Wicked Memories (CASTLE OF DARK DREAMS) (4 page)

I just bet they did
. Kayla now understood why Zane had grabbed the offer to work at Nirvana so quickly.

Okay, she could do this. She really did want to know what was going on before she left, and not only so she could survive Dad’s wrath. She didn’t want him to be able to accuse her of being delusional. Besides, if by chance all of this was real . . . She took a deep breath. She could wear this ridiculous outfit for the one fantasy. Then she’d shed it forever. That wouldn’t take much effort. All she’d have to do was exhale. It would split and fall off like a snake’s old skin. She sort of liked the comparison.

Sparkle led her back into the great hall and over to a stone stairway that spiraled into darkness. “This stairway leads to the upper floors of the castle and down to the dungeon. Most of our guests use the elevator.” She headed down.

Kayla gave silent kudos to whoever had designed the castle. The stone stairway, dimly lit by fake wall sconces, was seriously creepy. Once they reached the bottom, Sparkle led her along a short hallway to a heavy wooden door with a sign reading
DUNGEON
above it. Sparkle swung the door open. Kayla thought the creak was perfect. Someone had paid attention to details.

There were a few other doors along the hallway. Kayla assumed they were storage rooms.

“Guest rooms.” Sparkle stepped into the dungeon.

“Really? I mean, they can’t have any windows, and the lighting is really bad in the hallway. Who’d want to stay in them?”

“Vampires.” Sparkle moved aside so Kayla could see the inside of the dungeon.

Kayla had no response to that, so she looked around her. Stone walls and floor, fireplace with instruments of torture neatly hung beside it, iron maiden, ominous table with restraints, chains attached to the wall with blood smears artistically arranged around them. “I love this.”

Sparkle looked pleased. “Well, finally someone who understands the sensual connection between pain and pleasure.” She thought about that. “Or at least the promise of pain. The imagination is an erotic conduit to—”

“No, no.” Kayla waved her hand frantically. “I didn’t mean that. I meant that I loved the concern for detail.” She breathed deeply. “Someone even added a scent to make it smell like a real dungeon—damp and musty. I can almost smell the fear.”

Sparkle frowned. “That’s the way it always smells.”

“Oh.” Kayla glanced toward the door. “So when are your customers coming?”

“Now.” Sparkle walked over to the torture implement wall on her impossibly high heels, turned on the electric fireplace, and took down a whip. She snapped it. “I feel in a snapping mood tonight.”

“Why an electric fireplace? The wall sconces give off enough light.”

Sparkle didn’t stop snapping her whip. “Every dungeon has to have fire. It’s a reminder of how much pain a burn can inflict. Everything here is a symbol of suffering, even if I never inflict one moment of pain.” She finally glanced at Kayla. “Perception is everything. Remember that.” She ran her hand lovingly over the whip’s handle.

Kayla decided her client was still thinking about her lost employees. But then she forgot about Sparkle as the role-players shuffled into the room. Or at least three of the four shuffled. The fourth one’s movements seemed fluid and confident. He wasn’t into his fantasy role yet.

Kayla hadn’t raised her eyes above knee level because she needed a moment to let her flush fade. Her costume really was embarrassing her.

“On your knees, blood slaves.”

Sparkle didn’t sound as though she was having any trouble getting into the spirit of the fantasy. Kayla needed to take Sparkle as her model. She had to wear her costume with confidence. Raising her gaze, she took her first look at the kneeling men.

They were all shirtless. But that’s all she noticed before three of them completely disappeared from her radar.

He
was here.

3

His body delivered what those wide shoulders had promised—a smooth sculpted chest and a stomach ridged with muscle. But she paused only a moment to admire all that, eager to see what the hoodie had hidden.

His blond hair lay tangled around his face, and strands still fell over his eyes. Brown eyes. Kayla had been right about his face. It was hard, beautiful, and tempting in a way that absolutely terrified her. Because she didn’t want to be drawn to what she sensed in him, didn’t want to be like her parents—overwhelmed by sexual need that drowned out all common sense.

She’d seen men with great bodies and faces before, but he was different.

Her father had taught her to read people. And growing up surrounded by her father’s sometimes shady clients, she’d gotten lots of practice recognizing the darkness some people tried to disguise. His private detective agency flourished because he was willing to sometimes step outside legal lines to get the job done.

But this went beyond ordinary darkness. She felt as though she could almost reach out to turn page after page of a book crowded with secrets stretching back and back and back. Instinct warned her not to open it because there would be shadows, violence, and no promise of a happy ending. The terrifying part? She didn’t care. Dad had taught her better than this.

The man met her gaze and then he smiled. It was breathtaking and triumphant.

That triumphant expression restored her common sense. She didn’t have time for reading. She had a job to do here. A stranger had no part in it. Kayla forced herself to listen to what Sparkle was saying.

“You are my blood slaves.” Sparkle struck a pose—one hand on her hip, the other wielding her whip, head flung back, and chest thrust out. “You will submit to me or . . .”—she slid the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip—“suffer untold agonies.”

One of the men on his knees—a balding fiftyish guy—moaned his joy at Sparkle’s threat.

“Silence.” Sparkle snapped her whip. “No moaning, groaning, or pitiful begging without my permission.”

“Yes, mistress,” the speaker mumbled.

“Now . . .” Sparkle didn’t finish. Instead, she paused to stare at gorgeous-guy. “Do I know you?”

Kayla frowned. She could actually
feel
the tension thrumming through him. What was that about?

He met Sparkle’s gaze. Held it. “No. We’ve never met.” He
didn’t
smile at her.

Sparkle slowly nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know you. But still, there’s something . . .” Once again her voice faded away. Then she shook her head and shifted her attention to the other men. “You may each crawl to me and then kiss the toe of my boot. If you dare to leave a smudge, I’ll be forced to discipline you.”

From the expressions on three of their faces, Kayla had the feeling that Sparkle would be wiping at least three smudges from her boot. She glanced at her blond stranger. Total disinterest. Nope, he wouldn’t be doing any toe-kissing. If he didn’t want to play this role, why had he bothered signing up for it? She shrugged the thought away because Sparkle was looking at her.

“Katnip, you will bind the one to the table who dared meet my gaze.” Sparkle allowed her lids to drift almost shut as she smiled a feline smile of anticipation. “And then you will torment him with your sensual power.”

Whoa. Torment with
what
? Then Kayla realized what Sparkle had called her.
“Catnip?”

“With a K.” Sparkle’s evil smile widened. “The K makes it special.”

Why did she have to be Katnip? Okay, so maybe her real name was a little tame, but Katnip? Really? And she had no intention of doing any tormenting. Certainly not to a man who broadcast “predator” on every one of her sensory airwaves. “Umm, my tormenting skills are a little rusty.”

Sparkle actually hissed at her. “You are a
succubus
. And as a
succubus
, you can’t
wait
to wreak sexual havoc on his body and mind. Do it.”

Kayla narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like Sparkle’s tone of voice. This wasn’t why she’d come to the castle. It would serve her client right if she marched out of this dungeon, out of the damn castle, and didn’t stop marching until she reached Hobby Airport.

Sparkle must have read her expression, because she glared at Kayla. “Paying customers here. We’ll talk later.” Then without missing a beat, she continued speaking to the other three men. “If you appear submissive enough, I might allow you to touch my fingertip.”

Kayla would have stormed from the dungeon right then if she hadn’t seen the weariness in Sparkle’s eyes. Her client had gone through a lot tonight. Kayla sighed. She could finish this one fantasy.

Sparkle was busy baring her teeth. “But if you’re clumsy or dare look at me without permission, you’ll receive the punishment
that
one is about to endure.” She sneered at Kayla’s victim.

The three men looked envious. Kayla stared them down.
Please,
no.
She wasn’t succubus enough for four men.

But Sparkle wasn’t done. “And if you truly annoy me, I’ll spank your bare asses until they’re bright red.”

The three men’s eyes glazed with the glorious possibilities. Kayla decided she was off the hook for the moment—she glanced at the fourth one—except with
him
.

But he wasn’t looking at her. He’d dropped his gaze, long dark lashes shielding his expression. Kayla took a deep breath. May as well get this over with. She coughed to clear her suddenly closed throat.

“Rise and spread your disobedient body on the table of pain.” Her voice came out raspy. Ohmigod, could she sound any cheesier? She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

He still didn’t lift his gaze, but he did obey her. He rose in one lithe motion, strode to the table, and lay down on his back. She sighed her relief.

Kayla secured the cuffs around his ankles and wrists. Each time she accidentally brushed his bare skin she tried to deny a tingle of . . . something.
Forget stupid tingles of unknown origins. What would a sexual demon say?
Kayla pressed her lips together and stared at him. Her head emptied of words.

He looked up at her. “Well, I’m here at your mercy.” His unspoken question was, “So what’re you going to do about it?”

She doubted this man would ever be at anyone’s mercy, and she didn’t have a clue what to do about him. Kayla skimmed his body with a gaze she suspected would leave blisters in its wake and watched his stomach muscles clench in response. She didn’t want to seem gleeful. It was too close to the look of triumph he’d given her. But she couldn’t help it. Her lips tipped up in the beginning of a smile.

“You have plans, I assume.” He sounded only mildly interested.

She shifted her attention to his eyes and hoped he couldn’t read the panic in hers. Kayla tried to concentrate—on her words not his body, on . . . She blinked.
His eyes.
There was something about those eyes—other than the ridiculously long dark lashes. Something important. If she could just . . .

“I think you should touch my body.” He sounded serious.

“No.” She swallowed hard. Was her panic showing? Wow, some lawyer she’d make. No eloquent speeches in
her
future. An incredible face and body had reduced her to one-word responses.

He turned his head to stare at her. “Why not? You’re a succubus. I might be wrong, but I think a succubus would touch her victim.”

He gripped his lower lip between strong white teeth. And when he released it, she could only stare. Kayla half closed her eyes. All she’d have to do is lower her head and slide her tongue across his lip’s damp sheen. It would be soft and would taste of him. She caught herself just as she started to lean forward. Kayla gave herself a few mental slaps. She was almost certain he’d done that on purpose.

“Sparkle wants you to torture me with your sensual power. I’m waiting.”

She narrowed her eyes. Did his lips twitch? Was he laughing at her? “Actually, a succubus would torture you by
not
touching you.” There. Let him argue with that. She desperately tried to listen to Sparkle for hints while she reminded herself that this was just a fantasy, not the real deal.

“No, you may not touch me yet.” Sparkle sounded almost prim. “You may
never
be worthy to touch me.” The tap, tap of her heels emphasized that point.

“Please, mistress, tell us how to be worthy.” The man was ready for prime time, his acting was that good.

But then, Kayla suspected he wasn’t really acting. He meant what he said. Stupid man. He wouldn’t know what to do with Sparkle if he got her.

“Well . . .” Sparkle seemed to be considering his request. “I love the things that every woman loves—diamonds, shoes . . . But, no, even those things wouldn’t make you worthy.”

Kayla wondered how Sparkle would keep the men motivated for the rest of the fantasy if she didn’t give them a little hope.

“But if you
were
worthy, you’d get to smooth your fingers across my soft skin, kiss my whip, and—”

Jeez, Sparkle was making her ears bleed. Kayla stopped listening. This was too much. She couldn’t say things like that to a complete stranger. She stared down at
her
stranger’s body and tried to figure out what to do.

Time for the truth. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Surprisingly, Kayla found that she really
was
sorry. If she could have worked her way past her embarrassment, she would have enjoyed trailing her fingers over that gleaming chest, that hard jaw, and then . . . She took a deep calming breath. “This isn’t my thing. I’m just filling in for someone. I’ll refund your money. I’ll . . .”

Kayla finally worked up the courage to look at his face. His lips were unsmiling, but his eyes gleamed with suppressed laughter.

She huffed her outrage. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”

He grinned, and she couldn’t help herself. Everything about the moment hit her—her dumb outfit, the three middle-aged men playing out their fantasies, and Sparkle’s whole spiel. She started to laugh too. And if she sensed a little hysteria in her giggles, she refused to acknowledge it.

Kayla clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds, but it didn’t work. Sparkle would hear her. The other men would too, and it would shatter their fantasy.

Ohmigod, she had to stop laughing. Without thinking, she buried her face in his chest. Then froze. It had worked. She wasn’t laughing anymore. Because something else altogether had replaced the urge.

Awareness.
With a capital A. Her lips were pressed against his warm flesh. Her senses exploded. His scent, his taste, his feel—all essential male. No dilution. No hiding behind chemical camouflage. He was primal, predatory, and in one moment he’d stripped thousands of years of evolution from her. She wanted to bite him.

Had she just thought that? She was too shocked to even raise her head.

“You seem to have thrown your entire being into this punishment, Katnip. Perhaps you can share with the rest of us.” Sparkle’s voice was an eager purr.

No, no, no.
She refused to feed the fantasy for the three men Kayla knew would be staring at her with avid eyes. Besides, her lips seemed to be suction-cupped to his chest.

“The succubus is torturing me with her tongue, mistress, while she whispers promises she’ll never keep. I’m bound, so I can’t touch her, can’t smooth my fingers over her beautiful body. I don’t know how much more I can stand.” His moan was filled with frustrated agony.

Kayla felt the vibration of that moan, heard the sincerity in his words. Wow, that was disturbing. She prided herself on being able to hear the lie in a person’s voice. She couldn’t hear it in his. But he
was
lying, because her tongue hadn’t touched him—yet—and she hadn’t whispered any promises.

“Wonderful.” Sparkle sounded thrilled. “Continue, Katnip.”

Uh-oh. Kayla finally found her backbone—still way too soft and pliable. She straightened and turned to face Sparkle.

“I want to hear his suffering. His cries must be loud, filled with unbearable pain. They will be a lesson to these others.” Sparkle cast a dismissive glance at the three men still on their knees. Their expressions said they’d pay extra to land on that table.

“Uh . . .” Kayla knew her face must be bright red. She opened her mouth to say “no” and damn the consequences.

But she was saved from complete humiliation by a man dressed all in white—white jeans, white T-shirt, and white sneakers. He threw open the dungeon door and stepped inside. Kayla had a brief impression of dark hair and eyes that looked almost black. She didn’t have time to notice anything else about him because the sword he carried grabbed her attention.

“I’m Dacian. I’ve come to destroy the vampire and her demon helper.” He glanced at Kayla. “Release your victim.”

Kayla didn’t move. She couldn’t decide if embarrassment had frozen her in place or the memory of her victim’s super-sexy chest.

Sparkle turned to the other men. “Once a succubus attaches herself to a man, she loses control, lost in her need to drain every drop of sexual essence from him. She won’t release her prey until he passes out from too many orgasms.”

The guy in white waved his sword around. “I said to release him, demon.”

“What if the victim doesn’t want to be released? Hey, I’m fine right here.” Her “victim” sounded definite about that.

The White Knight looked exasperated. “Shut up. You don’t have a say in this.” He looked at Kayla expectantly.

Sparkle had another helpful comment for the three men watching raptly. “Notice how the victim is in thrall to his mistress. He’ll crawl through fire on his knees just to feel her hands on his naked flesh, her lips touching his—”

“You’re not helping.” White Knight guy looked really ticked.

One of the other men spoke. “Do you have this fantasy every week? Can I be on the table of pain next time? I have to buy my tickets now.”

He leaped to his feet and hurried toward the door, followed immediately by the two other men. Kayla watched openmouthed as they shoved the White Knight aside and fought to get out the door first. Then they were gone.