by I. T. Lucas
“Hold for one more second, I’m starting the recording!” Shai called from his command station at the controls of the sophisticated equipment.
Kian waited for the guy to give the thumbs-up before he began again.
“Okay. This is council meeting?” He had forgotten to check the number of the last session.
“Four hundred and twelve!” Shai supplied.
“Thank you.” Having a secretary with eidetic memory was definitely convenient.
“This is council meeting four hundred and twelve. All members present.” Kian recited the standard opening sentence meant for record keeping.
Taking a deep breath, he addressed the council. “Last night, Mark son of Micah, was murdered by the DOOM Brotherhood in his own home.” Kian paused for a moment, waiting for everyone’s shocked responses of disbelief and sorrow to settle down.
“We were dealt a monumental blow. Beyond losing a beloved family member, the loss of his incredible talent will hinder our progress in developing the software that could potentially save the world by disabling the weapons meant for its destruction.” Looking at their worried and pained expressions, he added in a softer tone, “Bhathian and Arwel brought his body home, and the service in his honor will be held tomorrow at midnight.” Kian looked at their faces as each member gave him a somber nod of agreement.
His next request wouldn’t meet with such easy acquiescence. Bracing for the inevitable argument, Kian gripped the lapels of his robe and fixed the council with a hard stare.
“Until the level of threat is ascertained, I move to seclude all council members in our secure building. We can’t afford to lose any of you, and we don’t have enough Guardians to provide each member with a security detail. You’ll have to cancel any appointments you had scheduled for the time being. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I see no other option.”
“I don’t know how anybody can find us among the mortals, there is nothing pointing to us,” Brandon protested. “We can’t be prisoners in your glass tower; you know we need to consort with mortals for obvious reasons.”
Kian had been expecting someone to raise that objection. “At this point, we don’t know how much the Doomers know. Mark’s laptop and sat-phone are missing. We can only hope they don’t have anyone capable enough to break through his firewalls. And besides, there might have been other clues at his house that can lead to us. I’m not willing to take unnecessary risks. As to being prisoners, you can still go to clubs, bars, restaurants, and whatever random places you like. I just don’t want you anywhere near your habitual meeting or workplaces.”
“If they try to break into his laptop, it will self-corrupt all info. Same for the phone, I’m not worried,” William offered.
“What if they have someone of Mark’s caliber?” Kian kept playing the devil’s advocate.
William snorted. “Then we’re screwed, but they don’t. No one has.”
“Did you inform Mother and Sari?” Amanda looked at Kian with her big, sad eyes, ignoring the whole seclusion discussion. She’d already expressed her opinion about this idea earlier. Hopefully, she wouldn’t stir things up and embarrass him in front of the entire council.
“I called them shortly after Arwel delivered the news. Tomorrow during the service both of them, together with their people, will be with us via teleconferencing. The whole clan will take part in Mark’s final journey.”
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice.
He was glad she hadn’t argued with him about the seclusion, but it pained him to see Amanda’s usually animated face look defeated as she sank back into her chair.
“I think you’re being overly cautious, but let’s vote on it!” Edna went straight to the point, probably under the assumption that the council would vote against Kian.
But he had an ace up his sleeve.
“As this is a security issue, the Guardians will take part in the vote.”
This was another advantage of keeping the council members in the dark about the subject of this meeting. Edna hadn’t thought to check the emergency bylaws. Not that she could’ve done anything to stop him if she had known. The council members had no chance; they were as good as tied and locked.
The Guardians always voted with Kian.
“Let’s see then. All in favor of seclusion, raise your hands!” he called.
The Seven Guardians and Kian all raised their hands, and so did Bridget. Not a big surprise since she already lived in the keep. Defeated, William and Edna joined the show of hands.
That left two.
Brandon shrugged. “Well, what do you know, vacation time for me! I’ll finally get to see all the Battlestar Galactica episodes.”
Kian glanced at Amanda, expecting her to argue, but she didn’t. Evidently, the experience at the lab had scared her into compliance.
Chapter 23: Syssi
The nightmare was back.
Terrified, Syssi was running away from a pack of snarling wolves. With the moon obscured by dark clouds and the dense canopy of tall trees, the barely visible trail was illuminated only by a darting speck of light. Following it, Syssi prayed she wouldn’t stumble and fall.
All alone in the foreboding darkness, the huge monsters’ red glowing eyes and sharp fangs never far behind, she was defenseless.
Soon, she wouldn’t be able to run anymore, and they’d get her. Rip her apart.
How did I get here?
Why are they chasing me?
Desperate tears streaming down her cheeks, Syssi kept running, when up ahead in the distance she glimpsed something that gave her a glimmer of hope. Hidden under the dark shadows cast by the thick limbs of a tree was a silhouette of what looked like a tall man.
“Help me!” Syssi called to him.
There was no response.
Was he even real? Or was her mind playing tricks on her? Desperately searching for a pattern in what was nothing more than rocks and bushes loosely resembling a human form?
But what choice did she have?
It was either find help or die a horrific death.
She had nothing to lose by changing direction and running toward him. If there was nothing there, she would just keep on running. Until she could run no more.
But as she got closer, and it became apparent that the man wasn’t a figment of her imagination, hope and relief bloomed in Syssi’s chest.
“Help!” she yelled again. But he ignored her, his gaze fixed on the pursuing red eyes.
“Help me! Damn you!” Syssi shook his arm, forcing him to look at her.
Finally he turned, shifting his intense eyes to her. “No need to yell, Syssi. Get behind me.” He turned back to stare at the rapidly approaching wolves.
How did he know her name? Did she know him? She would’ve remembered someone like him. The man was stunningly beautiful.
What a strange thing to notice at a time like this.
Never mind. He is going to help me.
Hiding behind his large frame, she watched the wolves burst out of the tree line and circle them, snarling; their horrid yellow fangs dripping with fetid saliva.
The man raised his hands and snarled back at the wolves, exposing a pair of huge, acid-dripping fangs.
Acid?
What made her think it was acid?
Oh, right, the dirt sizzled where drops of it fell.
The wolves began backing away with their tails curled under their bellies, still snarling and drooling at her rescuer as they made their retreat.
“Run! You mangy cowardly dogs! Not so brave now, are you?” she taunted the wolves from her safe spot behind the guy’s back.
The wolves turned and ran into the thicket, leaving her alone with the stranger.
“Thank you. You saved my life. I don’t want to think what would’ve happened if you weren’t here to help me.” Syssi smiled at him. The guy was so tall that she had to crank her neck way up to look at him.
“You should keep on running, Syssi. There is a reason the wolves fear me,
I’m a monster too.” He flashed his fangs.
Was he trying to scare her off? She wasn’t afraid of him.
“Why aren’t you running?” he asked when she didn’t budge.
“How can you say that? You’re not a monster. You’re a hero!” Syssi stretched up on her toes and kissed him on the lips.
“Are you crazy? What are you doing? You’ll get burned by the acid!” The man brought his thumb to her lips and wiped them vigorously.
“Your acid is harmful only to the demon wolves. It tastes good to me.” She licked her lips and smiled, coyly inviting another kiss.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he growled, looking at her menacingly and flashing his sharp fangs again.
But then a small, terrible smile curled his lips, and his lids dropped halfway over his eyes. “Do you want these fangs piercing the skin of your neck? Do you want me to bite you?” It sounded more like a promise than a threat.
“Will it hurt?” Syssi asked in a small voice.
“Yes, it will. But it will also bring you intense pleasure. Do you feel adventurous?” He dipped his head and brought his lips to the base of her neck. Not touching. Threatening.
“Then I want you to,” Syssi whispered, brushing her hair away to give him better access. And yet, despite her brave words her heart began beating faster and she closed her eyes, her excitement tinged by fear.
“Why?” he whispered in her ear, brushing his lips lightly against her neck.
Shocking herself, Syssi blurted throatily, “Because I want you to make love to me.”
Hey, it’s my dream...
Yes, she realized—this was only a dream.
Good. Inside her own head, she could be as brazen as she wanted to.
“Would you?” she asked.
“I don’t know how.” He turned away from her.
Incredulous, Syssi gasped. “Have you never done it before?” There was no way a man like him wasn’t constantly propositioned by women. His celibacy could only be explained by religious prohibition, perhaps priesthood. Or maybe he was a monk. Except, he didn’t seem like either.
“It was so long ago, I forgot how.” He sounded dejected.
At least he wasn’t a virgin. But she was curious about his decision to abstain. “Did you take a vow of celibacy? Join a monastery?”
But then, as she thought more about it—
Wait! There could be another explanation. What if he can’t? What if he has a condition, and I’m making it so much worse for him?
Talk about putting one’s foot in one’s mouth.
With a sinister smile on his beautiful face, he dipped his head to look into her eyes. “No, I didn’t abstain, I had plenty of sex, just not the kind that qualifies as lovemaking,” he said sarcastically.
“Oh...” What was she supposed to say to that? Suspecting she knew the answer, she asked anyway. “What’s the difference?”
The way his expression turned predatory seemed familiar for some reason. Had they met before? She would have remembered him. Really not the kind of guy she could’ve ever forgotten.
“One is the gentle lovey-dovey kind a girl like you likes, the kind you have with someone you care about. The other is just a fuck, rough and intense, so much so that it sometimes hurts. But you don’t give a damn because it hurts so good. Not something a good girl like you knows anything about or wants.” He gave her a haughty, condescending look.
Who did he think he was? Assuming things about her? Even if they were true? Still, he had no right.
“How would you know? You know nothing about me,” she protested. “Don’t presume what I know or what I want.”
“Fair enough, although I’m in your head, so I should know. But I’ll ask anyway; what do you want, Syssi?”
Now, wasn’t that the million dollar question. What did she want?
Thinking, she bit down on her bottom lip and looked down at her feet, when out of nowhere a memory surfaced, flooding her with intense desire.
Syssi remembered being pressed against a wall, a man’s hand fisting her hair, pulling just hard enough to provide the smidgen of pain that was driving her wild. He was kissing her, grinding himself against her, his ferocity and intensity making her wet and needy. She’d urged him to do more, but he’d withdrawn, leaving her unsatisfied.
It had been him! The same guy...
Why couldn’t she remember his name?
Was it Cain? Kaen?
“I remember you. You kissed me. It was exactly like you said; rough, intense, a little painful. It was an amazing kiss and I was desperate for more. But you stopped and left me hanging. Except, you looked as if you regretted letting me go. And I know that you cared.”
Wow, who was that woman that possessed her and spoke out of her mouth so blatantly?
Cain, or whatever his name was, eyed her like a tasty treat, smiling and flashing his fangs. “So, you like a little pain with your pleasure, don’t you, naughty girl?”
Syssi paused to think. “I guess it’s like sprinkling spice on a dish that is otherwise bland... I don’t like bland food.”
Okay, saved by a metaphor; no way she was spelling it out for him. Not even in a dream.
“That is something we have in common. I don’t like bland food either.”
Was he mocking her? She glanced up, checking his expression. No, he wasn’t. If possible, he looked even hungrier for her. And his blatant lust ignited a fire within her.
Syssi felt herself grow wet, dizzy, dimly aware that she’d never understood what swooning was all about before experiencing it herself.
As her legs nearly went out from under her, he saved her from falling by grabbing onto her waist and holding her against his body in a tight embrace. For a long moment, he just looked into her eyes, his gaze so hungry and yet unsure, his lips so close and yet out of reach.
She’d die if he didn’t kiss her.
Or scratch his eyes out for teasing her like this.
One of the two.
“Don’t you dare…” she started.
Misinterpreting her words, he pulled his head away.
“Kiss me!” she commanded.
A small smirk brightened his fearsome expression. “Make up your mind, sweet girl. Do you want to be kissed or not?”
“Don’t you dare not kiss me.”
His brows lifted and he grinned. His long fangs on full display, he looked absolutely evil. She should’ve been frightened, but she wasn’t. If anything, the sight of them sent a blast of desire down into her core.
He inhaled, his eyelids dropping over his eyes for a moment as if he’d just smelled something delicious. “Lustful little thing, aren’t you? And so demanding.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake, was he going to make her beg?
Whatever, it was just a dream, right? No one would ever know if she did.
“Please, kiss me…,” she breathed and parted her lips in invitation.
His arm still wrapped securely around her, he tangled his free hand in her hair. Grabbing a fistful, he held her in place and lowered his lips to hers.
Time slowed down as Syssi watched him close the distance in slow motion. Breathing was impossible, and her heart felt like it had stopped beating. She was going to die. Right here, right now, in this dream. But she didn’t care. Besides this man and the way he was making her feel, nothing mattered. She needed him more than her next breath. Or her next heartbeat.
When their lips finally touched, the relief was so profound that she felt dizzy with it. Though the part of her that was still capable of thought suggested that it might’ve been the lack of oxygen in her lungs.
At first, his touch was gentle as he took possession of her mouth, even unexpectedly sweet, but it lasted no more than a second.
She felt, rather than heard, the hungry growl that started deep in his throat. And as he let it loose, his restraint snapped and he attacked—his tongue invading her mouth, the hand fisting her hair tightening, pulling at the roots, and the fingers
of the other one digging deep into her flesh. It should’ve been painful, uncomfortable, but her body was somehow transforming it into erotic heat.
Syssi’s eyes rolled back and the husky moan that escaped her mouth was like no sound she’d ever made before. It should’ve been embarrassing, but she couldn’t care less.
Her dark stranger was turning her into a mindless puddle of need.
“I better finish what I’ve started then. It’d be very ungentlemanly of me to leave a lady hanging, wouldn’t you agree?” he whispered as he lowered her to the ground... laying her... on a bed?
Oh, the wonders of dreamscape.
Propped on his elbow, he loomed above her, looking into her eyes as his hand snaked under her shirt, finding her achy nipple and circling it slowly with his thumb.
Syssi arched her back, her shirt and bra performing a magical disappearing act as she offered him more.
Holding his eyes locked on hers, he dipped his head and took the offering in his lips, suckling gently as he moved his thumb to rim her other nipple.
The pleasure was so intense, she felt as if a tight coil was winding inside her, and at any moment it would spring with an explosive force.
Syssi was panting, her hips undulating, her juices flowing. More, she begged soundlessly, I need more.
As if to answer her silent plea, she felt his teeth graze the bud he was suckling, and then gently close around it. And yet, no alarm bells sounded in her head; there was no fear. She trusted her dream lover not to hurt her…well, that wasn’t entirely true… she trusted him to hurt her just right.
Applying light pressure to her achy nipple with his blunt teeth, he pinched her other one between his thumb and forefinger and tugged.
She whimpered, the zing of pain opening the floodgates down below. She couldn’t remember ever being so wet—her panties soaked through and her juices running down her thighs. And yet, there was no embarrassment, no anxiety.
Instead, unexpectedly, there was joy.
The joy of discovering that she was capable of experiencing such pleasure, that there was someone, even if only in a dream, who knew the secret code to unlocking her hidden desires.