by Tawny Taylor
She knew for a fact that the Twelfth Knight Brotherhood was real. And those women had all disappeared, without leaving a single clue behind. It was as if they’d literally vanished into thin air. Only one woman that she knew of had managed to return. That woman, Maggie Dunning, was living like nothing had ever happened. The only difference being, the lucky girl now had two gorgeous live-in boyfriends who, unfortunately for Cheryl, seemed one hundred percent human.
That hadn’t discouraged Cheryl. She was just going to have to try harder.
Her only doubt now was whether or not she’d gotten the summoning spell right. If her anonymous tipster had left out a significant detail, there was a chance she’d be sitting here tomorrow morning, sleep deprived and caffeine OD’d, and still lacking the evidence she wanted so badly.
More hours ticked by, and the effects of her uber doses of caffeine made her feel sick. She stopped all consumption of the stimulant. There truly were some bad side effects to caffeine.
More hours passed, and she began to believe the worst. She’d missed something. The spell hadn’t worked. Her body was unwinding from the effects of her caffeine overdose. Her eyes growing bleary. Her head clouding with exhaustion. She was the world’s worst investigative reporter. How would she ever make a name for herself if she couldn’t stay awake one stupid night?
At daybreak, she finally succumbed to her body’s demand for sleep. Her dreams were filled with images of burly men with sexy sneers and hot I’m-going-to-get-you gazes.
This sucked. How the heck would she figure out where she’d gone wrong before the next full moon?
* * *
Hands. Male. On her body. Her breasts. Her stomach. Her arms. Between her legs. Oh God, this was the world’s best dream.
Cheryl sighed. And then screamed. She wasn’t dreaming.
What the hell?
She jackknifed up, knocking away the appendages of two huge, hulking behemoths, and lunged for the syringes, sitting on her nightstand. But before she had them in her hands, one of the beasts sent them sailing across the room with a lightning-quick sweep of his arm.
No man that large should be able to move that quickly.
Shit! She was in trouble!
She logrolled across the bed, missing a full body tackle by sheer luck and hit the wood floor with a painful thud. Gasping for breath and blindly fighting for her life, she followed instinct, scuttling across the floor toward the door. Long before she reached it, the weight of a hundred elephants (or so it felt) landed on top of her.
Wheeze.
Couldn’t breathe.
She was done.
The only thought that comforted her was knowing that the cameras were catching everything. No other woman would be put through this hell. She’d feel even better if she could get a single gulp of air into her lungs.
She wormed and struggled until the lack of oxygen took its toll and she had nothing left. Finally, her body heavy, she relinquished. The darkness was closing in, so soothing, like a cloud of lavender scented air.
But then a crash, followed by three more, filled the room. Horrified, she blinked open her eyes to spy the shattered remains of one of the digital video cameras, lying less than three feet from her face. Fuck! Those bastards had not just destroyed her proof.
She was about to try to mutter an expletive or two when more loud noises cut her off. Men’s voices, shouting, furniture splintering, filled the room.
What the hell? Had someone tipped off the police?
One of them got practically nose-to-nose with her, firing shotgun-style questions about her anonymous source. She simply kept her mouth clamped shut, refusing to say a word. Not that she knew anything anyway, but even if she did, she wouldn’t talk. Didn’t have to talk. No one had broken any laws, at least none that she knew of. “Does anyone else know about the Twelfth Knights? Have you told anyone else?”
“No, not yet. I didn’t trust anyone. I was trying to get some proof --”
“Enough! It doesn’t matter anymore,” the man pinning her to the ground shouted, dragging her to her feet. “She’s coming with us. No one can use her anymore. That’s the end of it.” She was hauled across the room, toward the shimmering patch that had appeared in the wall.
The portal.
She glanced back, catching the retreating backs of three men as they raced out of her bedroom and down the hall. And then the bizarre tingling over her skin reminded her she was about to be dragged into a dangerous foreign world, where men who were little more than monsters held women captive against their will.
Somehow she found the strength to fight against her captor. She kicked as hard as she could at his legs, knees, groin. She wildly thrashed about. He had one thick arm wrapped around her torso, just below the breasts so that her back was pressed against his thick bulk. That gave her a firsthand (horrifying!) view of the world beyond.
Oh God! It was worse than she ever would have guessed.
The room they entered was dark and eerie and reminded her of a movie set from some kind of historical horror flick. She half expected a hunched-over dwarf to come hobbling through the door at any moment.
Behind her, she knew the gateway to her home and the life she loved was retreating fast. The devil who had her was moving quickly across the room, through a door and down a corridor. Not once did he speak. Not once did he offer her any show of comfort. He just hauled her like a piece of property through the medieval looking building made out of cold stone blocks. Down one corridor after another. It was like a freaking maze.
Finally -- finally! -- he stopped, but only long enough to unlock a heavy wooden door and shove her inside a dark, ugly cell.
She stumbled forward, lurched around to give him hell. But she only got out the word “You --” before he slammed the door and headed for parts unknown.
Chapter 2
“You caught us unprepared before, but we were ready for you this time.” Twelfth Knight Security Chief Xander Kendrick shoved Kieran Truax through the door so hard Kieran lost his footing, flipping backward over a chair. He landed with a heavy “oof,” stared up at the furious Xander. “What the hell, Kieran? What are you thinking?”
The prisoner remained silent.
“You’re going to rot in jail for a millennium for this.” Cy Parnell stepped up beside his superior, Xander, worried for the first time that the normally levelheaded man might be tempted to do something crazy, like stop Kieran’s clock for good.
Not that he blamed the security chief. Shit, Kieran’s antics had come damn close to putting all of Alyria in jeopardy.
He was just glad it was over now. Kieran was caught and he wouldn’t be able to try something again. They could head back to Alyria with their prisoner, close the portal, and he would get on with more important things -- like training his new bride.
He’d barely had a chance to look at her before Kieran had come flying through the portal. Xander and his bound mate, Bastien Lennox, had come barreling through the bedroom door. Xander and Bastien had been the very first Twelfth Knights to remain on this side of the portal in history. Their bride had destroyed their book, sealing the portal so they could safely remain.
Fortunately, Xander had somehow discovered a way to communicate with Cy using the humans’ Internet. He’d been working on the project before they’d taken their bride back to her world. Cy doubted his superior had ever imagined the new cyber connection he’d created would be used for such a purpose, but it had been a damn good thing it was there. Cy had been able to inform Xander ahead of time, letting him know who the next Knights would be to cross over into the human world and, most importantly, the identity of the bride.
“You sure you don’t want to come back to Alyria with us? We can wait a little while if you want to go get your bride.” Cy motioned to Kieran and Maks.
Xander shook his head. “No. I think it’s a good idea having a couple of Knights on this side of the portal. Just make sure you let me know where it’ll be opening next.”
Cy shoved Kieran over onto his stomach and, with a foot between the shoulder blades, secured his wrists. “This bastard’s the only one who has ever tried to fuck over the Twelfth Knight Brotherhood. Now that we have him, I don’t think there’s much you need to do over here anymore.”
“That’s okay,” Xander said. “We’re staying.”
Well, that was a fucking mystery, but what the hell. The human world was filthy, polluted, and noisy. The toxins would quickly affect any Knights who remained, cutting their lifespan short by as much as ninety percent. But Cy knew his former superior understood the risks and was willing to live with them. “Okay.” Cy hauled Kieran to his feet and tipped his head toward the portal. “Ready, Maks?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to be gone this long. From the looks of things, our bride’s going to be a handful.”
Shit, like he wanted to hear that. Cy tightened his grip on Kieran’s arms, not wanting to lose the guy when they passed through the portal. “Oh yeah?”
Why couldn’t he have gotten a sweet and submissive bride? It was bad enough that he’d be forced to share her with Maksim Sokur, entrepreneur and overall pain in the ass. She was going to be trouble too?
Fuck.
Whereas he was down to earth, a regular kind of guy, who’d lived an average kind of life, Maks was the guy who’d had everything handed to him. His world was so foreign to Cy, and the other way around, Cy had no idea how this thing was going to work out.
Now, his doubts were mounting.
Bound to a difficult woman and a man he didn’t even like. What the hell had he done to piss off the goddess?
* * *
They were back, and this time they wouldn’t catch her off guard. Cheryl stood with her back pressed against the cold stone wall next to the door, every muscle in her body pulled into a tight knot.
All she had to do was find her way through that maze of identical corridors to that magical portal thingy and go home. Her chances of making history by recording the unbelievable were pretty much shattered. Those two jerks had made sure of that. The least she could do was spare herself the misery of living in this godforsaken place for the rest of her life, being a sex slave to a couple of Neanderthals.
Ready…
The door swung open.
Set…
She sucked in a deep breath.
Go!
She simultaneously spun around and, eyes focused on the first crotch to make it through the door, kicked.
A dark blurry shadow passed over her eyes and next thing she knew it, she was flat on her back, on the floor, a heavy male body holding her down.
Ugh. Wheeze again.
These guys were wicked fast, like impossibly fast. She hadn’t even seen them coming.
Oh yeah, that was because they weren’t normal men. They were… um… why couldn’t she remember? Not normal. No. They were some kind of creature of the darkness. Vampires? Maybe. Or had they been shapeshifters?
At least she still remembered their names from the book. One was Cy and the other was… Mark. No, that wasn’t right. It was a strange name, one she had only heard once before.
Oh yeah. Maksim. Just like her favorite dancer on Dancing with the Stars. And like the dancer, this guy had the dark, slightly wicked good looks she went crazy for.
Would they let her breathe?
“I think it’s okay to get up now,” one of them said. She wondered which one was which.
Yeah. It’s okay to get up now. She would’ve told them as much, if she could actually speak.
Finally the weight lifted, but only slightly. The beast on top of her levered his upper body off hers and glared down at her. “I told you she was a handful.”
“Hello, I’m right here. Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to talk about someone like they’re not in the room?” She shoved at his chest.
“No.” He caught her hands in his fists and forced them up and out. He leaned down, until his nose was nearly touching hers. A bizarre jolt of… something… shot through her body.
What the hell was up with that?
“Let me up,” she demanded, pretending like she didn’t care that she was in no position to demand anything.
“No.”
Grr! “Please. You’re hurting me.”
“You tried to hurt me,” the beast on top of her coolly pointed out.
“You kidnapped me. What do you expect?” she shot back. “For me to be all happy and grateful? I’m terrified, you big moron.”
“You’re not acting like you’re scared. You’re acting like you’re angry.” He lifted his face, and she focused on the adorable cleft in his chin. “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet?” she mocked, cranking up the sarcasm. “How thoughtful of you. To be so worried that I might break a nail or something. Never mind the fact that you’re so freaking heavy, you might have broken a few of my ribs. Maybe collapsed a lung too.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” The other guy -- who happened to be standing close by, looking highly amused -- tapped her attacker on the shoulder.
“Okay. But there’s no saying what she’ll do.”
“The door’s locked. She can’t go anywhere, and you and I both know she can’t hurt us.”
Hah, that’s what he thinks. “I promise, I’ll behave myself.” For now.
In less than a blink, the man was off her.
Once again, she was disorientated. How could anyone move so quickly?
She scrambled to her feet, brushed herself off, made an attempt at smoothing her hair down, while trying to think her way out of this horrible situation. She’d gotten herself in this by underestimating the strength of her would-be assailants. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
How would she get herself out?
Now, she wished she’d taken the time to read the rest of the book. She had never enjoyed a book more -- but she didn’t know how the story ended. The details of what she had read were already fading from her memory, but she remembered the sex scenes had been juicy enough to make her squirm… and pull out the vibrator for a little relief. She’d read other erotic stories, and some of them had made her a little warm. But that one -- Cy and Maksim’s story -- nuclear reactor hot.
Maybe that was why her skin was still tingling where her kidnapper’s body had been touching hers. From about waist down, she was a tingly, hot, quivering mess. And the heat down there was making her brain malfunction. She couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but those two gorgeous males for more than a handful of seconds.
She swore they’d slipped her some kind of aphrodisiac. Or maybe they’d sprayed something on themselves? Whatever. It was working.
She cupped her hands over her face.
The one who hadn’t tackled her stepped closer. “I am Cy, your Master. You summoned me and your second Master, Maksim, and we have brought you to our home to take you as our bride. Tonight --”
Tonight? Ack!
Somehow, she had to convince these guys that there’d been a mistake. She wasn’t bride material. “Hold up. Er, I’ve changed my mind. No, this was a big mistake, and I’m sorry -- nothing personal -- but I would make the world’s worst bride and an even worse sex slave. I’d like you to take me home now.”
“Sorry. Can’t do that.” Maksim didn’t look sorry. “When you spoke the summoning spell, you bound yourself to us. Forever.”
Forever, forever? As in… for always?
“Well, that sucks.” Suddenly not feeling well, she staggered to the yucky cot next to the wall and plopped on her butt. She dropped her head in her hands. “I need to go home.”
Cy sat next to her, much too close. Once again little zapping bolts of electricity charged through her system. “This is home now. Alyria. It’s a very good place to live. Our world is much cleaner than the human one. As a result, you’ll remain young longer, age slower, live longer. The other brides all appreciate those benefits.”
She scooted to the end of the cot. “Not me. I d
on’t care if I’ll live to be a thousand. I can’t be your wife. I never wanted to be any man’s wife.”
She wasn’t going to cry. No tears were burning her eyes. But she was feeling uptight enough to do something drastic, like scream, punch something, kick someone.
Granted, at the moment, Cy and Maks weren’t being the totally domineering jerks she’d expected them to be. After all, they lived in a world where women were considered property. Even if her memory about some of the less significant details of their book had blurred a bit, that part of the story remained crystal clear. As did her recollection about her new Masters’ sexual leanings.
These men were bisexual Doms. They had sex with other men and with women, but most importantly, they found great pleasure in sexual domination and submission play.
Cheryl was by no means an innocent girl. She’d said goodbye to her virginity decades ago. And she wasn’t the guilt-ridden type to deny herself casual sex when it was offered. She’d even paid a visit to a swingers’ party. Once.
But she had never fancied herself a submissive. Not in the bedroom and most definitely not outside of it. If these guys expected her to be all Yes, Master, no, Master, whatever you say, Master they were in for one big surprise.
Chapter 3
“Remove your clothes.”
Cheryl shook her head, both in answer to Cy’s demand, and in acknowledgement of her last thought. No doubt about it, these two were going to do their damnedest to turn her into a submissive.
How could she explain to them? Making her a submissive was akin to making a gay person straight. She was what she was, and she wasn’t going to apologize for it.
Cy looked cool and collected as he walked across the room. He was a big, intimidating man, looming over her when she was standing. Now that she was sitting, his size was that much more noticeable.
But she wasn’t scared. Nope. More a little uncomfortable.