by Renea Mason
“Yeah, but it’s really the jambalaya that’s to die for. And maybe I will see him again. My father took me there when I…” I caught myself before I told him too much. “Promise?”
“OK. But only if Baba Yaga lets you go.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door. “Come on.”
Chapter 4
Twitch
Twenty-seven flights of stairs and, I stumbled through the doorway. Absolute exhaustion. I couldn’t even hold the door for him.
“Ow,” he grumbled from behind me.
My room was one large space, much like a loft apartment. A small kitchenette with all the modern conveniences took up the far corner of the cavernous space. The vaulted ceiling and sparse furnishings caused my footsteps to echo as my shoes tapped against the stone floors. My bed sat in the opposite corner against the white stucco walls next to my desk with my computer—my only access to the outside world.
I walked to the bed and collapsed across the fluffy white linens. I didn’t care that I had a guest. I was far too tired. I smoothed the comforter and gave rare thanks for useful witches—the spells Baba Yaga cast that automatically made my bed each morning, did the dishes and laundry. She even had my meals made magically, which was the best, because I couldn’t imagine lugging groceries up twenty-seven fucking flights of stairs. I buried my face in the pillows and groaned.
My eyes were about to drift shut when Marcus cleared his throat. “Are you going to sleep?”
I rolled over and propped myself up on my elbows and my breath caught in my throat. He was gorgeous. I had admired him downstairs, but the realization that he stood just feet away in all his glory made my palms sweat, among other things. Glory, glory, glory be…he was fine. And…aroused. I swallowed hard. “I should probably get you some clothes.”
“I doubt you have any that fit me.” He didn’t move other than the slight twitch of his cock.
The hunger in his eyes set me on fire. Something I thought I’d never feel after Julian. I had read that bonded mates weren’t supposed to be able to be aroused by other people, so why was I wet at the sight of his mammoth erection? Maybe his sex appeal was some kind of voodoo. Only a magical influence could explain it.
“Here, let me see what Baba Yaga left for me in the closet.” I had taken to wearing the same outfit everyday. The white button down shirt and the short plaid skirt, resembling one of those trampy Halloween schoolgirl costumes. But it was the only thing that didn’t look like it had to be pried from Michael Jackson’s cold dead hands—circa 1982. With Baba Yaga as my only conduit for fashion, it was this, which fit in better at the library, or banana clips, lace gloves and parachute pants. At least I looked studious. I often wondered how hard Baba Yaga had to try to find clothes that bad. I struggled to sit up on ultra soft bedding.
Marcus walked toward me. His cock bobbed with each step. What was he doing? He stopped when he reached the bed, never releasing my gaze, and paused.
I ceased moving. Leaning one more inch forward would have put me into direct contact with Marcus’s not-so-little problem. Bracing myself in an awkward position, I waited for him to do something. Anything. But he just stood there. I cleared my throat. “Ahhhhh… Do you have a license for that thing?” I glanced at the hard straining tip.
He raised an eyebrow. “What thing?”
I nudged my chin toward his twitching cock. “That.”
He laughed and extended a hand to help me up. “Would you license a paint brush, a piano, or a dancer’s feet?”
My brow furrowed. “No, of course not.”
“Then there’s no need. Trust me, little one. I only use it to create art.”
“But the size… I mean… It could be a weapon of mass destruction.”
He leaned down, placing his arms on either side of me, causing his arousal to rest against my leg. His breath blew hot against my neck.
I gulped, and tried to hold back the shiver growing from inside. “Oh…trust me. Sit back, open those legs for me, and I’ll show you an explosion.”
“Ah… I…you…I mean.” The shiver overcame me and he noticed. Fuck.
His smirk fueled my resolve. I used my feet to propel myself backward across the bed and in the process rolled over the edge. Son of a bitch. Before I could stand, he was there grabbing me by the arms and pulling me to my feet. In slow motion, my eyes drifted lower to the large erection resting against my stomach. “Dear God… Don’t you have a holster or something?”
“No, but I can think of a warm, wet sheath I could put it in.”
I smacked his chest repeatedly. “Get out of my way.”
He stepped aside, allowing me to pass on my way to the closet.
What a freak show. I pulled a leg warmer from one of the shelves and held it up in front of me. I closed one eye and compared the size of the warmer to the size of Marcus’s member. “Here. Why don’t you put this blinder on that bad boy?”
“Why? Are you distracted? I assure you, he’s rather fond of you.” He crossed his arms.
“Ewwww… That thing has plundered every hole in the nether realm. I can only imagine the diseases.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m a vampire. I’m immune to disease, and you’re immortal.”
“But just the thought.” I crossed my arms. “Do I need to remind you that you fucked a spider tonight? A spider. Did you run out of human woman to screw?” I turned back to the closet and mumbled loud enough for him to hear me. “How do you fuck a spider anyway? I mean…do they even have vaginas?”
“Do you have to use such unladylike language? Besides, as I’ve already told you, she was completely human during the deed,” he grumbled.
I tossed a Gem and the Holograms T-shirt at him and laughed. “Unladylike? If I’m unladylike, what are the hordes of women who lined up for a one-night stand with you? Jesus Christ, you have some fucking nerve.” I probably could have left off the adjective, but why pass up a way to irritate him.
“I don’t care what they say or who they are, I just don’t like hearing profanity coming from you.” He stared at the shirt. “This is a woman’s size six. It’ll never fit.” He tossed it back at me.
“Why the fuck do you care what I say?”
Growling he commanded, “Stop saying it.” His stare grew icy. “I don’t know why. Maybe because it doesn’t match how I see you. But either way, you need to stop.”
Looking over my shoulder, I raised an eyebrow. “How the fuck do you see me? I’m not even sure how you’ve made any type of judgment about me, we just fucking met.” I slammed the closet door shut in frustration. “Nothing’s gonna fit.”
“We could climb into bed. You won’t be able to see me under the covers.”
“Oh, great idea.” I ran to the bed and pulled back the blankets revealing the crisp white sheet. I pulled it free. “Here wrap this around your waist.”
He did as I instructed, but the tented front made me giggle.
“What now?” he groused, crossing his arms.
“It looks like you’re surrendering.”
His gaze drifted lower to his protruding shaft. He stared for a moment, and then slowly lifted his chin until his eyes met mine. “If anyone is going to surrender, it’s you.”
I laughed. “You’d have to kill me. Oh that’s right, you’re going to anyway.” I walked to the sink on the other side of the room, stopped, and spun. “You’re undead?”
“Yes.” He quirked an eyebrow.
“I swear to God if you defile my body after I’m dead—”
He cut me off. “That is beyond disgusting. There is a big difference between dead and undead. Is that what you really think of me?”
I picked up the glass and stared into it. “Not necessarily, but it never hurts to clarify.”
He walked toward me, but didn’t come too close, instead taking a seat on the sofa. “I’m trying to think of the best way to summon Baba Yaga.”
“So you’re king and you don’t know how to summon good ol’ Baba her
self?”
“No, I have people that can do that for me.” He stretched his arms, locking his hands behind his head while staring at the ceiling.
I took a sip of water and peered at the ripples on the surface. “I have an idea.”
Chapter 5
Lace
With scissors in hand, I ran to the closet, pulled out a pair of cheap lace underwear Baba Yaga had included in her dysfunction junction clothes collection and cut them in half. I paused. Nothing. I closed the blades over the cloth again and shredded the fabric. I waited. Still nothing. “Fuck.”
“Language,” he chided.
I quieted the urge that grew inside telling me to throw the scissors at him. “Son of a bitch. That should have worked.”
He growled. “I’m going to start punishing you every time you don’t act like a lady.”
“I manipulated you into promising to kill me, do you honestly think I’d fear your punishment? And a lady? Please…”
He rose from the sofa and stalked toward me like a lion on the hunt. His dark skin and sculpted body no less majestic than the king of the beasts. As he approached, something overcame me. A feeling I didn’t understand. Lust perhaps? If I didn’t know better, I’d call it longing, but that was impossible.
Before I could register what had happened, I was pinned to the wall, my arms stretched up above my head and grasped in his fists. He pressed his body against mine and seemed to almost purr. “There are so many ways to punish you. It makes my mouth water just thinking about them.” He leaned his head back and bared his fangs. “It would be a shame for you to die having not known one of the greatest pleasures—a vampire’s bite. It can be addictive.” He ran his fangs up the side of my neck, grazing my skin with his teeth.
I shivered. I didn’t want to enjoy his touch, but my body was on fire. Fucking vampire mojo.
“You want to know a secret, little one?”
I swallowed as he pressed his erection harder against my belly. “Maybe.” Did I really want to know? Could I stand not knowing?
His tongue drew a hot, wet trail up my neck to my ear. “The reason I sleep around so much is not for the reasons you think.” His lips pressed against my skin, causing me to shiver. “It’s because if I bite the same person three times, I become bound to them. It’s impossible for me to plunge my cock into a woman and not sample her blood. I’m a vampire, remember? Consider my promiscuous ways a bit of insurance.” He licked my earlobe.
So that’s how he justified it. “Why should I care what you do?”
“Because…” he placed a kiss beside my lips. “That’s the thing about the blood oath, I get to decide when I kill you, and until then you’re mine to do with as I please. Can’t you feel it? My blood in your veins. You won’t be able to leave me, which means I can take my time and dish out the sweetest torture.” His mouth closed over mine and even though I wanted to push him away, my body betrayed me. How the fuck could he do this to me? The blood oath? I wasn’t supposed to be able to feel these things for anyone.
I pulled away and managed to catch my breath. “I guess I won’t have to wait too long. You’ll never take it as far as the third fuck.”
He growled in my ear. “Bend over.”
“What?”
“I’m no longer warning you. You either correct that vulgar mouth of yours, or I redden your bottom.” His wicked grin sent a shiver through my body like an omen. “Or I could put your mouth to better use. You can suck my cock a million times and we never risk a bond.” The rumble grew from deep in his chest. “Hmmmmmm… I like that idea so much better. Would you like to rephrase your comment in a more appropriate manner, or would you like to get on your knees? The choice, this time, is a luxury.” He clutched my chin. “Decide.”
The “fuck you” had already formed in my head when a scream tore through the room.
“How could you?” Baba Yaga smoothed her broomstick skirt.
I stared at her feet in fascination. “Are those jelly shoes?” I had never worn the plastic footwear myself; they looked like something a child might eat rather than something a grown woman would put on her feet.
“Yes. How could you? I bought those clothes especially for you.”
I lowered my head out of respect for the ancient leader of all the witches, hell, the entire supernatural world. Even though I hated her on one hand for imprisoning me because of the political pressure to keep me under control, I could always see the regret in her eyes and her attempts to make my life easier did not go unnoticed.
I was about speak when she focused in on my guest.
“Marcus, what are you doing here, and why are you dressed like that? You weren’t doing unsavory things to my darling Eudora, were you? She deserves better.”
His drooping sheet hung low between his legs, covering his assets. Thank God. But I answered for him. “He got himself into a bit of a bind, and I helped him out of it.” I glanced at him, trying to decide if I should tell her about the little arachnid problem he had or enjoy the hell out of watching him grovel before Baba Yaga. I moved to the sofa, flopped into the seat, perched my elbow on the back of the sofa, and rested my chin upon my arm, ready for the entertainment to begin.
Baba Yaga cocked her head to the left and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. She zeroed in on Marcus again. “What have you done?”
Amazing. The woman had powers beyond anyone or anything I had ever seen, but you would never tell it given the one sleeve, gold lame shirt she wore.
She growled through gritted teeth. “You gave her your blood?” She accused.
He stood taller, seeming to want to reclaim his dignity. “I had no choice.”
“Who coerced you into such a thing?”
I sat up, waved one hand, and smiled. “I did.”
They both glared at me, but it was Baba who spoke. “Why on earth would you do that? You know that he has some control over you now.”
“Yes, but it was a small price to pay. Besides, he can’t have too much control, he hasn’t been able to shut me up yet.” I winked at Marcus. “He’s going to fulfill that very special request that you always deny me.” I had begged Baba Yaga to kill me many times, but she refused. Something about time not passing like it did when I was human, my inability to process it, and this was why it was forbidden to even associate with humans, let alone date them.
Her head snapped in Marcus’s direction. “You agreed to kill her?”
“Yes, he did.” A satisfied smirk crossed my face.
“You can’t do that, Marcus. We need her here. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s only been here five years. That is nothing for an immortal.”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, and the thought of living forever without knowing love, never fitting in, and being stuck in the godforsaken library would make me kill myself if I could. So Marcus was kind enough to pledge me the favor.”
“Was he now?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what this means don’t you? You know what happens if you don’t fulfill the oath?” She focused her attention on Marcus’s expression.
It was impossible to miss the worried look on his face, but he saved that for Baba Yaga, all I got was his death stare.
“No…” He spoke to Baba but kept his penetrating stare fixed on me. “What does it mean?”
“If you don’t kill her soon, you’ll grow weaker every day until you do or you will perish.”
“What? That’s impossible. It was just a blood oath. I get to decide when and until then she’s under my influence.”
Baba laughed. “If you weren’t so arrogant, I might feel bad for you, but Eudora has a little secret don’t you, dear? She didn’t just ingest your blood, you ingested hers—blood infused with the power of an ancient warlock. That exchange turned your spell into a curse.”
“Oops.” I covered my mouth with my fingertips and feigned innocence.
Marcus sucked in a deep breath. “That’s impossible.”
I tried to wipe the smug look off my fac
e, but couldn’t. “It only takes a drop, and you were a bit distracted, if I remember correctly.”
His nostrils flared. “How could you?”
“I wasn’t going to be your slave, too Marcus. I needed a little insurance.”
Baba Yaga put her hand on her hip. She looked like she was heading to an audition for Flashdance. “I take great offense to the slave comment. I have seen to your comforts.”
“Even a gilded cage is still a prison.” I narrowed my eyes at her.
She shifted her stance. “Well, if that’s how you see it.” She took two long steps toward Marcus and smiled. “Marcus, if you kill her, I’ll have no choice but to hand you over to Leticia.”
His eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, I know about your little eight-legged indiscretion. That’s going to be quite a mess to clean up. Until I have everything smoothed over with her, you’ll need to stay here with Eudora.”
I groaned. I didn’t want him here; it was way too dangerous with all the strange things I had been feeling since meeting him. Perhaps there was more connection in the curse than I’d realized.
Baba Yaga turned so she could see us both. “So, if you kill her, you’re dead. If you don’t, you’re dead. Kind of sucks to be you, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She stepped closer to him and even though she addressed him directly, she did so loud enough for me to hear. “The mating bond is stronger than the blood curse. It would completely cancel the effect, but that might cramp your style, Marcus. Then again so would being dead-dead, instead of undead.” She shook her long blonde locks. “Oh and Eudora, the next time you destroy any of the clothes I bought you, I’m cancelling your cleaning spell. Immortality with dishpan hands—the horror. Tootles.”
With that, she disappeared.
“Bloody goddamn witches,” Marcus groused, and then he looked up at me and gave me the most sinister grin. “I know how to solve this problem.”
A wave of fear rushed through me as I registered the look on his face.
An instant later, Baba Yaga reappeared and tapped Marcus on the chest. Her finger impacted his hard pec with each punctuated word. “I heard that.” She waved her hand, and with the other flung a glittery substance at him, while chanting three indiscernible words. On the last syllable, she smacked him upside the head. “There, that should fix my almost unfortunate mistake.”