by Dakota Trace
Chapter Four
“I want Dragos and Severa placed on the outer perimeter and have Lanston and Gervios patrol the inner courtyard. The next rotation will relieve you in two hours.” Standing in the foyer, Flannery gave the orders to his men on auto-pilot. He performed the duties which Bilé had tasked him with, while ignoring his hunger caused by the little banshee’s arousal. He was here for one purpose tonight, to assure the safety of not only Bilé but his guests as well.
The chorus of acknowledgment before his hand-picked squad left barely registered as another but different scent reached his sensitive faerie nose.
“What is it, Jansen?” He shifted to the left to allow the small ruby hued, fire demon to leap from the outcrop jutting out of the brimstone wall and onto his shoulder. Jansen’s golden eyes flickered with knowledge as his sharp talons picked at Flannery’s shirt as the mite scrambled towards his ear.
“A plot against you, Ma-ssster.” Jansen’s forked tongue teased his ear even as the heat rolling off it warmed Flannery’s skin.
Bloodlust boiled in his blood. His fists clenched as his berserker side tried to wrestle control away from him. “Explain.”
“The ban-ssshee’s mother and the High Lord plot to have Ma-sster impregnate the girl. They want Ma-ssster’-sss sss-eed to further Bile’-sss armie-sss. Sss-omething about a mating ritual...that Ma-ssster ha-sss to participate or die…”
A low rumble of thunder echoed through the foyer. “How?”
“By having Ma-ssster’-sss own brother poi-ssson Ma-ssster. Jan-sssen heard thi-sss after Ma-asster left the High Lord’-sss office.”
He closed his eyes as pain consumed his fury. He’d know of Bilé’s desire for his seed to strength his army, but the idea Kennet would poison him to help his father-in-law shook Flannery to his core. There’s no way he’d do it. He may be a prank loving fool, but he’d never hurt me. There has to be another explanation for this.
“Tell me exactly what was said, Jansen. You know my brother. Does he seem like he wants to hurt me?”
Jansen tongue flicked forward as he shook his head, the only show of his nervousness. “The High Lord sss-aid he’d given Flannery an aphordi-sssaic to place in your wine sss-kin to trigger the ritual.”
Flannery immediately grabbed the flask at his hip, pulling it up to for the fire demon to see. “This one, Jansen?”
“Ye-sss, Ma-ssster.”
Quick like the little lizard he resembled, Jansen scurried down Flannery’s arm to knock the flask from his hand. Catching the demon by his long tail, he stopped him. “Whoa, wait a second.” He sat down on the bench. “Let me show you something, Jansen.” Cupping his palm, he poured a bit into hand. “Smell.”
Jansen peered up at him before placing one of his very small hands in the puddle. Bringing it to his nose, he smelled before lapping at it.
“What do you smell? Taste?”
His tongue flickered out, his eyes dilating as the ambrosia hit his system. He began to tremble. “Wine and ambro-sssa, Ma-ssster.”
Smiling at Jansen, Flannery nodded. “Exactly. If my brother had laced this with anything harmful to me, I would’ve smelled it before I drank it. Besides you don’t to worry about the ritual, Jansen. The assero vel’abeo is nothing more than a made up excuse men give their women to get in their pants. I’m not going to die because of hard cock.”
A frown furrowed Jansen’s tiny brow. “But, Ma-ssster isss not effected by ambro-sssia like Jan-sssen?”
“No. I’m quite immune to it, other than the obvious erection which it gives me. Which my brother knows, so this plan of Bilé’s and Aislinn’s is moot. I control my dick, not the other way around.”
The little fire demon’s shoulders sank with relief despite the tremors racking his frame. “Thi-sss i-sss good, Ma-ssster.”
Flannery nodded, “Yes, it is.” He rubbed his finger over the top of Jansen’s head. Not that I won’t pay my brother back for attempting something as stupid as this. He knows better than to rile the berserker.
As Jansen continued to tremble, concern for his little demon had him reaching into his pocket. Fishing out a small piece of hard anise candy, he offered it to Jansen, knowing that his reward would also counteract the ambrosia.
Jansen grasped it with greedy paws, his talons clinging as the sound of his sharp teeth munching on it filled the foyer. Setting the fire demon back on the outcropping, he headed for the portal room. With his orders being followed it was time for him to head home. His men were the best and he’d had more than enough drama tonight.
* * * * *
Standing outside the dimly lit caretaker’s cottage which sat less than a thousand yards from Camulos’s main house, Braelyn pulled her wrap tighter around her. She hadn’t realized she’d be this close to the God of War’s home when she’d agree to this. It made her feel even more uncomfortable.
“Relax. Don’t worry about how close Dad’s house is. Unless something drastic happens and he thinks either Flan’s or my life’s could possibly be in danger, he leaves us alone, no matter what he hears.”
She glanced at Kennet, the last man she’d expected Bilé to choose as her escort, she shivered. The night air wasn’t cold but after spending the evening in the Underworld even one hundred degree weather would feel cool.
“Are you sure about this?” She tried to keep her apprehension from bleeding through her calm veneer. The last thing she needed was for Flannery’s brother to realize how uncertain she felt, especially after he’d told her he knew of her true purpose.
Kennet gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course. Don’t let my brother’s bite fool you. He’s a man like any other.” He quirked an eyebrow, “He’s almost as handsome as me.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Almost?”
“Yeah. Everyone knows I’m the charming, handsome one.” He shoved away from the tree he’d been leaning against. “Just ask me, I’ll tell you.” He leaned forward as if confiding in her. “My wife even agrees with me.”
She couldn’t help it. A bubble of laughter burst free. “You’re unbelievable, Kennet Baghadur.”
Chuckling, he guided her towards the cottage with a hand at her waist. “You have no idea.” Pausing outside the cottage, he stopped her. “Let me go in first. I’ll get the old man riled up for you.”
A nervous tremor shook her at the idea of Kennet stirring up his brother. “Are you sure it’s a good idea? He can be…” she paused, trying to think of a word to describe the seeming pleasure Flannery had gotten from his fight with Ramses. “…rather intense when he’s riled.”
A roar of laughter spilled from Kennet. Doubled-over, he shook until she moved forward to make sure he was okay. Straightening, he wiped his eyes. “Intense is a new one. My brother gets a good old-fashioned case of berserker rage every time he fights.”
She shrugged and shifted. “Still, angering him can’t be wise.” Stepping farther back into the shadows, she was tempted to flee. “Maybe I should come back later…” When I’m more in control of my feelings.
Kennet placed a comforting arm around her. “Hell no! He’s going to need a woman tonight, despite his protests. More importantly he’s going to need you.”
Frowning she shrugged off his arm. “Why do you say that?”
“A small gift from Bilé will assure that he’ll be quite ready to jump your bones, so to speak.” He flashed her a set of blinding white teeth. “Cantharis has been known to work wonders on human men. Imagine what it will do to someone like me or my brother?” Releasing her, he bounded up the porch steps. He threw a shit-eating grin over his shoulder. “I’d say you’re going to get the ride of your life. Now move your ass— I’ve got a hot woman waiting at home for me. It’s time to piss off the brother, so I can get home to her.”
Shaking her head, she trudged up the steps, holding the sheer shawl closely around her dress. She hadn’t even had time to change out of her party gown.
“Knock-knock, brother!” Kennet called out in a voice so misc
hievous, she was ready to deck him for Flannery. The man took too much pleasure in his brother’s discomfort. Opening the door without waiting for Flannery to answer, he boldly strode into the empty front room. “Yo, Flan! I brought you a gift!”
Stepping over the threshold, she took in the dark leather furniture in the center of the room. Set adjacent to the fireplace along one wall, two heavy wing-backed chairs were offset by an equally massive couch done in the same material. Behind the couch she saw a narrow pathway leading to a darkened hall, which she assumed led to the bedrooms. Definitely a bachelor’s pad. Nary a woman’s touch in sight.
Shutting the door behind her, she turned when she heard the muffled tread of feet. A half-naked man strode out of the hallway. Even with his shirt gone, it wasn’t Flannery’s heavily muscled chest that caught her attention and held it.
It was the dark pants he’d worn at the banquet. Undone and gaping at the waist, she could see the thick outline of his cock. But it was the exposed, glistening head nearly reaching his tattooed navel that had her breath coming fast from her throat. My gods, he’s huge. What have I gotten myself into?
A low growl accompanied a flash of lightning as Flannery crossed the room. A reciprocating boom of thunder came from Kennet. Evidently their father wasn’t the only one who could control thunder and lightning. The boys were showing off to each other, and frankly she wasn’t sure who would be the winner.
“You have two seconds to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing when you slipped ambrosia in my drink, asshole, before I make Jasmyn a widow.” Flannery’s fist shot out to gather up a handful of Kennet’s shirt. “I’ve had a fucking hard-on for the past two hours, ever since I saw that damn banshee and your stunt hasn’t helped matters…”
“Aw, poor Flan.” Kennet patted his brother’s shoulder. “No worries, I brought you the woman of your dreams—she’s even a banshee. I’m sure she’ll be able to satisfy you before the twenty-four hours are up.” He tipped his head before taking a quick glance down at his brother’s cock. “But then again judging by the size of that hard-on, the ambrosia is having a stronger interaction with the cantharis Bilé gave me than I expected. But if you’re still hard after fucking her for a couple of hours, I’d call Dr…”
“Cantharis! You actually added Spanish Fly to my wine?” Flannery’s voice boomed through the room.
Braelyn gasped when Flannery drew his free arm back. Kennet’s head straightened up just in time to catch his brother’s fist square in the chin.
Chapter Five
“Unbelievable.” Braelyn crossed her arms over her chest as Flannery knocked his brother to his knees with a well-placed blow. What had started out as a simple ‘brother decking brother’ had evolved to a full brawl. For the second time in one night, she was subjected to a fistfight – but at least this time she didn’t freeze. “You two are idiots…fighting like a couple of school boys. Ridiculous.” She jumped out of the way when Kennet staggered away from Flannery with a chuckle.
“Is that all you got, little brother?” Kennet’s wheezy taunt had her shaking her head. How can he keep taunting him? Is he suicidal? Deciding she’d had enough of the bickering, she looked around for something to break them up. An idea formed in her head. Hmmm, if it works for the toms at home, maybe…
Skirting around the brawling men, she headed for the small kitchenette. Rummaging under the sink, she found a pail. Filling it with ice-cold water, she listened to the continued grunts and thuds of flesh hitting on flesh. When it finished filling, she lifted it out of the sink.
Stepping back into the room, she sidestepped a broken shelf. “Destructive men.” She tsked under her breath as Flannery flew across the room, hitting the wall next to her from a well-placed kick. Sprawled on his back in the center of the room on the overturned sofa, Kennet sprung to his feet, his face red with exertion, his mocking smile now gone.
“I swear I’m gonna kick your prank-lovin’ ass...” Flannery lunged back towards his brother, and with a sigh, she let the water fly. He stumbled to a stop, shock radiating off him. Water ran down his face and hair to stream in rivulets over his bare chest and down into the parted waistband of his pants. Shockingly enough, he was still hard. Her tongue edged out between her lips as the idea of licking away the water teased her.
“What the fuck!” His blue eyes narrowed on her. “What the hell did you do that for?” The snarl dragged her eyes up from his groin.
She gave him a shrug. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. It works on the toms at home, so—”
“Unbelievable!” He raked a hand through his wet hair. “Get out! Both of you.”
Kennet held his hands up. “I’m leaving, I swear.” He stooped and righted the couch, returning it to its original position. “But I’d think twice about ordering her away.” He nodded towards her. “She may just be the one.”
A disbelieving laugh escaped Flannery. “Like I believe in that nonsense Dad told you. Assero vel’abeo, my ass. There’ll never be a woman who’ll drive me as insane as Jasmyn did to you. It’s just some bullshit he made up to get you and Jasmyn together. I control my body, not some damn mating ritual.”
Kennet smirked. “You just keep thinking that, Flan. You may not have two separate voices in your head demanding you claim your TrueMate, but you sure as hell have the instincts.” After righting the stand, he clapped a hand over Flannery’s shoulder. “And I’m almost certain that they’re screaming that she’s yours.”
“Not even close.” He nodded towards her. “I’ll admit she’s attractive but even the Pope would be able to see the innocence radiating off her.” Shrugging off Kennet’s hand, he glared at her. “You’re the last woman I’d take to bed.” When her shoulders slumped, his eyes softened. “I’m sorry, little one, but the things I need would be…too much for an innocent— especially one of your nature. Not to mention your god-father would kill me, despite what he says.”
Tears burned at her eyes. If he’d blustered a bit more, she’d have taken in stride and continue with her plan, but his gentle words would’ve nearly undone her if they hadn’t pissed her off. She was no seductress, but it didn’t mean she was pathetic.
“So it’s my innocence you protest?”
He gave a brisk nod.
“And if I were to tell you I wasn’t a virgin, then would you take me into your bed?”
His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. At his side, his fists clenched. “No.”
Observing his reaction, she moved to the sofa, smoothed her skirts out, and sat down on the edge. Perhaps instead of using seduction, the same tempting logics she used when soul gathering, would work better. “Then explain it to me. If it’s not my innocence that has you saying nay, then what is it? This thing you think I’m incapable of giving? Is it chains or whips? Or do you wish to bind me to your bed to paddle me as you insinuated earlier?” She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’d let you.” She let her breathing become raspier. “Gods, would I let you.”
He took a step forward but froze with a low moan. She barely caught the movement of his brother leaving the room. She was sure he hadn’t heard the soft snick of the door closing behind Kennet. His attention was too focused on her. “What do you know of bondage, little girl? Of pleasure so intense it borders on pain?”
Her eyes met his. She could see the need she was sure was reflected in her own. “Nothing yet.”
His expression grew closed and he turned from her. Panic consumed her as he moved towards the hallway.
* * * * *
Flannery had to get away from the tempting baggage in his living room. She was so close to being what he wanted, still he couldn’t in good conscience take her. She’s a Banshee and sure as the sun rises, if I get her in my ropes, I’ll have the fire cups out and on her before she can protest. He paused but firmed his resolve at the sharp catch of her breath. It didn’t matter if she cried or not, he couldn’t give in.
“It’s better this way, Braelyn. Return to Bilé and tel
l him you failed. I’ll see to it that he doesn’t punish you.” As he said the words, he knew he meant them. He’d go to war with the God of the Underworld himself if the man thought to harm a hair on Braelyn’s head. It’s not her fault she can’t give me what I need. He’s a fool to think that a Banshee would ever allow me to do such a wicked thing to her.
Behind him, he could feel her surprise by the way she quieted. A sudden tension filled the room. It was obvious she hadn’t realized that he knew everything that went on in the palace, including what happened behind Bilé’s closed doors. He wouldn’t have been a good Captain of the Guard, if he hadn’t. “You know about that?”
He sighed and turned to face her. “Of course. You’ll find there isn’t much that happens in the Underworld I’m not aware of. And even while I can understand Bilé’s reasoning, I won’t father a babe on you, only to have it belong to Bilé after it matures.”
Her expression sank, but she kept her head high. “You know about that too?”
Why is it always a surprise when I know more than they expect? He was tempted to comfort her, but knew that it was the worst thing he could possibly do under the circumstances. “I can do nothing about the fact that every banshee and demon is required to serve Bilé for a period of two hundred years upon their maturity, but I’ll be damned if a son or daughter of mine will have that fate.” He looked her up and down.
“You’re what? Twenty-five? How many more years do you have left in your servitude?” If he’d expected her to recoil, he was surprised when she met his eyes head on.
“As many as I want, Mr. Baghadur. My servitude was up over eighty years ago.”
He gaped at her. “You’re over two hundred years old?”
“Two hundred and eighty-three to be exact. It seems as if you’re the young one in this equation.”
His stared at her intently. “How is that you’re so innocent-looking? Hell, I can even smell your untried desire. You have to be lying.”
A bemused smile touched her lips. “No, it’s you who’s lying. No god can smell desire. Only those who possess demon or…”