“So, the prince thinks himself a demon fit to serve Uuna?” He produced a long thin leather strap. “I will break you and relish every second of it.” The guard ripped Greydon’s shirt and jeans free from his body. He gritted his teeth against the pain as the leather made contact with his back.
He’d suffered worse. “I didn’t feel a thing.” He flashed his fangs at the other demon.
The guard growled and several more lashes split his skin like a grape. The heat of blood trickled down his back and across his buttocks. “Are you ready to beg me for mercy?” asked his assailant.
“Bring me your worst,” Greydon replied through gritted teeth. The guard responded by beating him harder.
The next smack landed on the back of his thighs. Then the guard moved to his front and took his fury out on his chest. With each strike, he clenched his jaw but refused to whimper. To show any sign of weakness could go as a mark against him in this game of torture. He would keep his mouth shut, and he would succeed.
After several minutes, the beating stopped. He took a deep breath and prepared for whatever came next. Two more guards entered the dark room with large wooden buckets in hand. Before he realized what they intended, they doused him with salt water. The searing pain sucked the air from his lungs as every open wound burned.
He couldn’t catch his breath.
Everyone vacated the room and left him to hang in his misery and try to heal. He closed his eyes and took refuge in the cool darkness. Hopefully, they would leave him long enough to regain some strength before they brought on the next round.
His mind wandered back to Aimee. He’d wanted so badly to tell her all about his world and show her where his people had been living for the past few centuries. But it lay in ruins, thanks to the Concosa. He also wondered, with her knowledge of ancient Greek, if she would enjoy exploring the hidden city. His ancestors had fled it long ago, and now he was destined to bring it back to life. He’d never seen it himself but, knew he would enjoy the look on her face when she realized where she was. I need to get that woman out of my head. That would be easier said than done.
Greydon must have dozed off because he awoke to someone loosening his bindings, and suddenly he fell to the floor. Two guards each grabbed an arm, dragged him out the door and tossed him into a vortex. Seconds later, he was spit back out onto the black sand. He lay on his stomach as the suns beat down on him and lifted his head to glance around, in hopes that his clothes had come back with him. As luck would have it, his pants lay to his left within an arm’s reach.
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and reached for his jeans. His fingertips brushed the denim but missed pulling them toward him. He reached again, this time catching a belt loop to drag them closer. He flopped onto his back and winced from the pain. While his wounds had healed considerably, the salt had slowed the process.
He shoved one leg into the fabric, finished pulling his jeans up his thighs in jerking motions and buttoned them. He pushed himself upright then scanned the area for the rest of his gear.
“Fucking great.” No shirt or boots. “At least they gave me back my pack.” He did a quick check and found his water supply still inside. By his estimation and internal clock, he’d been hanging in that cell for three days. Time to get going.
Chapter 8
Aimee patted her stomach. “I am full.”
“Me too, and I’m still trying to absorb your entire story. So, you say that you now have your own guardian? Let me see the necklace,” Bethany said.
She touched her neck then realized she’d forgotten to put it back on. “It must still be on my dresser. I took it off when I showered.”
Bethany rolled her eyes while she shook her head. “How is it supposed to protect you if you’re not wearing it?”
Aimee lifted her shoulders. “I’ll be fine for one night. Beside, I’m meeting Garret any minute, and I’m sure he’ll see me home safely.”
“Hmm, I’m sure he will. Speak of the handsome devil, here he comes now,” Bethany whispered.
Garret sidled up next to them. “Ladies, I hope I’m not interrupting?”
Her friend was quick to pull out a chair between them and patted the seat. “Not at all. Take a load off. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. So how the hell have you been?”
“Beth, it’s nice to see you. I’ve been real good. How ‘bout yourself?”
Aimee cringed, knowing how much her friend hated being called Beth. Apparently, Garret had either forgotten or intentionally wanted to piss Bethany off. She waited for the backlash.
Bethany flashed her sexiest smile. “I’ve been wonderful, thanks for asking.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “I’ll just go pay for my dinner and leave you two to get reacquainted.”
Garret raised his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Dinner is on me.”
“Why thanks, Garret. Free dinner and I didn’t even have to pretend I was going to fuck you for it.” Bethany slung her purse over her shoulder and sauntered off. Yep, there was the backlash, and Aimee had to hide her snicker behind her napkin.
“Sorry, but she hates being called Beth. I thought you might remember.”
The man across from her laughed. “I remembered, and I also recall her shitty attitude. The girl needs a lesson in manners.”
Aimee gave a nervous smile. She thought he was joking, but something about him didn’t sit well with her. Bethany was her best friend, and she didn’t take kindly to anyone insulting her. However, she’d let it slide for now.
Garret waved the waiter over. “Two coffees please, and I’ll take the check for the ladies’ dinner.”
“Coming right up, sir.”
Greydon had trekked over dunes and across a large expanse of black and gray sand. He’d fought several other creatures that he’d never seen before and was dead tired. Even though he had watched the suns dip into the horizon on two occasions, he still had no concept of how far he had travelled. He only hoped the three days spent in the cell hadn’t put him behind in reaching his final destination. Wherever the hell that was.
His body told him to rest again. While most of his wounds from his earlier beating had healed, there were still a few open sores. Perhaps taking a break would help his body finish mending itself.
He plopped down on the other side of a dune and watched the suns lower in the sky. While they would never completely set in this realm and bring the coolness of the dark, their intensity would diminish somewhat. He reached into his pack for a canteen of water and took a couple of sips. With two days left, he needed to ration with care.
His stomach rebelled in hunger, wanting food more than the plain water he drank. His taste buds wanted more of Aimee. He shoved his water back into his pack, disgusted with himself for even thinking of her. She was gone, and he did not intend to ever see her again.
Liar.
He leaned back against the sand and threw his arm over his eyes. His mind warred with itself over a woman, and he wondered what made her so special. After all, he was a prince, soon to be king. Once his people were rescued, there would be plenty females of his own kind who would be more than accommodating.
But they’re not her.
He snarled and tried to push her hazel eyes out of his mind. A brief nap might help; he slipped into the darkness, but only moments later jerked from his slumber.
“How did you get here?” He had to be dreaming.
Aimee looked around. “I have no clue. I was minding my own business, sitting on my couch reading a book, when I was suddenly zapped here.” Her gaze narrowed. “What the hell did you do to me this time?”
He pushed himself to a sitting position and couldn’t help noticing her attire. Some black frilly number that clung to her breasts then fell mid-thigh in a mass of lace. With the light angled as it was, he could see right through it. She had on no underwear.
His cock stirred. Fuck me! Yeah, he should have gotten laid before he’d taken this journey. Mistake number one. “You’re not real.”
&
nbsp; “What? Of course I’m real. Are you suffering from fever again?” She dropped to her knees and placed the backside of her hand on his forehead. “You feel hot.” She traced her fingers down his chest, letting them slip under the waistband of his jeans. “You need to get these off so I can cool you down.”
He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it refused to budge like the erection that pressed tight against his pants. He was positive he’d just discovered the meaning of blue balls.
She unbuttoned his jeans.
No, no! Please not this. I’ll take a thousand lashes to avoid this.
She freed his shaft of its confinement, and her palm wrapped around it. When she squeezed, a moan stuck in his throat behind the lump. Before he could shove her away, her tongue swirled imaginary lines around the head of his cock then sucked him to the back of her throat.
He shoved his fingers through her hair and groaned. Dear goddess, how far could he let this go before he failed the test? He tried to focus on his people. His brothers needed him, but it was difficult with her lips wrapped around his cock and working him into a frenzy. When she looked up at him, her hazel eyes filled with desire, he nearly lost it.
This is not real. They are tempting you with the one thing you want most.
“Stop!” Where the hell he found the strength to push her away was beyond him. She flicked out her tongue and moistened her lips, and his cock begged him to let her finish.
“You don’t like it?” She batted thick black lashes, pulled the nightie over her head then ran her hands across her breasts. “That’s okay, I can fuck you instead.”
He shot to his feet, zipped up his pants and grabbed his pack. There would be no sleep and certainly no sex with the beautiful Aimee. He needed to run for his life. If he didn’t, he would pin her to the ground and bury himself deep inside her. He would not only become the vilest of creatures, he would go back to the human world and find the real Aimee. The goddess only knew what his beast would do to her.
“Thanks for walking me home,” Aimee said as she stood on the sidewalk outside her building. She contemplated asking Garret inside but decided to wait for another time. While he was a nice guy, something about him wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was the fact she couldn’t get her mind off that damn demon.
“I wasn’t about to let you walk alone. Not with everything that’s been going on lately. Matter-of-fact, I’d like—”
“Hey, I need some help,” a guy yelled as he ran across the street. “An old lady just got robbed”
“Who would do such a thing?” Aimee asked.
Garret turned to her. “You get inside. I have to go.” Before she could respond, he ran down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
“I don’t understand what’s happening to the world when someone robs an elderly woman,” she mumbled, reaching for the handle on the entry door when a hand came over her mouth and something sharp pressed against her neck.
“If you struggle, I’ll slit your throat. Behave and I’ll let you live. Nod if you understand.” The voice whispered in her ear reminded her of a chain-smoker.
Her entire body shook and her heart beat furiously against her chest, but somehow she managed to move her head up and down.
“Smart girl. Now, we’re gonna go for a little drive.” He walked her backward several steps until they stood at the back end of a car. With the trunk lid open, she could see several rolls of duct tape scattered about. If he meant to bind her, then he’d have to let go with either the hand that covered her mouth or the one that had a knife to her neck. She’d take that opportunity to fight back and get away, then head in Garret’s direction.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he commanded and she slowly moved her arms.
“Fuck this,” shot out another voice that sounded even more sinister. Before she could register what was happening, her arms were nearly jerked from their sockets and the tape wound around her wrists. Apparently satisfied that she couldn’t move, he put a blindfold over her eyes and tape across her mouth.
Saliva pooled in her mouth and she swallowed hard to keep from vomiting as she was picked up and tossed. Her shoulder smashed against something hard and pain sliced through her. The sound of a slamming door indicated they had tossed her in the trunk. Seconds later, her body rolled from the force of a quick takeoff. She tried to wiggle her tightly bound hands, but couldn’t break free. Her body flew into the air and came back down hard; her head struck against something and pain shot behind her eyes. A warm stickiness dripped down her temple.
She fought to remain conscious, knowing she needed to find a way to get free. She cursed herself for forgetting the necklace on the dresser. Tears burned her cheeks as the sobs racked her body. She was in deep shit with no visible way out. It was doubtful that a handsome stranger would once again come to her rescue. No, she was on her own this time.
Chapter 9
Greydon stumbled through the sand, pissed at the world and sporting the worst erection ever. What he needed now was a fight. He prayed for one of the Concosa to show themselves right here, right now, in front of him. He didn’t have a weapon, but with his current mindset, he would tear the beast in half and bathe in its blood. His demon shifted under his skin in agreement.
Lightning flashed and a brewing storm darkened the sky. Thank god, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the suns beating down on him and frying him to a further crisp. Now if he could just reach the other side before they sent Aimee back to torture him, all would be good in his world.
Rain began to fall as a light sprinkle, and its coolness felt good along his hot flesh. “Finally some relief.” However, he knew he’d better enjoy it while he could because nothing in the Pits was ever meant to bring comfort. No sooner had that thought left his mind when the rain turned to sleet. Sharp needles of ice cut into him like tiny blades, and blood mingled with the frozen water. The shards came at him so hard, he stumbled and fell to the ground. With only a large expanse of black sand before him, he could now focus on his survival rather than his erection.
He pushed himself to his feet and battled the driving ice that pelted him. Adjusting his pack, he put his head down and moved into the biting wind. Every step forward felt more like three backwards. He prayed the wind would die down soon or it would take forever to reach his destination. Wherever the hell that was.
After what seemed like an hour of constant battle with the elements, the wind quieted and the sleet stopped. Thick, black clouds still filled the sky, but he welcomed anything to keep the suns off his back. He plopped down into the wet sand and grabbed his canteen from his pack. Taking a swig, the water washed down the sand that stuck to the back of his throat. After replacing the cap, he inspected his chest. Blood still coated his skin where the sleet had done its damage, but he was on the mend, even if slower than usual.
He bent his knees, rested his arms across them and then laid his forehead down. He wanted to close his eyes. He was so damn tired, but fear of what would invade his dreams kept him awake. Maybe he could simply rest for a few minutes before he continued.
A banshee scream shattered his peace. He jerked his head up to look at the horizon. Concosa circled him.
“Finally, you fuckers show up. Now that I am beat and bloody.”
Someone approached, so he jumped to his feet ready to fight. He tipped his head as the figure drew closer. It can’t be.
He wondered what kind of test would involve his missing brother, Zander. His little brother stopped in front of him with a sword in his hand.
“You have to choose,” Zander said.
“I don’t understand.” He didn’t like the feeling that crept into his gut. Nothing good would come of this.
“Listen up, Grey. This isn’t an illusion and Zolar is going to kill either me or Orien.” He turned to look to the west and Greydon followed his gaze.
His heart sank.
Orien was tied to a stake with wood and kindling stacked around him, and Zolar himself stood with a
fiery torch in his hand. The god threw his head back in a fit of laughter.
“Here, take this.” His brother shoved the sword at him. He hadn’t fought with a blade of this size in decades, and the weight of it felt awkward in his grip.
“I still don’t understand.”
Two Concosa stepped in on either side of his brother and grabbed him; they vanished before he could raise his blade. To the east, he saw them tying Zander to a stake identical to the one they had Orien tethered to. Demons stood by with a torch. Suddenly everything became clear. He had to fight his way to one brother and save him.
“No. I can’t choose between you.” He looked from left to right and tried to form a plan. There had to be a way out of this mess and save both men. Granted, this could be all part of another hallucination, but could he really believe anything that happened in the Pits? It was totally plausible that Zolar had brought his brothers here, and it was the perfect way to try and break him.
Sweat beaded on his temples as he looked over at Orien. He was four hundred and still had a hundred years before he would be sent to this hell and face his own Omagadona. Zander, on the other hand, was the baby at three hundred and fifty. He had five decades more than Orien before he had to come here. If Greydon wasn’t able to fulfill the Oracle’s prophecy, then which brother would? There had never been any mention of that, but he knew if he failed it was only logical one of his brothers would replace him.
Orien was an excellent warrior, but was he good enough to kill a god? Zander wasn’t as powerful as Orien or Greydon, but he still had time to learn and may hold other powers that had yet to manifest themselves. Greydon knew only that the Oracle had stated he was more likely to kill Zolar, release Uuna from her prison and bring his people back to their rightful home.
Taken By Desire: Demonic Desires Book 1 Page 6