Spank or Treat 2014

by Anastasia Vitsky, et. Al.

  “Are you all right?”

  A melodious contralto voice flowed over him and washed away some of his tension as if it had never been. Wait, I nearly knocked her over, and she’s asking me if I’m all right?

  “Of course, mistress. Forgive me for nearly knocking you down.” He took a step back before he released her, curiously reluctant to let go. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “Nope. It’s my fault for sneaking up on you.” She tilted her head and a tendril of hair the color of golden wheat escaped from her hood. “Who are you and what are you doing hiding in the woods?”

  Phinnius raised his eyebrows at her direct boldness, but she met his gaze frankly.

  “I’m Phinnius Winterbourne, brother to Darius Winterbourne.” He inclined his head and gave his best charming smile.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Winterbourne. If Darius is your brother, why are you skulking in the woods?” The woman raised an eyebrow of her own.

  I do believe I’ve lost my touch. “I decided that perhaps my presence would be more of a hardship than a blessing. And who might you be?”

  “I’m a friend of Sabrina Winterbourne.” She raised her chin.

  “And your name is?”

  “None of your business. If you’re just passing through, get along, lil doggy. Time’s a’wastin’ and Samhain’s approachin’.” She waved her hands at him as if to shoo him off. “Off you go, now.”

  Phinn gaped at her. Was he really being dismissed by a woman no taller than his chin? “Tell me your name first, mistress.”

  ***

  Kendra MacGillivray had met many cheeky men in her time, but the tall, dark-haired beauty with sapphire blue eyes took the cake. Or maybe it’s the come-hither eyes, long hair, and leather jacket that’s doing it. Whatever it was, he wore arrogance like a comfortable suit. He smelled like vanilla, the sweetly spicy scent of Ponderosa pine trees in the sunshine, and she reminded herself men didn’t like women sniffing after them like bitches in heat.

  And if they do, they aren’t worth it.

  “You can call me Kendra. Now, off you go.”

  The tall warrior with the heavy sword over his shoulder gave her a sardonic smile, but bowed. “As you wish, Mistress.”

  All the hair stood up on the back of her neck as the fetid scents of rotting wine and old sex hit her nose. Phinnius froze and lost his smile. Sweet glory, what is it? Swallowing against the gag reflex, Kendra shifted sideways, presenting her back to neither the man nor whatever approached through the underbrush.

  “Aw, hellfire.” Phinnius yanked the sword off his back with a metallic hiss and settled into a battle stance.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Kendra fought bile back down her throat as she took in a creature resembling a cross between a panther and a dragon. A ridge of fins from each vertebra protruded along the back and tail, and oddly jointed limbs ended in long, sharp claws. Black lips drew back as it hissed.

  “Stay back, Mistress Kendra. This demon is here for me.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.” The demon’s glowing green eyes shifted from Phinnius to her, and it licked its slavering jaws.

  “I promise I won’t let it hurt you.”

  Good luck with that. Kendra settled her mind to gather the life energy around her. Magic wasn’t an alien force—it came from the living beings inhabiting the world. The creature held some of the same energy, but it appeared tangled or kinked, breaking the flow.

  Kendra took a deep breath and built a ball of power in her mind’s eye as the creature crouched, its hindquarters wiggling in a prelude to pounce. The spell she had in mind wouldn’t harm the beast, but it would contain and heal some of the conflicting energy paths.

  Phinnius moved into her line of fire and she growled. “Get out of the way. I don’t want to hit you.”

  “Hit me? With what? I’m the one with the sword. Just stay back and I’ll protect you.” He kept his eyes on the snarling animal.

  Arrogant man. Goddess only knew what a defensive spell like this would do to him if he stood in the way. He didn’t have completely human energy and this power was her own special recipe.

  “I don’t need protecting, Mr. Winterbourne. I just need you stay to the side, okay?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And you don’t know a damn thing about me, so please just get out of the way.”

  Phinnius ignored her and she swallowed her frustration as she stepped to his other side. The demon’s eyes tracked her movement. A gurgling growl rumbled from its throat as she brought her hands up into position. She met its gaze, judging the next perfect moment.

  Apparently, Phinnius waited for the same moment because he leapt at the creature with a yell, swinging his blade. The creature snarled and lashed out with its tail. The spiked limb caught Phinnius in the side and threw him into a tree with a resounding thud.

  Kendra swore and ducked as the demon swiped at her with one clawed hand, destroying her concentration. She threw herself into a roll and thanked her lucky stars for self-defense training. Her shoulder slammed into a tree trunk, but otherwise she escaped without harm.

  When she rose, Phinnius stood with the creature between them. Ah hell, he’s in the way again. Her shoulder screamed a protest, but she gritted her teeth and crept through the trees to find a better position.

  ***

  Bloody hell, the morgira had strength like a juggernaut. Phinn’s head rang as he staggered to his feet and scanned the clearing. The demon twisted its sinuous body to face Kendra, growling. The boney tail twitched back and forth with ire as it fixated on her.

  “Don’t let it touch you.” He didn’t know if his voice carried, but the demon’s attention shifted to him with a baleful look.

  Right back at you. Phinn took a fighting stance, ignoring the stabbing pain of his ribs. Dammit, either something’s out of joint or broken. He swallowed a groan and waved his sword. “Over here, you scaly menace.”

  The morgira snarled, its lips pulling back from long, needle-like teeth. The green eyes flashed malice, but the demon swung back to Kendra when she moved. Phinn swore under his breath and sheathed his sword to free his hands.

  The demon crouched again, preparing to leap, and Phinn gathered his strength. He couldn’t let it take Kendra. “Mistress Kendra, get behind the trees.”

  The morgira’s ears swiveled toward him, but it kept its focus on the woman.

  “Just stay out of the way, Mr. Winterbourne.” Her hands cupped something he couldn’t see. Little flashes illuminated her face and she dropped her gaze to them, just as the beast lunged.

  Phinn hurled himself at the morgira to throw it off course, plowing into the beast with a move reminiscent of an American football tackle. The demon shrieked, dragging Phinn with it as it slammed into Kendra. It snapped at Phinn, sharp teeth tearing at his arm.

  Pain bloomed in his shoulder and side as the world lit up in brilliant golden light. The demon’s shriek mixed with a feminine battle cry, and Phinn closed his eyes against the brilliance. A hollow-sounding pop echoed through the trees and something jerked his body. He held onto the demon with all his strength as they slammed into a hard surface, and the darkness swallowed his consciousness.

  ***

  Kendra screamed when the demon leaped at her, half battle cry, half protest. Phinnius attacked the beast just as she threw her spell, and the magic exploded over all of them, lighting the world in a fireball. Kendra went down under the mass and stench of the creature Phinnius held, praying he’d be all right as she blacked out.

  Gasping, Kendra sat up. Where the hell am I? The world wore a mantle of snow and ice, bare tree branches scratching the gray sky. A thick blanket of silence surrounded the impact crater of their arrival.

  Something whimpered nearby, sounding like a distressed dog. Warm breath smelling of rancid meat filled her nose as a soft muzzle nudged her side. Kendra turned her head and met the green-gol
d gaze of the demon.

  Oh, sweet Goddess.

  The creature whined and nudged her again, flattening its ears in a good impression of supplication. Kendra blinked. She leaned back out of its breath and shook her head. This can’t be right. Where’s Phinnius?

  She spotted him on his side in the snow, his arms splayed out in front of him. Kendra scrambled up to check if he breathed. Small puffs of steam showed in front of his nose and mouth, and relief cascaded through her as she crouched beside him. Thank the Goddess.

  “I have to get him out of the snow.” Kendra’s voice startled her, almost as much as the demon’s curious presence, sniffing at the man. “And just what do you want?”

  The beast whined again and head-butted her shoulder as if begging for reassurance. She stared at the animal, its short furred hide gleaming asphalt-gray in the wan light.

  “Hey, what happened to your bones?” Taut skin covered the demon from head to tail and its energy flowed in smooth lines. The beast bumped her again. “And why aren’t you trying to rip my throat out?”

  The demon mewled and sniffed at Phinnius, before returning its green-gold gaze to her. Its ears twitched and she caught new sounds echoing through the snowy woods. Kendra scanned the snowy clearing as the hair on the back of her neck rose. Something headed their way, and she doubted it would be pleasant.

  “Come on, Mr. Winterbourne. We gotta get out of here.” Kendra leaned over Phinnius’s head, trying not to enjoy the warm vanilla scent of his clothes and hair. “Mr. Winterbourne.” She shook him and he groaned. “Great.”

  She rolled him onto his back, crossed his legs one over the other at the ankles, and grasped him under the armpits. She used her strength to drag his inert body deeper into the trees. Kendra stopped and crouched behind some thick shrubs with the demon beside her just as riders on impossibly tall, slender horses jogged past.

  Each rider wore a helm with snowflakes imprinted in the metal and pointed ears stuck out from beneath flaxen hair. Kendra swallowed hard and glanced at her creature companion.

  “I don’t know who they were, but I don’t think we’re in Colorado anymore.”

  A Note from Siobhan

  Dear Readers:

  Siobhan Muir lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming, with her husband, two daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shape-shifter, though he's never shifted when she can see him. When not writing, she can be found looking down a microscope at fossil fox teeth, pursuing her other love, paleontology. An avid reader of science fiction/fantasy, her husband gave her a paranormal romance for Christmas one year, and she was hooked for good.

  In previous lives, Siobhan has been an actor at the Colorado Renaissance Festival, a field geologist in the Aleutian Islands, and restored inter-planetary imagery at the USGS. She’s hiked to the top of Mount St. Helens and to the bottom of Meteor Crater.

  Siobhan writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women to enjoy. She believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.

  Be on the lookout for Siobhan’s upcoming November 2014 release Take the Reins¸ a fantasy with romantic elements, and Second Chance Succubus, a paranormal ménage romantic suspense coming in early 2015.

  You can find Siobhan in the following places, always willing to chat.

  Website: http://siobhanmuir.com

  Blog: http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com

  Google Plus: http://plus.google.com/u/0/118081545120488658410/posts

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Official.Siobhan.Muir

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/SiobhanMuir

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5760938.Siobhan_Muir

  Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/siobhanmuir35

  The Elder Warlock by Virginia Nelson

  Chapter One

  Although she’d grown up hearing the tales of the Elder Warlock, Pepper Havendash never believed in the ridiculous mythology. She certainly wasn’t in the mood for storytelling around the fire—a childish pursuit and time she could better spend elsewhere. As a witch, she’d long ago accepted the tenuous balance between superstition and actual magic and couldn’t be bothered with foolish stories about things that went bump in the night. Scary stories were meant to keep children from getting in trouble, really, and getting in trouble happened to be her favorite pastime.

  She preferred to be the thing bumping in the night. Maybe grinding a bit, too, if the opportunity presented itself. Secure in both her femininity and her power, she followed all the rules…Well, most of the rules. If the goddess didn’t mean for her to be a naughty witch, she wouldn’t have made sex feel so wonderful, right?

  But Gray, the lovely human she’d brought to the harvest party, seemed fascinated by the tale, so she wasn’t getting laid anytime soon. Especially not if Arabeth, her peppy do-gooder cousin, managed to drag the telling out, as she so often did. Bethey should have pursued a career on the stage—her sense of drama surely would have fit better under bright lights or on film than it did around a campfire. “Bethey, really, the Elder Warlock? We’re not children,” Pepper complained. She knew, for a fact, the main reason Arabeth brought up the damned story was because Beth didn’t approve of Pepper’s level of comfort with her desires. If Bethey wanted to be a dried up prune, not seeking pleasure and instead intent on only her studies, so be it. She wasn’t foisting her opinions off on Pepper, especially not via some ancient sex mythology crafted by sexually repressed ancients.

  Whining didn’t win her any brownie points with her human. Gray shushed her, further riling her anger. “C’mon, Pepper. We have time to stick around for a story. Grab a beer. We’ll hit the road once she’s done.”

  Pepper also wasn’t a big fan of being told what to do. Getting up, as if to fetch the brown glass bottled beverage, she instead snuck into the woods. Let him hear his bedtime story. She could find other ways to occupy herself…

  Bethey’s voice carried, the words clear even as Pepper carefully placed each footstep to avoid breaking branches or scuffling leaves and thereby make it obvious to the group that she’d snuck off. “The Elder Warlock is a story that dates back to the early days of Ireland. Supposedly, if a lady had loose morals, she could be visited by the Elder Warlock when he roamed at the harvest time. Some said he was an incubus, feeding off the sexual and carnal nature of the women he visits. Other say he’s a warlock who travels on the very wind to creep into the windows of women who are promiscuous. Whichever you believe, on this night each year, he visits…”

  Finding some berries, Pepper stopped to munch and enjoyed the way the moonlight washed over her skin. She’d worn a short black skirt to better tempt the human home for some afterhours play. The breeze caught the fabric, letting cool air almost caress her ass. Smiling, Pepper plucked more berries as Gray interrupted the story. “Wait, so if a woman is sexually active, she’s promiscuous? This is a sexist story. And why would some incubus-like warlock visit the woman if she’s already out getting hers? Who says she’d be home for him to visit?”

  Shaking her head, Pepper snuck further into the forest, but she could still hear Arabeth’s reply. “I told you this was an old story, I didn’t say it was based on our current sexual mores, Gray. Do you want to hear it or not?”

  She couldn’t hear Gray’s response, having found a small opening in the trees and a lovely patch of moonlit grass, but Arabeth’s voice seemed to have no problems finding her. Gray must have acquiesced, since Bethey continued her storytelling. “Anyway, on this night, the Elder Warlock goes out hunting. He craves the heat and passion of the naughty witch and will find her and use her through the night. Some say the women like it, reveling in the best sex anyone could imagine. Some say the witch is left an empty husk when dawn breaks, drained of her strength and powers by the Elder Warlock. Whichever is true, the Elder Warlock will find girls who are free with their bodies and take his price out in sexual deviances so twisted and sadistic, no one sp
eaks of them afterward. At dawn, the Elder Warlock is gone, the punished witch is alone. Some survive his visit…”

  Bethey paused for drama, and Pepper settled under a tree to watch the sky turn. “But some don’t.”

  Snickering, Pepper closed her eyes, sure that Bethey would ramble from one tale to the next, keeping Gray occupied for at least the near future. Since she hadn’t planned to stop for more than a few minutes at the get together—and since Gray had gotten her motor running before they’d arrived—she figured she might have just enough time to satisfy herself. If she took the edge off her need, perhaps she’d be more patient in waiting for the human to finish his ‘exciting’ visit to the witch party.

  Secure in her privacy, she wiggled out of her underwear and spread herself open to the moon. Something about being outside—under the sky and open to the universe—always flat out did it for her. Sliding one fingertip between her legs, she began to tease at the already moist slit, not touching her clit yet.

  Once she’d taunted herself sufficiently, she gnawed her lip and tugged down her blouse to better access her breasts. Digging a hand inside, she freed one from the restrictions of the bra, loving the way the demi-cup forced her flesh upward, and tugged at the nipple. While doing this, her other hand busily began thrumming her clit.

  The breeze picked up again, sending a wash of cold air over her wet and hot pussy, and she bit down harder on her lip to keep from crying out at the sensation. Opening her eyes, she scanned to be sure she was alone. The last thing she needed was one of her cousins interrupting before she’d managed to orgasm.

  The quick scan revealed glowing eyes peering at her from the cover of trees, and she gasped. Sitting up fast, she yanked down the skirt and tried to decide exactly what she saw. It looked like eyes, but gleaming in the darkness. Maybe some trick of the moonlight on some previously unnoticed reflective material?