Let Them Eat Cake (11 page)

She’d screamed at him in her nightmare, knowing he couldn’t hear her, and watched in horror as he’d led the woman into the park and to a secluded glade. He loved making love outside. They’d joked about how he could draw energy from the lush greenery surrounding him, which enabled him to last forever and bring a woman to peak multiple times before he lost control. This ability made him very popular with both human and paranormal women.

Over and over again she’d shrieked a warning to NeeKata in the nightmare, trying in vain to stop him when the monster motioned for him to strip, then watched in helpless torment as Mormo’s first touch rendered him unable to move. With NeeKata frozen in place, the bitch dropped to her knees. In the nightmare, she could feel Nee’s growing concern and could see the green filaments of his energy drain as the Empousai grabbed his hips and settled her mouth over his groin to suck him dry. Shared the wrench of pain he felt as his strength left his body.

The shared pain broke the nightmare’s hold.

Nearing the park, she quickly reviewed her options. Luke said once an Empousai has frozen her victim, she wouldn’t leave them behind. So she needed to leave the bitch without the option of taking NeeKata with her.

In her nightmare she’d seen Mormo immobilize him with a touch to bare skin. Maria wore steel-reinforced leather combat boots. She just hoped they’d knock the damn demon away from her prey without allowing Mormo the opportunity to touch her flesh.

She didn’t know if it would work. But it seemed her only option.

Reaching the clearing, she looked down on the horrendous sight of the Empousai drawing back from taking a bite out of NeeKata. She could see the torn flesh in his leg and the gushing blood. A quick psychic scan told her his heart still beat. He was alive.

As she started her descent, the smell wafting above the glade almost knocked her over. Why hadn’t Nee noticed the horrible stench and run in the opposite direction?

She picked up speed and plummeted feet-first toward the Empousai. The monster glanced at her with jaws dripping bits of flesh and running with blood, just before Maria slammed boots-first into her side and knocked Mormo ass over teacup, a good six feet away from Nee. Maria happily discovered she’d been right, she could still move. The information that the Empousai needed bare-skin contact to paralyze its intended victim was a good thing to file away.

Luke’s description, as detailed and disgusting as it was, fell far short of the impact of having the creature in front of her. Dealing with the reality of the ugly demon was something else, and Maria stood in stupefied horror as the bitch lost her illusion of beauty and became the freak of nature she truly was. The mind-boggling, writhing mass of snakes on the Emp’s head was repulsive. The hissing, ash-gray vipers definitely had a life of their own. Luke had said an area of complete darkness blocked the Empousai’s true facial features, and just glowing eyes would be visible if you saw her in her true form.

He’d speculated Mormo’s face wasn’t just shrouded in darkness but was so horrible the mind blocked the reality from the brain. He also said other demons could actually see the face, and the sight is so horrible they run from her in fear.

Well, Maria didn’t want to know if the face really could be worse than the rest of the body. She would be forever grateful her mind blocked the ghoul from her feeble psyche. Jeez! The scales and the huge creepy bat wings just added to the apparition’s repulsive appearance.

The Emp’s hands ended in razor-tipped claws and she had a long reptilian tail. This had to be one of the most hideous creatures on Earth, but Maria just witnessed how the soul could be worse. “Butt-ugly creature,” Maria mumbled.

The Empousai had started menacingly in Maria’s direction on two mismatched legs when it evidently heard her halfhearted slur, and screamed as if in pain. The shrill shriek brought Maria back to the task at hand—staying alive and getting rid of the flesh-eating monster so she could treat Nee’s wounds.

“You revoltingly grotesque, spindly-legged, metal gargoyle-hoofed bitch of an Empousai, you!” she yelled, as she fished through her backpack. She felt ridiculous. But Luke said the only thing that worked to get rid of the Emp was insults.

She wasn’t sure she trusted her vocabulary. Pulling out her revolver, she turned and pointed it at Mormo. Maria wanted nothing more than to cover her ears in protection against the piercing screech and to stop breathing the foul, disgusting odor. Instead, she raised the gun and emptied the full clip of silver bullets into the beast’s chest.

Where the insulting words made Mormo stop in her tracks to scream, the bullets didn’t do a damn thing. Oh, she was bleeding. She just didn’t seem to care. “Fuck, you cesspool-smelling, garbage-breath, gross, cow-legged leviathan. How in the hell do I kill you?” she screamed, as she threw her gun to the side and grabbed a handful of shurikens. The little metal stars probably wouldn’t do shit except make Maria feel better.

She didn’t wait for the freaking mutant to recover from her last stint of verbal abuse. She started throwing the discs at the head, the chest…the creature seemed to ignore them until one hit and stuck in Mormo’s right foot. The Emp’s left leg looked like a donkey’s back leg. The right was similar, but instead of flesh and fur, it seemed to be made of brass. The silver throwing star was buried about half an inch, just above the brass-looking hoof, and Maria watched the result of the hit in amazement.

Now
there
was a reaction!

Blood spurted in a surging gush from the wound and the creature’s screams turned to panicked sobs as she danced around, trying to shake the embedded blade free. The wound shouldn’t have earned such an extreme response but Mormo seemed to forget all about Maria. Her entire concentration and distress centered on her injured foot.

Maria could hear the cavalry coming to the rescue, the sounds of men crashing through bushes music to her ears. Not wanting to lose her small advantage, she kept her eyes on the Empousai. “Look, fungus hoof,” she started to say, when a blast of fire shot out of the woods from Maria’s right.

She looked over to see Justin. Grim-faced and intent on blasting the Empousai with the flamethrower, he looked like an avenging angel. She glanced over her shoulder to see Brian on the phone and Matt working to stop NeeKata’s bleeding. Good, her boys would take care of him.

When she turned around the Empousai was gone, leaving behind scorched earth and smelly pools of demon blood. The minute the creature disappeared she could hear Nee’s sobbing explanation of what had happened. Another little fact to file away—make the bad Emp disappear and her victims regain the ability to move and talk.

She would have been a lot happier about Mormo’s disappearance if Justin wasn’t headed in her direction in obvious rage. It didn’t take psychic skill to sense he was pissed off about her fighting the Empousai alone.

Chapter Nine

“NeeKata will live,” Dr. Morgan said with a sigh. “He’s lost a great deal of blood, has some severely torn muscle and tissue that will need to regenerate, and he will need an elfin healer to assist him with the energy draw…I can’t help him replace what he’s lost. But his injuries will heal. You got to him in time, Maria.”

Maria nodded and thanked Morgan. He never seemed to be baffled by the strange cases she brought him—he just worked on patching them all up. He was quiet, unassuming and brilliant, his hidden clinic well-funded and top of the line due to the money that paranormals “gifted” him with after treatment. She watched the tall, dark-haired doctor as he went back to taking care of Nee and allowed her shoulders to relax a little as she glanced around the room.

Brian and Matt stood to one side, huddled together for support. Justin leaned against the stark white wall…glaring at her. And Luke sat sprawled on the small waiting room couch. They were in the private clinic Dr. Morgan kept in his home for the Council’s use. They all looked relieved at his pronouncement.

“So. What did you think of Mormo, Maria?” Luke drawled.

Maria watched Justin from the corner of her eye. His body stiffened when Luke spoke. Justin hadn’t spoken to her in anything but one-word sentences since he’d charged into the glade. His anger appeared to expand with each second instead of dissipate. She could feel his psychic turmoil, his need to get her alone. With a mental sigh, she turned to answer Luke’s question. “Lovely creature. I think we learned a few things about her we can use, though.”

“Like what?” Luke asked.

“Like the fact that when I hit her with my boots to knock her away from Nee, her freezing ability didn’t have an affect on me. Mormo didn’t paralyze me or cause any harm. And she seriously hates having her feet injured. She went postal when I managed to lodge one of my shurikens in her ankle.”

“Hey,” Brian interjected. “What if she’s like a reverse vampire. You know…‘cut off her feet and she bleeds to death’ kind of thing. In a way, it would be a weird explanation of why she’s so sensitive about her feet. All the Web references on the Emp mention how she reacts very strongly to any mention of her hooves. Doesn’t like any attention paid to them. Stranger things have happened. After all, there was that old Greek god whose heels were his weak point.”

Maria frowned. When she looked around the room, she could see the others seemed to have similar blank looks on their faces. What if… Nah, that was crazy.

As if he were still trying to reason out things in his mind, Luke answered in a slow drawl, “So. We what? Try and cut off her feet? One is made of some metallic-looking substance, but Maria said it bled when the star was embedded in her foot.”

“Not just bled. That sounds like the wound dripped a little. We are talking gushing blood—like a major artery was cut. And my stars are made of a special metal with embedded cutting diamonds in the blades,” Maria corrected. She couldn’t concentrate on the conversation. Justin’s anger seemed to pulse over her in waves.

She felt pulled toward him, the impulse to soothe and comfort overwhelming her. She didn’t get it. She tried to block his emotional projection and failed, which confused her even more.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Makes it seem like a good idea. She has never cared about any wounds she’d received before.”

“Trust me. She didn’t like this one. She forgot all about me and started dancing around and shrieking loud enough to wake the dead. Damn bitch was hysterical.” Maria managed to pull her thoughts away from Justin’s seething emotions and back to the discussion.

“Maria is right, she didn’t even notice me. I think the flamethrower just added to her misery, it wasn’t what made her leave. It worries me though, Luke. You said when she gets hurt or injured she’d feed more often, which means she’ll be on the hunt soon,” Justin put in. The words ringing with suppressed emotion.

“Yeah, soon. I can tell you the vampire, Michael, was another of her victims. So we know she’s killed at least twice in this area,” Luke said. He turned to look at Maria, a scowl on his face. “Remember, don’t go out alone—”

Maria didn’t have a chance to hear the rest of his warning as Justin grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door. “We’re taking the Hummer back to the penthouse. Luke can give Brian and Matt a ride.” He didn’t wait for comment, just herded her in the direction of the car, irritation and anger radiating from him with every step.

Justin felt his anger boil and surge once Maria was in the passenger seat. He was out of control and he knew it, but didn’t seem to be able to raise the mental energy to care. He was furious with Maria for going after the creature on her own, and this overwhelming sentiment seemed to have a life of its own.

He wanted to throw her down and show her who was boss in the most elemental way he knew how. Fuck her and make her scream his name in submission, force her to bow to his demands.

He didn’t take her back to her apartment. No. He wanted her on his own turf, at his mercy. Each time she started to say something, he held up his hand. “Don’t!” he bit out, using everything he had to get them home. His home. Instead of pulling into a dark alley somewhere so he could relieve this driving need to possess her.

He pulled in front of his house, a small Victorian he planned on renovating when he had the time, and plucked her from the car. Not allowing her feet to touch the ground, he carried her to the front door, barking out the command, “Open the door.”

He felt Maria’s gaze, felt her body shift in his arms as she waved one hand at the small structure, and the door slid open. The quick compliance to his demand did little to satisfy his need to force her acquiescence.

He didn’t stop in the hallway except to use his foot to slam the door closed behind them. “Lock it,” he growled. Again he felt her move in his arms to motion at the door behind them. He flew up the stairs and strode, impatient and driven, to the room at the end of the hall.

He dumped her in the middle of his bed and snapped out another command, “Don’t move one inch or say one word.” He reached to pull his shirt over his head.

Maria raised her eyebrows at him for a second, then she visibly relaxed and laid back on his bed. He watched to make sure she didn’t miss the size of his erection as he stripped off his jeans and boots. He wanted to be sure she knew his body strained to claim her.

“Damn you, Maria. You could have been killed, eaten alive like the rest of her victims.” As he railed at her, he moved to use the shirt he’d taken off to tie her hands and loop them over the raised center of the headboard. He never questioned her silent acceptance of this. Or hesitated over his growing need to have her helpless beneath him. His actions were fueled by something deep within.

It was right. She was his to command. The sentiments reverberated thought his soul.

Once her hands were bound and he settled a few pillows behind her upper back, he straddled her waist and brought his hands up to the flimsy fabric at the neck of her sweatshirt. With one pull he tore the shirt in half, dragging it away from her to bare her naked breasts. She’d not bothered to put on a bra before going to the fairy’s rescue. The sight reminded him of the terror he experienced.

He reached out with both hands to pull at her nipples. He pinched her, pulling on them as he stared into her gray-blue eyes, at the shocked heat that blossomed in their depths.

“You put yourself at risk. Left me behind to worry and see your body in my mind…tortured and bloody.” He squeezed his fingers tighter, felt her stomach muscles clench tight beneath him, the quivering flesh teasing his ass. He moved forward, positioning his cock between the soft mounds and using his hands to press her breasts against his shaft. He flexed his hips, drawing forward and back…plunging into the cradle he’d made of her plump tits. He groaned as, with the next upward thrust, Maria bent her head down and stuck out her tongue to lap across the slit in the crown.

He surged up, his hands going to the sides of her head, and he guided her mouth to his groin. “Suck me!” he demanded in a husky growl. “Use your teeth, make me bleed and suck me some more.”

He lost it. Lost the care and sensitivity he’d always used when he loved her. He knew he pulled her hair, knew his hands were rough against her head as he forced her to pleasure him. He set the pace, not allowing her to withdraw or turn her head to the side. He rode her mouth, his cock swollen and ready to burst, the pull of wet heat wrapped around him making his skin crawl with the erotic demand for more.

He felt the scrape and sting as her teeth cut into him. Cried out as the heated suction of her mouth drew more pleasure, more pain from him, and his cock expanded further. Not enough.

“Damnyoudamnyoudamnyou,” he cried, as he moved off her, fumbling with the button and zipper at her waist and pulling her pants and shoes off in one rough move. He fell on her, using his aggression to push her thighs apart with his knees, to let his turgid cock root in the damp heat between her legs. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help cursing her carelessness, her disregard for her own safety. The tape in his mind rolled the images of what could have been in a relentless loop. He was losing his sanity.

“Mine!” he screamed out, as he surged into the tight channel of her cunt. “Mine!” he growled against her skin, taking one nipple into his mouth and biting in restrained need. Lapping the small amount of blood from the little wound, he drew back…the taste…the punch of added sensual heat he gained from her blood blazed through him…going straight to his cock.

“Mineminemineminemine,” he shouted over and over as he pounded into her. And he kept pounding through her first orgasm, through the mewled cries as she begged him to stop and then begged him for more as she peaked again. His body was driven with the mindless need to brand her, his psyche locked on the notion that she was his, his to pleasure, his to possess…body and soul.

With one final shout, he erupted within her, the orgasm raking him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. He collapsed on top of her. His mind and body now able to rest.

Maria couldn’t believe it. He’d tied her up, made her body contort and shriek with pleasure and then passed out on top of her. With her hands still tied to the damn bed.

She expected a verbal lashing when he’d forced her into the car and driven her to his home. Not this primeval caveman routine, dragging his woman by the hair and tying her to the bed. She winced. Her hair hurt. Her arms hurt. The part of her body still joined to his hurt. But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she’d enjoyed every minute of it.

Prehistoric macho bullshit evidently turned her on. She shrugged and winced again. Once and a while, anyway. Now what? Did she use her psychic powers to untie the shirt holding her to the bed and move him off her? Or would that set him off again? She sighed. There was no way she was going to stay in this position one second longer.

With a thought she released her hands and rolled Justin to the side. She crawled off the bed, her knees buckling under her weight as she struggled toward what she prayed was the master bathroom. Jeez. The man had incredible stamina and power for a human. One of these days she’d make sure to pay him back. She grinned wickedly as she turned on the lights, her lust-filled thoughts completely wiped from her mind as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Holy shit! Her hair looked like a rat moved in and set up housekeeping. Scratch that…an entire family of rats. Her makeup was smeared and she had red, swollen patches of skin across her chest that had to be whisker burn—and a bruised, open cut with little flecks of dried blood where Justin bit her nipple.

She groaned, for a moment caught up in the reality of exchanging blood with her all-too-human lover. But he couldn’t have ingested more than a small mouthful. Hopefully. She did not need or want a blood zombie. She would never do that to Justin.

The gasping sound behind her the only warning she was no longer alone, she ducked her head and tried to cover her body with her hands. She did not want him seeing her looking like the hag of death.

“Maria, oh, God. Baby, I’m so sorry,” Justin cried out in obvious pain. “I hurt you.”

Maria straightened and with a quick flourish of her hand she settled her hair into smooth, tangle-free strands and cleared her face of makeup. It would take a day’s sleep to repair the small cut at her breast, so she added a light robe before she turned to him. “You did not hurt me,” she said with indignant reproach.

“But I—”

“Stop it, Justin. Look at me. You did not hurt me,” she repeated. “You fucked me well and hard, and if you think about it, you’ll remember the sounds I made were not ones of pain but of pleasure. I am certain you will also remember that if I wanted you off me, if I wanted out of here…you couldn’t have held me.” She pushed him to the side—thoughts of soaking in a hot bath taking a back seat to dealing with his perceived ill treatment of her—stomped back into the bedroom and turned to glare at him. How dare he think so little of her powers?