The Twisted Kiss: Doomsyear, Book 1 (12 page)

Letting out a slow breath, she closed her eyes. She felt
forgiven
. Blessed even. It had been as though Louis had been happy she’d found a match in Christian and Michael, like it had freed him in some way. And if Louis felt freed…so did she. Now they both had closure.

Michael scooped her up into his arms and headed inside with her. She was grateful since she wasn’t completely sure her legs would work. All of them were soaked. Christian followed behind, looking over his shoulder and growling as though he thought Louis would pop out to threaten her at any moment.

But Kylie had a feeling Louis was gone for good.

Kylie shut off her blowtorch, backed away from the heated metal and pushed her welder’s mask to the top of her head. Lips pursed, she surveyed her work.

Finally, she was finished.

She set the blowtorch aside and looked at the statue from the base to the top. It started out, even and compact, arching toward the sky. Slender rods of metal separated into two smooth, twining columns, reaching higher and then coming together. Where the rods met, the piece exploded into chaos, twisting and mottled, the sculpture no longer aspiring heavenward, but reaching in all directions in a symphony of confusion.

The Supe Council had just sent word that the statue was to be placed in the middle of Sweet Rock as a symbol of the sacrifices everyone had made post-doomsyear. Every day she would see the statue and think of Louis.

She removed her gloves and set her welder’s mask next to the blowtorch. Then she turned off the light and, with one last look at her artwork, closed the door.

Christian pulled Kylie down onto his lap, making her yelp with surprise, and kissed her temple. Smiling, Michael watched them from the doorway of the dining room, an edge of desire for their mate lighting his eyes.

Michael loved and wanted Kylie every bit as much as he did. They were allied in their caring for her and they both knew that Kylie loved them back just as much. Finally they’d found their bond and Kylie was at the center of it.

Kylie snuggled against his chest, fitting her head into the crook of his neck and sighing. She held out her hands to Michael, who settled down beside them. She slipped her hand into his. “You two are everything I didn’t know I needed,” she murmured.

“And you’re everything Michael and I knew we needed.” He met Michael’s gaze over the top of her head and they shared a silent communication.

It was time.

Michael stood, left the room and came back with two small boxes. He slipped one to Christian, then knelt in front of Kylie, who straightened warily.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze skating between the two small boxes.

“Back before doomsyear, men would ask women to marry them,” said Christian.

“Yes, I know. My father told me. Men gave women diamond rings as a promise they would marry them one day.” She paused. “Those are rings?”

“Yes. Not diamond, but just as pretty.” Christian opened his box to reveal a silver ring with sapphire stones.

Michael opened his to reveal a matching ring. “I had Henry Dougherty make them, using stones from one of my mother’s rings. Men and women don’t marry formally anymore, but we want you to wear these rings anyway as a symbol of our love and commitment to you.”

Kylie smiled and held out her hands. “I would be overjoyed to wear them. In fact, I’ll never take them off.”

Michael and Christian slipped the rings onto the third finger of each of her hands. Smile on her face, she held her hands out, admiring them, and then launched herself into Michael’s arms, kissing him all over his face.

She reached up and pulled Christian onto the floor with them and kissed him all over his face too. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too, baby,” murmured Christian. “And we intend to show you just how much. Over and over—”

“—and over,” Michael finished.

“Mmm…” She squirmed beneath them, her voice going lower. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Neither could they.

About the Author

Anya Bast is the author of numerous works of romantic fiction, mostly all paranormal and mostly all scorching hot. She lives in the country with her husband, daughter, eight cats, a dog, and an odd assortment of rescued animals.

Somewhat reclusive by nature, she can be drawn out with a good bottle of red wine, classic movies, or good music. When she's not writing, she can be found trying to grow organic vegetables, shopping in thrift stores for that perfect piece of clothing, or dreaming about travel to some faraway country.

She loves to hear from readers. Contact her via her web site
www.anyabast.com
.

Look for these titles by Anya Bast

Now Available:

Taken

Sometimes love knocks softly…and sometimes it breaks down your door.

Taken

© 2009 Anya Bast

Anne’s morning starts like any other normal day—and ends in a race for her life. The surprise that interrupts her regular date with a latte looks a lot like Frankenstein, except this monster is for real. And it chases her straight into the arms of two mouthwatering hunks who whisk her away from everything she knows. That would be Earth.

Suddenly life isn’t so normal anymore.

Caleb and Van have been watching Anne for several weeks. Women are scarce in their world, a situation that sometimes forces two or more males to share one wife between them. Anne is their perfect match. Now all they have to do is convince her of that—while trying desperately not to let their intense desire for her scare her away.

Then there’s the little matter of protecting her from the Guardians, who want to make sure no match is ever made…

Warning: Contains explicit language, ménage a trois sex scenes and big scary monsters.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Taken:

When she’d been standing in line for her non-fat latte that morning, Anne had never expected to be running for her life only moments later.

Latte long since splattered on the sidewalk, Anne careened around the corner of a random alley, scraping her bare arm on the corner of a brick building in the process. She stifled a cry of pain and nearly collided with a banged-up silver trash can, nimbly dodged the object, and then leaped over a puddle of dank, cold water on the pavement.

She’d exited the coffee shop near her office and was headed to her car when a man had approached her. Only once he’d grown near enough, she hadn’t been sure he was a
man
at all. Male maybe, but not human male. Her mind had tripped over itself for a moment as she tried to make sense of that. The thing, whatever it was, had insinuated itself in a menacing fashion between her and her car. When she’d run, he’d chased her.

Her high heels already long gone, the only sound she made was the almost imperceptible slap of feet to concrete and her regulated breathing. She’d been on the track team in high school. She could outrun this
thing
…whatever it was that chased her. Behind her, footsteps sounded. It was gaining on her.

Correction,
maybe
she could outrun it.

Squashing that deadly flicker of uncertainty, she pushed herself faster. Anne vaulted over two abandoned pallets and stumbled on her landing. Expensive material tore as her skirt ripped up the seam. Designer clothing simply wasn’t made for this kind of abuse, curse it. At least now that her skirt was split she could run faster.

At the end of the alley, she turned a corner, catching a glimpse of her pursuer out of the corner of her eye. He, it,
whatever
was on her tail and quickly catching up to her. Her heart thumped harder…from fear, pure and simple, not from physical exertion.

Out of the darkness, a hand reached out and snagged her arm. Anne screamed in spite of herself—a full, open-mouthed screech of terror that could’ve been heard in a five-block radius if this hadn’t been the commercial part of town and it hadn’t been six in the morning. Strong arms closed around her, and Anne fought with every ounce of strength she had. The grip only tightened, squeezing her air passage closed. Her head swam, her vision dotted.

“Sleep.” Rough male voice. Low and commanding. Scary.

Her head dropped as if on his order and exhaustion dragged her under as though she lay tucked into her own bed after a long night out and she was safe…
No.
Her head jerked up as she fought the impulse. If she slept, she lost control. She couldn’t…
couldn’t
… Her head lolled to the side, so tired.

“Sleep,” came the voice again, this time more gentle. “You’re safe now.”

Her pursuer came around the corner of the alley and she had the utter horror of seeing him again. “Frankenstein,” she whispered. Tall, green. Thick shoulders and square head. This guy couldn’t be human, he just couldn’t.

“Sleep.”
 

The pull toward slumber increased; made an offer she couldn’t refuse. Right before her eyelids slid shut, she saw another man step out in a menacing fashion right in front of the man/it/whatever.

She slept.

“You frightened her.”

Caleb looked up from where he stood at Anne’s bedside and regarded Van, his best friend and, right now, his bane. “It was your fault the Guardian was chasing her at all. You’re the one who wanted to wait to contact her. We waited too long.”

Van stared down at the woman,
their woman
, his long multi-shaded blond hair falling into his face. “I had no way to know that the Guardians would have located her so quickly.”

“We did what we had to do to keep her safe. Now we will have to pick up the pieces when she awakes.”

“This could have gone smoother.”

“But it didn’t. The important thing now is to help her become acclimated to her new life with us.”

In fact, he couldn’t wait to get Anne home with them. He’d spent the last three weeks in this place and he’d had enough. He missed Valencia, missed the colorful lands, the wonderful food and his own, comfortable home. Earth was far from charming, though it did have Anne, which meant it was good in some ways.

Caleb shifted his gaze back to Anne, from whom it had hardly budged since they’d brought her to their hotel room. She looked so fragile, so different from the few Harmon females that remained. This had been done numerous times before, but, now, looking at this tiny, breakable Earth woman, he wasn’t sure how. Her body was of average size for her kind, not especially slender, but she still seemed fragile.

Her dark brown hair spread over the pillow like the wing of a glossy bird. Dark eyelashes swept down over pale cheeks. Her face was oval-shaped and pretty, though in an ordinary way. Her lips were full and pouty, and Caleb was sure the Earthian’s Christian heaven lay between them. Soon enough he would find out. She’d been on her way into her office and wore the remnants of a burgundy skirt that was now split almost all the way up her thigh, revealing a lickable swath of creamy skin. Her filmy matching blouse was torn and dirty and she’d lost both her shoes. Never fear, soon she’d be outfitted like the princess she was,
their
princess.

Every morning for many mornings they’d followed her to work, but today…so had the Guardian.

“How will we tell her?” Van pushed a hand through his hair and glanced at him. “Our way breaks all their ways. Normally human women only take one lover at a time. One husband. So infrequently will a human female bind herself to two men at the same time for always. The relationships that are like that here are considered outside the bounds of normality. How will she ever come to accept us
both?
” Open challenge passed over his face but was gone in a moment.

They’d had time to come to terms with having to share her. It wasn’t the Harmon way normally, but circumstances had forced them into it. And even though they’d been best friends from childhood, it was still difficult. Even more difficult to be in the same room with the woman the oracle had found for them, their perfect match. The scent of her alone was an aphrodisiac and they’d both gone a long time without a sexual partner.

“I don’t—”

Anne lunged across the bed, grabbed the phone and smashed it into the side of Caleb’s face. Pain exploded through his head—along with utter surprise—and he staggered back, catching himself on a nearby chair before he ended up on his ass on the floor.

Caleb heard Van restraining the woman, but she was screaming at him and fighting him tooth and nail. She sounded like a wild animal. Good thing the walls were soundproofed. He put a hand to his head and thought for a moment about mischiefing her mind the way he had in the alley when he’d made her sleep, but that seemed wrong somehow. It took away her choice.

Which was stupid, since they were about to take away
all
Anne’s choices. The survival of their species depended on it. It didn’t make him feel any less guilty, though.

“Calm!” he commanded, manipulating her emotions just a little bit, just enough to break the worst of her panic. “
Calm
, Anne.”

He raised his reeling head, blinked blood out of his eyes and saw Anne go still in Van’s arms. Van breathed heavily and his arms were scratched and bloody. He moved her back onto the bed, where she sat placidly.

Van turned once he’d settled Anne into her place, and got them both a couple damp towels to wipe up the blood she’d drawn from them. “She’s a fighter,” Van said under his breath, tossing him the towel. “She’ll not go meekly.”

That was apparent.

Caleb pressed the towel to his forehead, wincing, and walked over to kneel by her. He put his hand on her knee and sent her nice, calming vibes. “We’re not going to hurt you, Anne Michaels, I promise you. You don’t need to fight us.”

“Who are you?” Fear flickered in the depths of her green eyes. “What are you speaking and why can I understand it? What am
I
speaking for fuck’s sake and how am I speaking it?”

“We are speaking Valencian. You can understand it and speak it because it’s in your blood. I am Caleb Verona and that is Van Childress. We’ve come from far away, looking for you. We’re here to protect you.”