Terror seized Aldric, widening his eyes with growing realization. He’d drank from the body of a goddess, not just from her veins, but from the very essence of her feminine power. The strength he’d found in death had been stolen from him—drained away on a flood of life. He fought the fine tremble that threatened to crawl up his body as Saule leaned in and put her lips against his ear.
“You grew impatient with me once, Aldric. You threw away the life you’d promised to spend in service to me.” She licked his ear and then nuzzled his neck, sending shivers down his spine. “I’m going to teach you patience, little human. There will be no vampire standing by to offer you a faster way.”
He shivered in pleasure despite a growing sense of alarm. “What do you want from me?”
“Here in the Unseelie sithen, night and day coexist. Dubheasa has kindly offered me refuge here while I recondition you. And all it cost me was two of your guards.”
Aldric froze, his gaze searching in vain for Vincentas and Bron. The two men had entrusted him with their safety, had been loyal to him for hundreds of years. Now they were gone.
“You look so outraged.” Saule smiled. “Don’t worry,” she soothed. “The Queen will take good care of them.”
“They have done nothing to deserve punishment. They are not yours to bargain with.”
“I wouldn’t worry about them, my dear Aldric.”
The queen’s voice wound itself around his ears, tilting his head to look toward the entrance of the alcove. The queen stood there, her face smeared with blood and her eyes alight with some strange pleasure. She stepped into the alcove and came to stand where she could stare down at Aldric. “You have more important things to worry about.”
Understanding finally dawned. He turned his gaze back to Saule. “You planned this. You deliberately drew Oberon’s attentions so that Tatania would send you here because you knew Queen Dubheasa would help you lure me to the sithen in exchange for the brothers.”
Saule smiled. “Do you know what happens when you touch the sun, Aldric?”
His heart, so newly healed, nearly stopped in his chest. “You get—”
“Burned,” she whispered.
“Poor Aldric,” the queen said ruefully. “It seems your reign of terror is over.” She sighed. “Pity.”
The End . . . ?
Review on Amazon
Review on Barnes & Noble
Review on AllRomance
Review on Kobo
Review on Goodreads
Sneak Peek at MASTERED, Book Two in the Revenge in Vein series:
“So you just assumed that because I left the tentacle lying on the floor that I was done with it?”
Queen Dubheasa narrowed her eyes a little further, keeping the smile from her face as her newest lady in waiting shrank before her. The key to tormenting servants was to make them question everything. Even the slightest task should make them tense with indecision as they tried to guess whether the greater danger lie in doing something or not doing something. For instance, would it anger the queen more to leave a bleeding tentacle lying on the floor of her throne room, or would she be more furious if it was discarded without consulting her? These were the questions that kept a sidhe from making hasty choices.
Rosemary’s normally pink tinted skin paled with terror until she was nearly as white as the queen herself.
“I—I—I—,” she sputtered.
“You look better with less color in your face,” Dubheasa mused aloud, admiring the woman’s new pallor. “I wonder how we might go about dying your skin to look that way all the time?”
The slender sidhe female swayed on her feet, a good sign she was about to faint. Tiny greed buds pushed through Rosemary’s skin, crawling down her arms like tiny green snakes. If the former Seelie sidhe kept panicking, she’d be covered in a rosebush before she could gather her wits to respond. Dark pleasure swirled around Dubheasa’s body. Less than five minutes and two hundred year old Rosemary was already losing control of her powers in the face of the queen’s psychological warfare.
These are the games that make living for centuries bearable, the queen thought happily.
A sharp feminine moan came from behind her and Dubheasa glanced over her shoulder. Her shift in attention revealed nothing but a row of red velvet curtains hanging over a series of hidden alcoves. The queen would be hard pressed to remember what she’d put in each of the various hidey-holes, but she knew exactly where that moan had come from.
“Saule is obviously enjoying her revenge.” She glanced down at the floor, admiring the prone bodies of the two unconscious vampires she’d recently acquired. Congratulations were most definitely in order. Not only had she managed to get a front row seat for Aldric’s erotic revenge on the sun goddess, she’d struck a deal with the sun goddess to gain two vampire lovers in exchange for setting up Aldric. “Really,” she said out loud. “It’s a win for everyone involved. Aldric got his revenge, Saule got her revenge, and I got to watch it all and take two prizes home with me besides!”
The sound of rustling leaves drew her attention. She narrowed her eyes as she noticed her servant still quaking before her.
“Rosemary,” she growled. “Why are you still here? Can’t you see I have guests to entertain?”
Sobbing, Rosemary fled the throne room on wobbling legs, not even sparing a glance at the two “guests” on the floor. It wasn’t until she’d vanished out the door that the queen realized she’d meant to make the sniveling sidhe carry the vampires to her bedroom.
“Bloody hell,” the queen muttered. She turned around and stared down at the two vampires. Their eyes remained closed, their eyelids smooth and their faces relaxed. For a moment she wondered if perhaps she’d used too much power to knock them unconscious. She prodded them each in turn with her foot. Nothing.
She frowned, but then shrugged. They were both over three hundred years old, to have used any less power may have given them the time they needed to fight it. Her plan required her to have them bound and helpless before they realized they were in jeopardy.
She toyed with the notion of summoning another servant to carry them for her, but discarded the idea. The fewer witnesses to her plan the better. She bent down and grabbed the first vampire by an arm and a leg, throwing him over her shoulder as if he weighed no more than a sack of laundry. Balancing him carefully on her shoulder, she bent her knees and grabbed hold of the other vampire’s ankle. When she had a proper grip on both of her prisoners, she straightened up and began the trek to her bedroom.
As she dragged them out of the throne room into one of the myriad of hallways in the sithen, Dubheasa cast her gaze around in search of more servants. As she’d expected, Rosemary’s demeanor seemed to have scared away any would-be witnesses. The hallway between the throne room and her bedroom was completely empty.
Dubheasa crossed the threshold of her boudoir and a little of the tension in her shoulders eased. Even among the nightmares of her own court, there were none who would dare to spy in her bedroom. Not without an invitation at least. Within these four walls, she was free from scrutiny. Throwing the two vampires halfway across the room onto the bed, she slammed the door behind her, a not so subtle hint to anyone who might be within hearing distance to stay away. Whirling away from the door, Dubheasa’s body tingled in anticipation as she focused on the two vampires lying on her bed.
They were not as handsome as some of the vampires she’d seen, but they were exactly what her fantasy demanded. Black hair, wild and uncombed, brushed their broad pale shoulders. Their squared jaws gave them a brutish appearance, helped along a great deal by the fact that each of them cleared six feet tall by a good three or four inches. No scars marked their skin, despite what Dubheasa knew of their violent lifestyles. Of course, that was understandable, if what she’d heard about them was true. After all, their kind had an advanced healing factor from birth. Unlike some other breeds of vampires, they did not have to die to get it.
Her gaze traveled over the expans
e of their deliciously naked bodies. Their flat brown nipples looked dark in contrast to their ghostly pale skin. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of their smooth hairless chests. Based on their reputations as bloody barbarians, slaughtering generations of soldiers, she had to admit she’d pictured big hairy men waving double-sided axes and roaring to the night skies. The two vampires lying so peacefully on her bed were as smooth as alabaster. So beautiful . . .
Much too beautiful to hide beneath clothing. Dubheasa congratulated herself once again on her insistence that both Aldric and his men arrive at the Unseelie Court completely nude. It allowed things to progress in exciting directions so much quicker. She tilted her head in bemusement. Perhaps she would institute such a rule for everyone entering her court. No clothing for anyone. What a marvelous notion.
Tucking that idea away for future consideration, Dubheasa turned her attention back to the task at hand. She’d planned this for too long to let herself get distracted now. Careful to keep her eye on her unconscious prisoners, she hurried over to the bed.
The mattress was big enough for a family of trolls to sleep quite comfortably. It was somewhat awkward to climb into, but for someone who liked to entertain quantity in her bedroom, the end result was worth it. Dubheasa grabbed on to the foot high railing of metal bars and heaved herself up and over.
Once nestled comfortably inside, she grabbed one of the men by his shoulders and jerked him around until he was lying properly with his head on the pillow. She repeated the same for the other one. When she was finished, she crawled down the bed and grabbed one of the numerous sets of shackles hanging from the rows of bars and used them to bind one of each vampire’s legs to the rail. For what had to be the hundredth time, she sent a silent congratulations to her clever blacksmith.
The rail had been the unexpected result of her attempt to torment another of her servants. Brogan the blushing blacksmith had nearly fallen over with embarrassment when she’d stood in her throne room screaming at him because her ménage a cinq had been interrupted when one of the men fell off the edge of her bed. She had demanded that the blacksmith build her a bigger bed frame. Dubheasa smiled at the memory. Brogan had paled to a delicious shade of white when she’d told him if she ever had to suffer the indignity of having one of her lovers fall over the edge in the middle of their passion again, she’d see him tortured for the next three lunar cycles.
She trailed a nail over one of the thick bars lining the railing, a thrill racing between her legs as she jingled one of the many pairs of shackles hanging from the metal. Not only had Brogan managed to ensure her lovers didn’t fall off the bed—he’d made it even easier for the queen to indulge in all of her delicious fantasies. She’d been so inspired that she’d had him construct a lattice of bars to hang from her ceiling as well, forming an almost-cage around her bed. The bars allowed her to easily shackle anyone she pleased, in any position she pleased—holding them completely helpless against the onslaught of pain and pleasure that made her room echo with the screams of her lovers.
Tonight would be the piece de resistance. After years of searching and gathering information, years of planning and manipulating the pawns into place, she would finally experience the pleasure she’d yearned to feel for so long. After checking one last time to make sure both vampires had enough slack in their chains for the fun she had planned, she backed away from the bed. Excitement sent crackles of electricity over her skin as she sent a gentle pulse of power out toward the sleeping vampires.
Wake up, my lovelies. Wake up and show me your claws.
Read more of MASTERED
About the Author
Jennifer Blackstream is a psychology enthusiast with both a B.A. and M.A. in Psychology. Her fascination with the human mind is most appeased through the study of mythology and folklore as well as the novels of Terry Pratchett.
Jennifer enjoys listening to Alice Cooper, trying new recipes (to which she will add garlic whether it calls for it or not), watching television with her family, and playing with her woefully intelligent three year old son. She lives in Ohio in enviable extended-family circumstances with both her parents and her son.
Jennifer spends most of her time drinking coffee from her X-Men mug and desperately trying to get all her ideas written down before her toddler can find that all magical button on her laptop to make all her work vanish.
To learn more about Jennifer Blackstream and her novels, visit her website at http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/. In addition to information about J.B. and her books, you will find bonus content (such as deleted scenes, early versions of cover art, and book trailers) and a fan forum full of other treats. Check it out.
Did you find a typo?
I hate typos. I do my best to rid my manuscripts of them before I send them to my editor, and then she does her best to find any stragglers that I missed. Still, sometimes the little buggers get by both of us and leap off the page to torment you, my loyal readers!
So here’s the deal. If you found any typos, go to www.jenniferblacksream.com and click on “The Typo Challenge.” Then use the contact form to report it (or “them” >gasp!<). Every month I will put the names of everyone who reported a typo into a hat and pick one out. That person will then be offered her (or his) choice of a Barnes & Noble or Amazon $25 gift certificate.
That’s right . . . you can win a gift certificate just for reporting a typo.
And thank you for helping me improve the reading experience for later readers.
- Jennifer Blackstream
Ahoy, Ebook Pirates!
As much as I dream of the day when I can live off my writing income, I understand that some people (for whatever reason) find my books on pirating sites and download them for free. I can't stop that. I'm an author with stories to tell and a three year old boy to dote on, I don't have time to track down pirates.
So here's my proposition:
If you have downloaded one of my books for free (for whatever reason) please leave a donation. Whatever you can afford to part with in exchange for what I hope will be the hours and hours of enjoyment you get from my books, drop it in my little cyber tip jar. Your donations will help me keep putting out the books that I hope bring you entertainment and pleasure.
If you can't afford a financial tip of the hat, leaving a review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, AllRomance, or Kobo would be a nice gesture as well. For your convenience, every book on my site has a Goodreads widget at the bottom of the page. Just one click and you will be taken to Goodreads where you can leave a review.
Thank you for taking the time to hear my spiel.
Happy Reading,
Jenny
Table of Contents
Blurb
Other Books By Jennifer Blackstream
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Burned
Sneak Peek at MASTERED, Book Two in the Revenge in Vein series:
About the Author
Did you find a typo?
Ahoy, Ebook Pirates!
Burned Page 5