For the moment at least. My sister’s getting married and I wouldn’t miss that for anything.”
“I’m glad there’s something positive happening for you all.”
Misty looked down. When Kadar came with a glass of wine, she took a breath and looked up. “Why are you here?”
Kadar and Damon exchanged glances.
“We wanted to be sure you were safe,” said Damon finally. “The vampires saw you with us, and while we aren’t exactly popular with them, your kind are…”
“Considered even less desirable.”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Misty thought for a moment. “As you can see, I am. Safe, that is. I’m on a plane tomorrow, so you don’t need to babysit me. Thanks anyway.”
“It wasn’t exactly a hardship,” said Damon quietly, and when she looked into her eyes, he was sure she saw all that he wanted her to.
* * * *
Even Bonnie wouldn’t have brought two men to bed with her at once, not unless she was very drunk. Misty had only had one glass of wine. But when she finished it and put it down on the table, she knew she couldn’t bear going back to Australia without one night with them. She might never see them again. This type of wild behavior was out of character and she was bound to get hurt, but it felt so right that her whole body was crying for them both to have her and be with her. If this was all it was meant to be, then at least she’d have one memory of taking a chance and living life to its fullest.
“I’m in room 606,” she said as she stood. Walking away, she had no doubt they had understood her meaning.
They gave her twenty minutes. Twenty nervous minutes where she took her hair out of its plait and then put it back in again, and then out once more to pile loosely on her head. She’d cleaned her teeth and put on perfume and then scrubbed it off, not wanting them to think she was trying too hard. When there was a gentle knock at the door, she was so nervous she dropped the mascara and had to quickly wipe up the black smears on the bathroom tiles before answering it.
Damon was carrying a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and Kadar three glasses.
She backed into the room and sat on the bed, not trusting herself to speak. In the soft shadows, Damon’s looks took on a hint of the mysterious while Kadar, happily uncorking champagne, was like a playful puppy dog.
“To the resolution of the curse,” said Damon, toasting.
“And enjoying whatever way we can make a difference,” added Kadar with a grin. He wasn’t, she thought, thinking about viruses.
It was he that touched her first, a hand awkwardly running through her hair and bringing it tumbling down around her face.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, marveling at the length of her black hair as his hand ran through it like a comb.
“Exquisitely so,” Damon murmured, watching her from the chair.
Kadar’s other hand now traced over her cheek to her lips. Misty sat perfectly still, heart pounding loudly enough, she was sure, for them to hear.
“Relax,” Kadar whispered into her ear. “This is meant to be fun.”
Fun wasn’t exactly how Misty would have described the moment. More like an adrenaline rush, the sort people jumped out of planes to achieve. For someone whose life had been pretty conservative and mundane, this was her plane jump. She hoped there was a parachute.
Kadar followed his whisper with his tongue, warm and wet around the rim of her ear, tickling as it probed a little deeper. He edged himself further back on the bed and swung a leg around the other side of her, so that sitting behind her he could pull her back into him. For a moment she felt like she had as a child, lost in an embrace with the huge Newfoundland they had owned after rescuing it from the side of the road, where it had been hit by a car. Misty had slept with it, her in his bed rather than the other way around, for several months before her parents found out and sent the dog outside. She’d loved the feeling of being surrounded by warmth and soft, gentle wetness when he had licked her. Her parachute, she thought, as her anxiety dissipated, leaving only the delicious accentuation of adrenaline surge when Kadar’s hand went over her breast. First his fingers traced over a nipple through the cotton top and then slowly they edged underneath it until he was able to cup one breast in a hand.
Misty moaned and leant back into him, feeling him harden as she did. She opened her eyes and looked at Damon, still on the chair, watching. She held out her hand and he smiled, putting his drink down and kneeling by the bed between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her jean-covered legs, edging underneath them to reach her calves.
“I think,” he said, “you have way too many clothes on.”
Misty’s stomach flipped and she felt her juices flowing. She hadn’t even known it was possible to be this turned on. Nodding, she lay back into Kadar as his hands came under her top. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He murmured his approval, but with him now running his hands over her breasts, she was enjoying the experience every bit as much as he was. Eyes not leaving Damon, she watched him unzip her boots, doing so with such care it was as if he was afraid she would break. But as she watched his growing excitement, she knew that, like her, he was savoring every moment.
When Damon came to undo the button and zip of her jeans, his fingers lingered longer than needed, tracing over her naval and then leaning in, licking it. As he pulled back, he edged down her jeans, not rushing. Misty wriggled, trying to help him move faster. I might never see them again. I need to imprint every moment in case I need to relive this for the rest of my life.
When Damon finally removed her jeans, panties still in place, he picked up a foot and ran his hand ever so slowly along the sole of her foot, along the calf and then over her knee and up her thigh. Misty thought the anticipation would cause her to scream out “take me right now,” but Kadar, amused by what he sensed, turned her head toward him and kissed her, tongues uniting so that they were still exploring each other when Damon brushed his hand over the crutch of her panties.
Misty moaned.
“You’re very wet,” said Damon, another finger tracing over her, but this time outlining the lips of her pussy.
She moaned again.
“Would you like him to remove your panties?” Kadar whispered in her ear.
Misty didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded.
“And your top?”
She nodded again and they paused for a moment as Kadar first pulled her top off and then his own. The skin of her back against his was electric. Looking at Damon’s now naked torso, she longed to feel that next to her, too. Not muscular in a works-out-a-lot sense, his body was smooth and lean, defined in a way that said man, not boy.
His hands went to each side of her panties and she held her breath as he eased them off, leaving her naked between them. Damon gently parted her legs and leant in, a tongue running along her lips already wet with juices, and then parting them, licking
deeper, probing around her clit, then down again, pushing into her cunt. Leaning back, he pushed her legs gently up, splaying her knees out so she was fully opened up to him.
This time Damon moaned. “You’re so absolutely perfect,” he said.
From behind her, Misty could feel Kadar’s hand massaging her buttock. Now, as Damon sat back, he went lower, a finger tracing over her ass then into the juices of her pussy.
“That feels…” But Misty couldn’t finish the sentence as the finger pushed inside her and she sucked it in, muscles clamping and wanting more.
“Would you like something bigger?” Kadar teased.
“Yes, please,” said Misty, no longer recognizing herself but not caring.
Kadar eased himself out from behind her and she lay back on the pillows, black hair tangled all around her. She watched the men drop their jeans and briefs, their cocks long and hard. They both slipped condoms over their erections and then lay down next to her, one on either side.
Kadar took her nipple in between his teeth and began sucking it, teeth occasionally pulling. Her hand went to his cock and she tightened around the shaft, rubbing. Damon’s hand went to her pussy, rubbing over her clit, which sent electric jolts through her so that her hips began to rock. “Take me,” she begged.
Damon kissed her gently, then, pulling away, moved between her legs, rubbing the end of his cock along her slit.
“Now?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Misty.
As Damon entered her they both gasped. For Misty, it was the feeling of a much-awaited craving being satisfied. But no sooner had the delicious sensation of being filled satisfied her, than she wanted more. Her pelvic muscles clamped around him and her hips rocked in time to his as Kadar’s biting of her nipples became more and more intense. Damon held her hips tightly and pulled her into him so their rhythm became frantic in their desire to climax and satisfy the other.
As soon as she felt him releasing, Misty, too, allowed herself to let go, an orgasm rippling through her in a way that before she had only ever achieved with a vibrator. The sense of connectedness that made this so different left her panting and staring at Damon. So this was what it was meant to be like.