читать дальшеChapter 31- Sanctuary by nicola71
Penelope heard the deafening thud of something enormously heavy hitting the floor.
Vampires and lycanthropes could easily lift weight that even an abnormally strong human would struggle with, so the gym at the circus, which was a deceptively large space given the nature of the equipment, was furnished with some non-traditional apparatus.
London had just let one such apparatus hit the floor. He was dead lifting well over 1200 pounds with a bar that had eight Hummer tires rather than metal weights attached to it. Penelope had come into the gym just in time to see his muscles flex under the stress of the lift. He was shirtless with only a pair of black Adidas athletic pants that hung low on his hips, revealing every muscle in his back. His skin was shiny with effort and from this angle and distance she could truly see a difference in him that was not easily noticeable in clothes. Or out of them, when she was close up. London was ripped!
He turned around and drew in a deep breath that was taken more out of surprise rather than need. He had not expected her so soon, and reached for the black T-shirt that had been haphazardly thrown over the bars of one of the stationary bikes.
“Don’t,” Penelope said as she walked towards him. His abs were well defined and he had attained that elusive lower abdominal ‘V’ that was so coveted by modern men. Her eyes worked their way down and across every ripple of muscle until she could only use her memory to envision what was hidden by the black fabric of his pants.
London stood as still as he could. It was a skill perfected by all vampires of his age, but at this moment he was finding it hard to maintain. He focused on the woman coming towards him instead. Her body was soft and toned and the black yoga pants hugged her hips and thighs, the curves he had committed to memory. How many times now had his hands slid over the soft skin that lay underneath?
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice the change,” when she was close enough, she reached up and laid her hand upon his bare shoulder. She was always so close to him, so she tried to think of the last time she admired his nude body from afar. When he was nude, afar was the last place she wanted to be.
“It’s usually too subtle to show with us,” he tried to explain the physics of ‘how’ it happened in order to avoid the ‘why’ it happened.
“But, this,” she paused, sliding her hand over his chest, “this much change had to...god, London, how much time have you been spending in here?”
Penelope knew that even the smallest build in muscle for a vampire required a tremendous amount of energy and time even though a human who spent that much time in the gym would have garnered an extremely noticeable change. Some vampires who had been turned very young often spent hours each night pumping iron in order to appear older, only to have it dissipate quickly if they did not dedicate themselves to working out. She had seen Byron in the gym often enough to know how hard he worked to maintain his build, since he was turned before he had fully achieved his mans body.
Just at that moment, an unexpected answer came from the door as Graham walked in with two shifters she didn’t recognize, closely followed by WickedTruth.
“He’s in here, curiously, whenever you’re otherwise occupied,” Graham smirked and chuckled in the way men do when they are busting one another’s chops. The problem was nobody ever busted London’s chops. Of course Graham was always pushing limits everyone else seemed to see but him.
The two other wolves stopped dead in their tracks, unsure of what might happen next, but before anyone could register movement, Truth was standing next to London with his hand on the vampire’s shoulder. London’s eyes had bled to glowing pitch; something Penelope had often seen when they were together, infused with passion. This time, however, they were emitting something altogether different.
Graham growled lowly, feeling the anger pulsing through the room. His wolf was dangerously close to the surface tonight on account of the general anxiety of the last few days in the circus, but neither wolf nor vampire really wanted a fight. Everyone was just a little on edge. It was Truth’s voice that soothed the room.
“As we are all in here when we have some down time, isn’t that correct Graham? I mean, you didn’t get that big because you have a particularly active social life,” Truth’s voice mirrored the good natured ribbing that Graham’s had attempted. Lucky for everyone in the room, Graham was often a victim of Truth’s jibes, and he was too thick to see it as the cover up that it was. If he had been closer, he would have seen how deeply Truth’s fingers pressed into London’s flesh, keeping him from launching himself across the room.
Those fingers, and the fact that Penelope was staring wide-eyed at him were the only things keeping London from losing it all over the place.
“Thanks for reminding me of how underused I am around here, Truth,” Graham smiled and grabbed his crotch, “good thing I always have you to spar with,” he laughed and walked over to the large sparring mat with the other two wolves laughing it off as well. It seemed like only WickedTruth knew how close they had come to disaster.
London’s eyes seeped back to normal, and he shrugged his way out of Truth’s grip. Nothing was said between them as Truth followed the others over to the sparring mat, smiling and nodding courteously to Penelope on the way.
Wicked spoke up then, feeling that London needed a change of venue, “Care to work that out with steel, my friend?”
London nodded, and turned to Penny, softening his voice to hide the boiling anger over being exposed in front of people he didn’t know, let alone the woman he loved to distraction.
“What are you going to do?” The idea of leaving her in the same room with Graham after his rude exchange, even if she didn’t catch on, made his fury rise once again, but if he was to draw her attention away from it he had to act naturally.
Penelope did her best to act naturally as well. She knew something was up, but also knew her Knight well enough to know that here and now was not the place to address it. Truth’s eyes spoke to her as he passed, letting her know as much. She had not had many dealings with the brothers other than a formal introduction, but she felt at ease around them, and she had heard enough about their loyalty to Jean-Claude and Anita, as well as their martial skills to trust their judgment.
“You go on into the salle*, I’ll join you there in a while if I finish before you. I’m going to put in a few miles on the treadmill, and I really need to stretch,” she looked around at the very manly surroundings and covered her ears from the blaring music that Graham had turned on. “I really should ask Jean-Claude if he could have a sound proof yoga room built!” She smiled, happy that whatever the situation was had been diffused for the time being, but made a mental note to investigate further later tonight.
She went in to kiss London, but he backed away from her suddenly, although he smiled and nodded. Then he turned and slowly followed Wicked.
Penelope stood watching him walk away wondering what on earth could be his problem, why he didn’t want anyone to see her kiss him, and why exactly he felt the need to punish himself in the gym when she wasn’t around.
She started her cold stretches hoping that his behavior had nothing to do with her confession the night before.
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The blackened windows of the Escalade hid its occupants from the slowly waking streets of the St. Louis night. Castor drove silently, his brother riding shotgun. Asher and Ixion were next. Meng Die, Faust and Ares followed in an innocuous black car driven by one of the new lions. His name was Davis, and he’d recently arrived from Los Angeles. He’d been a stunt driver in Hollywood until he was outed as a shifter.
Although the Hollywood people enjoyed partying with and fucking the preternatural locals, they drew the line at working with them in situations where they might be unintentionally infected, especially by weres. The local Rex there thought Davis would be useful to Haven, and therefore Jean-Claude. The Master of the City of LA couldn’t call lions, but he and the Rex were about as famous as Jean-Claude, at least with the tabloids and paparazzi, so Davis felt quite at home here. He also loved driving all the cars that the St. Louis preternatural VIPs seemed to favor. Escalades, Maybachs*, very fast Italian sports cars. When anybody needed an expert driver and a fast ride Davis was their man, as many of the ladies of St. Louis could now attest to as well. With his movie star meets surfer good looks and lion’s libido, he very rarely spent the night alone.
Asher sat very still, with his eyes closed, focusing on how he was going to play this next scene. He had tried to push thoughts of Penelope as far out of his conscious mind as possible, but allowed himself one last small thought of her. He was doing this for her, and for Jean-Claude, and everyone else he had grown to love over the years. What he did over the next few nights could ensure the stability of at least his sphere of influence over the shifter community. Narcissus had grown the numbers of hyenas to well over 400 strong in a matter of less than a year, so she was certainly not a force to be ignored. At least not in that sense.
But, unlike Micah, or even Richard, Narcissus often let her own desires and needs outweigh the good of her pack. For all of Richard’s neuroses, he always took care of his wolves. Even when he was mad with grief over the loss of his humanity, or verdant with jealousy over whose bed Anita was in, he never used his power in a way that could come back to hurt the pack. Narcissus, in her mad jealousy, had endangered not only the hyenas stability, for although many of them were ‘out’, some were still safely closeted, but also the stability of St. Louis itself, and its reputation to other Masters of the City, as well as the leaders of various lycanthrope groups all over the United States. The stories she had planted in the papers only served to make Asher, and therefore Jean-Claude, look weak. There was always someone out there in the night who thought they were bigger and stronger, and when that person came to town it wasn’t just your own people who suffered or who fought. Jean-Claude had made sure of that. Like it or not, St. Louis was as close to a preternatural package deal as you could get.
But that wasn’t the only danger. Before Jean-Claude, the hyenas were as much slaves to Nikoloas, as were the vampires of her kiss and the humans who fed them. Narcissus had not had many good examples to learn to lead from. Between Marcus and Raina, Chimera, and Nikoloas herself, the Oba was so victimized that it was all she knew. Asher was going to change her way of thinking tonight. Jason had always prided himself on teaching the older vampires new and uniquely American phrases, and the one that Asher was planning to teach Narcissus this weekend was “team player.”
They got to the club and Castor parked in the VIP lot, shut off the car and turned in his seat. For tonight, Asher had asked the brothers to only reveal their hyena sides. No need to make a bad situation worse, but the fear that they brought with them would be enough. If one of them had been a female, this whole night would be moot, and Asher would probably be looking at his new Oba. But since that was not the case, this would have to do.
“Are you ready, sir?” Pollux said, pulling Asher from his distant thoughts back into the here and now. Asher had told them that although they were blood-oathed to Jean-Claude and had sworn loyalty to Asher as his hyenas, that they need not call anyone master. One of them, he mused, might possibly become a very important player in this game.
“Oui. Yes. Let’s go. Ixion, please carry the trunk.”
Asher always brought his own toys to a playdate.
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Salle*- (French: "room") A fencing hall or club
Maybach* - www.maybachusa.com/ This is a ridiculously expensive luxury auto that is meant to have a driver. They go for about $300,000, not including the driver! I have actually seen one in my town from time to time. Not much to look at on the outside, but unbelievable on the inside.
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Chapter 32 -Sparring by nicola71
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Thanks to Reka, as always! And to everyone who is enjoying this story once again!
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Blood poured from the gash in his thigh.
“London,” Wicked said calmly, as the wound was already starting to knit, “I will maim you if you don’t start paying attention. I assume you would like to utilize that area of your body later, am I correct?” Wicked leaned casually on his broad sword. “Care to tell me why you’re so distracted I almost sliced your balls off?”
Since their arrival, WickedTruth had struck an easy friendship with London, based at first with their common interest in swordplay and in reliving their past battles, then growing to mutual respect. London was one of only a few of Belle’s line who was chosen not strictly for his beauty but for his aptitude as a soldier. His maker had practical uses for him as well as carnal.
London looked up from where he was sopping up blood from his leg with a towel, “It’s nothing.”
“Try again. I won’t spar with you when you don’t have your head on straight. That’s how heads end up on the floor.”
London ignored him and instead readied himself, saluting.
“Come again, come at me. You will not best me this time.”
Wicked refused to move. “No.”
The sword hit the far wall with such a clang that it brought down an entire rack of rapiers.
“I’m certain that made you feel better,” Wicked was sarcastic while remaining calm and stoic in his stance, allowing London’s small tantrum to pass. “You know, I would say it was impossible, but I would swear you’ve inherited a small part of our temoin’s demeanor.”
“I... I don’t have the words to explain it.” Came London’s frustrated reply. Where was Requiem when he needed him?
“Maybe I do.” Wicked walked over, but stopped far enough away as to not invade London’s personal space. “You’ve hidden in corners for the last several hundred years, I gather. Now there are no more corners left to you. It’s out in the open, or nowhere.” He pointed towards the door, “And she is in the open. Loving her comes with a price, sir knight, your anonymity.”
London’s face must have shown his surprise at this man being able to see what he had so carefully concealed, because Wicked continued.
“And on top of that, you have to share her love. Well guess what, very few of us get exclusivity when it comes to love, my friend. Even those who have what the humans like to call, ‘normal’ relationships must share their hearts with more than one person. Parents, children, friends. And before you protest, sharing your body is natural for you. For us. We are different, in that sense. You don’t live as long as us and not evolve. Well, at least the best of us do, in my opinion. And you are one of the best of us.”
“Have I become that bloody transparent?”
“No, but perhaps I know a little of how you feel. I also know that you’ve been making this gym your home when Penelope is with Asher. You tried to fuck away your frustration before you and she consummated your love, now you’re trying to exercise it away. Why not try talking about it instead, and then letting it go for good?”
“Are you suggesting I see a psychiatrist?”
“No, I’m suggesting you talk to your lover. Tell her how you feel. You can’t change the fact that she is another vampire’s servant. You’re lucky that it’s Asher. Of all the vampires I know, he is one of the most giving with his love,” Wicked held up his hand, “Oh, I know he can be a sour son of a bitch, but give me the name of one vampire over a hundred who isn’t from time to time. He has endured more than many of us; the death of his servant and the woman he loved, the loss of the only identity he ever knew, and his place in our world, and yet he survived. He values love, even if he forgot about it for a few hundred years. If I had a servant myself, I don’t think I would be as flexible.”
“Except with Truth.” London knew that the brothers shared many women between them.
“Except with Truth. But this is not about me. I would never be so stupid as to promise myself to just one woman anyway.” Wicked grinned, and laughed at the thought.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Good. And one more thing,” Wicked walked back to take his stance.
“What is that?”
“Lighten the fuck up. You’re getting laid regularly now, you should be damn near pleasant to be around. Now raise your sword, and watch your cock, because I’m not responsible for any lost appendages.”
London did as he was told.
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After about an hour on the treadmill and thirty more minutes of stretching, Penelope found herself toweling off and sitting at the edge of the mat watching Truth lay Graham out time after time. For all his strength, the werewolf’s timing was pretty bad, and the guys were all ribbing him something awful.
Graham was huffing and puffing, sprawled on the mat. He held his hand up, “give me second, okay?”
“What’s the matter, wolf? A beautiful woman is in the room and you can’t perform? How typical.” Truth folded his arms and winked at Penelope. “I bet she could do better than you, and she is half your size.”
Penelope laughed, but when Truth reached down and grabbed her hand, she protested, “Oh no!”
“Oh yes,” Truth led her to the middle of the mat. “I know you have had training. Ready yourself.”
Truth came at her, and Penelope easily ducked and dodged him. Her lack of height was often an advantage with a much taller opponent, and the vampire was unused to such small prey.
Truth was not about to admit that though, and blamed it on Penelope choosing to avoid confrontation. “Well, see Graham, I did not expect her to do that. Running is always an option if failure is imminent.”
Penelope was ticked. “Who said anything about failure? It’s called self-preservation. Obviously, I am just faster than you are.” She knew this was untrue, but what was true was that she could verbally spar with the best of them. She was also feeling suddenly very brave. This was the first time she was joking around with them, and she found that she enjoyed the camaraderie. Time to take a chance.
She challenged him, “come at me again. This time I won’t move. I’ll even turn my back to you.”
Penelope turned and stood as she would normally. Truth came from behind and wrapped his arms around her as if to abduct her. In an instant her whole body went entirely limp. So limp that there was nothing for him to hold, and since he was expecting a struggle, it caught him off-guard. She was on the floor rolling away and up in a fighting stance in seconds. Graham was cackling on his hands and knees, laughing too hard to get up.
“Basic self defense, Truth. One of the first things I ever learned.” She said with a smile. She turned to Graham, “maybe you should take a refresher course. I read about this place they have here called the YMCA. I think you can take a class.”
It was her turn to grin and wink at Truth. He bowed gracefully.
The door to the salle opened, and Penelope saw London carrying a bloody towel. She blanched, and jogged over to him and whispered because she sensed that he was uncomfortable expressing their relationship around the others.
“Are you alright? Are you...” Her heart was racing.
She didn’t get the rest of her sentence out because he pulled her close and kissed her sweetly, enfolding her in his arms, finally unashamed of his feelings or showing them in front of the other men.
“I’m fine. Just need a shower, then you and I have plans.”
“Plans?”
“Plans.”
He took her hand, and with one look back at Wicked that said ‘thank you’, they walked out of the gym together.
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The club was buzzing with preparations for the night’s entertainments when Asher and his entourage strode in. They were unarmed, as was the policy of the club, but everyone who saw them knew that this company needed no guns or knives to cause damage if that was their intent. The group walked up into the middle of the dance floor and stopped so Asher could assess the situation.
There was not an eye in the room that was not glued to Asher. His ensemble had produced the desired effect. The dominants in the room would all be taking a page from Asher’s book tonight, and the submissives all wished they were his.
Castor and Pollux had allowed Asher to dress them, and so they both looked formidable in brown and black leather pants respectively. Each wore military style boots that matched as well as impossibly tight t-shirts that accentuated every finely worked muscle of their upper bodies. Castor’s shaggy hair was slicked back which provided almost as menacing a look as his brother’s closely cropped locks. Their handsomeness only served to make them appear more deadly. Neither of them seemed ill at ease with the nature of the club, and both were secure enough in their sexuality, whatever that may be, to be unfazed by the attention of the men and women in the room. Even Asher had noted, to himself, that they made a delicious looking pair. But it was Pollux who garnered most of his attention. There was simply something about him Asher could not quite put his finger on.
All of the hyenas he brought with him had let him mark them as his, letting everyone in the room know they were off limits. It was when he took his little drink from Pollux that Asher realized the depth of the hybrid’s power. He had fed from him once before and marked him delicious, but he now knew that the hybrid was shielding almost all of his power at that time. Were he to take a full feed from him with all of Pollux’s shields down, Asher imagined the rush would be overwhelmingly powerful.
Meng Die and Faust brought with them their own special brand of kink. Meng’s nails were her own, and had the same effect as the claws of a shifter. They were painted bright red, matching her lipstick. Her small tight body was made even smaller by the silver studded leather corset. She also sported red latex pants with thigh-high spiked heeled boots. Faust went against the grain in a copper colored silk shirt open to the waist, that matched his eyes, and black leather pants, which were looser than those the others wore. The leather belt he wore doubled as whip, the handle of which hung casually down the line of his fly, bobbing into his thigh suggestively.
Ixion and Ares had standard issue on, black leather and black t-shirts, that their sheer size and girth made intimidating enough. Other than that, they were unadorned, because they themselves were adornment for Asher as they flanked him.
Gerard, one of the hosts came over immediately to greet Asher, and since he was a hyena, greeted him in the old way, exposing the pulsing vein in his neck to his master. Gerard had long straight black hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, and the scruff of three days on his face. He wore black leather pants, a red silk shirt and a black leather vest. His ears were both pierced, as were several other hidden parts of his body. His Spanish lineage gave him the swarthy sexiness of a pirate, as well as the intense dark brown eyes that made him one of Narcissus’ favorite companions. And incidentally, one of Asher’s. Of course it had been months since Asher had been to the club.
Asher, always willing to accept these ancient traditions when given, leaned in and scented him, just brushing his lips over the taught skin that held his powerful blood beneath. It would have been intoxicatingly difficult to resist if Asher had not already fed back at the circus.
“We are very happy to welcome you back, sir. Your usual table is ready and refreshments have been arranged for your men, and the lady.” A quick nod to Meng Die was greeted with what amounted to a snarl. Gerard made a mental note to tread lightly with her. “Narcissus imagined you would want to enjoy tonight’s performance before retiring to private quarters for your meeting.”
Asher shook his head and smiled, motioning for Ixion to put the trunk on the stage.
“There will be a performance tonight, Gerard, but it will be private. Tonight the club is closed. Actually, it’s closed for the weekend entirely. And I am expecting a delivery in about thirty minutes I will need you to take care of.”
Gerard’s eyes widened. It was Friday night and they had several private parties planned for the playrooms as well as the main floor performance. Friday night was VIP night, so anyone who was anyone would be there tonight, spending money on their outrageously overpriced drinks. The weekend cover charge alone was $50 per person.
“But sir, there are several large parties booked...” Gerard was a dedicated switch, but he was a business man too, and couldn’t help but argue. The revenue that would be lost this weekend would take months to recur. He knew that Asher had an interest in the club and was honestly flabbergasted that he would risk losing that much money.
Asher flared with just enough power to remind Gerard of his place, both as submissive to him and as an employee.
“I will not ask twice. Get on the phone. Cancel the reservations. Lock up. Put a note on the door if it makes you feel better. But close.” Asher handed him a piece of paper. “And when you are done, call the first five people on this list and tell them that if they wish, they are invited to a private party hosted by me. They know me, and they know what kind of party it will be. If one declines, go to the next on the list, however, unless they are dead I doubt highly you will encounter a refusal.”
Gerard looked at the list, “Sir, Narcissus has personally banned at least three...”
Asher’s eyes bled to ice blue fire as his power hit Gerard squarely this time, knocking him to his ass. The vampire knelt on one knee, grabbing the hyena by the collar and bringing his face within a centimeter of his own.
“Call. Them. Now.”
“Yes, sir” Gerard gasped. He found himself wishing his name was on that list. Wishing it more than he ever wished for anything before.
“And Gerard,” Asher let him fall to the ground as he walked towards the stage with his signature seductive gait.
“Yes, sir?”
“You may add your name to that list,” he turned and looked back casually, “ if you wish.”
Quivering with expectation, Gerard pulled himself up, and went to do his master’s bidding.
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Chapter 33- Asher's Gifts by nicola71
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Thanks and *hugs* to Reka and Subbie for helping to whip these next chapters into wonderful shape! Thank you to all the readers and reviewers!
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Penelope sat at her antique dressing table nervously fiddling with her perfume bottles. The table had a large square mirror edged in elaborately carved dark wood. The surface of the table itself was a rare golden marble, the chair cushioned with dark blue velvet. It was a new addition to her bedroom furniture, and didn’t exactly match the rest of the room, but it was a gift from Asher, so it complemented the other pieces. He loved to lie in her bed as she brushed her hair, watching her reflection in the mirror. Sometimes Penelope wondered just how often he thought of Juli while he watched, but she was at peace with that now. Julianna was always going to be a presence, but not a negative one. A part of Asher would always belong to her because she was the first woman he had ever truly loved. Penelope would never wish those feelings away from him.
She thought about Asher for a few moments, wondering how things were going with Narcissus. She still couldn’t feel him, but she remained calm and unworried. After centuries of feeling nothing from a master, she had grown very patient. If Asher needed her, or needed to draw power, he would. At least she hoped he would. She was feeling very powerful following her afternoon in the gym, and although she had endured a few rocky nights, she didn’t want Asher sparing her if he needed the boost. Even a vampire could get tired if he was expending a lot of energy. And that energy didn’t always have to be physical. She wondered if she should have pressed him for more details about his plans, but she resigned herself to the fact that he didn’t want to share, at least not yet, and she planned on respecting that. Regardless, she was going to be the good little servant and make sure that her energy was up, just in case.
Even if she had not been so conscientious, she had someone looking out for her who would not be denied. London had watched as she ate a protein bar, and a bowl full of blueberries before going back to her room to get ready for their date. He was so very attentive to her since they left the gym, and she had no idea how an hour or so fencing with Wicked had changed his attitude about publicly displaying his affection for her. Whatever it was, she felt she owed Wicked a thank you. Truth as well.
As she ran out her confusion on the treadmill, she also replayed the incident with Graham in her picture perfect memory and realized exactly how close London had been to truly losing his temper. He was old and powerful, and knew how to handle himself in a fight, but she shuddered thinking about actually having to watch him fend off Graham. When he emerged from the salle, bleeding, she felt as if she had been stabbed herself, and his wound was already healed. If just a bloody towel could move her to panic, she couldn’t imagine what would happen if he were truly hurt. At least with Asher she would feel it and be able to help him, even from afar. She pushed the thought from her mind, as she continued to get ready. Tonight was about relaxation and fun.
And hopefully some crazy sex! The sudden image of London groaning and sweating on top of her momentarily stole her breath.
Her sex drive was as high as ever tonight, so high she considered relieving some of that tension before seeing London. She was comfortable touching herself, although it was not something she did often. Master Socrates had been able to suppress the sex drive of his servants as much as Asher seemed capable of amping it up. She let her fingers softly caress her skin, between her breasts and down the line of her body and she allowed the pale blue brocade robe to fall back off her shoulders. Instead of continuing downward though, she reached for a large glass jar and carefully opened it, allowing the scent to fill the air. Her scent. The scent that Lucien had made for her. After he taught her how to recreate it, she was able to make all sorts of different toiletries. This was a thick body butter that she often used to soften her elbows and knees. Tonight she rubbed a small amount on her nipples, which were already hard and tender.
What the hell is going on?! She thought, staring at her reflection.
Penelope was always excited to be with London and Asher, but tonight she felt more than her usual want or need. What she felt was unnatural, almost overwhelming.
Asher? What are you doing to me?
It occurred to her that she was indeed extra turned on tonight, and that it was quite possible that she was feeling not only her own rising desire, but that of her master as well. Of course, she had no way to ask him.
Is he channeling it away from himself and into me? Oh, my...
Her own desire was still raw and new, having so recently rediscovered all the joy her flesh could give and receive, but this was the first time she was feeling something this strong. She knew, of course, that when a master vampire was involved in a sensitive situation, he or she could channel their baser feelings to a servant. If Asher wanted to be in full control, without desire getting in the way, he may be doing just that. If this was only the beginning...then London was in for one hell of a night.
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“Everything is as I directed?” London took the picnic basket that was held out to him.
“Yes, sir!” Jason playfully saluted. Lately he was running so many errands for these “vampires in love” that he was considering starting a side business. Jean-Claude would be so proud. His master’s entrepreneurial spirit was rubbing off on him.
Not that he minded. Doing London’s bidding tonight got him out of being groped at Guilty Pleasures, which normally he would not have minded, but tonight was bachelorette night. All the June brides were going to be out in droves, and although the thought surprised him, he was getting a little tired of being a pin cushion for horny women lamenting the fact that they were going to have to sleep with the same lame-o guy for the next fifty years. The thing that bothered him most, the thing he didn’t want anyone to know, was that despite his college degree he felt he really wasn’t qualified to be anything more than a nice body with a pretty face.
Jason decided not to think about that right now, and instead focused on the vampire interrogating him.
“You have the oil lamps in place?”
“Yes.”
“And the cushions?”
“Yes.”
“And the music?”
“Yes.”
“And...”
“ Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“You know, wolf, if you are trying to be funny...”
“Not trying. Am funny. And so are you. Relax. It’s perfect.”
London managed a smile. Jason irritated him sometimes, and his familiarity with Penelope seemed to bother him more than it did Asher, but he knew the young man had a good heart. And despite his ill treatment of him, Jason was being a friend.
“I apologize, Jason,” London then did something that was very uncharacteristic and put his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, “I know it will be perfect. And without you to help me today, it would not have been possible. I know...I know I can be hard to deal with.”
Jason’s wide-eyed stare spoke volumes to London. It was time to follow Wicked’s advice, and remove himself from the corners of his surroundings. For lack of a better term, it was time to start living in the light.
“Gee, London, no problem, really, I’m happy to do it.”
At just that moment they heard a major ruckus coming from Jean-Claude’s living room. He and Anita were having a huge row.
“Do you know what that is about?” London motioned to the door.
Jason shrugged, “I’ve been trying to keep out of their fights lately,” then he smirked, “Bu-u-u-ut, I know she came by about an hour ago bitching a blue streak about Asher going to negotiate without her, and without the consultation of the Coalition. Jean-Claude believes this is Asher’s game to play, not the Coalition's. Anita disagrees.”
London sighed. He and Anita had a good relationship, but what she didn’t understand about men and vampires, especially old ones, could fill volumes.
“I suggest we, what do you say? Beat feet? Before she comes flying out of there in a rage. My plans do not include being fodder for her temper tonight.”
Jason nodded. “Are you picking Penny up at her room?”
“Don’t all gentlemen?” London smiled widely, something that up to this moment had been reserved for his lady, and winked at Jason.
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Penelope was instructed to dress comfortably and casually, her favorite style. The jeans she had on were soft and well worn, low on her waist and snug though the hips and thighs. As she admired her backside in the mirror, Penelope liked what she saw. She had put on a few pounds in the last few months, but she was convinced it was all muscle. Either way, she was happy with the way her butt looked in the jeans. Both Asher and London had many times told her how much they enjoyed that particular part of her body.
She chose a soft white long sleeved tee with a lilac short sleeved one over top. She liked the look of the two tees together. She had on a pair of white tennis shoes that Jason had given her. He told her she reminded him of the preppy cheerleaders he went to college with. Penelope wasn’t quite sure this was a compliment, but loved the sneakers anyway. Before she got to St. Louis, she thought sneakers were only functional in the gym. That they could be fashion accessories was totally new to her. When she mentioned this to Asher, he mumbled something about having a talk with Jason about that.
Her hair hung around her shoulders in soft curls she had painstakingly put in using an old set of hot curlers. She finished her look with a demure set of pearl earrings, and her Grandmother’s ring, of course. She would not be taking that off again anytime soon.
She had managed to get her desire under control after about 15 minutes of meditation, but she was still barely holding on. Her heart and her nethers jumped every time she heard someone walk by the door. When the soft knock came, she had to hold onto the bedpost to keep her balance.
She closed her eyes, gathered herself, and opened the door.
It was as if Deja Vu hit her square in the chest.
London stood in her doorway, much as he did that night months ago when she first realized he loved her. Still dressed in black, but smiling this time and holding a huge picnic basket.
The war she was waging with her desire took a decided turn against her, and without waiting for him to speak, she slid her arms around him, stood on tip toes and started kissing his neck; the only part she could reach when she wasn’t in heels and he wasn’t bending over her a bit. She pressed her body into his as much as she could, but no matter how hard she leaned, it wasn't enough.
It didn’t take long for his lips to find hers, and he took his time kissing her hello. He was fed, so his own desire jumped at being so surprised by her aggression.
Eventually it was he who pulled back.
“You are awfully keen tonight, milady,” his eyes had begun to bleed to black, but he fought back hard. He wanted her to actually see her surprise before they got naked.
“I know!” she blushed, “I think Asher is channeling some of his, maybe all of his, sex drive into me tonight. I just thought I should warn you.” She couldn’t help the huge grin that graced her face. All she was thinking of was running her hands and tongue all over his muscled body and having him respond in kind.
“I see,” London smiled as well, remembering just how ardent Asher could be. He figured something like this might happen. Asher was going somewhere tonight that normally would excite him very much. However, he needed to have his wits about him, therefore it was wise if he indeed was making Penelope handle his physical needs. The knight wondered, for a split second, if he would be up to the task.
Better see who’s around for a donation later.
He had fed from Nathaniel earlier, which was a great privilege, but he had no regular donor, and feeding from Penny more than once was out of the question. He might have to get creative, depending on how the night progressed.
Penelope stepped back, “I definitely want my surprise! So I will be a good girl, I promise!” She crossed her heart and pointed to the basket, “Is that for me? Do you want to come in?”
London stepped into the hallway, “Actually, we are going out.”
“Out!” If anything could make her almost as happy as a naked London, it was the prospect of fresh air.
He took her hand, “Come on,” he smiled, “I have a few surprises before we figure out just how much sex we can have in one night!” He allowed a small chuckle. After all, I am of Belle Morte’s line, he reminded himself. His confidence suddenly soared.
Penelope steeled herself against her rising desire, closed her door and went where her knight would lead her.
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Asher sat very still in what amounted to a throne set in the center of the stage. His back was straight, his legs hip width apart with his hands resting gently on his thighs. Eyes closed.
Gerard had ushered everyone who was unnecessary out of the club, and with his calling duties done, he now knelt at Asher’s feet, waiting on his master’s pleasure. His clothes were gone and his muscular body was now naked save for a few leather straps that had been fastened around his biceps and thighs, making them appear larger than they were. His cock and balls were nicely tied together with twine, and the collar and cuffs he sported had rings just waiting to be attached to chains. His heart paced as he waited.
Five submissives were getting ready in the dressing rooms. Meng Die and Faust were doing the honors there, while Castor and Pollux had taken up residence at a table directly in front of the stage. Ixion and Ares stood solidly behind Asher, like two seraphim in black, flanking their Archangel as he rested, waiting for his night to begin.
On one side of the stage there had been erected what looked like a large glass box. Big enough to hold several people, with one lone black chair inside.
Chains hung from the rafters, and a host of bondage equipment decorated the stage. Asher’s trunk was open on a large wooden table, his various toys on display.
Everything was ready.
Asher’s mind was as empty as he could make it. This weekend was not about his pleasure, although he was certain he would reward himself at some point. His ample desires had threatened to overwhelm him when he got into the club and saw what he was missing for the last few months. The sparkle in Gerard’s eyes alone was enough to remind him how much he enjoyed this part of his sexuality.
But he needed control more than pleasure at the moment, so he forced all that need down the metaphysical line he shared with Penelope.
She should be able to handle it, he thought to himself.
London will be able to handle her, I am sure, he added to reassure himself.
Then something occurred to him that he had not thought of before.
Jean-Claude.
He opened his mind.
Yes, Asher?
You sound irritated. What has happened?
Nothing. Anita. It’s over for now, but you will be getting an earful when next you see ma petite. As for me, an earful is all I will be getting this evening. But nevermind that now, how is it going?
It’s not yet. I just wondered if you’ve fed tonight?
Jason was here, Oui.
Not blood.
No. I may go to the club.
No need. You still often feed from a distance, no?
Oui. Unless I am with you or Anita. Jean-Claude thought how distance feeding his ardeur was like smelling a banquet and convincing yourself full.
Then tonight, mon amour, I have provided an incomparable feast for you. Enjoy...
Quoi?
I have given Penny my desire, at least for tonight. I imagine London will be searching for a blood donor at some point. Perhaps several. If you don’t stray too far, you will feed well tonight. Accept this gift with my compliments.
And you do not think Penelope will mind this...gift?
You’ve fed from her before...
A long time ago, and directly.
Well tonight you will feed indirectly. Her love and her magic protect her from addiction. At one time it was her love for Jean-Claude, Asher admitted to himself.
And London?
Love guards him as well. Besides, he grows in power from the feedings. He has not been with Anita in some time. This will benefit him as well.
Perhaps I should ask them.
As you wish. I must go. J’taime!
J’taime, mon chardonerette, J’taime! And...merci.
Asher’s eyes opened with a start. If all went well, everyone would greet the dawn well sated and happy. And of course he knew Jean-Claude would behave himself, despite the lingering desire Asher knew he had for Penelope. The two former lovers thought they were shielding their memories, but he had been privy to more than a few. It was only fair, he thought. But he was still not of the mind that Jean-Claude wanted to pursue anything more than the flirtation with the past he was already chasing. The Master of the City knew that Anita would have his balls in a sling if he did anything more.
At least that’s what Asher was counting on.