Authors: Evangeline Anderson
It’s just your imagination,
I tell myself uneasily.
He’s not really looking at you. He’s
searching the crowd for a hot, sexy supernatural vixen, trying to find the next
Sacrifice. There’s no way he’ll pick you.
“Supernaturals of the Tampa Bay Area,”
Aiden James begins in a deep, powerful voice that carries without the aid of a
microphone. “We are gathered today to pay homage to an ancient ritual—one which
has brought us peace and prosperity in troubled times.”
“Oh my Goddess, that
voice
,”Lexy
moans. “I think I just creamed my panties.”
“Hush.” I plant my elbow in her skinny
ribs. “I want to hear what he’s saying.”
“The Sacrifice Ceremony is as important as
it is ancient. It binds us together as a community. I, and some of the other
vampires here tonight, well remember the strife and dissention between our
peoples before it was enacted. Now we all live in harmony. Long may the
Sacrifice continue!”
“Long may the Sacrifice continue!” the
crowd shouts back. I try to join in the shout but my voice seems to be stuck in
my throat. Aiden James is scanning the Glen as he talks but his eyes keep
coming back to me. I wish I could hide. I want to duck behind Lexy who is so
much taller than I but somehow I can’t move.
“As most of you know, your old Sovereign,
the venerable Zandor Quaid, who served long and well for over two decades, has
now gone to his final rest.” Aiden James bows his head for a moment in respect.
When he looks up, his eyes flash pale fire. “Now the Vampire Council has chosen
me as your Sovereign and as such I demand my Sacrifice!”
The crowd starts to chant. “Sa-cri-
fice
. Sa-cri-
fice
.” I see
several females, who are closer to the stage than I am, leaning forward eagerly.
Clearly they wouldn’t mind giving their all to the hot new vampire overlord. I,
on the other hand, am shrinking back, trying not to be seen. But still those
gray eyes pick me out of the crowd.
Aiden James raises his hand and silence
falls immediately over the rowdy supes. “There are many ways of finding the
appropriate Sacrifice,” he says, still looking at me. “Some Sovereigns chose to
hold a lottery. Some consult an oracle to learn the name of the right female. Some
even brew divining potions, though this sort of magic is best left to our
lovely witches.”
Lexy and the other witches around us hoot
and cheer and a fellow witch yells, “Witches do it on a broomstick!”
Somebody else yells back, “Witches do it
with
a broomstick. Or is that a dildo? I always get those two mixed up.”
“So do the witches,” a satyr says, causing
a general roar of laughter.
“You want me to strap the stick on and come
after you?” the first witch asks, making a mock threat. “I’ll show you
exactly
how magical my broom can be.”
More laughter and catcalls follow but I
can’t join in their excitement. I feel almost sick with fright. The divination
potion—he’s talking about me. About us, this afternoon in the shop! I’m sure of
it.
The new Sovereign raises his hand again for
silence. Once again, a hush falls. “I, however,” he continues, “Need none of
these methods to assist me. I know the name of my chosen Sacrifice.”
From the corner of my eye, I see several of
the gorgeous fairy girls primping their hair and smoothing their iridescent
wings. Clearly they think one of their number is about to be chosen, as always.
I think so too. At least I fervently hope so. I hope—
I become aware that the soft murmuring
around me has stopped. Even worse, everyone in the entire crowd seems to be
looking at me. I realize that in my desperate concentration on the fairy girls,
I have missed something very important.
“What?” I hiss at Lexy, who’s staring at me
as though I’ve suddenly grown a second head.
“Oh my Goddess, Emma…” She shakes her head,
unable to go on.
Then the deep, commanding voice of the new
Sovereign booms from the platform once more. “Emma Krist, come to me. Come take
your place at my side.”
No, it can’t be. It can’t.
But somehow it is. Aiden James is looking directly at me and so is
every other person in the entire Glen. It’s an introvert’s worst nightmare and
it’s happening to
me
.
“Go! Go on,he already called you twice,”Lexy hisses, giving me a little shove toward the stage. I stumble clumsily
and she grabs my arm, somehow keeping me upright. Her perfectly shaped
fingernails bite into the bare skin of my upper arm but I hardly feel the pain.
“Hurry,”she says urgently.
Somehow I manage to put one foot in front
of the other and make my way to the stage. I feel like a clumsy little kid who
has somehow found her way into the adult party and is now being punished for
her intrusion. Aiden James watches me every step of the way, which doesn’t help
a bit, I can tell you.
I get to the platform and I’m about to head
for the stairs on one side but James apparently can’t wait for that. Leaning
down, he slides his hands under my arms and picks me up as though I weigh no
more than a doll. Then he sets me down beside him and firmly takes my hand.
I feel a shock go through me again as he
interlaces our fingers and nods to the crowd. They are murmuring uncertainly
and several of the fairy girls look pissed. How dare the new vampire Sovereign
pick a dud over one of them?
That’s right—a dud. I’m a dud!
I think and a sudden rush of sweet relief floods me. I just have to
tell him this—that I have no magic—and surely he’ll realize what a poor choice
I am. After all, one of the Sacrifice’s main purposes is to feed her Master’s
power. I don’t like to think about what other appetites she’s supposed to feed.
But if I don’t have any magical power of my own, how can I possibly augment
Aiden’s? It’s impossible and I feel sure that as soon as I get a chance to
explain, he’ll let me go and pick someone else.
“Aiden,” I hiss at him from the corner of
my mouth. “Uh, Mr. James, I mean.” I’m honestly not sure what to call him.
“What is it, Emma?” To my intense
discomfort, he stops looking at the crowd and turns his full attention on me,
staring at me as though we were the only two people in the world.
“I…” I swallow hard and hear a little
clicking sound in my dry throat. “I just think there…there’s been some
mistake,” I stammer.
“Oh?” He raises one eyebrow at me. “And why
is that?”
“I’m a dud,” I say and it’s never been
harder to get that word out. I hope the crowd can’t hear me admitting to my
magical incompetence but from the spiteful glee on some of the fairy’s faces,
I’m pretty sure they can. Aiden James is still just staring at me so I have to
elaborate. “I don’t have any magical power,” I explain.
“Yes, I know what a dud is, Emma,” he says patiently.
“But that description does not fit you in the least.”
“Yes, it does,” I say desperately, still
hyperaware that every eye in the Glen is trained on the two of us. “I’ve never
been able to work a spell in my entire life. I know herbs and their magical
properties but, well, that’s about it.” I shrug uncomfortably. “So I
can’t
be
the one you want. There’s no way I could help, uh, feed your power because I
don’t have any of my own.”
His gray eyes flash silver in the deepening
twilight. “Who says I want you for your power, Emma? The Sacrifice gives her
Master far more than that.”
“I…but…I…” The dark promise in those
predatory eyes has my heart pounding against my ribs. “Mr. James…Sovereign…”
“That’s correct, I amyour
Sovereign, in more ways than one,” he growls softly. “And as such, I will put
up with no more backtalk. You,Emma Krist, are the female I choose. The
only one I want. I will have no one else by my side this first year of my
reign.”
“Oh,” I whisper faintly. Well, so much for
the idea that he’ll let me go because of my magical defects. His eyes are
boring into mine and I am powerless to look away. My knees feel like jelly.
“All right,” I whisper at last.
“The correct response is ‘Yes Master’,” he
says softly.
“Yes M-Master,” I repeat, only stumbling
over the words a little.
“That’s good. Very good, Emma.” He strokes
my cheek gently and the touch of his large hand seems to start a slow fire
under my skin. “A good first step. You must submit to me in this, as in all
things. Do I make myself clear?”
“Very clear…Master,” I add hastily.
He nods approval. “Very well. Then bare
your throat for my pleasure.”
My insides clench with a mixture of fear
and longing. Oh Goddess, I can’t believe this. He’s going to bite me, claim me
as his in front of the entire supernatural community. And there’s nothing I can
do to stop it. To be honest, I’m not even sure I
want
to stop it
anymore. There’s something about Aiden James—he’s overwhelming.
Slowly I tilt my head to the side, baring
my throat for him. He leans toward me and I can smell his scent. A dark, spicy
musk that is entirely masculine and completely intoxicating… But then he draws
back, frowning.
“What?” I look up at him uncertainly. Has
he changed his mind? Is he going to let me go after all?
“Do you not know that you are forbidden to
wear anything around your neck at the Sacrifice Ceremony?” he asks me sternly.
“I…but I’m not,” I protest. “I don’t have
on a necklace.”
“But you have this.” He fingers the loop of
silky blue fabric twisted around my throat.
“It…that’s part of my halter,” I protest,
putting a hand to my neck protectively. “And it’s not that big. I’m sure you
can, uh, work around it. Can’t you?”
His face darkens. “You have much to learn
about respect and submission, Emma. Take it off.”
“What? No way!” I cross my arms over my
chest. “I can’t be topless in front of this crowd.”
“Many others are.” He nods briefly at the
female weres, their bare breasts jiggling in the moonlight.
“I’m not like them,” I protest. “I can’t.”
“Are you refusing me?” he demands, his eyes
flashing again. “Think long and hard before you answer, Emma. And remember that
any defiance you offer me will be punished.”
“Am I refusing to go topless in front of
the entire Glen? Yes…yes, I am.” I lift my chin and glare at him, my heart
jackhammering in my chest. “And I don’t care about punishment as long as you
punish me in private.” I keep my voice barely above a whisper, for his ears
alone. I sense there’s only so much I can get away with and shouting defiance
of my new Lord and Master for the entire supernatural community to hear is definitely
crossing the line.
His eyes narrow but he nods, as though I’d just
confirmed something he’d been thinking about me. “Very well. I will take blood
from your wrist instead of your throat. But know this, Emma—you
will
be
punished for your disobedience. And you will learn to submit to me before our
time together is through.”
I can’t stop myself from shivering. His
voice is so cold I feel as if frost crystals are forming on my skin. Without
any further warning, he takes my hand and raises it to his mouth. Looking out
at the crowd, he says, “I claim this female as my Sacrifice. She is mine and no
other male may touch her so long as I own the rights to her body and soul.”
Then he opens his mouth and his fangs seem
to grow impossibly long and sharp in the moonlight. I try not to cry out when
he sinks them into the tender bracelet of blue veins that runs along the
underside of my wrist but I can’t help emitting a muffled shriek. That
hurts
.
It wouldn’t hurt so much if you were
open to me. If you were willing to submit.
The soft, deep voice in my head startles
me. How did that happen? Does he have some other magic I’m not aware of? Then
the pain is suddenly replaced with intense pleasure. I gasp as it floods me,
stroking my nipples until they’re tight with desire and sliding between my
pussy lips like rough, demanding fingers. My spine arches and my hips thrust involuntarily
forward, reacting to the phantom pleasure. I can’t help myself—I’m melting into
a puddle of lust. Wet and panting. Wanting more. But more what? What the hell
is going on? What’s happening to me?
I’m showing you how it can be. Next time
don’t make me force it.
Abruptly the pleasure ends, as though it were
cut off by a knife. I become aware that the crowd is roaring approval and
everything seems to be spinning around me. Why am I so dizzy? Surely he hasn’t
taken that much blood. So why?
The world starts to tilt, skewing crazily
sideways as he pulls at my wrist, drinking me down. Then, as suddenly as they
pierced me, his sharp fangs withdraw. Strong arms catch me before I can fall
face first onto the wooden stage. Aiden James lifts me easily, cradling me
against him with one arm.
“I declare this Sacrifice acceptable,” he
thunders, causing the crowd to roar even louder. “Celebrate in whatever way you
choose,” he continues. “I go to claim what is rightfully mine.”
Then he turns and strides off the stage,
taking me with him.
I lie helpless in his arms, overcome with
pain and pleasure and still in shock over the events of the last ten minutes.
Did that really just happen? Did the new Sovereign really just claim me—plain,
mousy little dud of a witch Emma Krist—as his Sacrifice? It doesn’t seem
real…doesn’t seem possible.
It’s only when the vampire deposits me in a
waiting limo and climbs in after me that it really begins to sink in. This is
real. This is happening. Right here and right now I have suddenly become
someone’s real life sex-and-blood slave. I am in bondage to the new Sovereign
and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I sit up slowly and look at Aiden James,
who is staring intently back at me. “That was quite a display of defiance you
put on,” he remarks. His deep voice is soft but there is something in his eyes
that makes me shiver.
“If you expect me to say I’m sorry you’re
going to be disappointed.” I don’t know where I get the courage to speak like
this to him. Maybe it’s just a vague feeling I have that if I don’t stand up to
him now I never will and he’ll run roughshod over me for an entire year.
Goddess, an entire year! I’m stuck with him for an entire year.
“I could make you begto apologize,”
he says. “But I won’t. Not now, anyway.”
I’m frankly surprised at this. “Why not?” I
blurt before I think.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you
complaining that I don’t choose to make you grovel?”
“No, no,” I say hastily. “But you just… You
went on and on about punishing me. I didn’t…didn’t think you’d let me out of it
so easily.”
“Oh, I’m not,” he says casually. “Make no
mistake about it, Emma, you
will
be punished for your insolence. Just
not right now.” He looks at me speculatively. “As for my reasons for the delay,
I find that anticipation heightens any punishment. Also, I find myself
intrigued by your modesty. Any other woman in the Glen would have gladly
stripped herself when I demanded it. Yet you refused.”
“I’m shy,” I say stiffly. His promise of
future punishment has my pulse pounding with fear but I try not to show it. “I
don’t do that kind of thing.”
“You mean you don’t show your body?”
I swallow hard and nod. “I mean maybe if I
were tall and skinny like my cousins but I’m not so I don’t want to…” Realizing
I’m babbling, I make myself stop.
He nods slowly. “I see, though I think
there’s more to it than that. Has it ever occurred to you that not every male
finds the ‘tall and skinny’ type arousing?” His eyes burn into mine. “Back when
I was made a vampire, women had curves—real curves. Full breasts and hips…” His
eyes roam over my body, making me blush and try to cover myself. “A man misses
such things,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
I don’t know how to respond to this. Is
Aiden James actually saying he prefers his women short and chunky to tall and
supermodel thin? Before I can think how to phrase the question, he is leaning
forward to give directions to the limo driver.
“Where are we going?” I ask, as the long
black car starts smoothly on its way.
“Home,” he says calmly.
“Your home or my home?” I ask, hoping fervently
that he’s just going to call it a night and drop me off at my apartment. We can
always get into the whole punishment-and-submission thing the next time we get
together, right? But Aiden’s next words shatter my half-formed hopes.
“My home
is
your home now,” he says.
“You will live in my house, eat at my table, and sleep in my bed for the
duration of your term as Sacrifice.”
“What?” I stare at him. “But what about my
clothes?”
“I’ll send someone for them.”
“My plants. Someone has to water them.”
“I’ll send someone to do both.”
I try again. “My job at the shop? Can I
still work there during the day?”
“I’m afraid not.” He gives me an annoyingly
superior smirk. “Serving your new Master is a full-time job.”
I want to say that he’s
not
my
Master but unfortunately that’s not true—he is. And besides, it would sound so
childish. Like saying,
‘You’re not the boss of me,’
or something equally
immature. Still, I grope for more reasons why I shouldn’t be tied to him 24/7.
“But my family— I’m the only one who works
the shop on a regular basis,” I say. “Without me there, one of the other
witches will have to stop practicing the craft in order to run it. That’s a
loss of income.”
“Your family will be more than adequately
compensated.” Aiden sounds almost bored. “Is there anything else?”
I try one last time. “My class. Advanced
Herbology. I take classes at night. Can I at least—”
He frowns. “When you’ve proven to me that
you know the true meaning of submission, then and only then will you be allowed
to resume your coursework.”
“But I paid good money for that class,” I
protest. “And one of the grading requirements is attendance. If I miss too much
I’ll fail.”
“Well then…” He gives me a lazy smile.
“You’d better learn to submit soon, hadn’t you?”
Suddenly I am furious. He thinks he has me
sewn up in a neat little bag, doesn’t he? “Let me tell you something,
Master
,”I say, leaning forward and pointing a finger at his broad chest. “If you think
I’ve got nothing better to do than bow and scrape and dance attendance on your
every whim, you’re wrong.”
His eyes narrow. “Is that so?”
I sense I’m going too far but I don’t care.
“Yeah,” I say sarcastically. “That’s freaking so. And if you expect me to enjoy
jumping through your ridiculous hoops and fall in love with you and beg for
your approval to do anything I want—”
“This has nothing to do with love,” he
snaps, cutting me off. “It’s about dominance and submission and that’s all.”He leans forward until I shrink back. He is crowding me, getting into my
personal space. “And believe me, Emma, I have a damngood reason for
demanding that you submit to me.”
“Would that reason be that you’re some kind
of a sexual sadist?” I say but my voice comes out in a breathless squeak
instead of the strong, fearless tone I hoped it would.
“Absolutely not.” Aiden leans back, resting
comfortably in the soft leather seat. “Dominance and submission is not a new
game to me but it’s not one I indulge in often. Usually I like to know that my
partner wants such treatment before I deal it out.”
“Well, I don’t. Want it, I mean,” I say as forcefully
as I can.
“How do you know?” he murmurs, eyeing me
with interest.
I look at him in disbelief. “How do I know
that I don’t want to be…be dominated? To be punished and hurt?”
“Punishment can be a pleasure in and of
itself, if performed correctly,” he purrs. His gray eyes are lazy and
half-lidded with something like hunger burning far back in their depths.
“How could anyone possibly get pleasure
from being punished?” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat.
“That depends on the punishment.” Lightly,
Aiden brushes my hot cheek with the back of his hand. A jolt of electricity
tingles through me at the gentle touch.
“I-I don’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Emma. Your
earlier modesty tells me that you have very little experience of the sexual
world, especially the dark side of that world, which we will explore together.”
A sudden image flares in my mind like a
struck match. I can see myself naked before him and tied to the bed. It’s a big
four-poster and my ankles and wrists are bound to each of the thick posts with
some kind of black cord. Aiden is leaning over me, holding something in his
hand. A blindfold. I suddenly know he’s going to put it on me and then do
anything he wants…anything at all. My nipples are as hard as bullets and my pussy
is dripping, my cunt swollen with a need only he can assuage. There is fear in
my hazel eyes but longing also. Longing to give myself to him completely, to
submit in any way he wants, to offer myself to my Master…
No!
I shake
my head, trying to clear it of the disturbing vision. Where did it come from?
Did I just have a bizarre fantasy or is the vampire somehow feeding me images
of what he wants to do to me? Either option seems equally upsetting.
“But…I don’t want to explore it,” I say,
trying to pick up the thread of our conversation.
He shakes his head. “A great pity. This
will be more difficult than I feared. Still, what you want is immaterial in
this case.”
“Why?” I demand. “
Why
is it immaterial?
If you always give your partners a chance to say yes or no then why not give
me
that chance?”
He frowns at me. “You ask far too many
questions. I would prefer you to sit in silence for the rest of our trip.”
Before I can protest his high-handed proclamation he adds, “Every word you
speak from now until we reach my home will add to the punishment you already
have coming to you.”
“I…you…you…” I sputter incoherently.
“That’s three more strokes,” he says,
sounding almost bored. “Would you care to try for more?”
Actually, I wouldn’t. I sink back in the
butter-soft leather seat and fume silently instead.
Arrogant bastard!
But
the strange vision I had of myself tied to his bed won’t leave my head. And I’m
already wondering, what
kind
of strokes is he talking about?