by Tawny Taylor
Bastien looked as stumped as she felt. “If we could get Kieran and Xander back here, together, we could all travel back through. The portal will be closed once we’ve all returned, but it won’t lock out this location until your claiming is complete.”
“And what if I refuse?”
He gave her one of those you-don’t-really-need-to-ask looks.
“Great. Fabulous. Absolutely freaking wonderful!” She plopped on her bed and dropped her head into her hands.
Thanks to one stupid knight who was evidently after a little glory -- or whatever -- she was facing an impossible decision. Her life as she knew it, her job, her home, her freedom for a future of empty -- but pleasurable -- submission.
She could smack Kieran right now. Kick him in the balls and inflict some serious damage to his dangly bits. In fact, that was a really good idea. She’d do that as soon as he was within range.
“It won’t be that bad.” Bastien sounded injured, not to mention breathless. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear the pounding of his feet on the floor as he hurried from one side of the room to the other. “Your pleasure will always come first.”
“Yeah. That’s just fine. It’s the whole no-job, no-freedom, no-independence thing I’m having a hard time swallowing. No offense, but not every girl wants to be swept off her feet and locked in a tower, no matter how pretty said tower might be, or how sexy her guards are either.”
He dropped on his knees in front of her and gently gathered her hands into his. “There’s no other way to protect Alyria. I wish there was. And even if we can find Xander -- I have no idea where he went -- we’re still up for some trouble the next time the portal opens.”
She glanced at the book, sitting on her nightstand. “What about the book? What if we destroyed it? Will it at least close the portal from here?”
“I don’t know.”
“The book…” Had the story she’d read changed since she’d gone to Alyria? What about the ending? She pulled her hands free and crawled across the bed. “I’m wondering…”
“Good thinking!” Bastien jumped to his feet at the sharp echo of something hard striking the front door.
She jumped at the second bang. “Ack!”
“I’m going to have to sneak out and find Xander.”
Her hands trembled as she flipped pages, making her drop the book twice before she found the last chapter. “There’s only one door.” She skimmed the first few sentences. Oh, something was different.
“True. But there are plenty of windows.”
She glanced up, finding Bastien, stripped nude, standing next to her bedroom window. He had the shades drawn up and the window wide open. “Tell me you aren’t going to change into a tiger and run around my apartment complex. Someone’ll shoot you or throw you in the zoo.”
“It’s the only way to get out of here.”
“What’ll I do if they get in?”
“I’ll be right back. I doubt Xander went far, but if I can’t find him, I’ll come right back. Promise.”
With that, and a sweet brush of his mouth over hers, he shifted and leapt through the open window. She leaned out, watching him land with feline grace in the snow and disappear.
Alone. With an army of cops outside. The pounding was growing more urgent, separated by bouts of silence and a male voice shouting her name.
Making sure to stay out of sight, she ran through the living room to check the door. So far the bolt was holding. Then again, she doubted it had truly been tested yet.
What to do? Stay silent, and wait for them to bash in the door? Or let them know she was here and safe, and see if she could hold them off? She was safe. They couldn’t claim to be rescuing her if she said she was okay. And she had rights. They couldn’t come busting in if she’d done nothing illegal. That was the law. This was the United States of America. The book clutched to her chest, she shouted in a sing-songy voice, “Who’s there?”
“Police, open up.”
“Police?” she echoed. “I didn’t call the police.”
“Open the door.”
She peered through the peephole. “No. How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
A very authentic-looking badge appeared in front of the peephole. “Open the door.”
“Yeah, well, everything is fine. I didn’t call the police and I don’t need rescuing. What do you want?”
“We just want to talk to you, make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. I swear. What makes you think I’m not?” She glanced out the window. When she caught sight of a policeman staring at her through the window, she waved him away, motioning around the empty room. What did they think was going on?
The knocking on her front door resumed. “Miss Dunning? I need you to open the door. Miss Dunning!”
She looked outside again. There were several police and fire vehicles parked out front.
Fuck. She wasn’t going to talk her way out of a search. Not a chance.
Having no clue what to do next, she sat in a chair beside the front door and, blurting responses to the man outside, started skimming the final chapter of Xander and Bastien’s book again. It began where they’d returned to her home, precisely chronicling the events that had occurred up to this point.
Cool! Maybe it would be as simple as reading the story and doing what it said. After all, everyone knew romances always ended with a happily-ever-after, whatever that might be for the characters.
The shouting stopped. Silence.
That couldn’t be good.
She frantically tried to concentrate on the words on the page but it was really hard, knowing that most likely within seconds a crowd would come barreling through the door, guns pointed at her.
Read! Concentrate! Shit, shit, shit!
There was no other way. She would lose Bastien and Xander forever, but at least the portal would be secured for now. She ran to the kitchen, threw the book in the sink, wadded several newspapers around it, and lit the match. Her heart ached as she watched the flame slowly work its way down the strip of cardboard. Could she do it? Could she sacrifice her life for the welfare of Alyria and the Twelfth Knights?
Would she die if the book burned up?
Oh hell!
Did she have any choice? At least they’d all be safe.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
A shot rang through the silence.
Time’s up.
She leapt to her feet, and after scooping up a handful of newspapers, raced to the kitchen. She dropped the book in the sink, balled up the papers and then fumbled through the drawer for the matches. Her hands trembled as she struck the match. She hesitated for a second, the wavering flame dancing in front of her. This could very well be the end of her life, or at least the end of her life with Xander and Bastien. Her heart hurt. Her belly twisted into a tight knot. Eyes burning, she released the match, whispering one word, “Freedom.”
A split second later, about the time she expected to drop dead from magic, the rending of wood signaled the arrival of her unwelcome guests. Heavy footsteps pounded through the living room. A couple armed men rounded the corner and leveled their weapons on her.
One of them pointed at the smoke billowing from the sink. “Fire!”
Instinctively, Maggie dropped to the floor. A cop leapt over her and cranked on the water, dousing the flame, then caught her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. “This way, Miss Dunning.”
So much for her fears of instantaneous death.
Screaming her objections at the top of her lungs, she dug in her heels, fighting the cop’s effort to remove her from her home. “You have no right! I’ve done nothing wrong! What do you think you’re doing? Get your hands off me! Ouch! You’re hurting me!” But she knew enough to recognize when the battle had been lost. Defeated, and scared, she threw up the virtual white flag and surrendered, allowing the cop to escort her outside, her eyes searching the crowd for Xander, Bastien or even Kieran.
Where were they? Had the fire sent th
em back to Alyria? Was the portal closed?
Suddenly lacking the strength to remain standing, she sank to the snow-covered ground and hid her face in her hands. She was so caught up in tangled and confusing emotions, she barely noticed when someone draped a heavy wool blanket over her shoulders.
All around her, chaos continued, while she sat alone, blindly staring at the snow.
She’d thought all this time, since Jack had died, she’d put it behind her -- the pain of her past. That she’d taken a hold of her life, that Jack couldn’t hurt her anymore. But now, sitting there, her insides aching, she knew she’d been fooling herself. Even six feet below, he could hurt her. Or more specifically, the fears and insecurities he’d branded into her soul had hurt her. By making it impossible for her to accept a life in Alyria.
Would she ever completely heal?
She swept her gaze across the crowd, not expecting to see her Masters. Once the book had started burning, she’d sensed a separation from them. They were gone, and she missed them, the way they looked at her, touched her, the way she felt when she was with them.
If only things could have been different. If only she’d had more time. Or their world hadn’t demanded her complete submission. She simply wasn’t capable of that yet.
As she feared, the life she’d been so contented with seemed bleak and empty to her now. Knowing the joy that came from having two wonderful, powerful, sexy and amazing men love her -- oh yes, she had no doubt they loved her -- meant the loss was absolute agony.
She closed her eyes.
Years ago, there’d been only one way to deal with pain this excruciating. Cut herself off from it, from all emotion. She visualized the pain, a whirling ball of sapphire flame. And then she imagined herself retreating into the secret place, dark and safe, her sanctuary where the flames couldn’t reach her.
“Why couldn’t you stay here with me? In this world?” she muttered aloud. “Let me learn to love and trust at my own pace?”
“Excuse me, Miss Dunning?” a familiar voice whispered.
The blue ball flared, searing her insides. Xander? She opened her eyes and she swallowed a sob, pressing her hands over her mouth.
Xander. Bastien. They were both dressed in firemen’s uniforms. Both smiling. “It’s safe to return to your home now.” Bastien helped her to her feet.
She briefly wondered if they remembered her, or whether they’d forgotten everything when the book burned. But then Xander pulled the mask off his face and leaned closer. “This is your story now. Your happily-ever-after.”
She wrapped her arms around the waists of her Dynamic Duo and, tears flowing freely, thanked them. For although they hadn’t said a word about Kieran or Alyria, she had no doubt they’d faced a difficult choice as well, a decision that had most likely forced them to sacrifice something important. “Just tell me Alyria is okay. That nothing is going to happen to your world.”
“Hey,” Bastien said, his eyes glittering as he swept her into a tight embrace. “It wouldn’t be a happily-ever-after if it wasn’t.”
“Kieran’s back where he should be. Bastien ‘borrowed’ these uniforms. Because we were dressed like the others, no one stopped to question us. We escorted Kieran back through the portal and finished destroying the book. The danger’s over. For now. Then again,” Xander added, pressing into her from behind, “Who’s to say what’s going to happen when it opens for the next bride. We have at least a few weeks before the next full moon. Bastien and I have some work to do -- to make sure the next pair of knights who pass through the portal are safe. But we don’t have to get started until tomorrow. So, how about we go take advantage of the free time?”
“What about the claiming?” Her knees buckling, she let Xander sweep her into his arms. She hooked an arm around his neck.
Safe. Cherished. Adored. By two powerful yet kind and gentle lovers.
Xander carted her past the police cars, fire trucks and curious onlookers, into the building. “There’s no need to complete the claiming here, in your world. Only in Alyria. And we’ll only go back if you decide you want to.”
Once inside her cozy little apartment, her sanctuary, the Dynamic Duo fixed the door, then proceeded to show her precisely how happily-ever-after they intended to make the rest of her life, in Michigan or Alyria.
Tomorrow, she decided, she’d head to the bookstore to buy another copy of their story, Conquered by the Knight. She had an inkling how this story was going to end, but she couldn’t wait to read it and find out if she was right.
Passion Unbound2: Wicked Nights
Tawny Taylor
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Tawny Taylor
Chapter 1
This wasn’t just a game anymore. No longer just a quest for a scorching orgasm or even a teasing cat and mouse chase. Her domineering knights, Cy and Maks, were determined to force her to her knees any way they could. That realization made her shudder.
Cy captured her wrists in his huge fists and forced them out to the side, walking her backward until she was literally crushed between his powerful body and the cold stone wall. She shivered as his erect cock branded her flesh, his lethal-sharp gaze pierced her eyes. He kicked her feet apart, widening her stance and she nearly melted to the floor.
She’d never imagined it would be this way, being dominated by two powerful men. A delicious, terrifying, wicked thrill.
Cheryl Witte dragged in a slow, deep breath. Could she do this? Oh God.
A freelance writer who had spent the past several years looking for her big chance, she’d been chasing a hot story for months. A phenomenal one that would blow apart the current view of the world.
If only she had proof.
She’d been so close last month, with that scene in the apartment building. So fucking close she could taste it. But someone had called the police and she wasn’t able to get a look before it was too late.
Thank God for anonymous sources!
She was right now staring at the key to her future. Once she had proof, it wouldn’t be the fucking Globe buying her story, it would be Time. Discovery. The New York Times.
And this girl would finally be someone.
But what a risk she’d have to take. Huge. Maybe even greater than a trip to the worst war-torn regions on earth. She was about to open the door to another dimension, to invite two dangerous men into her home where she would trap them.
They were so strong. Brutal. Scary. And yes, sexy too. But that didn’t even begin to make up for the horrible things their people had done to women all these years. Snatching them out of their beds in the middle of the night and forcing them into an empty life of subservience, basically making them their sex slaves.
Savages.
If anything went wrong tonight… shit, she couldn’t even allow herself to think about that right now.
She checked the equipment one last time. Video cameras focused on each wall. Check. Audio recorder. Check. Preloaded syringes with a tranquilizer that was both safe and powerful enough to knock a three hundred pound man out for at least a couple of hours. Check. That last thing was not the easiest thing to come by.
This would be the story of the millennium. She could not wimp out.
She glanced out the window. Full moon. One last chance to change her mind. Do this now or wait a month?
She’d gone through such hell to get ready for this. It had to be now, even though she was absolutely petrified and alone. She hadn’t been able to trust anyone to be there with her, to watch her back, just in case something went wrong.
Wouldn’t it be her luck that she’d end up kidnapped by the bastards and dragged into their world, only to have her story hit huge while she was gone?
Hands trembling, she unwrapped the sterile lance she’d bought at the medical supply store. A drop of blood was needed. On the book’s pages. While she read the scene in the story where the heroine pleads for the beasts to come for her. That was what her source had told her.
She
flipped back to the beginning, found the page. Skimmed.
Here.
If only she could find real men like Cy and Maks. Men who knew who they were, and had the personal strength to give her what she’d been searching for all her life. Weren’t intimidated by her independence and strong will. And who deserved her unwavering trust.
That did sound nice. Too bad it didn’t really happen that way. Cheryl poked her fingertip with the lance and watched three round droplets strike the page. “Where are you, Cy and Maksim? Please, please come to me.”
Nothing. Silence.
She glanced around the room, expecting some kind of… something… to happen. The air to ripple and spark. Two men to come jumping out of the walls, charging at her like pissed off rhinos.
She dropped the book and scooted up to the head of the bed until her spine ground painfully into the headboard. Her fingers curled around the syringes, tighter. She was ready. Terrified but ready.
Her heart was kicking against her breastbone like a kangaroo trying to break out of a cage. She glanced out the window again. Yes, it was the full moon. It was early still, just a little after six in the evening. The moon would be shining for the next fifteen hours. That meant her knights from another dimension could come rushing into her room at any time.
Any time now.
Yep, at any minute.
Sigh. She was in for a looooong night.
At least she was prepared. Lots of chocolate. Caffeine in the form of diet cola. She’d be wired, but at least she wouldn’t fall asleep.
As minutes and then hours slowly ticked by, her breathing regulated. Her heart stopped trying to hammer its way out of her chest. But she didn’t loosen her grip on those syringes. Nor did she let herself become distracted by the half-read book lying on her bed or her favorite television show, which was on tonight. The dangers of her being caught off-guard were too great.
A handful of hours later, she had a whole new appreciation for detectives and their ilk. To sit around waiting for something to happen was tedious. Boooring. Exhausting. Especially when there was no guarantee that anything would happen at all.