Master of the Night (9 page)

“And that's just the aliens. In the last century the human race has gained the ability to destroy itself hundreds of times over. Magekind has been working our collective ass off behind the scenes, trying to keep the human race from committing mass suicide. But it's always been a fight. Right now we're about one deep breath from a religious World War. We've never had one of those, and believe me, we don't want one. So if the Magekind goes bye-bye—”

“—millions of other people won't be far behind.”

His expression was cold and grim when he turned to look at her. “If I don't Change you, Geirolf can still kill us, but he won't be sacrificing a Maja.”

“But if you don't Change me, we don't even have a prayer of escaping.”

He sighed and fell into the nearest chair. “That's about the size of it.”

Erin groaned. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

 

They spent the
next hours pacing and arguing as they tried to arrive at a solution to the problem of escape. Erin banged furiously on the window, trying to attract the attention of one of the magical beings beyond the glass, but nothing responded.

Meanwhile, Reece explored the walls and windows, looking for a weakness he could use to batter an escape route. But the cell was rock solid. All he gained for his trouble were bloodied knuckles and a gnawing, desperate frustration.

And what was worse, every breath he took carried Erin's scent, eroding his self-control another desperate inch.

When he finally gave up, he found her lying curled up on the floor on a pile of furs. With that unconscious gallantry he'd noticed before, she'd left him the bed.

Her slender arms hugged her own torso as if for comfort as her glorious blond hair tumbled across the dark pelts she lay across. Looking down at her, he felt tenderness tug at him.

He found himself wishing she were a bitch. It would be so much easier to keep his hands off her if he didn't like her so damn much.

Reece bent and started to pick her up so he could carry her to the bed. Then he drew in a lungful of her scent. The wave of lust that crashed over him sent him backing warily away.

Touching her right now was
not
a good idea.

Stymied in his attempts to play gentleman, he stalked over to the bed and flung himself down on it to stare sightlessly at the ceiling.

Unfortunately, he knew there was no way he could sleep. Dawn—and the Daysleep it would force on his vampire body—was still a couple of hours away.

With a sigh of resignation he rolled to his feet and began to pace. If there was only some way he could signal the Magekind…But judging by the constellations outside, the cell was on the other side of Mageverse Earth.

He spun on his heel to pace the other way, and his eyes fell on Erin. She lay on her side, the lush curves of her hip and waist in relief against the black fur. One delicate pink nipple had escaped the confinement of her corset, and he could see the gold curls between her legs shimmering through the white lace of her panties. He imagined spreading those sweet thighs, sinking deep, forgetting the impossible situation that confronted them.

Once. He could take her one more time. That would be enough.

Be honest, you horny bastard. Once
wouldn't
be enough. Not as long as I'm under this spell
.

His balls literally ached, and the roots of his fangs throbbed. His cock was as hard as a crowbar. Reece jerked his eyes away from the distilled temptation of Erin Grayson's lush little body.

Dammit, he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted a woman this much. The spell was slowly turning up the heat on the Desire every moment that passed.

Reece wheeled away from her and stripped off his robe in a single violent yank, then dragged his silk trousers off. Naked, he strode to the Roman bath that took up one end of the room.

Stepping up onto the marble lip of the pool, he hoped it was ice cold.

Unfortunately, it wasn't, he realized as he descended the steps into the waist-deep water.
More like blood temperature.
But it was some distraction, anyway.

Reece sat down in the water, letting it close over his head. He concentrated on holding his breath, hoping the eventual need to breathe would take his mind off his clawing desire for Erin.

But as he floated there, he felt the silken slide of the current ghosting over his bare skin like the brush of a woman's fingers. His cock throbbed with the need to sink into Erin's hot, cream-filled sheathe. He shuddered.

Dammit, I will not do this. Spell or no spell, I control my body. My body does
not
control me.

The water swirled gently against him, caressing his rock-hard shaft and the sensitive skin between his thighs. Erin's hands had felt so soft when she'd touched him there.

Reece stood up, the water sluicing off his aching body. “Dammit.” Desperate for some way to distract his clamoring hunger, he looked around the room.

Just in time to see a collection of bottles and jars appear on a tray at one end of the bath. He stared at it. Oh, now that was interesting. What was it Geirolf said:
“The cell provided for my every physical need—except freedom.”

When he stepped dripping from the bath to investigate, a stack of towels appeared on the floor. Reece scooped one up and dried himself off, considering the possibilities.

Testing, he wished for a Stinger Missile and looked around hopefully. Nothing. He tried wishing for a pitcher of blood next, but when he looked into the ewer on the table, it still held nothing but wine. Damn. Evidently Geirolf had found a way to alter the spell just enough to keep him hungry.

At least when it came to his vampire needs. There was still that intriguing collection of bottles.

When he picked one up and shook it, Reece found it contained some kind of oil. He pulled the elegant cork and sniffed cautiously. It smelled like sandalwood, but there didn't seem any taint of magic to it.

Well, maybe he could take care of at least one hunger. He carried it to the bed.

After pouring a handful of scented oil into his palms, he threw himself down and wrapped his fingers around his cock. He wasn't too proud to jack off, if it made it possible to stay away from Erin.

Reece forced himself to take his time. He needed to spin this out, make it last as long as possible. Maybe it would help him regain control, at least for a while.

Arching his back, he thrust his rigid shaft up into his palm, remembering what it had felt like to slide into her silken cream. She'd gripped him like oiled silk wrapped around his cock, and her nipples had tasted maddeningly of her erotic musk. Inhaling sharply, he found the room full of her scent. Reece closed his eyes with a low groan and drew it more deeply into his lungs as he stroked his shaft, cupping his tight balls with the other hand.

Then, in his mind, he let himself make love to her as he didn't dare do in reality.

 

The Grand Palace of the Cachamwri Sidhe

Janieda flew into the throne room to find King Llyr Aleyn Galatyn pacing before his throne, his strides long and angry. She stopped to hover in the air, watching him, her wings beating slowly. They'd been lovers since his last wife died, at least a hundred years. Yet even after so long, his royal beauty never failed to take her breath away.

Like all those of the Galatyn bloodline, the king was tall, far taller than Janieda even in her full form. His body was leanly muscled, a fact made wonderfully evident by his dark blue doublet and hose. Intricate embroidery in silver thread glittered against the dark fabric, beaded here and there with emeralds that matched those in the silver coronet he wore. More of the stones gleamed against the soft blue leather of the thigh-high boots that hugged his long legs.

The dark expression on his handsome face made Janieda swallow and hope she wasn't the one who'd aroused his ire. “Llyr?” she asked softly, landing on the gleaming marble floor. With a thought, she grew to her full height and approached him hesitantly. “What has you so angry, my love?”

“They refused me,” Llyr growled, still pacing. “Again! Those proud bitches turned their arrogant noses up at every one of my offers.”

A shaft of relief cut through her, but Janieda was too experienced a courtier to let it show. “And they always will.” He turned toward her, his opalescent eyes flashing. She forced herself to confront his anger. “I'm sorry, My Liege, but you know how the Majae's Council keeps a tight rein on its witches. To allow one of them to become your queen would put her forever beyond their control. They'll not do that.”

“Shortsighted fools,” he growled and wheeled away, his velvet cape swinging wide from his body. “An alliance would benefit them as much as it would the Cachamwri Sidhe.”

Janieda allowed herself a slight sneer. “They care only for this Great Mission of theirs, this plan to save the mortals.” She snorted. “A waste of time, if you ask me. They all eventually die anyway.”

“Well, if my brother wins this war between us, the Majae may well wish they'd bothered to assist me,” Llyr said, dropping into his throne to glower. “I know Ansgar. With me gone, he'd turn his attention to mortal Earth with a conqueror's eye.” He tilted his head back and stared grimly at the ceiling. “Unfortunately, I will not be around to gloat.”

“Did you…” She hesitated a moment, then continued carefully, “Did you tell them about Geirolf?” He had said before he left that he intended to warn the Majae that Merlin's ancient enemy had escaped his cell.

Llyr's handsome mouth tightened. “No.” He made an impatient gesture. “Perhaps I should have, but I was so infuriated at their treatment of me that I did not.”

Janieda relaxed fractionally. As long as the witches did not discover Geirolf's cell had a new occupant, her secret was safe.

At least for a while.

 

The Cell

“Erin—” The voice drew her from sleep with its low, male growl of sensual need.

Erin opened her eyes and blinked at the stone ceiling overhead without recognition. She lay on a pile of furs, but the floor below that was hard. Where the hell—

Champion gasped.

She sat up quickly and looked around for him, her heart pounding as the unbelievable events of the last several hours rushed back.

He was sprawled facedown on the bed. For a moment of raw, unadulterated panic, she thought Geirolf had done something to him. Then he moaned, and the rasping hunger in the sound made her take a second, harder look.

He was asleep, his lashes fanned dark against the arrogant angle of his cheek.

Erin sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in relief. He must be in the Daysleep he'd mentioned sometime before she'd dropped off herself. Magi—vampires—needed that deep, almost comatose rest as much as they did blood.

Unlike Merlin's people, they'd been born in a nonmagical dimension, so the rules were slightly different for them. They took blood and the psychic energy of pleasure from their partners, but it was in sleep that they drew on their connection to the Mageverse to power their abilities.

Champion sighed and moved, his powerful torso flexing. Erin blinked as it hit her he was completely naked.

And beautiful.

When he'd made love to her, his erotic assault on her senses had made it impossible to concentrate on anything but what he was doing. Now her fascinated gaze tracked over the curves and angles of hard-packed muscle, the long, strong legs, the brawny line of his glutes. He had an utterly gorgeous ass. She felt a sudden, wicked impulse to sink her teeth into it.

Grateful for the distraction from a grim reality, Erin sat up and ogled him shamelessly. Even asleep, Reece wore an intense expression on that battered pirate face of his. A tight line cut between dark brows drawn low over his closed eyes, and his mouth was open slightly, revealing the points of his fangs. One arm was bent, hanging off the bed, corded biceps bulging as he held a handful of the fur cover gripped hard in a big fist.

“Erin,” he whispered again.

She blinked. Was he dreaming about her?

Then, as she watched, he thrust his hips into the bed beneath him.

Oh.

Erin felt her
jaw drop as heat flooded her cheekbones.

Once again, Reece ground slowly, sensuously, into the bed in the unmistakable movements of sex. His chest expanded as he drew in a quick, hard breath. “Silk. Like silk.” His mouth looked impossibly carnal as he shaped the words.

She drew in a deep breath of her own. Her nipples tingled and peaked as she remembered what it had been like to make love to him. The feel of his mouth laving her aching breasts, his tongue rolling the little peaks against the edge of his teeth. The way he'd held her so effortlessly still under him as she'd writhed helplessly in his arms.

The memory alone was enough to bring cream welling inside her in a hot, maddening trickle. Impulsively she reached down and slid one hand into the waistband of her lace panties. Her delving fingers found her lips swollen and dewed with arousal.

He moved again, rolling his beautiful ass as he thrust into the thick fur throw that covered the bed. She remembered the size of his cock, the way it had felt sinking deep, stretching and tormenting her so deliciously. With a soft groan, she thrust one finger deeply into her sex as it grew slicker with every move Reece made. She could almost feel his broad back under her hands as she opened herself wide for his lunging thrusts.

Erin shivered. God, she wanted him again. Wanted to know his fierce hunger one more time.

She also knew she didn't dare. Having sex with Champion meant becoming a Maja—and courting a starring role as a human sacrifice. Not even mind-blowing sex with Champion was worth risking the murder of thousands of people.

Then he rolled over on his back.

“Hot damn.” Erin stared. She hadn't gotten a good look at him before. He'd felt huge as he'd slid into her, but even so, she hadn't realized just how thick and powerful his shaft really was.

His cock arched over his lean abdomen from its nest of dark curls, a single drop of pre-cum clinging to its rosy head. Thick veins snaked along its length.

And she remembered how it felt.

She lay sprawled and dazed across Champion's body as his cock shuttled in and out and he gave her what felt like the world's biggest hickey. Somehow the slight, stinging pain made the pleasure that much greater. Her third orgasm of the night rolled over her in a blinding wave. Erin gasped. Champion arched and stiffened, driving to his full length, so deep she had to scream again
.

Shuddering in need, Erin added a second finger to the one deep inside her as she pushed down the edge of her corset so she could stroke one hard nipple. Unable to look away from him, barely breathing, she pinched and twisted the swollen peak.

He arched his massive torso and rolled his hips upward as if driving into her. His cock bobbed, as that longing drop of pre-cum caught the light. His balls were drawn tight to the big shaft, as though he was seconds from spilling.

Gasping, Erin thumbed her clit and pumped her fingers, feeling the first pulses of an orgasm. In thirty years of life, she'd never seen anything as erotic as Reece Champion having a wet dream.

Suddenly he stiffened, his big body drawing into a bow of erotic effort. A jet of cum shot across the cobblestone ridges of his abdomen.

“Erin,” he sighed.

Oh, God. She threw back her head and closed her eyes, imagining walking over there and cleansing Champion's big body with her tongue until he woke up and did to her whatever it was he was dreaming about.

She clenched her teeth to strangle her own cry as she came, knowing she didn't dare let Champion catch her masturbating. In their current wild mood, that might be more than either of them could resist.

 

He woke with
Erin's scent filling his head and his balls throbbing like a toothache.

Reece lifted his head. The first thing he saw was his own cock, a drop of pre-cum on its tip. More semen covered his belly. He grimaced. Damn, he hadn't had a wet dream like this in centuries.

Glancing over, he saw Erin was awake, standing at the other end of the room with her back to him. Something about the rigid line of her spine—and the rich scent of female musk in the air—told him she'd witnessed his little nocturnal emission.

And it had turned her on.
In fact—
He drew the musk more deeply into his lungs.
It smells as though she—

Drop it, Champion.
He shoved aside the incendiary image of Erin masturbating. Rolling off the bed, he started for his pants, left lying by the pool. As he passed her, the intoxicating smell of her need grew even stronger. The Desire wrapped around the base of his fangs and clamped a burning hold on his balls. It was all he could do not to jerk her into his arms. Instead he snatched up his pants, his hands shaking like a palsied old man's.

Not good. Not good at all.

An image spilled through his mind—Erin, her long legs wrapped around his waist, her head thrown back as her muscles gripped him like a creamy fist.

Reece swallowed, his mouth dry as week-old bread as he tucked in his desperate hard-on and jerked his pants into place around his hips.

“Did he put a spell on you?”

Startled, Reece looked up. She hadn't even looked around. “What?”

“Geirolf. I was thinking just now. About the way you keep looking at me.” Erin turned and faced him. “I saw him kiss your forehead before he sent us here. Did he put you under a compulsion to have sex with me?”

Reece sighed. He should have known she'd realize it. “Yeah. I think he did.”

Silence spun between them, aching with undercurrents of desperation and lust.

“Guess I'm lucky he didn't just order you to rape me,” she said.

He drew in another deep breath, blew it out. “Yeah. I thought for a minute he had, but when we got here…” He shrugged.

“I wonder why he didn't.”

Champion studied her, trying to decide what to make of her tone. “He likes to play games. Maybe he wanted me aware and fighting it. Or maybe there are preparations he's got to make before he—”

“Sacrifices us.”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” Her expression was calm, but he could see the fear deep in her eyes.

“I don't know.”

Erin stalked toward the table and picked up the pitcher. Looking into it, she shook her head. “Full. You know, I could have sworn we drank half of it.”

He cleared his throat. “The cell's enchanted. It provides for the physical needs of its captives. Or at least some of them. Which means an unending supply of food and drink.”

“Well, at least we won't starve.” She poured herself a goblet. “I've been thinking.”

“Yeah?” He turned and bent until he could splash water on his face from the bath. Wiping off the evidence of his dream with one wet hand, he looked over at her. “If you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them.”

Erin walked toward him in that long, rolling female stride that was damn near enough to give him an erection all by itself. “It sounds as if you're going to end up changing me whether you like it or not. Maybe we need to just go for it.”

 

At those words,
such raw lust flashed across Champion's face, Erin felt her knees go weak.

Then he looked away. “No.”

“Aren't we fighting the inevitable?”

He whirled on her, his lips pulled back from white fangs. “Yes! If the inevitable is being guest of honor at a human sacrifice and the resulting destruction of my people—by God, I'm going to fight it all the way down.”

Erin met his determined stare. Just beneath the rage, she could see his hunger. “But what if I can save us?”

She watched as he paced to the nearest window and braced his arms on the frame. His back looked a mile wide. “And what if you go insane?” he asked in a low voice. “What do you think I'm going to have to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew a woman once.” Reece didn't look around, his attention focused on the Mageverse landscape just beyond the impenetrable glass. “A beautiful woman, an intelligent woman. She sparkled. And she loved my best friend with such intensity, I envied him.” He sighed. “But she was a Latent, and he was a Magus, and the Council of Majae refused him permission to turn her. So he Changed her anyway.”

“And she went nuts.”

He nodded. “Just like that, the woman I knew was gone, replaced by a paranoid psychotic who believed everybody was out to destroy her, including the man she loved. She killed him.” He turned restlessly to stare out the window at the moonlit night. “And I killed her.”

“You're afraid I'll end up the same way.”

“Yes.” He raked one hand through his hair in agitation. “Look, the way it works is, the Majae's Council decides who gets the Gift. Maybe somebody's had a vision that particular candidate will play a role in the Great Mission—our task of saving Humanity. Or maybe some Maja or Magus submits the Latent's name for consideration. The Council vets the candidate, casts runes—whatever the hell they do. Then if they decide the Latent can withstand the Change, they send somebody to have sex with her or him.”

For something to do with her hands, Erin started slicing off a piece of one loaf of bread. Like the pitcher, it appeared untouched, though she remembered eating from it the night before. “Sounds pretty”—she shrugged—“cold.”

“Yeah, well, it's a serious business. Because sometimes even the Majae's Council guesses wrong, and the new Maja becomes a threat. And she's got to be killed.”

“You're afraid you'll have to do the same thing to me.”

“Assuming you don't get me first.”

She turned her attention to a chunk of cheese and sawed off a piece. “Yeah, well, if we don't do anything, I'm dead anyway. Logically, Demon Boy is going to lose patience and put a rape spell on you. Assuming he hasn't already.”

“I'm not going to rape you.” He gritted the words between clenched teeth.

Erin eyed his back. “Yeah, well, I'd be tempted to walk over there and wrap my fingers around that raging hard-on just to find out. Unfortunately, I've got a feeling it would be like sticking my hand in a tiger cage, and I'm not that brave.”

Suddenly he exploded, driving his fist savagely into the window. It bonged like a bell as he hit it again and again. “I'm. Not. Going. To. Rape. You!”

She waited until the reverberations died. “Well, that just fills me with confidence.”

He whirled, his mouth contorted in a snarl that sent her jolting back a pace. “Fuck you!”

“Yeah, why don't we? Before you lose what little control you've got.”

Reece stared at her, his eyes glittering, a hectic flush on his cheeks. His powerful chest rose and fell with his hard, panting breaths. There was a bulge in his silk trousers that made her want to either look away or touch it. She forced herself to hold his gaze instead.

Finally he spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Erin, don't you understand? I don't want to destroy you.”

“Reece, you've been on the job long enough to know—sometimes you just have to take a chance. And we've got to. Our backs are to the wall. If we do nothing, eventually Geirolf's going to come back. And maybe this time he really will give you a compulsion to rape me. Then everybody loses—except that demonic son of a bitch. I don't want to die, but even more than that, I won't be responsible for all those deaths. I'll do anything—anything at all—to avoid that. Including die.”

 

Hoover Building, FBI Headquarters, Washington

Parker looked up from the stack of reports on his desk as Mike Richards walked out of the office with Reece Champion.

Who was not, of course, Reece Champion. Lord Geirolf had simply assumed the vampire's form in order to quell the assistant director's suspicions that he had a mole among his agents. Which the demon god had evidently done, judging from the unfocused look in Richards's eyes.

The AD led the way to Parker's desk and introduced “Champion.” “You two will be working together,” Richards said. To Geirolf/Champion, he added, “Why don't you use my office while I grab a bite to eat. I'm starved.”

“Sure,” the demon god said, smiling Champion's easy white grin. “Come on, Parker, I'll explain where we're going.”

Parker rose and followed Geirolf/Champion back to Richards's office as all around them, other agents tried very hard to look very busy. They'd all heard of Champion's formidable reputation, though nobody but Richards knew he was a vampire.

“You don't have to worry about being discovered,”
Geirolf told him telepathically as they walked.
“Richards now believes you're a good and loyal employee.”
He chuckled.
“In fact, you'll probably get a raise.”

“What about the others? Richards wasn't the only one who suspected the FBI has a mole in the ranks.”

Geirolf waved a dismissing hand as they stepped into Richards's office and he closed the door behind them.
“I'll take care of them shortly. In the meantime, you'll be assisting ‘Champion' with a mission.”

Parker sat down as his master dropped into the thickly padded office chair behind Richards's neat desk.
“You only have to give the word.”

Geirolf smiled with Champion's mouth, but there was something inhuman and smug in his eyes.
“I know. You'll be accompanying me back to the Death's Sabbat compound in Georgia for the ceremonies. I've summoned all the cults together, and I want you to have everything ready when they arrive in a couple of days.”

Parker sat back in his chair.
“A couple of days? Why not just teleport them?”

“And waste that much magic?”
Geirolf snorted.
“I'd rather leave the driving to Greyhound. Besides, I'm spending a great deal of power just keeping the Majae from awakening Merlin's Grimoire. I need to keep them in the dark a little while longer. As long as they're so focused on that book, they can't devote their full forces to finding Champion.”