Stone Maiden

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Stone Maiden Page 8

by Tina Gerow


  Astor‘s brow furrowed. “Other than some of the kiss taking on too many human servants, yes. But I’m taking care of it since you haven’t been around. Just leave it to me.”

  James raised both brows. “Are you having problems handling things here while I’m otherwise engaged, Astor?” He punctuated his question by raising his glass. “If so, I can have Edward step in. I’m sure he can handle the added responsibility if you can’t.”

  Astor bit back an acid retort. “That won’t be necessary. I’m more than capable of handling things here in your absence.” He ground his teeth as he waited for James’ reaction. The last thing he needed was to be replaced in the hierarchy. Then his real master, Nicholas, would ensure he didn’t live to see the next moon.

  James finally nodded and turned back toward the bar.

  Astor pointed toward James’ drink. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you imbibe when clients weren’t around to see. Is something wrong?” He stood and watched as James downed the burning liquid and scowled.

  “Logan was attacked at Whiskey River. I had to bite a succubus to see who sent her.”

  Astor grimaced and held his envy in check. If he had bitten a succubus, he’d be dead. But unfortunately, James was extremely powerful and wasn’t affected. Power always seems to be wasted on the weak and stupid. No wonder James’ ancient rival wanted Astor to infiltrate. James cared more about the human than his own kiss. “That explains why you’d drink that stuff.” He nodded toward the alcohol. “I’ve heard succubus blood is foul.”

  “And chunky,” James said under his breath as he set the glass on the sideboard and gestured to the conference room. “Shall we catch up before I need to go back out?”

  Astor started toward the conference room. “Of course. So, did you find out who sent the succubus?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too anxious. His existence would be short-lived if James ever found out who hired her and traced it back to his involvement. The ancient who’d hired him had stumbled upon the prophecy and had been frantically searching for the mortal it described ever since. Once they’d determined Logan’s involvement—it was easy to piece together the identity of the ancient force for evil who would betray his kind to swing the pendulum toward good.

  Now if James would just cooperate and let him know if the child of blood had been created, they’d know if it was safe to kill Logan or not.

  “No,” James said as he settled into a plush chair inside the conference room. “Not yet. But I’ll keep trying.”

  Astor straightened his tie and took a seat across from him. “Maybe I can help. I do have some extra time in my schedule, and I’d be happy to take some of the pressure off you.”

  James’ heavy gaze settled on him like a shroud. He tried his best to retain a look of bored indifference as James’ eyes narrowed and studied him.

  “Since when do you have any interest in helping me protect Logan? The last time I mentioned he was having problems, I believe you referred to him as my pet meat Popsicle.”

  Astor resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. His very existence depended on James believing him. “And my opinion hasn’t changed. I merely think if his problems were finished, you’d have more time to spend with the business for the good of the entire kiss. Not that I can’t handle it, but the human servant overpopulation has begun to cause some problems, and has brought some unwanted attention.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet at the ankle, careful not to scuff his Italian loafers.

  James leaned forward in his chair, his voice taking on a dangerous soft edge. “Then handle it. Do you question my loyalty to the kiss, Astor?”

  Astor forced himself to chuckle and unflinchingly meet James’ gaze. “Of course not. I only want to do what’s best for the kiss as a whole. And I know you’ve had to spend more and more time with…Logan.” He hastily amended his ‘pet meat popsicle’s nickname.

  Astor forced himself to hold James’ gaze as the tension level in the room skyrocketed until it was difficult to draw breath. Not that he needed to draw breath to live, but the oppressive sensation unnerved him, nonetheless.

  Finally, James said, “I decide what’s best for the kiss, Astor. Not you. If I deem it important to protect one of our clients, whether they are vampire, human or were-creature, it’s none of your concern.” James leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Unless you are after challenging me…”

  Astor couldn’t help but cringe at the implied threat. James was an ancient, and no matter how weak of character he was, he was too powerful for Astor to defeat, let alone challenge openly. Astor’s best bet for the future would be to wait until James’ rival killed him and then gave the kiss into Astor’s good keeping. He closed his eyes and tipped his head to the side, revealing the long line of his exposed throat, showing obedience and trust. “Of course not, Master.” He invoked the ancient title due to James as leader of the kiss. It wasn’t used in common practice, purely because it would be hard to explain to the human population.

  One second James was leaning back in his chair, and the next his teeth snapped a hairsbreadth away from Astor’s neck. Before Astor could think, he found himself flinching back against the chair with James’ laugh echoing around him.

  Astor opened his eyes to see James leaning over him, his hands resting on either arm of Astor’s chair, bracketing him in. “I know all too well that you hunger for power, Astor. If you wish to leave this kiss, I’ll allow you to apply elsewhere. But keep this in mind, I run this kiss in order for us to be successful in the coming centuries. That is the key to our survival. Not continuing the ancient power struggles, which kept us hunted throughout history. Our success is contingent upon our ability to blend.”

  Astor forced his throat to work. “Yes, Master. Understood.” He waited until he heard the front door close behind James before he allowed himself to relax. “Damn you, James. I want to look you in the eye while Nicholas kills you slowly.”

  *****

  Logan lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling—again. This was the second time since he’d met Ariel that he was flat on his back because of some supernatural beastie who wanted him dead. Or, at least emasculated. He shuddered as he thought about how close he’d come to losing his family jewels. About half an inch, he noted as he looked down at the two angry red bite marks marring the inside of his right thigh.

  He glanced around to make sure the door was firmly closed, and then pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. Bending over, he spread his legs wide and inspected himself to make sure everything was unharmed and where it should be. Having satisfied himself that all was well, he relaxed back against the pillow and let out a sigh of pure male relief.

  His thigh continued to throb, even though he’d downed a few painkillers with a belt of whiskey. He realized with a laugh, it was becoming his cocktail of choice lately. He was glad everyone had finally gone downstairs. It hurt to have the sheet over him, and the bite was too close to his groin to make wearing underwear comfortable, so once again, he was naked. He was never a modest man, but having four gorgeous women around when he was naked, pushed his limits. It might be every man’s fantasy, but not when it was only one on one you were interested in. And also not when three of them were the sisters of the woman with whom you’d like to have the one on one.

  Logan sighed and tried to find a comfortable position. The ride home was still a blur. When he awoke in his own bed, Dara had already replaced his lost blood and told him he would heal in a day or two. Since he’d seen no IV equipment, he’d been too afraid to ask how. Not when there was a vampire somewhere on the premises. If Logan were lucky, he figured he’d never know.

  “Not as happy to see me today, man-thing?”

  Logan jumped and then groaned as his movement caused sharp pains to radiate out from his injured thigh. He glanced up to see Alonna sitting at the foot of his bed, on top of his sheets and covers. He pulled the pillow from behind his head and hastily shielded his crotch from
her probing gaze. “I really wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me like that, Alonna.”

  “Not that it isn't still impressive in its resting state,” she said, still staring as if she could see right through the pillow. “But I did like looking at it the other way.”

  Logan didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.

  Alonna waved a hand in front of her, causing her blonde hair to flutter around her frantically. “No matter. I’m sure it had quite a scare tonight. I don’t blame it for hiding.” A bright smile bloomed across her face and she raised her gaze to his.

  “Did you have a purpose, other than to discuss my genitals?” Logan asked.

  Alonna stood and then flew up to perch on top of the pillow. She sat facing him, her knees bent, her legs spread wide. “I came to see how you were doing,” she said with a sexy pout.

  Logan registered the perfect miniature folds of her sex, moist and open. His body began to respond and he decided staring over her head would be a good idea.

  She smiled as the pillow undoubtedly shifted with his reaction. “You don’t like what you see, man-thing? Men are always saying size does not matter. Is that not true?” Miniature eyelashes batted over her liquid lavender eyes.

  Logan realized she was teasing him and lowered his gaze, but only just far enough to meet hers. He realized he was on boggy ground. Women of any size knew how to load questions, and he had become quite adept at sidestepping the obvious male trap. “Alonna, in this case I think the size difference might be too difficult to overcome. But I think God made you this size on purpose to make men of every other proportion wish they could be compatible.”

  Alonna’s gaze danced with pleasure. “Oh, man-thing, you are good for my giant sister. Take care of her well.” She closed her legs and stood. “And try to stay away from the beasties. I think Ariel would miss your manhood if it were severed.” She gestured toward the pillow under her feet. “And it would be a shame if you were unable to pass on your seed someday.”

  Logan’s blood drained from his face. Son of my blood. Daughter of my destiny. “Wait, is that why everyone is out to castrate me? Because they don’t want me to be able to have a child?”

  Alonna’s liquid lavender eyes sparkled. “It is not for me to explain prophesies, man-thing. I can only deliver them. I came by purely to check on you, remember?” She crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “But heed what I have told you. Have you told the one who holds your heart?”

  Surprise slapped Logan in the face. Why hadn’t he thought to tell Ariel? Because he’d barely just figured out she was the one who held his heart, he realized. Not that they’d had any time alone that he wasn’t intent on doing other things besides talking. The prophecy seemed far removed from everything else that had been going on.

  “Not that I can give prophecy advice, mind you. But if I were a man-thing in a situation such as yours, I would trust the one who held my heart to help me…and to keep my secret.”

  Logan could tell she was giving him direct help, which could get her into trouble. He grinned down at her. “And of course as a man-thing, I would be smart enough to think of that advice on my own and without help from you.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed, a smug smile curving her lips. “Now, I have a gift, if you’ll trust me.”

  Logan narrowed his eyes at her. “What kind of gift?” Alonna seemed trustworthy, but the mischief dancing in her gaze made him wary.

  “I can heal your wound,” she said, her smile now as wide as Texas. “But, you’ll have to remove the pillow.”

  Logan was instantly skeptical. “Why do I have to move the pillow?”

  She stamped her tiny foot. “Man-thing, do you pride yourself on being so difficult? I must touch the wound in order to heal it.” She turned her back to him. “But, if you want to continue to suffer in pain, I guess I’ll go.” She began to walk toward the edge of the pillow, her tiny hips swaying provocatively.

  Logan’s thigh throbbed harder as if to say, “take her offer.” What did he have to lose? She’d seemed trustworthy so far. And if she’d really been sent here to make an attempt on his life, she could’ve done that while he was sleeping. “Alonna, wait.”

  She turned and glanced at him expectantly.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful. I’d really appreciate it if you healed me.”

  She smiled and flew off the pillow to perch on his knee. “That’s more like it. Now move the pillow.” When he did, she rubbed her tiny hands together and devoured him with her gaze.

  Logan tried not to squirm. He’d had plenty of women see him naked, but not even the most blatant had looked at him like this.

  Alonna walked up the length of his leg and when she reached his wound, knelt to examine it. Her nearness made his body react, and he noted she watched in fascination, as his erection grew full. Logan was tempted to cover himself with the pillow again, but he couldn’t without smothering Alonna.

  “It’s just as I thought, man-thing. The succubus has left her poison within you. It must be removed by magic. That is why I offered my gift. It would be a shame to have such a wonderful specimen turned into a dry lifeless husk.”

  Logan tried to ignore the erection which stood stiff and proud between them. “What will happen if the poison isn’t removed?” he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  “It will slowly fester inside you and you will become something of an incubus yourself in time. It would take much time or more bites, but it would happen.”

  Some of the blood returned to his brain from that shock of reality, causing his erection to soften.

  “My, it is a timid thing isn’t it—easily scared.” She laughed. “Don’t worry, Alonna will fix everything. Just don’t move, this may hurt.”

  Logan was stunned to see her lean down on all fours and kiss each bite mark in turn. “That’s it?” he asked as she stood to go.

  “That’s only the beginning. You may want to summon Ariel. It will be painful while the poison works itself out. I would stay, but I cannot bear to watch such as this.” Her tiny brows knitted and her pert lips turned down into a worried frown as she disappeared.

  “Terrific, there’s always a catch.” He sighed. How he could call Ariel from up here? Almost immediately, pain began to build inside his thigh until a feral scream filled his ears. It sounded like something inhuman, and he was shocked to realize it came from him. He only had a moment to draw another breath before the pain spiraled ever higher, giving him no chance to recover from its onslaught. He fought for breath as scream after scream ripped from his throat.

  Chapter Six

  Dara rushed into Logan’s room, her sisters and James close behind her. Logan lay naked on the bed, still screaming and writhing in pain. The screams had started only moments earlier, and they sent cold sharp fear spiraling straight to her gut. She knew well the dangers of a succubus bite. She’d been given a great gift of healing, but poison from this type of being was beyond her. She’d been about to call for Gabriel when Logan’s first screams sounded.

  Dara saw the stricken expression on Ariel and James’ faces and took charge. She wouldn’t let their fear for Logan get in the way of her doing everything possible for him. “Everyone take a limb and hold him down, so I can figure out what’s wrong.”

  Ariel and James each took a leg with Odeda and Kefira holding his arms. Logan was held motionless by their superior strength, but his head still thrashed wildly, the screams becoming more desperate.

  Logan tried in vain to grit his teeth against another scream, and Dara’s heart twisted inside her chest at her inability to stop the pain

  She took a deep breath and stepped forward so she could examine his wound. What she saw made her gasp. Putrid smoke rose from Logan’s thigh wounds, and grey-black pus bubbled up in greasy belches. Dara wiped at the pus with the tail of the sheet, and the cloth began to smolder and smoke in her hand.

  “Damn,” she swore and ran toward the bathroom. She needed water to flush the pus away s
o she could see the wound and keep the foul stuff away from Logan’s skin.

  She grabbed a handful of towels and then searched frantically for something to put water in, but only found a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “Might help keep that crap off his skin,” she murmured rushing back to her patient.

  “What’s happening?” Ariel demanded.

  Dara shook her head as she pulled a towel under Logan’s leg. “The poison is being forced out of his leg, but I’m not sure why.” Dara unscrewed the cap off the peroxide and met Ariel’s worried gaze. “Hold him tight, this may hurt even more.” She tipped the peroxide bottle so a steady stream fell onto his wounds.

  When the peroxide stream hit the succubus poison, the wound began to bubble and sizzle like a frying pan full of fajita meat. Logan’s thrashing hit fever pitch until finally, mercifully, he passed out, his body falling slack.

  “Logan!” Ariel cried out.

  “It’s okay, he just passed out. The pain became too much. Maybe this will finish before he wakes up, and we can spare him any further pain.” When the last of the peroxide drained from the bottle, Dara tossed it aside and waited until the bubbling subsided. Then she took a towel and wiped the wound clean. She saw two perfect lavender lip prints where Logan’s wound used to be.

  Tossing a towel over the wound and hoping no one besides her saw Alonna’s handiwork, she took action. “Everyone out besides Ariel. All we can do is watch and wait, and we’ll need to conserve our strength in case we need to take shifts with him.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” James insisted, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “If I had been at the bar rather than off sulking, this may not have happened.”

  “We can protect him as well as you can,” Ariel bristled.

  James glared back at her. “I can see that,” he said and gestured down at Logan’s still form.

  “Enough,” Dara snapped. She needed to get everyone out of here before they started asking questions about Logan’s wound. “James, no one is blaming you—you know as well as we do that you wouldn’t have sensed the succubus threat any earlier than we did. We all want Logan to be all right, and the best way you can assist me is to get the hell out and let me work.”

 

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