Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 (8 page)

“Not yet,” he growled at me, intuiting
as always my level of arousal. I chewed on the tie gagging me,
fighting to keep whimpered pleas from creeping out to displease
him.

We were engaged in a united battle of
wills against our bodies now, both of us determined to make me
prove my obedience to Tristan. I could see the concentration on my
lover’s face as he tortured himself as much as me by making himself
hold back. Need worked his face as he took me. Small moans escaped
him with every breath.

I was being stretched to the breaking
point, clammy sweat breaking out over my skin as I held off with
all I had. Feeling Tristan moving in and out, the friction lighting
sparks that threatened to send me over, was delicious and terrible
all at once. And I had no choice but to keep my legs splayed wide
open to accept his assault!

Being a sub is a horribly wonderful
thing.

At last he couldn’t take anymore.
Tristan fell over me, his body covering mine like a blanket as his
hips beat against me in a desperate tattoo. His groin was tight to
mine, rubbing my clit with every eager thrust. Blinding sensation
licked through my lower body, dragging me towards
climax.

No, no, no. He hasn’t given
permission.

My eyes were squeezed shut, my jaw
clenched in a teeth-shattering bite, my hands fisted until my
fingernails bit into my palms. Tickling heat seized my loins,
pulling me into the abyss. I was going over.

No, darn it, hold on, he hasn’t said I
can!

I was at the top of the peak,
excruciating bliss starting its cascade, laying hold and tensing to
fling me out into space.

NopleaseTristannowpleaserightnow!

“Now, Brandilynn! Come now!”

His shout came just as I dissolved into
a gazillion tiny suns, all exploding at once in a cataclysm of
white-hot oblivion. Orgasm hurled me into eternity, every cell
seeming to swirl in its own delighted dance through the cosmos. I
expanded and expanded until I must have broken the edges of the
universe.

When I coalesced back into my own
little Planet Brandilynn, Tristan was laying on top of me once
more, offering little moans while his cock twitched spasms inside
me. I’d lost all sense of him during my explosion, hadn’t noticed
his climax at all. Delayed gratification is good like
that.

After a little while Tristan began to
stir. He propped himself on his elbows with considerable effort.
“Ties off, sweetheart,” he whispered.

With a wish, my gag was gone and my
wrists free. His kiss was incredibly luscious, and I wrapped my
arms and legs around him.

“I think I died again,” I told him
after our lips parted company.

He chuckled. “Not such a bad way to go,
huh?”

“Not at all.”

Looking at him, his handsome face
smiling down at me, I thought, I really love you. I wished I could
tell him.

Bless his heart, Tristan has no such
inhibitions, none of my issues with commitment. “I love you. Thanks
for making me such a happy man.”

I kissed him again. “You are the best
master ever. I mean that. You are amazing.”

He was so cute as he swelled with
pride. “Decades of practice, my girl.”

“Yeah, well it shows. I’m lucky to be
your sub.”

There was more cuddling, more heartfelt
and undoubtedly disgustingly mushy compliments as we came down from
the high of our play. We were so saccharine, anyone watching
probably would have left the scene with scores of
cavities.

It was wonderful.

Too soon it was time to leave each
others’ arms. Tristan has duties, even when he’s dead, and I needed
to get back on the case with the Beasts. I affected the leather
dress I’d conjured earlier for Tristan’s admiration.

“Maybe I should ride a motorcycle,” he
said with a leer.

I laughed. Tristan is so not the biker
type. Stick him in a limo. A Mercedes. He’d look right in a Rolls
Royce. But a Harley? Or Bane’s chopper? Uh-uh.

Looking impossibly elegant even in
charcoal gray slacks and a black button-down shirt, Tristan
embraced me goodbye. “Dan will be in to check on you from time to
time. I want him to find out all the ATF knows while you keep tabs
on the Beasts.”

“Will do, boss.” I kissed the tip of
his aristocratic nose.

“Be careful, sweetheart. I don’t know
what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

The sudden attack of seriousness made
me blink. A flutter erupted in my stomach. “Hey, this is Brandilynn
Payson you’re talking to.”

That made him smirk. “Exactly my
point.”

I pouted. Jeez, neither of my
boyfriends had any faith in me to stay out of trouble.

Chapter 4

I returned to the Beasts’ club,
sticking my head in cautiously to look out for the witch. I saw
nothing but a couple of shifters playing pool and four women. The
place was pretty dead during the day, apparently. Even the music
was tolerable, the local hard rock station playing one of my
favorite Shinedown tunes. Two women were cleaning the bar, adding
the scent of Windex to the bouquet of booze, sweat, animal musk,
and leather. The other two females, Fizz and C.K.’s gal pal Bottle,
sat at a table with their heads together.

I wondered what ‘property’ talked about
when their owners weren’t around. How great it is to be at the beck
and call of men who don’t see you as a viable person in your own
right? How lovely to be given to a man for his use like a tie on
Father’s Day? Shudder. Yeah, I know I’d been thinking about being
slave to Tristan’s master earlier today, but it was just a little
fantasy, one I hadn’t taken seriously for a moment. And Tristan
wasn’t a jerk that saw me as a convenient piece of arse, there
simply for him to use whenever he had the urge.

I just couldn’t imagine being someone
else’s ‘property’. Heck, I suck at being a steady
girlfriend.

I wandered over to the two ladies,
hoping perhaps their gossip might clue me into what was nefarious
at Club Beast. If you’re nothing more than another piece of
furniture to the bad guys, maybe they let slip a secret or
two?

Fizz’s lean face was pinched with
self-righteous anger. She had a bee in her bonnet for sure, and I
soon found out why.

“No matter what I do he won’t touch me.
What man turns down willing pussy? I’m telling you, Bane is a fag.”
She gestured wildly as she whispered, her cigarette sending arcing
smoke signals around her head.

Bottle nodded slowly, her expression
grave as if discussing a terminally ill child. “C.K. needs to know.
We don’t want their kind in here.”

I had to snort my disbelief. Thank
goodness no one here could hear me make such a gross, unladylike
sound. “So criminals and murderers are okay, but homosexuals
aren’t? When do the smart pills show up in Stupid Land,
girls?”

C.K. walked into the room from the
back, looking like a cross between a fire hydrant and Porky Pig.
Good gosh, he was squat and ugly. He waved acknowledgement to the
guys playing pool when they sent out greetings. He parked himself
at the table he’d sat at the night before and bellowed, “Bottle!
Drink!”

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it.
He sounded like a mean baby. I waited for him to yell, “Diaper!
Poopie!”

“I’ll talk to him,” Bottle said to
Fizz.

She got up from the table to leave Fizz
smoking in righteous indignation. Bottle was wearing a jean jacket
that had Property of C.K. stitched on the back. Pride in being
owned, I guessed. I shook my head.

She had C.K.’s 180-proof whiskey to him
in a jiffy, earning a slap on the rear that made her stagger. She
smiled at C.K. like he’d just presented her with a diamond tiara
and kneeled by his chair.

“Tits,” he growled, and she went
topless immediately in front of everyone. His hands worked her
freckled, brown-tipped breasts without looking at them or
her.

Jeez. What a goon.

“C.K., there’s a problem with one of
your guys,” she said in a trembling voice that suggested she might
get backhanded for daring to speak.

“This better be good, Bottle. You know
I don’t want to hear stupid shit like some guy grabbed your ass or
had you suck him. That’s what you’re here for.” He pinched her
nipple hard enough that a tear ran down one of her cheeks. She
squirmed the least little bit but didn’t make a
complaint.

“No C.K., it’s serious. One of ‘em
might be queer.”

He finally looked at her, his gaze
cold. He pinched the other nipple hard, and she whimpered. One side
of his mouth twisted up. “Go on.”

She wriggled with delight to have his
undivided attention and positively gushed as she got Bane into
trouble. My sympathy for this low-esteem woman waned as Bottle
whispered to C.K.

Bottle was still running her mouth when
Bane walked in with three other Beast members, calling out gruff
hellos as they entered. The way C.K. scowled let me know big
trouble was up.

I acted fast, barely thinking about
what I was doing. I was at Fizz’s side in an instant. I shoved my
way into her, taking over her body.

This was way different from channeling
in Isabella’s body. The channel opens herself, allowing me to sink
effortlessly into her head. In her trance, she’s not really aware
of my presence.

This was more like a rape, something I
wasn’t proud to do to Fizz. It’s also considered a huge no-no in
the para world, the epitome of bad behavior. This was an emergency
though, so I bullied my way in, seizing control from the stripper,
making her body mine. Inside her head, I felt her shrink away from
my alien intelligence in fear and confusion. She didn’t put up a
fight, and I was able to make her body awkwardly rise and hurry to
Bane’s side. She was lighter and much easier to move in than the
cuddly bulk of Isabella, but I still felt like I slogged along in
mud. Physical bodies are heavy. Not to mention her jeans were too
freakin’ tight. I felt like my legs had been
straitjacketed.

At least there was no difference
between her reality and the spirit world. Not having to look at two
different scenes helped.

Bane stood alone, his companions having
gone straight to the bar. He looked at me as I joined him with a
kind of resigned irritation. “Not now, Fizz.” He started to walk
away.

I grabbed him by the back of his neck
and yanked him close to whisper close to his face. He was too tall
to talk into his pointed wolf ear, which was situated higher on his
head than a human’s.

I kept my voice super low, hoping his
animal-sensitive hearing would pick up the barely breathed words.
“Shut up and listen to me. I’m not Fizz; I’m a ghost who has taken
over her body. You’re in big trouble right now,
Double-Oh-Seven.”

Bane stared down at me, his golden eyes
going wide. His gaze darted around the room, and then he grabbed
Fizz’s upper arm to haul our shared body to a quiet cobwebbed
corner. I winced at the tight grip but made no complaint. I’d
already behaved in a very non-property way in grabbing the
werewolf. I didn’t dare look around to see if anyone had noticed
Fizz becoming assertive.

Once he had me backed into the corner,
Bane growled low and threatening. “Fizz isn’t smart enough to come
up with shit like this. Who the hell are you?”

Sure no one would pickup our whispered
conversation, I took advantage of it to warn him. “Watch the
language, buster. I’m a lady. Fizz is upset because you won’t give
her a ride on Magic Mountain, and now C.K. thinks you’re gay.
Apparently, that’s a big deal in Stupid Land here.”

Bane scowled. “A very big
deal.”

From his chair, C.K. roared, “Bane,
front and center!”

The werewolf agent’s lips wrinkled back
for an instant, displaying very wicked looking teeth. “Stay put
right here. I want to talk to you after I settle this.”

Well, so much for good manners. “You’re
welcome,” I reminded him.

Not picking up the hint, Bane walked
away without thanking me. After a moment, I followed. I wasn’t
property after all. That was Fizz’s gig. Besides, I thought I might
be of help if I stuck close.

My borrowed heart picked up speed as
Levi presented himself to the gang’s leader.

“How’s it going, boss?” Bane asked
mildly as he drew close to C.K.

Everyone had halted whatever they were
doing and crowded close to see what had their little piggy of a
boss grouchy. And grouchy he was with his forehead furrowed, eyes
narrowed, and fists clenched. Next to him, Bottle kneeled with a
smirk on her face.

No, she’d used up all my sympathy where
I was concerned. If I was a cursing girl, I’d have a few choice
names I’d call her.

“It’s not so good, Bane. I hear you’re
not happy with Fizz.” C.K.’s muddy eyes cut to the body I currently
occupied. I felt Fizz shrivel at his angry stare. I kept her
expression as blank as I could. I swear she tried to hide behind my
consciousness.

Well, that’s what you get for whining
and getting others in trouble. Though she couldn’t hear the words,
I thought she might pick up my mood.