Witch Wars: The Underlayes, Book One

by T. A. Moorman

  Then he stood while still pumping into me, never even missing a beat until he was slamming my back up against a tree, going ever deeper within me. The only sounds I heard were those of him entering me again and again and again, and my own voice as I screamed his name and asked…no, I begged for more. After several more deep thrusts, he pulled out of me, eliciting a whimper from my mouth. Until suddenly, quicker than I could even blink, he had me on all fours and was slamming into me even harder, deeper and faster than before, his hand gripping the back of my neck in an almost punishing grip.

  As he continued to thrust, I could feel him growing larger still inside my walls. Placing his wrist to my parted lips, he demanded, “Drink”, in a deep, hoarse, guttural, demonic tone.

  Without any further questions, I allowed my fangs to extend fully and sank them deeply into his wrist. I felt him growing even more as he took on his true demonic form, his entire body becoming thicker, larger and scalier.

  “Let me see you,” I heard myself saying.

  He froze. Just completely stopped midstroke. “Don’t want you to see me like this,” he responded with a lisp. “Might scare you away.” That admission almost shattered my heart into a million pieces, because with a certainty that defied all logic, I knew that it wouldn’t. It made me sad to hear the fear of rejection in his voice, his real voice.

  “I want to see all of you, the real you, please.”

  This time he pulled out of me slowly so as not to hurt me as he moved to stand. I turned around on my knees and my eyes grew wide at the sight of wonder before me.

  There he stood in all his glory, his skin the black oasis of a starless night, deep, dark and alluring, glistening with sweat. He stood at just over seven feet tall, and every inch of him was nothing more than masses of pure muscle. His face was beautiful for all of its masculinity, a work of art chiseled from the most precious stone. His fangs, which were too large for him to conceal, did not detract from that beauty, simply enhanced it. And his glorious, wavy locks of hair that ran just past his shoulders were several different shades of red, amber, auburn, burnt ash and gold. The package was completed by a tail he attempted to keep hidden behind him.

  As I began to crawl towards him, he started to back away. “Baby, stop, please,” I said to him in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.

  I crawled more slowly to him this time, as if I were approaching a deadly beast, and truly, I was. But he was my deadly beast. No, I by no means wanted to tame him, only to claim what was mine, and that was him. Once I reached his enormous clawed feet, I began to stand, kissing my way up his leg as I did so until I was standing damn near eye to eye with the extremely large, long and rock-hard length of him. I had a stray thought as I wrapped both my hands around him of how in the worlds all that had fit inside of me, then I thought it probably had something to do with having ingested his blood, which was why he’d been so urgent for me to do so. I glided my hands down until they were gripping his sac, then glided my tongue along the underside of his length all the way to his tip. When I got there, I continued licking, teasing and tasting, but I wanted to do more.

  “Tell, me”, I asked mid-lick, “is all of you, every inch of your skin, damn near impenetrable while in this form?” When he gave me a very eager nod of his head, I took as much of him into my mouth as I possibly could until I was damn near choking on it. Then I swallowed so that I could take even more, without the fear of nicking him with my fangs to halt me. I could feel him shuddering, his knees shaking as I continued to suck on him while my hands stroked him at his base.

  He pulled me off him then. “Need to come,” he said, his voice even rougher than before, “but not in your mouth, not this time.”

  My demon then lifted me by my waist with his enormous hands, impaling me once again, and again there was nothing gentle about it, nor did I want or need it to be. His tail wrapped around me, fondling, grazing, then probing until he was penetrating me again, filling both of my holes. He bent his head until he made eye-contact with me, as if to seek permission for what he did next. Then he struck, sinking his fangs into my right breast, and I sank my own into his neck. I felt it then. The same as with Chandler. Our souls made love to each other, bonded with each other. Only this time it was the magical part of my soul that did so. After that, we both climaxed, finding our release at the exact same moment, and it was so much more than just an exchange of bodily fluids; it was pure euphoria.

  Once we were both spent, he sank down to a sitting position on the ground, taking me with him. As he did so, he began shrinking back down to Bran size while still inside me, and for a while we just held each other, just like that.

  “We’ll get this all sorted out, my little witch. And when I discover Young Rasputin’s part in all this, I plan on crushing him like the tiny bug he truly is.” That last was said on a growl so low and lethal it sent chills skittering down my spine.

  23

  Tainted Love

  Grateful that I now knew exactly where my living quarters were, I flashed myself directly into my bathroom to freshen up before I had to face everyone else once again. After jumping in the shower and doing an insanely quick lather and rinse, I went into the bedroom suite.

  Instead of just throwing on some sweats as I normally would, I had a feeling I was going to need more than just that today. So walking into the closet, I grabbed a set of shit-kicker boots and leathers of the Guard. After donning my gear and stashing daggers and knives in every secret compartment available (What? I like blades!) I pulled my mass of scarlet waves into a high ponytail without bothering to put it in a bun. I just let the ends hang down my back.

  Passing by a mirror, I couldn’t help but think, Damn, I do look good.

  Walking into the living area, I spied Chandler already there, waiting with a donor to share. After we had our fill, we sent her away with a smile, and I filled him in on what I had learned from Demon Bran (yes, I told him every single detail), as well as everything I’d been told by my mom and dad. And my suspicions about Young Rasputin, because I did not believe in coincidences, and his name had popped up one too many times. He was up to something, and in order to sort this all out, we needed to figure out what that something was.

  When I asked Chandler if anything new had developed on this end of things, I got a look that pretty much said Yeah, right, or You must be joking—something along those lines, anyway. Apparently, all Mom and Dad had done was continue to bicker back and forth. Anya and Darvyn had, however, done their part in rallying the troops, and letting them know to be prepared for anything at any given moment. They’d basically put the castle on high alert. Grandmama was thinking along the same lines as me in the Rasputin aspect of things, so she was doing her best to rack her brain, and trying to get Aunt Hildegarde to think coherently in case there was anything she knew that we didn’t. Though if you asked me, that avenue was more than likely a lost cause.

  Nana…well, she apparently couldn’t get off her high horse long enough to help anyone with anything. She wasn’t even in the castle grounds anymore. Which, call me paranoid all you want, didn’t add up to me either. She’d been the main one to go to great pains to make sure no one knew about me and Anya. The main one who’d been bound and determined to keep her daughter married to the king. So why now, when all that was being unraveled and in serious threat of flat-out falling apart, wouldn’t she be there doing whatever it took to stop that from happening? Not off somewhere still playing Ms. Holier Than Thou.

  “Just how long does this demon of yours plan on staying laid up like he’s getting ready to die any day now?”

  “That’s a good-ass question, ain’t it? One I don’t have the answer to. Besides, just knowing how he feels about that family, I’m thinking he’s probably going to ride it out as long as possible, since he seems to genuinely despise even having to be in the same room as them.” I laughed a little, thinking of how he shuddered at the mere mention of that family.

  “Okay, seriously, what is Young Rasputin really up t
o? Does he truly think that Grandmama is from that Romanov family his family had a feud with? They were human—has he forgotten that tidbit of information?”

  That had me thinking. “Wait, what if someone led him to believe she was indeed that Anastasia? Imagine the Brownie points he would gain by bagging and tagging her—or any of us, for that manner?”

  “Tia, don’t you think that’s stretching things just a little?”

  “Is it? You’ve seen how batshit crazy that family is. I mean, come on, who names their child Young? Not even as a nickname, but his real first name, for Goddess’ sake. So it wouldn’t really take much to convince him of something like that. And he wouldn’t tell anyone in his family about any of it, because he would want to take any and all credit for himself. Meaning no one in his family would have known what was going on, or even had the opportunity to tell him the truth of the matter. Come on, you know I’m right.” I started pacing back and forth, knowing with my entire being that I was on to something.

  Chandler put more of his two cents into the mix. “Okay, let’s say you’re correct about all this, my love. Who would stand to gain anything from doing such a thing?”

  “Who has been orchestrating this thing from the very start? Who has been pulling my gullible mother’s strings like an expert conductor from the very beginning of all of this?”

  He gave me that look again—Are you insane? So I knelt before him, pleading to him with my eyes to see what I was trying to tell him, to see things the way I did.

  “Listen, I know how nuts all this sounds, but just think about it. I know there must be more reasons behind this that I don’t know about. But I’m telling you, Nana has got to be behind all this. There’s something else going on here that we don’t know about yet. And I promise you, I am going to find out what that something is. But I’m going to need your help, and everyone else’s. It’s almost mine and Anya’s birthday. So whatever endgame Nana has up her sleeve is going to come to fruition sooner rather than later. I’d much rather we be prepared for it than be caught with our pants hanging down at our ankles.”

  “Okay, okay, what’s your plan? And get up off your knees before talking is something we won’t be doing for a long while.” He pulled me off the floor to sit beside him. “Now, this plan of yours?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure of it yet, but I do know we’re going to need everyone to help put it in place.”

  “How sweet. Too damn bad you’re too late for that, my dear.” It was Nana. She’d flashed in right behind me like she owned the place. She grabbed me and flashed us away before Chandler or I could get our wits about us.

  Sometimes, it really doesn’t pay to be right.

  24

  All Good Things Come To An End

  “Seriously, Nana?” It was amazing to me how being right about something could suck so very much.

  But to give credit where it was due, Nana sure was one smart and powerful cookie, albeit a sick, twisted and maniacally dangerous one. When I came to this time, I at least wasn’t chained down anywhere. And that thing Dad had said about blood calling to blood for vampires was spot on, because I knew without looking that both Anya and Elyssia were also there. And to say we were far from home would be a severely drastic understatement. We were definitely no longer in Underlayes.

  Before I even opened my eyes, I had a slight inkling of where we were from the cold moisture and the smells in the air, which were common this time of year. Then again, when it came to the city of Detroit, any type of weather could hit at any moment. No magic was involved in that fact, it was just how the city was. It could go not only from hot to cold, but from sunshine to a snowstorm the following day. I could tell by the sounds that it had to be towards the middle of the night; there was no hustle or bustle about, no more people taking late-night strolls or the like, not even many cars on the roads from what I could hear. I knew all this because it was where Grimm used to sneak me off to.

  We were in the true heart of downtown Detroit, Michigan. After shooting pool at Roscoe’s, me and Grimm would come down here to Hart Plaza and either enjoy one of the ethnic festivals going on, or just walk hand in hand along the water while the sounds of different types of music from all around the world, from reggae to country to techno, played in the background. During the seasons when there were no festivities going on, we either sat on the few steps looking up at the starry night sky, or leaned against the railings and stared out into the majestic waters of the Detroit River. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the place right now.

  Like I said, I wasn’t chained up this time around, but Nana had done something to me. Either she had drugged me, spelled me, or just plain knocked my ass the fuck out. I was still trying to figure out which, or if it had been a combination of all three. There was a big-ass knot on my head that was already healing on its own, but that could have been from being dropped to the ground like a rag doll, which was what had made me alert in the first place. The other question I had was how long had I been out of it?

  Last thing I remembered was trying to convince Chandler of my theory involving Nana and Young Rasputin. Anya and Elyssia hadn’t been anywhere around. So had she gone around picking us off one by one, or had she had accomplices helping her out, and scooped us all up in one fell swoop? None of that really mattered right now, because what I really needed to worry about was the here and now. Because it was up to us to get ourselves out of this mess. If we were in the Earth realm, help would not be on the way, with or without blood bonds. I didn’t even know if my demon could cross over to this side. And if we were indeed coming up to sunrise soon, what would that mean for me and Anya? Did we have enough witch blood to be able to survive the sunlight? Or would we be shit out of luck once the sun came up?

  Right about now, things were not looking too good for the three of us. When I was finally able to pry my eyes open, I saw that not only had I been right about our location, but our predicament was not looking good in the slightest. Elyssia was tied to some type of chair and was looking much worse for wear. I didn’t know what had been done to her, but I could tell even from this distance that she was severely dehydrated. Not only would that mean her magic would be weak, but while a witch would die from dehydration slower than a human, it would take place more rapidly for Elyssia, with water being her element. With all the moisture in the air, you would think she’d be able to at least draw on that. That was when I looked more closely and saw that she was trapped within a circle, and so was I.

  While Anya appeared to be the only one of us not contained within a circle, she didn’t seem to be faring any better. I couldn’t tell whether or not she was awake, but I could see that she was shivering uncontrollably. Anya was tied to the railings right off the water, and she was soaking wet, every part of her body drenched, her clothes—a pair of jeans and a thick cotton T-shirt—clinging to her body, ensuring she was thoroughly cold and completely weak. Being right by the water on an October night in Detroit was almost guaranteed to make anyone cold. Adding in being dripping wet on top of that was sure to chill a being right to their very core. And devastatingly so for a witch whose element to call was fire.

  But what about her—our—vampire side? Then again, I didn’t know how long we’d been out of it, and if neither of us had fed, that side wouldn’t be of much help either. Seemed like Nana really had thought of everything, but I refused to give up. That bitch would not get away with whatever the fuck she was up to. And for her to go to all this trouble, it had to be something big. I needed to warm up, if only a little bit; the cold was making my brain sluggish, and I had to come up with some type of plan.

  I thought of trying to summon my demon to my side, but thought better of it. Even if he could cross to this realm, I didn’t know whether if he showed up he would be trapped right alongside me within the bounds of the circle. I didn’t know enough about doing a summoning to put his life at risk, or his newly found freedom. Had we been in Underlayes, sure, but we weren’t.

  N
o sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I began to smell brimstone, but I couldn’t let him come—I wouldn’t. Getting to my knees, I forced my mind to focus and pulled every bit of magic I could grasp within myself, every shred of strength left in my being to push him back out. It wasn’t easy. Just as I was determined to keep him away, he was determined to get to where I was, and he was fighting back just as hard. I could hear him literally growling within my mind, the smell of him growing stronger, and I also began to feel his heat, meaning he was breaking through.

  Let me in, Princess. No one takes what is mine, and you’re mine.

  Hearing his voice and feeling his heat gave me the extra strength I needed, and I grabbed on to it with all my might. “I won’t let you be put back in chains, baby, unless it’s during foreplay.”

  Not wanting to risk placing him anywhere other than Underlayes, I pictured the place that I had come to think of as ours, and I shoved him out of this realm and into the Whispering Forest. He was so angry I could still feel his heatwaves. And I took that heat and shoved once more, breaking all three of our circles.

  Before I could revel in that tiny victory, someone was standing over me and kicking me dead in my guts. “You little bitch!”

  “Get the fuck away from my daughter.” Someone knocked Nana down to the ground with a huge gust of wind.

  “Mom?” I barely managed to choke out, coughing up blood in the process. If my eyes had been working properly they would probably have bugged right out of my head. This had to be the first time I had ever seen Mom completely witched out, and she was a truly, magnificently frightening sight to behold, her hair and her long black dress flying in the wind coming from within her body, her eyes a swirling vortex of storm clouds. Her hands were like wind catchers, of the scary, deadly variety. She was like a walking, talking, fully functional, lethal tornado and hurricane wrapped up in one.