Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Jane The Nymph
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The Nymph's Curse
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2
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The Nymph's Revenge
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2
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Jane the Nymph
Books 1-3
Naomi L Scudder
Copyright © 2017 Naomi L Scudder
All rights reserved.
Your dedication here.
Jane The Nymph
Naomi L Scudder
1
Nymph: noun
A mythological spirit of nature imagined as a beautiful maiden inhabiting rivers, woods, or other locations
Yeah, right, about that…
Feed, feed, FEED!
She was always hungry. There was never enough time to hunt or feed, and recently it seemed her refractory period was growing shorter.
A feeding used to satisfy her for a few days. Now she had only moments of satiation.
She didn’t want to live like this, always and only thinking about her next meal.
“I’m not a junkie,” she mumbled under her breath. But all her self-talk couldn’t convince her, not really, not deep down.
Jane knew what she was.
Her eyes narrowed as her next target approached.
“I’ll have a grande quad nonfat one-pump no-whip mocha,” the tall stranger said, “Extra hot,” he amended. “But no foam,” he added as an afterthought.
Despite his uncommonly annoying drink order, Jane’s pupils dilated at the sound of his voice, turning the deep brown of her iris black. “Sure,” she said with false cheeriness and uncapped her marker. “What’s your name?”
“Eric.”
“OK, Eric,” Jane wrote his name on the cup, positive he would make a very tasty meal. “That’s four ninety-five, please.” She called his order back and took his credit card, making sure to brush the back of the stranger’s hand. Returning the card with his receipt, Jane again touched his bare skin.
Laying the groundwork was crucial.
It was quite a casual and practiced movement giving no indication that Jane’s insides shuddered at the energy she felt within him. Jane was quite sure this man would be the best meal she’d had in a long time.
She was sort of right.
Jane hadn’t worked at the coffee shop long, she’d just moved to The Circle, and truth be told, she hated coffee. But customer service offered her a steady stream of new people to keep her sated.
At least, it had been. Nothing kept her satisfied anymore. She tried everything. Men, women, couples, she’d even briefly ventured into the world of “professionals”. But nothing kept her hunger quelled.
Jane needed this.
She waited on the next customer, keeping an eye on Eric, and making sure the light suggestion she’d weaved into her touch was doing what it was supposed to.
Keeping him here.
She only had fifteen minutes until her break. He needed to stick around.
She wouldn’t survive the rest of her shift if she couldn’t feed.
Just as she’d expected, Eric got his coffee and settled at a nearby table with his e-reader. He slowly sipped his obnoxious drink, eyes glued to his screen, while Jane waited on one under-caffeinated person after another.
Jane’s nerves swirled in her belly. The anxious need for a feeding, combined with the fear of everything that could keep her from it, churned her guts and made the tattoo on her arm shift and wriggle.
She smoothed the fabric of her polyester uniform shirt, trying to calm the wriggling, writhing sensation.
Just a few more minutes. He just needed to stay until...
Her manager appeared from the back office, on her way to relieve her. But Eric was getting up. He threw away his cup and left the coffee shop.
Fuck!
What the hell was she going to do? She could do a cold-start, but it had been a long time since she’d tried that, and Jane hadn’t brought any extra clothes.
She had to catch him.
“Jane, you can…”
“Thanks!” she said, cutting off her manager and running out the back of the shop.
Jane bolted out the back door and directly into Eric’s chest. The force knocked her backward, but she kept herself from falling on her ass with an ankle-rolling side step.
That was going to hurt later.
“You should have just asked,” said Eric.
“What?” Unprepared for a confrontation, Jane fell back on her con-artist roots, perfectly mixing equal parts surprise and confusion in her voice. She was good at what she did but had no idea why her tactile suggestion hadn’t worked. “What do you mean? Asked for what?”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Eric said, and rolled up his sleeve. “Here,” he said, offering his forearm.
“First off, I’m an excellent liar, and secondly, what the fuck do I want with that?”
“Don’t dick around with me - I’m good at what I do, too.”
This guy made no sense to Jane. “What are you talking about?”
Eric closed his eyes for a moment, scenting the air. When he opened them, his expression had changed. “I’m sorry, I misread you. All your thoughts centered around feeding and need. I assumed you were a vamp. I was offering you a meal, but I was wrong. You’re not a vamp, are you? I don’t think I’ve felt anything like you before.”
“You thought…no, I’m not a fucking vamp.” Jane was so offended she could barely keep an even tone. If that’s how she was being taken, she needed to change her approach.
“Well then, what are you?”
“What are you?” Jane asked defensively. No one ever asked questions, they just had their fun and went on their way. She’d never had a conversation with any of her targets before.
“I’m an empath,” said Eric.
“Fuck,” said Jane under her breath.
Eric smiled, “I saw your tactile coercion before you ever touched me.”
Jane pursed her lips. “Yeah? Then why’d you stick around?”
“I was curious,” he said, and lightly flicked the edge of her name tag. “So, tell me, what are you, Jane?” he asked again.
“I’m part nymph.” Jane lied, but it was true enough that Eric didn’t pick up on the part that was false.
“Oh. Oh!” Eric said, blue eyes growing wide as the reality of what Jane was actually hungry for dawned on him.
“Still willing to offer me a meal?” Jane asked. Her lips curved into a smile, the first she’d had since colliding with her meal. While potential meals asking her questions was weird, Jane found it strangely exciting. She liked having to use other skills to catch this meal.
“Um,” Eric’s initial alpha male bravado vanished behind a glaze of awkward uncertainty. “Really?” He stared straight at his shoes.
“Really,” Jane tilted his chin, making
him meet her black eyes. She greeted his unsure gaze with detached confidence. She’d never had to convince anyone to sleep with her before. Her meals always caved to her will and tactile persuasion. But this guy was immune, and Jane found the challenge very exciting.
“I…I don’t know.”
“Shush, let’s just see what happens, OK?”
“Right here, in the alley?”
The alley they stood in was directly off the traffic circle the city was named for, the center of which was the largest convergence of magic on the eastern seaboard.
It was the reason Jane was here.
“Yup.” Jane stretched to kiss him. Slow and deliberate - the last thing she needed was to move too fast and scare him off. When he didn’t back away, she let their lips meet, soft and easy, without any of the fierce need that roiled and rumbled just under her surface.
Eric was a nervous and sloppy kisser, and he tasted like coffee. But Jane had worked with worse. She’d had to. About to let her magic loose, a strange thought occurred to Jane.
“I can make this the best sex you’ve ever had. Is that OK?” Never before had she asked a target’s permission.
Eric pulled away and gave her a questioning look. Jane held his gaze, saying nothing. He closed his eyes. After a moment, Eric gave her a slow nod, his eyes now filled with the darkness of lust.
Jane smiled and opened her chi. The moment the first note of magic touched him, Eric was brought to full arousal - as Jane knew it would.
Jane hadn’t used that coercion tactic since she first needed to hunt. She’d forgotten how effective it was. Eric had her pinned to the brick wall, scenting her neck, and was that…did he just growl in her ear?
The length of his body slammed into hers as his hands found the waist of her pants and yanked them down.
Jane stepped out of one leg, took a quick peek around the alleyway, and pulled Eric out of his pants.
“Fuck,” she said, as she rolled on a condom. He was so hard she was actually afraid for him. Her magic amped up virility, but this seemed dangerous. Burst a blood vessel dangerous.
Eric didn’t seem to notice or care. He hooked a forearm under her knee and slid into her. He filled her just right, his strokes were exactly right. Exactly hard enough, and exactly the right angle to hit all the good places. Every stroke was an orgasm for Jane. There was no climb to the top or slow build. She was always on the edge. Jane clamped her teeth together and tried her best not to make too much noise.
Her back and shoulders scraped the bricks, but she didn’t care. She just needed to feed.
When Eric’s rhythm became choppy and irregular, Jane primed her chi to receive his energy. With one last stroke and a grunt, Eric finished and Jane siphoned off every bit of his sharp, angular energy. She corralled it within her, aiming it for the well within her.
Jane had never felt energy from an empath before.
Her proximity to all the wild, untapped magic of the circle already had her feeling a little unsteady. Add to that the nature of the empath’s energy and Jane was in for one fucked up ride.
Eric’s energy held residuals from all the people he’d come in contact with that day. Broken pieces of everyone he’d so much as glanced at filled Jane to jarring discomfort.
Jane’s head swam and whirled from the alien energies. She broke the connection and pushed Eric away. But physical distance did nothing to fix her jagged insides.
“Are you OK?” asked Eric.
“Fine,” lied Jane, as she wrapped her arms around herself. If she could just contain it, just keep it all in until her body absorbed it.
She slid down the wall and hugged her knees to her trembling chest. The tattoo on her upper arm wriggled and squirmed on her skin. Absorption had never been this uncomfortable before.
Fuck, fuck FUCK! She had no idea how to assimilate all the energy she’d taken from Eric.
“Hey, hey! Jane! Look at me.” Eric lifted her pointed chin, forcing eye contact. “I’m going to get in your head. Tell me that’s alright.”
Jane didn’t think that would help in the least.
“Tell me it’s OK!”
She nodded and instantly felt Eric’s presence mingling with all the dissonant, sharp scraps of countless other. It was too much. Her body shook in defiant rejection, eyes rolling and hands balling into fists.
Jane was having a seizure.
Isn’t this great? You stumble upon someone with energy to spare, and you can’t handle it. What kind of sorry nymph are you?
Despite the magic-overload seizure, Jane was still aware of Eric banging around her insides. He collected the errant, foreign energies but didn’t know what to do with them. He couldn’t take them back, and he couldn’t get them out of her.
Eric, you have to get out, you’re making it worse. Jane thought to him.
No, I have to help you, Eric answered silently.
You’re not helping! Get out! Jane thought and ejected him from her chi, ending her seizure.
“I have to do this on my own,” she panted and focused on collecting all the shards of noisy, unmatched energy Eric dropped. The new, strange energy didn’t want to live in her well. Not as it was. She couldn’t get rid of it, and it wouldn’t be corralled.
“How do you house it?”
“I - I don’t. What do you mean?” asked Eric.
“How do you contain opposing energies within yourself?” Jane was still panting, sweat dripping from her forehead.
“I don’t know. I just do.”
If he could do it then Jane could too. She took a breath and tried to hear the different notes of each individual energy pattern.
She couldn’t do it. They were too loud, too sharp, too chaotic.
Order. She needed to order the noise. But how do you bring harmony to a cacophony?
Jane’s own, long unused magic responded. A single note thrummed within her. Great! The one time I don’t need MORE magical energy! She tried to quell it - she couldn’t handle more noise. But the lone note of her innate magic wouldn’t be buried and continued to play despite her effort. It grew louder and soon it pulled the same notes from the choir of foreign energy Jane housed.
And then Jane got it. “Like with like,” she whispered. She pulled single notes of her own magic and let them attract the complimentary chords from the choir of energy within her.
It took some time but eventually, the energy found a homeostasis. The sharp dissonance pared itself down, and the intermingling energies balanced on their own. They slid effortlessly into their new home, and Jane’s body relaxed.
“You’re OK now?” Eric’s whole face creased with worry.
Jane, propped against the wall, air still moving through her in great heaving sighs, pulled up her pants and only nodded.
“Do you want help getting back inside?”
“No, I’m going to sit here for a minute.”
“Um, did you want me to wait with you?”
“Not really.”
“OK, if you’re sure,” he was already up and pointed in the opposite direction.
“I’m sure,” Jane said and Eric walked away.
After a few minutes, Jane felt mostly normal and headed back to the coffee shop. As much as it sucked, she had to admit it was worth it. Eric had given her so much energy, she’d be set for at least a week.
2
“Sit down.” The shifter shoved Jane at the chair of the tiny office, the fabric of his white t-shirt straining against his typical shifter bulk.
“Get your fucking hands off me, you dirty mongrel!” Jane shook herself free of the shifter’s grasp and seated herself calmly into the chair.
“That’ll be all, Jake,” said the man behind the desk. The shifter closed the door to the office, but not before one last leering look at Jane.
Jane flipped him off.
“What am I doing here?” Jane asked the man behind the desk. She crossed her arms and slouched into the back of the office chair, punctuating her false sentiment.
She didn’t bother rubbing her tattoo. It would stop squirming once the shifter was far enough away.
He had energy to spare. And even though her well was three-quarters full from the empath earlier that week, the tattoo always told Jane of potential targets.
The man, well dressed for such a shitty office in a shitty dive bar, said, “I realize Jake is a bit rough around the edges—”
“To say the least. He pulled me off the street on my way home from work!” Jane rubbed the spot on her arm the shifter wrenched getting her here.
“But I won’t tolerate slurs in The Circle. We have enough problems as it is,” he said, smoothing the front of the dark blue waistcoat he wore, which went quite well with the crisp white of his Oxford.
Jane was sure whatever problems this new city had couldn’t be as bad as what she’d just left. She was also pretty sure playing hardball with this man wasn’t going to win him over. But she couldn’t help it - it was a defense mechanism.
The life Jane had escaped taught her well. Never show weakness, never.
The man behind the tiny desk in the cramped office rubbed his temples, then pulled a hand through his dark wavy hair. “Jane, may I call you Jane?”
“It is my name.”
The man sighed. “Jane, you’ve broken every law we have here. You failed to announce yourself as a newcomer when you first arrived. You’ve been seen pulling energy from others in public on multiple occasions, and the local authorities have CCTV footage of you having sex in the alley of the coffee shop.” The man paused. “You’ve only been here for two weeks and the Corporation has already warned me that if I can’t get you under control you won’t be permitted to stay here.”
Jane needed to stay here, she needed to free herself of the tattoo, of her curse, but she couldn’t help poking the bear. “I didn’t know I had to announce myself to some self-appointed, self-righteous ‘leader’ anytime I decide to try a new city. And why do you care where I have sex?”
Jane The Nymph: The Boxed Set (The Circle Series Book 2) Page 1