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Demon Mine

Demons Series Book 1

by Marina Simcoe

Genre: Paranormal Romance

They are big, strong and silent. Their faces are hidden behind masks and their bodies are enclosed in armor suits. They took me from my home in the middle of the night and have been holding me in isolation for months. I don't fully understand the purpose of my captivity. No one explains anything to me. No one even talks to me.

Nearly driven to madness with no more hope for freedom, I no longer care if I live or die.

And then he speaks to me. Just a few words . . . He throws me a lifeline and helps me find my way back to sanity. He becomes my only companion. My light in the darkness.

I suspect they may not be entirely human. What's worse is that he may be one of them. 

New Edition, 2018

Warning: Demon Mine is a paranormal romance with dark elements. It contains sexual situations, graphic descriptions of intimacy, and potential triggers. Intended for mature readers.

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I was abducted one January night. Startled, I woke up with a leather-clad hand covering my mouth. I didn’t even get a chance to panic, my heart just dropped into an abyss and stayed there, frozen in horror. There were two of them. They scooped me up as if I weighed nothing, and hauled me out of the bedroom. I realized later that the alarm system I religiously armed every night before going to sleep did not go off. I had no idea how they got inside—the door was locked and my place was on the seventh floor of a high-rise building. They opened the front door and exited into the brightly lit hallway as if they had no reason to worry about being seen by anyone. That was when the alarm finally blared. The one carrying me threw me over his shoulder, and they ran towards the stairwell at the end of the hallway. I couldn’t see much, but my mouth was now free. My heart exploded inside my stomach into a full-blown panic, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I thrashed with all my might, slamming my fists into my captor’s back and kicking my knees against his chest. There were cameras, and I was hoping that somebody had already called the police. Then I felt it—a cool sensation against my naked thigh. Darkness took over my mind, like a cloud of ink dissolving in water, and I passed out. The last thing I remembered before waking up in my cell was being in the backseat of a moving vehicle. However, every time I’d woken up and opened my eyes in the car, someone would touch me plunging me back in the darkness again.

* * *

I did talk to him again. In fact, I talked to him every chance I got, which was often since he was now the only one who brought my meals and bath water. The only time the other two guards showed up was to accompany him to take me to the arena in the evening. I was still trying to get his name and stood in front of him, blocking his way to the mattress when he delivered my lunch. “I need to know your name,” I insisted. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. Or maybe you do want to talk, but you’re not allowed?” I waited for a second, giving him a chance to reply, but he remained silent.

“Well, I’ll talk to you anyway. It wasn’t my choice to be locked up in here with only you for company. But if you’re all I’ve got, I may as well get to know you. Right? Let’s start with your name. What would you like me to call you?” Apparently determined not to be distracted from his task by my talking, he took a step to the side in an attempt to walk around me and deposit the lunch tray by the mattress. I let him but then turned around and faced him on his way out, blocking his exit. “Come on, it’s not like I can call you ‘dude’ or ‘buddy’. It really doesn’t suit you.” I kept my tone light and casual, making a huge effort not to let my desperation seep through. No reaction. He stood calmly in front of me with both arms hanging loosely, legs parted in a military stance, and said absolutely nothing. Of course, he could have easily moved me aside on his way to the door if he really wanted to leave, but he didn’t do that either. Instead, he just stood there and listened to whatever nonsense came out of my mouth. Not much of a silver lining, but I’d take all I could get. “Okay then. I can always make a name up for you. If you don’t want to talk, just nod if you like it.” No reaction, as expected. “So what should I call you? How about Josh? I knew a boy in elementary school called Josh. He wasn’t very bright . . . and a bit of a bully actually. But you remind me of him, for some reason. Or Tank? My friend had a dog named Tank. He was very friendly,” I said brightly. “Tank would actually suit you really well, with all that armour you wear.” He remained unresponsive and just stood there, as if frozen in time and space. “Okay, fine,” I mumbled defeated. Feeling disappointed once again and a little irritated, I stepped aside to let him pass. “I’ll just have to make up a name for you, without your approval. And I’ll make sure it’s something really stupid, too.” I glared at his back as he exited the cell and tried but failed not to take his rejection personally. “See how you’d like being called Tin Man, or Kettle Head, or Dumbass With Zero Brains And a Black Hole For a Heart!”

* * *

My cousin’s husband picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” “Hi Jim. It’s . . . it’s Alyssa,” I started and continued since he didn’t reply right away. “Sorry, I haven’t been in touch sooner. It’s a long story. I’m on my way to Calgary now, and I was wondering if I could stop by—” “Are you kidding me?” His voice thundered into my ear, startling me for a moment. “You people have no shame!” “What? Jim—” I was confused and a little hurt by his yelling. “Alyssa is dead! Can’t you let the poor girl rest in peace?” What? “But I’m not dead! Jim, can I talk to Sarah, please?” “No way in hell! I’m not putting Sarah through this again. She got over the death of her cousin and moved on with her life. Leave her alone and don’t ever call here again. Yeah, and tell that creepy boyfriend of yours to stop calling here looking for her too or I’ll call the police next time!” The line went dead. I kept pressing the phone to my ear, my mouth open in protest. 

* * *

“In the dream I got to touch you without the fear of harming you.” His thumb slid along the front of my throat. “I tasted your skin.” A flash of heat, ignited by his touch, travelled through me. I swallowed hard and gently traced the fabric of his t-shirt over the bite mark. “Does it still hurt?” “Yes,” he answered truthfully. “So, immortal doesn’t mean invincible?” I moved my fingers up the side of his neck and traced the edge of his jaw, feeling the slight prickling of the stubble there. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch, then turned his head and kissed the inside of my hand. “Alyssa.” His voice grew rough and low as he drew me closer. My hands linked behind his neck, I felt his breath in my hair as he ran his palms down my back. Melting into his touch, I allowed myself to simply enjoy this moment. The closeness of him. The scent of the man whom I could never resist. The warmth of his hands sliding under my shirt and up my back. The soft press of his lips, just above my ear. He was my drug of choice, and I was getting my fix. Just for one short moment. Then I took a bracing inhale. “Sytrius . . .” I touched his face with my shaking hand. “Please . . . Take it,” I begged. He knew immediately what I meant. I couldn’t do it on my own. I was too far gone in my constant need for him. He had to take these feelings away from me to make me stop. Leaning back a little, he yanked his glove off with grim determination then covered my hand with his. A spike of anxiety mixed in with excitement in me at the sight of his bare hand. “I’d break my own arm before I hurt you, Alyssa,” he vowed in a tone not allowing for any doubt. I waited for the calming cold sensation, but it never came. Instead he slid his bare hand up my arm and curled his fingers around the back of my neck. “Take it, please,” I implored him. “I can’t fight it anymore. I can’t stop on my own.” “I don’t want you to stop.” With his teeth, he ripped the glove off his other hand. “Please, let me touch you. I want to feel you. I want to make you feel.” Realizing what he was asking of me, I shook my head in panic even as the need for him flared bright and hot inside me. “No, just take it.” “It won’t last. If I take your desire now, it will only come back. Please, let me give you the release. I don’t want to stop touching you.” His words broke through my flimsy defences, and my heart beat faster when I whispered, “Touch me, Sytrius,” in complete surrender, flying straight into the flame, hoping against all odds that I could still emerge on the other side of it unscathed. “Touch me any way you want . . .” I gave him my permission. He made a noise deep inside his throat, not unlike a tiger’s growl, and grabbed me then lowered me gently onto the bed. “No gloves.” I hurriedly whispered my only condition. “No gloves,” he repeated in a hot whisper. “No mask.” He placed his knees on either side of my hips. “No hard suit.” He lowered his head and placed hot, tender kisses along the side of my face down to my neck. “No one else. Just me.” He opened the buttons of my top quickly. “And you.” Moving his palms up my stomach, he removed my shirt and cupped my breasts. I arched my back, welcoming his touch. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He lowered his mouth to my breast, warm tongue circling the nipple and driving me mad with need. “I’ve touched, but I couldn’t feel,” he breathed against my skin as he slid his hand up along my back then buried his fingers into my hair on the back of my head, propping himself on his elbow directly over me. Gently, he massaged my breast. “I wanted to feel this so much.” He rolled my nipple between his fingers, making my hips jerk under his as I gasped and moaned. “I wanted to taste this.” He moved his mouth down my stomach, covering my skin with kisses. “And this.” He whispered, sliding his hands under the elastic band of my pyjama pants, and dragging them down. Then I felt his hot, wet mouth between my thighs as his tongue skimmed along my folds, sending electrifying waves of desire through me.

“Oh my God . . .” I gasped, breathless, as he moved his tongue in circles then dipped it inside me. Only it was not a god in that bed with me but a demon unleashed. I curled my fingers in his hair, desperate to hold on to him in the approaching whirlwind of sensations as the full force of orgasm hit me, shuddering my body. Lips parted in ecstasy, I rolled my head on the pillow, while Sytrius continued to drag his tongue through my folds languidly, chasing the last ripples of pleasure through me. Through the post-orgasmic glow, I felt his hand move up to my breast again, kneading it gently, his thumb stroking my nipple, while he rained short little kisses on the sensitive skin of the inside of my thigh.

I released his hair and fisted the bed sheets, feeling the pressure building up inside me yet again. “Sytrius.” He looked up at me—his hair disheveled from my fingers, the bright crimson light deep in his eyes—and grinned wickedly. His lips hovering mere millimeters from where I needed him most, he whispered, “Again, my angel,” and lowered his mouth on me. 

* * *

He brushed loose hairs away from my face and peppered light kisses on my forehead.

Calming under his caresses, I was slowly regaining the clarity of thought. His breath felt like a minty-cool breeze against the skin on my temple, leaving behind a subtle chilling sensation like melting snowflakes. And I recognized the reason of my unexpected calmness—he was taking my stress and worry away from me, soothing me in the most efficient way possible. “Don’t, Sytrius!” I gasped, recoiling away from him. “You can’t afford to get sick right now.” But, he drew me back to him. “None of your feelings could ever hurt me again. We are one and the same, Alyssa. You and me.” The door opened, and Andras walked in. Lost in each other, neither of us offered him any greeting. “You don’t have to go through with this.” Sytrius’s voice sounded firm, as if he had made a decision. “We’ll leave. I’ll take you away from everything here.” “What?” I exhaled in shock. “We can’t—” “What is going on?” Andras stood behind Sytrius. “I need to get Alyssa out of here. We’re leaving the country,” he replied to Andras, without taking his eyes off me. Andras’s chest rose with a deep inhale. “You may never get another hearing.” He frowned, but his voice remained even. Sytrius ignored him. “We’ll leave. Right now.” He made a move to get up. “Sytrius, what are you talking about?” I stopped him, my mind reeling from the sudden change in him. “I’ll take you far away from this place. We’ll never have to come back.” Was it possible? Did a place where we could be truly safe exist? Could we raise a family in peace? Would they ever leave us alone? I desperately wished with all my heart for it to be true. “They will never stop hunting you,” Andras said gravely. Sytrius paid him no attention. “Eighty years, Alyssa. You’ve asked me for eighty years, and I’m giving them to you. We can hide. I will keep you safe.” Run, again. Hide.

I glanced at Andras. “Do you honestly believe we have a good chance tonight?” He met my gaze straight on. “No one would guarantee it. But I do believe the mood in the Council is sympathetic, yes. I would never urge you to come if I believed it was hopeless, Alyssa.” “This is not just about me, is it?” I replied slowly and turned back to Sytrius. Not even about us. The hearing, tonight . . . It may help others—” “I don't care about others.” Sytrius’s voice rose, his fingers dug into my arms. “Don’t you see, Alyssa? You are the only one who matters to me. You are my everything. Your happiness is my mission in life, my purpose. Without it, none of it makes sense.” “Sytrius.” Andras stepped closer. His frown deepened. A note of steely determination cut through his voice. “If you don’t show up tonight, you’ll have both Councils on your heels. There is no place on Earth where they won’t find you. Sooner or later—” “Eighty years, Andras,” Sytrius threw over his shoulder. “I can outrun them for eighty years.” “And then?” I whispered, sensing that his resolve was born from desperation. “Then, it doesn't matter.” “It matters to me. Your life, your happiness matter to me, Sytrius. If we run, they may forget about me after a while, but they’ll never forget about you. Sooner or later, they will find you. And they will punish you.” Capture him, sentence and torture him . . . And, I might not even be around by then to be able to make any difference at all. “Alyssa. Look at you. I don’t need to have the insight of a demon to see that you’re terrified. You’re shaking. Your face is white like the walls in this room. And I’m supposed to drag you right into the snake pit tonight?”

“It’s not about me!” I repeated, louder this time to match the volume of his voice.

No, it was so much more than me. Even more than I had thought. Now, there was a baby, too. What would he do if I told him about the baby right now, frantic as he was? Would anyone be able to reason with him at all? At the moment it seemed the news of this magnitude would just send him into a tailspin, stripping him of any control. “Everything is about you, Alyssa!” He bellowed, rising to his feet. I could see his body vibrate with strain as he began to pace in front of me. “Sytrius. You need to calm down.” Andras’s words had the exact opposite effect. Sytrius spun on his heel to face him. “Calm? Calm!” He roared, his hands fisted at his sides. “Calm is lack of emotion, Andras. A void. An absolute nothingness! I’d spent centuries in it before she drew me into the light. I’m not risking a hair off her head for either demons or humans.” Andras’s eyes narrowed, and his hands formed tight fists, too. Anxious that their fists might be put to work next, I jumped off the bed and circled my arms around Sytrius’s middle, pressing my face to his back. “Don’t. Please.” His chest heaved, his heart thundered frantically against my cheek, and I squeezed my eyes tight. How on Earth could I spring my news on him now, even if it tore me apart to keep it inside? “You need to calm down, Sytrius.” Andras repeated, inhaling deeply himself. “I understand more than you realize what you have at stake. But tonight, you need to keep a level head. It may mean all the difference between your freedom and incarceration. Between her life and death.” Sytrius’s back stiffened under my cheek, and Andras continued before he could interrupt him. “The hearing is your chance. Both of you. I give you my promise to get Alyssa out of there safe and sound, no matter what. She will be safe.” Sytrius held still in my embrace, even as his body shook with tension. I wished I could do for him what he had done for me so many times—take his stress and his worry. I would gladly suffer his pain for him. He had been my rock—my constant source of hope and strength—ever since he came into my life. Now, it was my turn to be strong, to give him faith. I braced myself before voicing my decision.

“We’ll go to the hearing tonight,” I started. He stirred in my arms, but I tightened my hold around him, not ready to meet his penetrating gaze yet. I needed to rein in my emotions first, before I could let him see them. The baby. The thought shot through me again, and I forced it back with everything I had. Not now. I couldn’t tell him now. I had to believe that tonight would be the beginning of our new life and that I would have the chance to share the news with him when all of this was over. I needed to have this faith, because I had to give it to him now to help him win tonight. “Together, Sytrius. We’ll go through all of this together.” “Alyssa.” Finally, I let him turn around in my arms to face me. “It’s our chance for freedom, Sytrius. Yours and mine.” I let him stare at me, my emotions on display. My decision made, the messy hurricane of fear, worry, panic, and anxiety was still there, but it was now buried under a solid concrete block of focus and determination, which I used to strengthen my voice as I spoke. “If we run, we’ll never be free. Living in hiding, constantly looking over our shoulders in fear of being captured and separated would be just another kind of jail.” I raised my hands to his face, letting my voice cradle him in softness now. “We need to have faith, my love. I believe in you.”

The Forgotten

Demons Series Book 2

I’ve been abducted, twice in as many months.

The world of my captors is a dark and mysterious place, but for me it also holds forbidden pleasures I’ve never experienced before.

Still, when I get a chance to run, I take it.

A rebel and a convicted criminal, he has spent most of his existence suspended between two worlds, in a state his kind call Deep Sleep. Nearly forgotten by all.

Until I disturb his slumber.

The touch of a demon awaken is always dangerous. And for me, it turns out treacherous in more ways than one.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. LET THE SLEEPING DEMONS LIE.

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Keller sat, stretching his legs in front of him. “Your situation is not normal. Women taken by this particular group don’t, usually, get to leave.” “You mean I was supposed to stay here forever?” I balled my hands into fists to prevent them from shaking as dread trembled through me. “Things have changed.” He waved me off. “Everyone is being released. All you’ll have to do is to remain quiet about what happened to you here.” “Why would I?” I snapped. “Kidnapping and forceful confinement are serious crimes. So is sexual assault. Those responsible will have to be punished.” “You’re not capable to bring any punishment on their heads, Kitty.” “The police—” “—know nothing about them and never will. Trust me. The best thing in your situation is to stick with the plan of your release, get back to your life, and never speak about this place or the creatures who populate it.” Creatures? “Why should I believe anything you’re saying?”

“I hold an official position with the Priory of Grimien.” “Never heard of it.” “And you never would have, under normal circumstances. The Priory is a secret organization. It was created with a sole purpose to gain and keep control of the . . . um, individuals who took you.” “Well, you’ve been doing a poor job of controlling them then. How are they getting away with all of this?” My voice rose, as my patience thinned. “Who are they?” He drew in a deep breath. “They are . . . not from this world, Kitty.” “What?” “Surely, you’ve noticed some unusual things about them during your time here.” “You mean besides them being perverts who like to watch?” I scoffed. “Believe me, they can do far more harmful things than watching.” His gaze shifted back to the guards again. “They’ve been part of our world for over a millennium, and they had wreaked havoc during their early centuries on Earth, before we found a reliable way to control them.” “Who are they?” I insisted. “Demons.” He leaned to me from his chair, his voice low. “In flesh and blood.” Was he out of his mind? I shrunk back, all the way to the wall, worried for my own safety now, being one on one with a clearly insane man who seemed to honestly believe in demons. ‘Surely, you’ve noticed some unusual things about them.’ Their eyes.

The blood-red glow I’d witnessed once. The flashing blue lights I’d noticed on more than one occasion. Could there be a more sane, normal explanation to that? “You don’t have to believe me, Kitty. Actually, it is irrelevant if you do or don’t.” Mister Keller leaned back in his chair. “All I want from you is your cooperation in keeping their existence a secret from the general population.” “Why would I do that?” I definitely need to get to the closest police station as soon as I’m able, to let the proper authorities sort this mess out. “Because, really, you don’t have a choice. What good would it do for you to go public with your disclosure? No one would believe you. If you insist, you would be likely declared insane.” “There is plenty of evidence of their existence. This place—” “Is a private property with no complaints against it. I guarantee you will never be able to obtain so much as a search warrant for it. The Priory would make sure of it.” “Why would any human organization cover up the crimes of these . . . demons?” “This should not be of your concern. You will be provided a suitable compensation, appropriate counseling, and means to return to normal life as soon as possible. From this point on, our organization will guarantee your protection from the demons here.” “How?” “The Priory agreed to go forward with a more agreeable alternative to our previous arrangement with them, which was suggested by their Councils. By the way, you wouldn’t happen to have any particular affection for one of your guards?” “What? God, no!” “Good.” He turned to leave. “I’ll leave you rest then. Needless to say, there won’t be any more . . . um, nightly sessions.”

* * *

Throbbing pain pounded inside my head. The pressure threatened to explode into full-blown agony as awareness slowly trickled in. I lay on my side, my arm numb and trapped under me. To free it, I had to turn over but couldn’t. My muscles didn’t cooperate when I tried. The effort only made my stomach churn. Then I heard muted noise. Voices. I heard them speak—two people—I believed, but I couldn’t grasp the meaning of what was said. They must have spoken at a normal volume, but the fog in my head muffled them. As the haze gradually dissipated and I was able to hear them clearly, I realized, I still couldn’t understand them because they spoke some other language than English. German possibly, judging by the harsher sounds. My fingers twitched. Could I move now? I shifted a little then stilled again, stifling the moan of pain in my throat. Instinctively, I remained quiet so as not to alert them that I was awake. Then I remembered what happened. They took me. Again. Something didn’t make sense with my abduction this time, but I couldn’t focus on it yet. Any effort to concentrate sent another burst of sharp pain through my head. The voices got louder, it sounded like they were arguing. Carefully, I half-opened one eye. Still dressed in my jacket and boots over my grey pajamas, I lay in the back seat of a vehicle that wasn’t moving. Save for the faint light from the car’s console, it was dark. The two men talking were the driver and the front seat passenger. The driver opened the door, and I caught the glow of a cell phone screen as he stuck his hand outside. Searching for reception? In any case, judging by his frustrated groan when he pulled his hand back inside the car, he didn’t find what he was looking for. The one in the passenger seat said something accusingly, and the driver snapped at him again. It was pitch black outside. Was it still the same night? The car moved again, and I was finally able to shift off my numb arm following the jerking momentum of the vehicle. Blood returned to my arm with a prickling ache, and I swallowed another moan, determined not to disclose my returned awareness to my abductors while I assessed the situation. The car came to a stop, so suddenly, I nearly rolled off the seat to the floor. My head lolled with a sharp stab of headache, and I couldn’t help a soft groan this time. Thankfully, the men in the front were still arguing loudly. The passenger yelled agitatedly then got out, slamming the door behind him. The driver waited for a few moments then cursed under his breath and got out, too. Left alone, I made an effort to lift my hand and gave a silent prayer when it obeyed. Then I tried to open the door next to my head. Locked. I didn’t bother with the one at my feet. Instead, I heaved myself up over the centre console to peek through the windshield. In the yellow beam of headlights, I saw the backs of the two men dressed in dark suits walking away from the vehicle. It appeared they moved to the crossroad sign at the intersection ahead. Did my kidnappers get lost? The notion made me giggle uncontrollably even as my whole body tensed with nerves. Must be the drugs wearing off.

As fast as I could muster with my limbs barely under my control, I crawled into the front passenger’s seat. This door opened when I turned the handle as quietly as I could, and I slipped outside, crouching beside the car. My attention fully on the two dark figures illuminated by the headlights, I closed the door carefully, afraid to breathe, and attempted to run in a crouch into the forest on the side of the road. My legs gave under me, though, and I rolled off into the ditch, my body feeling like an uncoordinated sack of muscles and pain. I needed to run or at least to crawl further into the forest somehow, but all I could do was just lie there, trying to calm my churning stomach, which was set on emptying itself any moment. Throwing up would definitely make some noise, I feared. I flipped to my back and stared up into the dark sky, counting my breaths and desperately willing my insides to settle. The arguing grew louder—they were coming back to the car. Soon they’d see I wasn’t there. They’d search around and find me. Everything inside me clenched with fear. Afraid to move towards the forest where I might make more noise in the underbrush, I rolled to my stomach and crawled along the ditch, away from the voices. I stilled as soon as the voices paused, halting my breath while lying low in the dirt and dry grass. As if the whole world came to a stop, even my heartbeat seemed to pause the moment the car doors opened and closed. The noise of the engine moved away. Only then I dared to release my breath. A painful knot twisted in my stomach, and I leaped to all fours just in time for my stomach to finally empty itself in the ditch. Again and again. Until the spasms came up in dry heaves, with nothing left in me. My arms and legs shook. Feeling drained, I fought the urge to collapse back in the ditch next to my own vomit, pushing up to my feet instead, then staggered through the undergrowth into the forest.

Sooner or later the two in the car would notice I wasn’t there anymore and come back to search for me.

* * *

As the rising sun filtered in through the boarded windows, it became apparent the person was a male. Dressed in a plain white t-shirt, he lay on his back with his arms stretched over the quilt that covered him up to his chest. His enormous body appeared too large for the bed. Even at rest, his biceps stretched the short sleeves of his t-shirt to the limit and his shoulders spread wide. The thick ropes of muscles in his forearms and the hard planes of his chest straining against the t-shirt spoke of vitality and strength. Yet the eerie feeling created by his utter stillness wouldn’t leave me the more I stared at him. There was something ethereal in the peaceful beauty of his face and in the pale glow of his long, golden hair fanning over the pillow. The unearthly perfection of his features didn’t seem to be touched by death, even as it hardly belonged to the world of the living, either. The glowing beauty drew me in, making me forget any caution. I went and sat on the bed at his side. From close up, I noticed the near translucency of his pale skin. The shadows around his eyes and in his sunken cheeks marred his perfect features, giving him an expression of eternal suffering. My heart ached with compassion for the complete stranger in front of me. Only then I realized that his chest did not rise and fall. He was a corpse, after all. Did he die recently? Compelled by need to check for a pulse, I touched his neck. His skin was cool but soft and pliable, far from the stiffness of dead flesh. I slid my thumb along his jawline, enthralled by the exquisite sensation of his skin under my touch. A deep rumble rolled through the silence of the room. With startling speed, his hand shot to mine, pressing it to his face with crushing force. His back arched, and snarling groan tore out of his chest. An icy cold sensation seeped into my palm from his face then spread up my arm alarmingly fast. Startled into shock initially, I finally jerked on my hand in a futile attempt to yank it free. It felt like my skin fused with his face, frozen solid, filling me with cold horror. I jammed my knee into the mattress, leaning all the way back, away from him and off the bed. For a brief moment, I believed my hand slid a little under his, giving me a tiny flicker of hope. Then I recognized the grey glove on his hand. I’d seen the same ones on every guard in my basement jail at the base. My head swam, as my vision dimmed. Thick veins bulged in his neck and across his face, turning it from beautiful to terrifying. The last I saw before the darkness took me completely were his eyes opening wide with the white-blue light shining bright through them in the poorly lit bedroom. He was one of them. 

* * *

We only made it out the door and into the short wide hallway that led to the lobby, when Ivarr swung me to the side, pressing my back against the wall. “Don’t go out tonight,” I exhaled quickly, searching his eyes, as my pulse thundered in my ears. “Stay with me.” I lifted my hands to his shoulders, as his large body covered mine, and dug my fingers in his hard muscle, bringing him to me. “Tonight, feed off me.” 

* * *

“My dinner,” he rasped against my mouth, his expression wild. “Now.” I hugged his neck as he swept me off my feet and carried me to the elevators. As if through a haze, I caught a curious glance cast our way by the night receptionist at the desk of the otherwise deserted lobby and hid my face in Ivarr’s shoulder. “You’re a true Viking with caveman tendencies.” I giggled softly. He shifted me in his arms to press the elevator call button. “A true Viking would’ve tossed you over his shoulder and run, which would have been much faster, too,” he groaned. “I have to hold back and act civil to avoid questions that would slow us down.” He carried me into the elevator and kissed me again before the doors even closed. “There must be cameras in here,” I panted between his kisses, cupping the side of his face. He leaned away a little, and my breath caught at the sight of him. The passion of his eyes on me, the pools of blue rimmed with bright crimson. It didn’t scare me in the slightest to see the red glow this time. “Your eyes,” I whispered, gliding my hand up his smooth cheekbone. “They are so beautiful.” I smiled. “You’re too handsome to be a Viking. You need some ruggedness to go with your muscles. A couple of scars? A beard, maybe?” “Scars don’t stay on my kind. Everything heals eventually.” He kissed my hand at his face. “But I can grow a beard for you.” He chuckled. “Just say the word, my queen.” I wrapped my arms round him, bringing us closer as he kissed my neck—hot and urgent. My eyelids drooped, and I melted into him, cascading waves of warmth spreading through me with his every kiss. Breathless, I couldn’t get enough of his mouth on me. I was only half-aware of him unlocking the door of our room then kicking it shut behind us. Lowering me gently onto the bed, he trailed kisses down my collarbone while blindly searching through my expansive skirt with his hands. I felt his hot mouth close over my nipple through the fabric of the dress the same moment his large hands landed on my naked thighs. A sharp charge of desire shot through my lower stomach and pulsed between my legs. The need for him flooded my veins with liquid heat. “Ivarr,” I pleaded, curling my fingers in his hair as he rolled my nipple between his teeth. He flashed me a crimson glance and tugged on my underwear as I lifted my hips to help him slide it down my legs. Rising to his knees on the bed next to me, he clicked his belt buckle open. “This course will be fast,” he warned, pulling his zipper down. “Control is hard around you.” He grabbed my hips and yanked me to him along the bed then covered my body with his. “I’m starving,” he murmured against the side of my neck as his hand moved down between us. 

Marina Simcoe likes to write sweet and sexy love stories about characters who may or may not be entirely human. She firmly believes that our contemporary world could use a little bit of the extraordinary.

She has lots of fun exploring how her out-of-this-world characters with their own set of beliefs, values, and aspirations fit into our everyday life.

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