Burned (7 page)
“Bloody hell,” the queen muttered. She turned around and stared down at the two vampires. Their eyes remained closed, their eyelids smooth and their faces relaxed. For a moment she wondered if perhaps she’d used too much power to knock them unconscious. She prodded them each in turn with her foot. Nothing.
She frowned, but then shrugged. They were both over three hundred years old, to have used any less power may have given them the time they needed to fight it. Her plan required her to have them bound and helpless before they realized they were in jeopardy.
She toyed with the notion of summoning another servant to carry them for her, but discarded the idea. The fewer witnesses to her plan the better. She bent down and grabbed the first vampire by an arm and a leg, throwing him over her shoulder as if he weighed no more than a sack of laundry. Balancing him carefully on her shoulder, she bent her knees and grabbed hold of the other vampire’s ankle. When she had a proper grip on both of her prisoners, she straightened up and began the trek to her bedroom.
As she dragged them out of the throne room into one of the myriad of hallways in the sithen, Dubheasa cast her gaze around in search of more servants. As she’d expected, Rosemary’s demeanor seemed to have scared away any would-be witnesses. The hallway between the throne room and her bedroom was completely empty.
Dubheasa crossed the threshold of her boudoir and a little of the tension in her shoulders eased. Even among the nightmares of her own court, there were none who would dare to spy in her bedroom. Not without an invitation at least. Within these four walls, she was free from scrutiny. Throwing the two vampires halfway across the room onto the bed, she slammed the door behind her, a not so subtle hint to anyone who might be within hearing distance to stay away. Whirling away from the door, Dubheasa’s body tingled in anticipation as she focused on the two vampires lying on her bed.
They were not as handsome as some of the vampires she’d seen, but they were exactly what her fantasy demanded. Black hair, wild and uncombed, brushed their broad pale shoulders. Their squared jaws gave them a brutish appearance, helped along a great deal by the fact that each of them cleared six feet tall by a good three or four inches. No scars marked their skin, despite what Dubheasa knew of their violent lifestyles. Of course, that was understandable, if what she’d heard about them was true. After all, their kind had an advanced healing factor from birth. Unlike some other breeds of vampires, they did not have to die to get it.
Her gaze traveled over the expanse of their deliciously naked bodies. Their flat brown nipples looked dark in contrast to their ghostly pale skin. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of their smooth hairless chests. Based on their reputations as bloody barbarians, slaughtering generations of soldiers, she had to admit she’d pictured big hairy men waving double-sided axes and roaring to the night skies. The two vampires lying so peacefully on her bed were as smooth as alabaster. So beautiful . . .
Much too beautiful to hide beneath clothing.
Dubheasa congratulated herself once again on her insistence that both Aldric and his men arrive at the
Unseelie Court
completely nude. It allowed things to progress in exciting directions so much quicker. She tilted her head in bemusement. Perhaps she would institute such a rule for everyone entering her court. No clothing for anyone. What a marvelous notion.
Tucking that idea away for future consideration, Dubheasa turned her attention back to the task at hand. She’d planned this for too long to let herself get distracted now. Careful to keep her eye on her unconscious prisoners, she hurried over to the bed.
The mattress was big enough for a family of trolls to sleep quite comfortably. It was somewhat awkward to climb into, but for someone who liked to entertain quantity in her bedroom, the end result was worth it. Dubheasa grabbed on to the foot high railing of metal bars and heaved herself up and over.
Once nestled comfortably inside, she grabbed one of the men by his shoulders and jerked him around until he was lying properly with his head on the pillow. She repeated the same for the other one. When she was finished, she crawled down the bed and grabbed one of the numerous sets of shackles hanging from the rows of bars and used them to bind one of each vampire’s legs to the rail. For what had to be the hundredth time, she sent a silent congratulations to her clever blacksmith.
The rail had been the unexpected result of her attempt to torment another of her servants. Brogan the blushing blacksmith had nearly fallen over with embarrassment when she’d stood in her throne room screaming at him because her
ménage a cinq
had been interrupted when one of the men fell off the edge of her bed. She had demanded that the blacksmith build her a bigger bed frame. Dubheasa smiled at the memory. Brogan had paled to a delicious shade of white when she’d told him if she ever had to suffer the indignity of having one of her lovers fall over the edge in the middle of their passion again, she’d see him tortured for the next three lunar cycles.
She trailed a nail over one of the thick bars lining the railing, a thrill racing between her legs as she jingled one of the many pairs of shackles hanging from the metal. Not only had Brogan managed to ensure her lovers didn’t fall off the bed—he’d made it even easier for the queen to indulge in all of her delicious fantasies. She’d been so inspired that she’d had him construct a lattice of bars to hang from her ceiling as well, forming an almost-cage around her bed. The bars allowed her to easily shackle anyone she pleased, in any position she pleased—holding them completely helpless against the onslaught of pain and pleasure that made her room echo with the screams of her lovers.
Tonight would be the piece de resistance. After years of searching and gathering information, years of planning and manipulating the pawns into place, she would finally experience the pleasure she’d yearned to feel for so long. After checking one last time to make sure both vampires had enough slack in their chains for the fun she had planned, she backed away from the bed. Excitement sent crackles of electricity over her skin as she sent a gentle pulse of power out toward the sleeping vampires.
Wake up, my lovelies
.
Wake up and show me your claws.
About the Author
Jennifer Blackstream is a psychology enthusiast with both a B.A. and M.A. in Psychology. Her fascination with the human mind is most appeased through the study of mythology and folklore as well as the novels of Terry Pratchett.
Jennifer enjoys listening to Alice Cooper, trying new recipes (to which she will add garlic whether it calls for it or not), watching television with her family, and playing with her woefully intelligent three year old son. She lives in
Ohio
in enviable extended-family circumstances with both her parents and her son.
Jennifer spends most of her time drinking coffee from her X-Men mug and desperately trying to get all her ideas written down before her toddler can find that all magical button on her laptop to make all her work vanish.
To learn more about Jennifer Blackstream and her novels, visit her website at
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Did you find a typo?
I hate typos. I do my best to rid my manuscripts of them before I send them to my editor, and then she does her best to find any stragglers that I missed. Still, sometimes the little buggers get by both of us and leap off the page to torment you, my loyal readers!
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- Jennifer Blackstream
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