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maderrA few so far, and I will keep adding them here until LJ yells at me for length ^___^
Taunting the Kitty
It was always sort of surreal to watch Dixie at work.
The first impression he’d had of Dixie was a long, slow and sexy drawl lined with more than a little annoyance that he had a bleeding Yank on his leather sofa. A thief, to boot.
Dixie looked damned good, utterly perfect in fact, in torn, faded, grease-stained jeans and a dark blue tank top that did wicked things to his eyes. And those biceps. Yum.
The computers though – those were the surreal part. Dixie looked as though he should be holding a wrench or a hammer or something else associated with True Masculinity. Instead he sat with his legs propped on a dark red foot stool, just sticking out past an expensive antique-looking desk Byron had probably gotten from Obnoxious Rich Men Quarterly, with four flat screen monitors and a bunch of other humming, buzzing things that were to Greg mysterious and strange. All he cared about was that he was currently half-naked and still wet from his shower and Dixie was on the computer.
Not fair.
“You’re using that girly crap again, Yankee,” Dixie suddenly drawled. “I can smell those damned flowers from here.”
Until he’d met Dixie, Greg had never known southern drawls were such a damn turn on for him. Something about three syllables becoming six in that low, lazy voice did it for him.
“Sunflowers are not girly,” Greg said, knowing full well they were. “Byron keeps snitching the mint shampoo and I’m not using that weird industrial strength shampoo of yours.”
Dixie snorted but said nothing, the lenses of the glasses he tended to wear when on his computers flashing and reflecting whatever was on his screens.
Greg frowned. Half-naked. Wet. Why the hell were the computers still winning? He was sorely close to taking drastic measures or leaving Dixie to rot. Except leaving Dixie to rot meant he had to rot, which was not cool. “Are you going to stay there all night?” he finally asked.
A taunting smirk shaped Dixie’s mouth, though he still did not look up from the computers. “I’m trying to see if I can get the kitty to pounce.”
“Maybe kitty will find somewhere else to be.”
Dixie finally looked up at him. “And here I was going to offer to lick all that excess water away.” He shrugged and looked back at his screen. “Have it your way, Yank.”
Greg rolled his eyes, then gave in and pounced.
Not for Sale, but Available
“Peppermint!” Chason glared.
“Cinnamon!” Kevin glared right back.
“Mint!”
“Cinnamon!”
“Uh…why not get both?”
The twins ignored him, far more interested in their staring contest.
Shen rolled his eyes, sorely wishing that Sherlock or Clarence were around. No fair leaving him to deal with The Twins by himself on his first day. He’d heard about them…maybe Sherlock was giving him a baptism by fire or something.
Heaving a sigh, Shen raised his voice in a second try. “Pardon me, gentlemen!”
The Twins snorted, Kevin speaking as he turned, finally breaking gazes with his brother. “We’re not…” he blinked. Stared.
Shen fidgeted.
“Gentlemen,” Chason continued, staring just as hard. “We’re not gentlemen.”
“My mistake?” Shen asked, wondering if the fact he thought they were nuts showed in his face and voice.
From the way they grinned, it obviously did.
“Which would you say is better?” Kevin asked, suddenly standing way way closer than Shen rather thought he should be and smelling like peppermint and oh Chason smelled like cinnamon and had he missed something? “Mint or cinnamon?”
“Um—“ Shen tried to put words together but there was a distinct violation of personal space and whoa those were hands and that definitely qualified as inappropriate touching of the store clerk and he did not just squeak.
“We can never decide either,” Chason said in a tone of voice that was not what Shen would describe as casual or polite or anything except inappropriate.
And maybe kinda hot.
Kevin got even closer, his hand tangling with Chason’s while they did that whole inappropriate thing and Shen rather thought he should be protesting or screaming or—there he went notsqueaking again.
“Want to come to our place and help us debate?”
At that Shen glowered. “I’m working.” And he wasn’t a slut. Though for twins, and he kinda suspected maybe that’s what was going on here…tempting.
“We mean after work. We’ll make dinner and stuff. So what do you say?”
“Are you always this forward?”
“Yes,” the Twins said together.
Shen finally managed to break free of their seriously inappropriate touching. “Dinner. Okay. Are you going to buy something?”
Chason peered at him. “What were you eating?”
“Chocolate and peanut butter bursts.”
“We’ll take those. And the peppermint bark. And the cinnamon drops.” They grinned. “And the clerk.”
“Not for sale,” Shen muttered, but when they handed over their address and phone number along with the cash, he tucked it into his pocket and waited impatiently for it to be five o’clock.
And hoped that he wouldn’t have to tell Sherlock or Clarence how he’d gotten the twins to stop causing trouble.
Stories Worth Hearing
“I’m not going down there at night. No way, that’s where the ghost lives.”
Jeremiah snorted. He hated green knights. “There is no ghost down there. What ghost?” Why did this story insist on cropping up every time he had new soldiers to train? He’d seen ghosts. There were none in the castle.
“The ghost of that black knight…they say he died there of a wound inflicted by his lover who betrayed him.”
Jeremiah blinked. Blinked again. “Nonsense. The Black Knight died in his room of a disease he caught on the Black Mountain, his lover died of the same disease two days later because he’d refused to leave the Black Knight’s side the entire time.”
The soldiers frowned at him, not believing a word of it. “How would you know that?”
Jeremiah flushed the slightest bit as he realized the answer to that, but could not help a fond smile. “My lover copied that entire history not too long ago, and he read it aloud while he worked.”
“Oooh,” the soldiers chorused. “Of course. The Head Librarian. Sorry, Captain.”
“Get what you were sent for and then get back to the barracks,” Jeremiah replied, and turned away as they saluted and scrambled to obey.
Jeremiah shook his head at himself, wondering when he’d started actually listening to Ashley’s stories…and when he’d begun to look forward to them.
He turned a corner and nearly stumbled into the object of his thoughts, catching his lover around the waist and saving the book Ashley nearly dropped in his surprise.
“There you are,” Ashley said. “I thought maybe another crisis had arisen.”
“No, just some stray greens,” Jeremiah replied, eyes going to Ashley’s mouth, smiling shyly, hesitantly…invitingly. He accepted the invitation and kissed his lover soundly, wondering how he’d ever endured their being enemies. “What is this?” he asked when they finally broke apart, dragging his eye away from wet, kiss-swollen lips with an effort.
Ashley smiled. “A new book I’m borrowing from a friend who lives near the Black Mountains. He’s allowing me to copy it – the legend of their Ogre, as infamous as our Laughing Forest.”
“So long as there are no ghosts,” Jeremiah said with a grimace.
“No,” Ashley said with a laugh. “Would you like to hear it?”
Jeremiah nodded. He knew when he’d started listening to Ashley’s stories – the very moment he’d realized he’d do or give anything to see that happy expression on the solemn librarian’s face. “Just don’t tell the prince.”
Well-favored
Torian yawned as he reached his room, exhausted beyond belief by the extensive field training beaten into him over the past week. The only cheering thought in the whole mess was that someday he’d get to the do the same to recruits of his own.
He stopped suddenly as a servant intercepted him. “Master Torian,” the woman said, bobbing a curtsy.
Curtsy? To him? Since when? A knight was a knight, even if he did hold the Captain’s favor…
Thinking of favors reminded him that he held someone else’s favor now, and that favor was worth a million Captains. He smiled softly, thinking of Prince Zayn. A pity it was so late, his Highness was probably busy with some meal or quite possibly asleep. Ah, well. Torian would see him on the morrow.
“His Highness says that if you are not too tired, he would like very much to see you in his rooms – immediately.”
Torian nodded and sent the maid off, but inside he was panicking slightly. Zayn wanted to see him? Now? He was filthy, it was late. It was such a pleasant, tempting thought, though…
They’d barely had a day together before Zayn had been all but accosted by his family and Torian had been dragged off for field training…
He squelched the niggling fear that said perhaps he wasn’t considered good enough for Zayn. It didn’t matter. Zayn, so quiet and shy and different from his siblings, had said Torian had his favor.
Wishing he could at least get a bath first, but not wanting to delay, Torian turned and quickly made his way through the servants’ halls to Zayn’s door. He knocked, striving for the calm he used in a fight.
The door flew open and Torian was treated to the sight of a casually dressed, adorably flustered prince whose eyes lit up at seeing him. He smiled, feeling his exhaustion fall away. “Highness, you desired to see me?”
“Zayn,” the prince corrected. “Yes…unless you’re too tired, I didn’t mean to—“
Torian cut him off with a kiss, unable to resist that pretty mouth, and gently pushed the prince back until they were in the room and he could shut the door.
The smell of beeswax and soap, a crackling fire and hot food, washed over him, but none of those things were nearly so fine as Zayn’s soft, warm mouth, the way he tasted faintly of honey, the fingers that landed so hesitantly on his shoulders. “Zayn,” he said at last. “I worried another would claim your favor in my absence.”
“No,” Zayn said softly, and Torian felt nothing but deep satisfaction and a warming contentment that he was the reason that dazed, happy look was on that handsome face. “I had a bath drawn…food…”
“You’re going to spoil me rotten, I can see that,” Torian said with a grin, and dragged Zayn close for another kiss, holding him tight, wondering at his chances of convincing Zayn to share the bath with him.
Never Shall We Part
“You still have thousands of forests to go,” Briar said softly, the words barely audible. Only long practice with Briar let him hear the words.
Reynard responded automatically, far more interested in enjoying the sheer beauty of his lover, the way he glowed when bathed in moonlight. “Thousands? I shouldn’t think I had more than a few hundred left to explore.”
“Confound it, Reynard!” Briar snapped, turning sharply around on the balcony, smacking him hard on the chest. “You should not be here!”
“Why not?” Reynard asked, rubbing his chest, wincing for show.
“Because you are a reckless, foolish, arrogant brigand and this entire mess has nothing to do with you,” Briar snarled.
Reynard would have been annoyed, but everything from the set of his shoulders to the shadows in his eyes to the way Briar hunched as if cold screamed the prince was feeling scared, anxious, and guilty. Ignoring the half-hearted protests Briar immediately launched into, Reynard held his prince tight and did not let him go. “This was always my favorite forest. I could spend eternity in it, so long as you’re with me.”
“It’s not funny,” Briar said tightly. “Casting the spell will kill me.”
“Kill us,” Reynard replied and urged Briar’s head up to kiss him softly. “With my traces of magic, the spell will be much stronger. Then we really will be the ghosts of the Laughing Forest!”
“Idiot,” Briar said softly. “Reckless, foolish, arrogant, idiotic brigand.”
Reynard grinned. “But yours, my love, and that is all that ever mattered to me.”
Briar rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he said again, but when Reynard leaned down to kiss him again, he met the fervor and passion of it and returned it full measure.
A Birthday Present
Elton shivered as fingers finally unknotted the silk wrapped around his eyes.
He’d been blind for hours, not allowed to see a single thing. It had been driving him insane and the twins knew it. Every time he’d started to relax, they did something to put him on edge all over again.
Now, at last, they’d stopped moving, had disembarked…the air smelled sweet…absent of people.
“Pretty,” he breathed as the silk fell away, showing him a room the equal of those on Bangkok, but done in pale woods, crystal, soft pastels, and more flowers than he had names to put to them. Beyond the glass that formed half the walls of the massive chamber were more flowers scattered over endless stretches of green, a deep blue sky. “Where are we?”
“Vrill,” Baxter replied. “They tend to respect privacy…and have a great deal of respect for us.”
Elton smiled faintly, wondering if that was because of the popular saying that the Vrill really respected only two things – plants and beauty. Not true, of course, but amusing all the same. “So why did you bring me all the way to Vrill? I know your schedule was completely booked…more so than usual…” Which was disappointing, because he’d hoped…but he knew the life they led. Had to lead.
The twins shared a mischievous look.
“What are you up to?”
“Well…” Baxter said. “Your birthday is coming up soon…” He pet Elton, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
Lucid nuzzled him, wrapping his arms around Elton and Baxter. “We thought we’d celebrate…”
Elton frowned. “My birthday isn’t until next week.”
“Yes,” Baxter said, and the brothers both stepped away to stand in front of him beaming. “We have from now until three days after your birthday completely free, to spend here, and only our father, Kavalerov, and one or two Vrill know where we are and can contact us.”
That was…ten days. Ten whole days… No one but he and his jewels. Elton laughed in delight and threw himself into the twins’ waiting arms, who wasted no time in demonstrating what they intended to spend most of their time doing in those ten days.
The Fortress of the Duke of Torla
Beraht stared over the battlements of his fortress, feeling almost dizzy that he was a Duke and that this place and the surrounding land for as far as the eye could see, was his. He was a peer of the realm and owned everything he could see. Was responsible for it, for the people who lived there.
Dizzying.
The fortress had been built to fend off the long-gone barbarians who had once plagued the coast. No longer necessary, it had been altered into a much more comfortable, accommodating home.
Much of the original fortress remained, however, including the battlements. Set against the sea, his new home had a rough edge, but not wholly unpleasant.
Movement caught his eye and he turned to see Dieter walking toward him, spring cloak billowing in the brisk wind. “Does the fortress meet your barbaric standards?”
Dieter grinned in his wolfish way. “No. Too much silk and satin about the place. Taking this fortress would be far too easy.”
Beraht rolled his eyes. “As no one but you would dare to do such a thing, beyond men long dead, I do not particularly care. Silk and satin are far more comfortable than stone and scratchy wool.”
“Soft Salharan,” Dieter said, drawing closer, nearly looming.
More dizzying than being lord of all he saw was that look in Dieter’s eyes. A fierce hunger that Beraht knew was his to sate. Heady, that knowledge, even as it was still so new and strange.
The rough stones of the battlements dug into his back through his light linen jacket as Dieter pressed him into them, and he kicked the bastard hard to make him ease up even as he moaned into a hard, bruising kiss.
Instead, Dieter only pressed harder, shoving a leg between his thighs, fingers digging into muscles, knowing already where and how to press, and Beraht knew he’d have bruises to match those fingers when they were finished.
“You’re leaving yourself vulnerable to attack, behaving like this out in the open,” he said when Dieter finally let him go.
Dieter smirked. “From what? Illussor with sticks? They have no weapons that can overcome the battlements.”
“I thought you said this fortress was easy to take.”
Another infuriating smirk. “Yes, quite. All I need do is conquer its lord – quite easy indeed, wouldn’t you say, Beraht?”
Beraht kicked him again, pulling at the hair in which one of his hands was still buried, but his scathing retort was lost when Dieter kissed him again.
Visiting Friends
“AAAAHHHH, Goblin! Goblin! Run! Run!”
Thorley pinched the bridge of his nose and repressed the urge to run after the brats and pitch them in the creek. That would just encourage them. “Please can I kill them?”
Geoffrey laughed. “Now, now. You know they adore you.” He laughed as the two young boys in the yard continued to run around screaming – though it was more laughter and cheering than actual screaming.
“Heath! Hadley! Knock that off right now!” Giles rolled his eyes and admonished his brothers one more time to quit. “You’ve got so much energy, go finish hauling in all the firewood I chopped this morning – and after that you can clean the fish Kenzie just caught.”
“Yes, Guy!” the twins cried, bolting off with a last wave to Thorley and Geoffrey, knowing better than to cross their brother when he gave orders.
Giles came from the house, shaking his head. “I’m sorry Thorley, Geoffrey. I keep telling them it’s not amusing.”
“It’s amusing,” Geoffrey said, snickering at his lover. “Thorley just isn’t allowed to think so.”
Laughing, Giles motioned them toward the cabin. “I’m glad you could come; I hope your village will survive without you for a few days.”
“It will,” Geoffrey said.
Giles motioned for them to sit once they were inside. The furniture was all old, but sound and well cared for, little bits of color in a quilt, a vase of flowers, a rag rug, making it homey and inviting. “I’m going to check on dinner out back and find where Kenzie went off to. Make yourselves at home.” He vanished, leaving the two alone.
“I told you everything would be fine,” Geoffrey said, reaching up to brush back a loose strand of Thorley’s hair, tug lightly on one of his myriad earrings.
Thorley muttered beneath his breath and leaned down to steal a kiss. Geoffrey laughed softly as they broke apart. “You could just admit it’s fun going to visit friends…having friends to visit.”
Making a face, the goblin moved to the table and sat. “Maybe,” he grumbled. “I am happy neither of us can bear children.”
Geoffrey threw his head back and laughed, and was still laughing hard when Kenzie and Giles returned.
The Master Duelist
Dagger grunted as he blocked an upward slash, cutting hard to the right and throwing his opponent off by countering with his main gauche rather than his sword, then shifted abruptly from defense to offense, laughing in sheer delight at the pallor that overtook the man’s face.
Bastard. That would teach him to think he had the right to insult Katan in his hearing. Stupid, spoiled nobles. As if he had any right to criticize anyone when he spent his days doing nothing but dueling weaker opponents and heaping abuse upon all who crossed his path.
The man had paled a bit when Dagger had finally lost all patience and challenged him – and that slight show of fright was now turning to full-fledged panic.
With a triumphant shout Dagger disarmed the man and sent him crashing to the ground, and pressed the tip of his blade to the bastard’s throat. “Do you yield?”
“Yes,” the man snarled, but the quaver to his voice took the bite from it.
“Do not insult my Prince where I might learn of it again,” Dagger said, then pulled back and sheathed his blades. He turned – and stopped short to see Katan. “You’re supposed to be in a meeting.”
Katan flashed a grin. “It ended early. I caught wind of a duel…” His eyes flashed, grew hot. “If you’re not too tired, perhaps you’ll duel with me next?”
“Always that is my greatest pleasure, Highness.”
Katan held out a hand and Dagger immediately took it, allowing the prince to lead him from the dueling square and into the palace in which they were currently guests. “You need not fight on my behalf, Dagger,” Katan said quietly.
“Yes, I do,” Dagger said. “Though I truly prefer our duels.”
“Yes,” Katan replied, and stopped long enough to kiss him breathless before leading the way to where they could fence in private.
Heath & Hadley
Heath wiped his bruised eye and sniffed, telling himself it was because his nose was stuffy.
Beside him Hadley just glowered at the grass, absently rubbing his own black and blue cheek.
Far behind them they could already hear the cheer returning to the rest of the schoolhouse as the other kids returned to playing.
“We don’t need them,” Hadley said in his stubborn way. Hadley was always tough, no matter what.
Heath envied it, but he knew Hadley envied things about him. They’d fought about it three times before they’d decided it didn’t matter because they were twins and so shared everything sort of. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We have Guy and Kenzie. They’re all just stupid.”
“Stupid Jack shouldn’t have started it,” Hadley said, angrily kicking a rock. “Just because his family is suddenly all rich and stuff…”
Heath nodded, but he didn’t voice an agreement. He knew how much Hadley had sort of liked Jack. How much they both had. Jack had been one of the few to like them and not mind that most of the Stupid Adults didn’t like Guy, and were only nice now because Kenzie was the best healer to ever live.
Now Jack was a jerk like all the rest. Heath sniffed again, remembering the fight, how Jack had punched him. How Jack had sided with the other kids instead of with them.
“What are we going to tell Guy and Kenzie?” he finally asked.
“We got into a fight over who has to chop firewood tonight. You’re always skipping out.” Hadley smiled weakly.
Heath smiled back. “You always skip out of doing dishes.” He reached out and snagged Hadley’s hand, holding it tight for a few seconds before finally letting go. “Race you home!”
Thunderstruck
Sable returned to his seat once he was alone again in his office, turning to look out over his city – his kingdom.
Not seeing a single bit of it.
Only a little while ago he’d been in rather a foul mood, feeling the pins and needles that told him his time on earth was growing short. Clawing with the need to do something, anything, to not return to hell.
None of that seemed to matter anymore.
Not since his beautiful half-ghost had walked through the door. For surely that’s what Christian must be…Sable could probably find the spell or spells which had done it.
That mix of energies was heady, drugging. The only thing better would be to see those energies drenched in his own. Yes. He wanted that more than his next breath. To see that strange combination of sun gold and pitch black blended with his own silver-gray energies. To know that everyone would see Christian belonged to him.
Sable laughed softly at himself. Hundreds of years of freedom gloriously enjoyed after his miserable captivity, too many nights dreading the time when he’d be confined to a territory and his freedom would be lost in binding himself to a consort…
And people thought demons impossible to defeat.
He looked out over the city and wondered how long he would have to wait until he could claim what was his.
Sleepy Spook Detective
Chris twitched, shaking whatever was crawling across his neck loose. Stupid bugs. He knew that dumb realtor bitch had lied about the cleanliness. He’d have to buy…whatever got rid of bugs.
Tired. He wanted to go back to sleep.
Something touched him again and Chris snarled low, forcing himself to sit up.
Blearily he blinked around his dark, dingy office, feeling a pang that it was still so ramshackle.
Yawning, he reached up to rub the back of his next, wondering what had been crawling on him, finding nothing but not surprised.
He should…do something….but with another yawn he laid his head back down. Going up to his bed was too much like work and anyway the phone might ring and he could sorely use the work…
Growling as something again touched his neck, Chris snapped up and whipped around –
“What in the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.
Sable smirked. “You did not come to dinner, beloved. I worried.”
“Dinner?” Chris blinked and turned bleary eyes to the clock across the room. “Fuck. It’s that late?” He groaned and let his head drop back down to the desk.
“You should go to bed, beloved.”
“I’m not your beloved,” Chris groused, forcing himself to sit up, then stand up. “I’m sorry about dinner.” He was. Even if he knew the demon was just going to get bored with him soon…he’d really liked their last two…dates, the word was dates. He rubbed his eyes, his forehead, then leaned against Sable’s chest, dozing lightly.
Wait a second. When the hell did he get close enough to Sable to lean against him? Why was he leaning against Sable? Chris forced his brain to function and looked up, glaring at the I’m Innocent And Would Never Do Anything Wrong look on Sable’s face.
“You should rest, beautiful.”
“I’m fine,” Chris growled, struggling to get away from the demon and failing miserably. “Work to do.” Even if the previous night had been exhausting, and he’d only gotten two hours of sleep, and never wanted to see another vampire as long as he lived.
“Since you missed our date,” Sable said with the faintest of smirks, “you should do what I ask.”
“Not fair,” Chris said, wishing he had the energy to smack him.
“Please?” Sable said.
Chris glowered. “You’re cheating.”
Sable smiled. “You should rest.”
“Fine,” Chris snapped. “Though it seems to me I was doing that just fine until you showed up!”
“Because you missed our date.”
Chris fell silent and glared.
Laughing softly, Sable held him tight and the office vanished.
Chris glared harder. “I didn’t say I was sleeping in your room!”
“You didn’t specify,” Sable said smugly. “Anyway, you’re mine so it’s our room now.”
Chris really really wanted to argue that point, but he was damned tired and the sheets and blankets felt soft and warm though he didn’t remember saying he was going to sleep naked and was that Sable nex…
Master
Cerant felt very much as though he were doing something he ought not as Neikirk collapsed on top of him, still shivering with the aftershocks of release, sticky with sweat and the evidence of their pleasure, breaths hot against his skin.
He nudged Neikirk’s head up from his shoulder to steal a warm, slow kiss, tasting a bit of himself mingled with the salty-sweet flavor of his lover.
Neikirk was his lover. He would never grow tired of thinking that.
He wiped damps strands of hair from Neikirk’s face and kissed him again.
Fingers flexed on his skin, that slender body shifting against his own. “Master…you have a meeting soon…”
Cerant shook his head. “You should not call me that here, my dear.”
Neikirk blinked slowly, then leaned in close and kissed him, so very much unlike the calm and quietly obedient alchemist he was everywhere else. “You are my Master.”
“If you insist, my dear,” Cerant said, smiling faintly. “Though you have ever been master of me.”
In reply, Neikirk merely blinked and smiled, and made Cerant give serious thought to skipping his meeting.
Mortal Enemies
He was going to kill the bastard. Slowly. Tear his fucking throat out.
Goddamn! He’d thought he’d left all that nonsense behind when he’d left home. Thought it well and truly over when he’d settled down in Midsummer’s Night two months ago.
Now everything was coming back to fucking haunt him and The Asshole himself was coming to ‘settle’ matters. Like it was his goddamn fault. Fuck that!
Christ, he needed a drink.
Gwyn stormed into the house and slammed the door shut behind him, snarling when it just bounced open again because he fucking hadn’t had any goddamn time to make any fucking repairs to the stupid fucking fix it upper he never should have gotten!
Snarling, he yanked open the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting off the cap and downing half of it before he was finally able to hold still for two seconds.
Just as his breathing was beginning to return to normal, he heard a car pull into the driveway. The back of his neck prickled and Gywn set down his longneck, then stalked back to the front door. He saw the bastard getting out of the car and growled low, wishing the full moon was behind him because his temper was always twice as bad on the day of change.
He threw himself out the door just as Brody started up the walkway. His nostrils flared as the sudden scent grew too strong for his anger to block out.
Gwyn saw the shock take over Brody’s face and knew it matched his own expression. “Son of a bitch!” he snarled, refusing to believe what he was smelling, what his own body was telling him. It had to be something else – anger, confusion with the looming change pending. There was no motherfucking goddamn way in all the layers of hell—
A fist connected with his jaw and Gwyn threw himself into the fight with relish, grateful for anything that would block out what he’d smelled, felt, just a few seconds ago.
A Pleasant Waking
Javed stirred, waking slowly, guiltily enjoying the fact that he could do so, that the sun had risen some time ago.
Never in all his life had he been able to sleep so late…nor go to bed so sated…happy…
Though he had been with the prince two months now, trained in how to be a concubine, welcomed warmly by the other concubines of the palace…though a concubine had not been dismissed from a harem in centuries…he still kept waiting for the day Prince Aradishir tired of him, found him no longer amusing.
Still…
Javed propped himself up on his side, reaching out to smooth his hand along Shir’s side, curling over his hip to caress his backside, something in his chest easing, warming, as the prince murmured softly in his sleep and moved closer, one hand moving to land against Javed.
Still wrapped with soft silk cords.
An entirely different kind of heat flooded Javed and he tugged lightly at the dark silk cords, remembering the way they’d bound the prince last night, left the beautiful man vulnerable to his every touch, the gasps and pleas and moans.
That a prince would surrender himself so, and to a hideous slave…
Javed moaned low and moved to brace himself over the sleeping prince, holding tightly to the silk cords, pinning the prince’s hands to the bed, then leaned down to kiss the every so slightly parted lips, warm and soft and pliant.
Still at first, but he could feel the fluttering of lashes against his face as Shir woke, moved until he realized he was restrained, then gave a low, sleepy moan and began to kiss him back.
“Javed…you make waking a pleasant thing to do…” Shir shivered beneath him, eyes warm and happy as they watched him.
“I am honored you think so, Highness,” Javed replied before leaning down to kiss him again, silently reciting a prayer that he would always have the honor of waking his prince so.
Alpha vs. Alpha
“Morded,” the twins said as they entered the room, going immediately to Oliver, circling him, sniffing. “It’s true. Smell like Lin and Dri.” Their nostrils flared. “A lot like Lin and Dri.” They growled low and prowled back to Tori and Kip, nuzzling and nipping, stopping only when Tori gave them a gentle but firm command.”
Oliver rolled his eyes and motioned the four to sit, smiling faintly at the way the twins clung tightly to Kip, sharing a smile with Tori.
“I am glad my brother has finally figured things out,” he said idly.
“Thank you for interfering.”
Tori grinned briefly. “My pleasure, I assure you.” He sobered as he turned to address the men sitting on the opposite couch. They were in a meeting room that had more in common with a living room, meant to be a more relaxed environment for mediations and such.
“Kipling is part of the Blue pack,” the first man said. His eyes flicked to Kip. “We made mistakes, and would like you to come back. You are one of mine.”
The dragons growled, all but smothering Kip in their possessiveness. If they’d been in dragon form, their tails would be lashing in prelude to a fight.
Tori stared at the werewolves contemptuously. “Family does not treat family the way you have treated Kip. He is mine.”
Alpha Blue leaned forward, all but vibrating with anger. “What would a mere human know about werewolves? He belongs to us, not as some play toy for a couple of stupid Pit fighters!”
He heard Kip start to speak, but the dragons silenced him and a moment later Tori knew his werewolf had calmed. He leaned back in his seat, seemingly without a concern in the world, but met Blue’s gaze unflinchingly. “Mere human?” he repeated, smirking. “Hardly that. I am a direct descendant of one of the mightiest kings to ever live. My bloodline alone can be Master to the Steel Dragons. There is nothing mere about me. Kip is mine, and companion to my dragons. If you think you can take him, you are welcome to try…but I think not, and I would prefer we shed no blood.”
Blue held his gaze a moment longer, then dropped his head in a sign of defeat. A long moment later he lifted it and stared at Kip. “I am sorry, Kipling. Thank you for saving our pack.”
Kip nodded.
“I will show you out,” Oliver said gently, and a few minutes later the room was empty.
Tori found himself the victim of a triple pounce. “Oof, you troublemakers. Oof, I say. Stop suffocating me!”
Kip laughed and hugged him tight, then leaned in to give him an eager, happy and hungry kiss. “Thank you, Tori,” he said softly when they broke apart.
Tori attempted to reply, but the eagerness of his dragons and wolf was rapidly making thinking, let alone talking, completely impossible. “We’re not at home!” He managed, though the words were promptly followed by the sound of someone’s clothing tearing. He hissed as he felt teeth at his hip, claws on his shoulder, a gentler set of teeth at his throat. He really wished he could have left Sie and Ril at home…but there was no way he could have. Not when their ‘puppy’ was at stake.
“Dri’s Mordred locked the door.”
Taunting the Kitty
It was always sort of surreal to watch Dixie at work.
The first impression he’d had of Dixie was a long, slow and sexy drawl lined with more than a little annoyance that he had a bleeding Yank on his leather sofa. A thief, to boot.
Dixie looked damned good, utterly perfect in fact, in torn, faded, grease-stained jeans and a dark blue tank top that did wicked things to his eyes. And those biceps. Yum.
The computers though – those were the surreal part. Dixie looked as though he should be holding a wrench or a hammer or something else associated with True Masculinity. Instead he sat with his legs propped on a dark red foot stool, just sticking out past an expensive antique-looking desk Byron had probably gotten from Obnoxious Rich Men Quarterly, with four flat screen monitors and a bunch of other humming, buzzing things that were to Greg mysterious and strange. All he cared about was that he was currently half-naked and still wet from his shower and Dixie was on the computer.
Not fair.
“You’re using that girly crap again, Yankee,” Dixie suddenly drawled. “I can smell those damned flowers from here.”
Until he’d met Dixie, Greg had never known southern drawls were such a damn turn on for him. Something about three syllables becoming six in that low, lazy voice did it for him.
“Sunflowers are not girly,” Greg said, knowing full well they were. “Byron keeps snitching the mint shampoo and I’m not using that weird industrial strength shampoo of yours.”
Dixie snorted but said nothing, the lenses of the glasses he tended to wear when on his computers flashing and reflecting whatever was on his screens.
Greg frowned. Half-naked. Wet. Why the hell were the computers still winning? He was sorely close to taking drastic measures or leaving Dixie to rot. Except leaving Dixie to rot meant he had to rot, which was not cool. “Are you going to stay there all night?” he finally asked.
A taunting smirk shaped Dixie’s mouth, though he still did not look up from the computers. “I’m trying to see if I can get the kitty to pounce.”
“Maybe kitty will find somewhere else to be.”
Dixie finally looked up at him. “And here I was going to offer to lick all that excess water away.” He shrugged and looked back at his screen. “Have it your way, Yank.”
Greg rolled his eyes, then gave in and pounced.
Not for Sale, but Available
“Peppermint!” Chason glared.
“Cinnamon!” Kevin glared right back.
“Mint!”
“Cinnamon!”
“Uh…why not get both?”
The twins ignored him, far more interested in their staring contest.
Shen rolled his eyes, sorely wishing that Sherlock or Clarence were around. No fair leaving him to deal with The Twins by himself on his first day. He’d heard about them…maybe Sherlock was giving him a baptism by fire or something.
Heaving a sigh, Shen raised his voice in a second try. “Pardon me, gentlemen!”
The Twins snorted, Kevin speaking as he turned, finally breaking gazes with his brother. “We’re not…” he blinked. Stared.
Shen fidgeted.
“Gentlemen,” Chason continued, staring just as hard. “We’re not gentlemen.”
“My mistake?” Shen asked, wondering if the fact he thought they were nuts showed in his face and voice.
From the way they grinned, it obviously did.
“Which would you say is better?” Kevin asked, suddenly standing way way closer than Shen rather thought he should be and smelling like peppermint and oh Chason smelled like cinnamon and had he missed something? “Mint or cinnamon?”
“Um—“ Shen tried to put words together but there was a distinct violation of personal space and whoa those were hands and that definitely qualified as inappropriate touching of the store clerk and he did not just squeak.
“We can never decide either,” Chason said in a tone of voice that was not what Shen would describe as casual or polite or anything except inappropriate.
And maybe kinda hot.
Kevin got even closer, his hand tangling with Chason’s while they did that whole inappropriate thing and Shen rather thought he should be protesting or screaming or—there he went notsqueaking again.
“Want to come to our place and help us debate?”
At that Shen glowered. “I’m working.” And he wasn’t a slut. Though for twins, and he kinda suspected maybe that’s what was going on here…tempting.
“We mean after work. We’ll make dinner and stuff. So what do you say?”
“Are you always this forward?”
“Yes,” the Twins said together.
Shen finally managed to break free of their seriously inappropriate touching. “Dinner. Okay. Are you going to buy something?”
Chason peered at him. “What were you eating?”
“Chocolate and peanut butter bursts.”
“We’ll take those. And the peppermint bark. And the cinnamon drops.” They grinned. “And the clerk.”
“Not for sale,” Shen muttered, but when they handed over their address and phone number along with the cash, he tucked it into his pocket and waited impatiently for it to be five o’clock.
And hoped that he wouldn’t have to tell Sherlock or Clarence how he’d gotten the twins to stop causing trouble.
Stories Worth Hearing
“I’m not going down there at night. No way, that’s where the ghost lives.”
Jeremiah snorted. He hated green knights. “There is no ghost down there. What ghost?” Why did this story insist on cropping up every time he had new soldiers to train? He’d seen ghosts. There were none in the castle.
“The ghost of that black knight…they say he died there of a wound inflicted by his lover who betrayed him.”
Jeremiah blinked. Blinked again. “Nonsense. The Black Knight died in his room of a disease he caught on the Black Mountain, his lover died of the same disease two days later because he’d refused to leave the Black Knight’s side the entire time.”
The soldiers frowned at him, not believing a word of it. “How would you know that?”
Jeremiah flushed the slightest bit as he realized the answer to that, but could not help a fond smile. “My lover copied that entire history not too long ago, and he read it aloud while he worked.”
“Oooh,” the soldiers chorused. “Of course. The Head Librarian. Sorry, Captain.”
“Get what you were sent for and then get back to the barracks,” Jeremiah replied, and turned away as they saluted and scrambled to obey.
Jeremiah shook his head at himself, wondering when he’d started actually listening to Ashley’s stories…and when he’d begun to look forward to them.
He turned a corner and nearly stumbled into the object of his thoughts, catching his lover around the waist and saving the book Ashley nearly dropped in his surprise.
“There you are,” Ashley said. “I thought maybe another crisis had arisen.”
“No, just some stray greens,” Jeremiah replied, eyes going to Ashley’s mouth, smiling shyly, hesitantly…invitingly. He accepted the invitation and kissed his lover soundly, wondering how he’d ever endured their being enemies. “What is this?” he asked when they finally broke apart, dragging his eye away from wet, kiss-swollen lips with an effort.
Ashley smiled. “A new book I’m borrowing from a friend who lives near the Black Mountains. He’s allowing me to copy it – the legend of their Ogre, as infamous as our Laughing Forest.”
“So long as there are no ghosts,” Jeremiah said with a grimace.
“No,” Ashley said with a laugh. “Would you like to hear it?”
Jeremiah nodded. He knew when he’d started listening to Ashley’s stories – the very moment he’d realized he’d do or give anything to see that happy expression on the solemn librarian’s face. “Just don’t tell the prince.”
Well-favored
Torian yawned as he reached his room, exhausted beyond belief by the extensive field training beaten into him over the past week. The only cheering thought in the whole mess was that someday he’d get to the do the same to recruits of his own.
He stopped suddenly as a servant intercepted him. “Master Torian,” the woman said, bobbing a curtsy.
Curtsy? To him? Since when? A knight was a knight, even if he did hold the Captain’s favor…
Thinking of favors reminded him that he held someone else’s favor now, and that favor was worth a million Captains. He smiled softly, thinking of Prince Zayn. A pity it was so late, his Highness was probably busy with some meal or quite possibly asleep. Ah, well. Torian would see him on the morrow.
“His Highness says that if you are not too tired, he would like very much to see you in his rooms – immediately.”
Torian nodded and sent the maid off, but inside he was panicking slightly. Zayn wanted to see him? Now? He was filthy, it was late. It was such a pleasant, tempting thought, though…
They’d barely had a day together before Zayn had been all but accosted by his family and Torian had been dragged off for field training…
He squelched the niggling fear that said perhaps he wasn’t considered good enough for Zayn. It didn’t matter. Zayn, so quiet and shy and different from his siblings, had said Torian had his favor.
Wishing he could at least get a bath first, but not wanting to delay, Torian turned and quickly made his way through the servants’ halls to Zayn’s door. He knocked, striving for the calm he used in a fight.
The door flew open and Torian was treated to the sight of a casually dressed, adorably flustered prince whose eyes lit up at seeing him. He smiled, feeling his exhaustion fall away. “Highness, you desired to see me?”
“Zayn,” the prince corrected. “Yes…unless you’re too tired, I didn’t mean to—“
Torian cut him off with a kiss, unable to resist that pretty mouth, and gently pushed the prince back until they were in the room and he could shut the door.
The smell of beeswax and soap, a crackling fire and hot food, washed over him, but none of those things were nearly so fine as Zayn’s soft, warm mouth, the way he tasted faintly of honey, the fingers that landed so hesitantly on his shoulders. “Zayn,” he said at last. “I worried another would claim your favor in my absence.”
“No,” Zayn said softly, and Torian felt nothing but deep satisfaction and a warming contentment that he was the reason that dazed, happy look was on that handsome face. “I had a bath drawn…food…”
“You’re going to spoil me rotten, I can see that,” Torian said with a grin, and dragged Zayn close for another kiss, holding him tight, wondering at his chances of convincing Zayn to share the bath with him.
Never Shall We Part
“You still have thousands of forests to go,” Briar said softly, the words barely audible. Only long practice with Briar let him hear the words.
Reynard responded automatically, far more interested in enjoying the sheer beauty of his lover, the way he glowed when bathed in moonlight. “Thousands? I shouldn’t think I had more than a few hundred left to explore.”
“Confound it, Reynard!” Briar snapped, turning sharply around on the balcony, smacking him hard on the chest. “You should not be here!”
“Why not?” Reynard asked, rubbing his chest, wincing for show.
“Because you are a reckless, foolish, arrogant brigand and this entire mess has nothing to do with you,” Briar snarled.
Reynard would have been annoyed, but everything from the set of his shoulders to the shadows in his eyes to the way Briar hunched as if cold screamed the prince was feeling scared, anxious, and guilty. Ignoring the half-hearted protests Briar immediately launched into, Reynard held his prince tight and did not let him go. “This was always my favorite forest. I could spend eternity in it, so long as you’re with me.”
“It’s not funny,” Briar said tightly. “Casting the spell will kill me.”
“Kill us,” Reynard replied and urged Briar’s head up to kiss him softly. “With my traces of magic, the spell will be much stronger. Then we really will be the ghosts of the Laughing Forest!”
“Idiot,” Briar said softly. “Reckless, foolish, arrogant, idiotic brigand.”
Reynard grinned. “But yours, my love, and that is all that ever mattered to me.”
Briar rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he said again, but when Reynard leaned down to kiss him again, he met the fervor and passion of it and returned it full measure.
A Birthday Present
Elton shivered as fingers finally unknotted the silk wrapped around his eyes.
He’d been blind for hours, not allowed to see a single thing. It had been driving him insane and the twins knew it. Every time he’d started to relax, they did something to put him on edge all over again.
Now, at last, they’d stopped moving, had disembarked…the air smelled sweet…absent of people.
“Pretty,” he breathed as the silk fell away, showing him a room the equal of those on Bangkok, but done in pale woods, crystal, soft pastels, and more flowers than he had names to put to them. Beyond the glass that formed half the walls of the massive chamber were more flowers scattered over endless stretches of green, a deep blue sky. “Where are we?”
“Vrill,” Baxter replied. “They tend to respect privacy…and have a great deal of respect for us.”
Elton smiled faintly, wondering if that was because of the popular saying that the Vrill really respected only two things – plants and beauty. Not true, of course, but amusing all the same. “So why did you bring me all the way to Vrill? I know your schedule was completely booked…more so than usual…” Which was disappointing, because he’d hoped…but he knew the life they led. Had to lead.
The twins shared a mischievous look.
“What are you up to?”
“Well…” Baxter said. “Your birthday is coming up soon…” He pet Elton, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
Lucid nuzzled him, wrapping his arms around Elton and Baxter. “We thought we’d celebrate…”
Elton frowned. “My birthday isn’t until next week.”
“Yes,” Baxter said, and the brothers both stepped away to stand in front of him beaming. “We have from now until three days after your birthday completely free, to spend here, and only our father, Kavalerov, and one or two Vrill know where we are and can contact us.”
That was…ten days. Ten whole days… No one but he and his jewels. Elton laughed in delight and threw himself into the twins’ waiting arms, who wasted no time in demonstrating what they intended to spend most of their time doing in those ten days.
The Fortress of the Duke of Torla
Beraht stared over the battlements of his fortress, feeling almost dizzy that he was a Duke and that this place and the surrounding land for as far as the eye could see, was his. He was a peer of the realm and owned everything he could see. Was responsible for it, for the people who lived there.
Dizzying.
The fortress had been built to fend off the long-gone barbarians who had once plagued the coast. No longer necessary, it had been altered into a much more comfortable, accommodating home.
Much of the original fortress remained, however, including the battlements. Set against the sea, his new home had a rough edge, but not wholly unpleasant.
Movement caught his eye and he turned to see Dieter walking toward him, spring cloak billowing in the brisk wind. “Does the fortress meet your barbaric standards?”
Dieter grinned in his wolfish way. “No. Too much silk and satin about the place. Taking this fortress would be far too easy.”
Beraht rolled his eyes. “As no one but you would dare to do such a thing, beyond men long dead, I do not particularly care. Silk and satin are far more comfortable than stone and scratchy wool.”
“Soft Salharan,” Dieter said, drawing closer, nearly looming.
More dizzying than being lord of all he saw was that look in Dieter’s eyes. A fierce hunger that Beraht knew was his to sate. Heady, that knowledge, even as it was still so new and strange.
The rough stones of the battlements dug into his back through his light linen jacket as Dieter pressed him into them, and he kicked the bastard hard to make him ease up even as he moaned into a hard, bruising kiss.
Instead, Dieter only pressed harder, shoving a leg between his thighs, fingers digging into muscles, knowing already where and how to press, and Beraht knew he’d have bruises to match those fingers when they were finished.
“You’re leaving yourself vulnerable to attack, behaving like this out in the open,” he said when Dieter finally let him go.
Dieter smirked. “From what? Illussor with sticks? They have no weapons that can overcome the battlements.”
“I thought you said this fortress was easy to take.”
Another infuriating smirk. “Yes, quite. All I need do is conquer its lord – quite easy indeed, wouldn’t you say, Beraht?”
Beraht kicked him again, pulling at the hair in which one of his hands was still buried, but his scathing retort was lost when Dieter kissed him again.
Visiting Friends
“AAAAHHHH, Goblin! Goblin! Run! Run!”
Thorley pinched the bridge of his nose and repressed the urge to run after the brats and pitch them in the creek. That would just encourage them. “Please can I kill them?”
Geoffrey laughed. “Now, now. You know they adore you.” He laughed as the two young boys in the yard continued to run around screaming – though it was more laughter and cheering than actual screaming.
“Heath! Hadley! Knock that off right now!” Giles rolled his eyes and admonished his brothers one more time to quit. “You’ve got so much energy, go finish hauling in all the firewood I chopped this morning – and after that you can clean the fish Kenzie just caught.”
“Yes, Guy!” the twins cried, bolting off with a last wave to Thorley and Geoffrey, knowing better than to cross their brother when he gave orders.
Giles came from the house, shaking his head. “I’m sorry Thorley, Geoffrey. I keep telling them it’s not amusing.”
“It’s amusing,” Geoffrey said, snickering at his lover. “Thorley just isn’t allowed to think so.”
Laughing, Giles motioned them toward the cabin. “I’m glad you could come; I hope your village will survive without you for a few days.”
“It will,” Geoffrey said.
Giles motioned for them to sit once they were inside. The furniture was all old, but sound and well cared for, little bits of color in a quilt, a vase of flowers, a rag rug, making it homey and inviting. “I’m going to check on dinner out back and find where Kenzie went off to. Make yourselves at home.” He vanished, leaving the two alone.
“I told you everything would be fine,” Geoffrey said, reaching up to brush back a loose strand of Thorley’s hair, tug lightly on one of his myriad earrings.
Thorley muttered beneath his breath and leaned down to steal a kiss. Geoffrey laughed softly as they broke apart. “You could just admit it’s fun going to visit friends…having friends to visit.”
Making a face, the goblin moved to the table and sat. “Maybe,” he grumbled. “I am happy neither of us can bear children.”
Geoffrey threw his head back and laughed, and was still laughing hard when Kenzie and Giles returned.
The Master Duelist
Dagger grunted as he blocked an upward slash, cutting hard to the right and throwing his opponent off by countering with his main gauche rather than his sword, then shifted abruptly from defense to offense, laughing in sheer delight at the pallor that overtook the man’s face.
Bastard. That would teach him to think he had the right to insult Katan in his hearing. Stupid, spoiled nobles. As if he had any right to criticize anyone when he spent his days doing nothing but dueling weaker opponents and heaping abuse upon all who crossed his path.
The man had paled a bit when Dagger had finally lost all patience and challenged him – and that slight show of fright was now turning to full-fledged panic.
With a triumphant shout Dagger disarmed the man and sent him crashing to the ground, and pressed the tip of his blade to the bastard’s throat. “Do you yield?”
“Yes,” the man snarled, but the quaver to his voice took the bite from it.
“Do not insult my Prince where I might learn of it again,” Dagger said, then pulled back and sheathed his blades. He turned – and stopped short to see Katan. “You’re supposed to be in a meeting.”
Katan flashed a grin. “It ended early. I caught wind of a duel…” His eyes flashed, grew hot. “If you’re not too tired, perhaps you’ll duel with me next?”
“Always that is my greatest pleasure, Highness.”
Katan held out a hand and Dagger immediately took it, allowing the prince to lead him from the dueling square and into the palace in which they were currently guests. “You need not fight on my behalf, Dagger,” Katan said quietly.
“Yes, I do,” Dagger said. “Though I truly prefer our duels.”
“Yes,” Katan replied, and stopped long enough to kiss him breathless before leading the way to where they could fence in private.
Heath & Hadley
Heath wiped his bruised eye and sniffed, telling himself it was because his nose was stuffy.
Beside him Hadley just glowered at the grass, absently rubbing his own black and blue cheek.
Far behind them they could already hear the cheer returning to the rest of the schoolhouse as the other kids returned to playing.
“We don’t need them,” Hadley said in his stubborn way. Hadley was always tough, no matter what.
Heath envied it, but he knew Hadley envied things about him. They’d fought about it three times before they’d decided it didn’t matter because they were twins and so shared everything sort of. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We have Guy and Kenzie. They’re all just stupid.”
“Stupid Jack shouldn’t have started it,” Hadley said, angrily kicking a rock. “Just because his family is suddenly all rich and stuff…”
Heath nodded, but he didn’t voice an agreement. He knew how much Hadley had sort of liked Jack. How much they both had. Jack had been one of the few to like them and not mind that most of the Stupid Adults didn’t like Guy, and were only nice now because Kenzie was the best healer to ever live.
Now Jack was a jerk like all the rest. Heath sniffed again, remembering the fight, how Jack had punched him. How Jack had sided with the other kids instead of with them.
“What are we going to tell Guy and Kenzie?” he finally asked.
“We got into a fight over who has to chop firewood tonight. You’re always skipping out.” Hadley smiled weakly.
Heath smiled back. “You always skip out of doing dishes.” He reached out and snagged Hadley’s hand, holding it tight for a few seconds before finally letting go. “Race you home!”
Thunderstruck
Sable returned to his seat once he was alone again in his office, turning to look out over his city – his kingdom.
Not seeing a single bit of it.
Only a little while ago he’d been in rather a foul mood, feeling the pins and needles that told him his time on earth was growing short. Clawing with the need to do something, anything, to not return to hell.
None of that seemed to matter anymore.
Not since his beautiful half-ghost had walked through the door. For surely that’s what Christian must be…Sable could probably find the spell or spells which had done it.
That mix of energies was heady, drugging. The only thing better would be to see those energies drenched in his own. Yes. He wanted that more than his next breath. To see that strange combination of sun gold and pitch black blended with his own silver-gray energies. To know that everyone would see Christian belonged to him.
Sable laughed softly at himself. Hundreds of years of freedom gloriously enjoyed after his miserable captivity, too many nights dreading the time when he’d be confined to a territory and his freedom would be lost in binding himself to a consort…
And people thought demons impossible to defeat.
He looked out over the city and wondered how long he would have to wait until he could claim what was his.
Sleepy Spook Detective
Chris twitched, shaking whatever was crawling across his neck loose. Stupid bugs. He knew that dumb realtor bitch had lied about the cleanliness. He’d have to buy…whatever got rid of bugs.
Tired. He wanted to go back to sleep.
Something touched him again and Chris snarled low, forcing himself to sit up.
Blearily he blinked around his dark, dingy office, feeling a pang that it was still so ramshackle.
Yawning, he reached up to rub the back of his next, wondering what had been crawling on him, finding nothing but not surprised.
He should…do something….but with another yawn he laid his head back down. Going up to his bed was too much like work and anyway the phone might ring and he could sorely use the work…
Growling as something again touched his neck, Chris snapped up and whipped around –
“What in the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.
Sable smirked. “You did not come to dinner, beloved. I worried.”
“Dinner?” Chris blinked and turned bleary eyes to the clock across the room. “Fuck. It’s that late?” He groaned and let his head drop back down to the desk.
“You should go to bed, beloved.”
“I’m not your beloved,” Chris groused, forcing himself to sit up, then stand up. “I’m sorry about dinner.” He was. Even if he knew the demon was just going to get bored with him soon…he’d really liked their last two…dates, the word was dates. He rubbed his eyes, his forehead, then leaned against Sable’s chest, dozing lightly.
Wait a second. When the hell did he get close enough to Sable to lean against him? Why was he leaning against Sable? Chris forced his brain to function and looked up, glaring at the I’m Innocent And Would Never Do Anything Wrong look on Sable’s face.
“You should rest, beautiful.”
“I’m fine,” Chris growled, struggling to get away from the demon and failing miserably. “Work to do.” Even if the previous night had been exhausting, and he’d only gotten two hours of sleep, and never wanted to see another vampire as long as he lived.
“Since you missed our date,” Sable said with the faintest of smirks, “you should do what I ask.”
“Not fair,” Chris said, wishing he had the energy to smack him.
“Please?” Sable said.
Chris glowered. “You’re cheating.”
Sable smiled. “You should rest.”
“Fine,” Chris snapped. “Though it seems to me I was doing that just fine until you showed up!”
“Because you missed our date.”
Chris fell silent and glared.
Laughing softly, Sable held him tight and the office vanished.
Chris glared harder. “I didn’t say I was sleeping in your room!”
“You didn’t specify,” Sable said smugly. “Anyway, you’re mine so it’s our room now.”
Chris really really wanted to argue that point, but he was damned tired and the sheets and blankets felt soft and warm though he didn’t remember saying he was going to sleep naked and was that Sable nex…
Master
Cerant felt very much as though he were doing something he ought not as Neikirk collapsed on top of him, still shivering with the aftershocks of release, sticky with sweat and the evidence of their pleasure, breaths hot against his skin.
He nudged Neikirk’s head up from his shoulder to steal a warm, slow kiss, tasting a bit of himself mingled with the salty-sweet flavor of his lover.
Neikirk was his lover. He would never grow tired of thinking that.
He wiped damps strands of hair from Neikirk’s face and kissed him again.
Fingers flexed on his skin, that slender body shifting against his own. “Master…you have a meeting soon…”
Cerant shook his head. “You should not call me that here, my dear.”
Neikirk blinked slowly, then leaned in close and kissed him, so very much unlike the calm and quietly obedient alchemist he was everywhere else. “You are my Master.”
“If you insist, my dear,” Cerant said, smiling faintly. “Though you have ever been master of me.”
In reply, Neikirk merely blinked and smiled, and made Cerant give serious thought to skipping his meeting.
Mortal Enemies
He was going to kill the bastard. Slowly. Tear his fucking throat out.
Goddamn! He’d thought he’d left all that nonsense behind when he’d left home. Thought it well and truly over when he’d settled down in Midsummer’s Night two months ago.
Now everything was coming back to fucking haunt him and The Asshole himself was coming to ‘settle’ matters. Like it was his goddamn fault. Fuck that!
Christ, he needed a drink.
Gwyn stormed into the house and slammed the door shut behind him, snarling when it just bounced open again because he fucking hadn’t had any goddamn time to make any fucking repairs to the stupid fucking fix it upper he never should have gotten!
Snarling, he yanked open the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting off the cap and downing half of it before he was finally able to hold still for two seconds.
Just as his breathing was beginning to return to normal, he heard a car pull into the driveway. The back of his neck prickled and Gywn set down his longneck, then stalked back to the front door. He saw the bastard getting out of the car and growled low, wishing the full moon was behind him because his temper was always twice as bad on the day of change.
He threw himself out the door just as Brody started up the walkway. His nostrils flared as the sudden scent grew too strong for his anger to block out.
Gwyn saw the shock take over Brody’s face and knew it matched his own expression. “Son of a bitch!” he snarled, refusing to believe what he was smelling, what his own body was telling him. It had to be something else – anger, confusion with the looming change pending. There was no motherfucking goddamn way in all the layers of hell—
A fist connected with his jaw and Gwyn threw himself into the fight with relish, grateful for anything that would block out what he’d smelled, felt, just a few seconds ago.
A Pleasant Waking
Javed stirred, waking slowly, guiltily enjoying the fact that he could do so, that the sun had risen some time ago.
Never in all his life had he been able to sleep so late…nor go to bed so sated…happy…
Though he had been with the prince two months now, trained in how to be a concubine, welcomed warmly by the other concubines of the palace…though a concubine had not been dismissed from a harem in centuries…he still kept waiting for the day Prince Aradishir tired of him, found him no longer amusing.
Still…
Javed propped himself up on his side, reaching out to smooth his hand along Shir’s side, curling over his hip to caress his backside, something in his chest easing, warming, as the prince murmured softly in his sleep and moved closer, one hand moving to land against Javed.
Still wrapped with soft silk cords.
An entirely different kind of heat flooded Javed and he tugged lightly at the dark silk cords, remembering the way they’d bound the prince last night, left the beautiful man vulnerable to his every touch, the gasps and pleas and moans.
That a prince would surrender himself so, and to a hideous slave…
Javed moaned low and moved to brace himself over the sleeping prince, holding tightly to the silk cords, pinning the prince’s hands to the bed, then leaned down to kiss the every so slightly parted lips, warm and soft and pliant.
Still at first, but he could feel the fluttering of lashes against his face as Shir woke, moved until he realized he was restrained, then gave a low, sleepy moan and began to kiss him back.
“Javed…you make waking a pleasant thing to do…” Shir shivered beneath him, eyes warm and happy as they watched him.
“I am honored you think so, Highness,” Javed replied before leaning down to kiss him again, silently reciting a prayer that he would always have the honor of waking his prince so.
Alpha vs. Alpha
“Morded,” the twins said as they entered the room, going immediately to Oliver, circling him, sniffing. “It’s true. Smell like Lin and Dri.” Their nostrils flared. “A lot like Lin and Dri.” They growled low and prowled back to Tori and Kip, nuzzling and nipping, stopping only when Tori gave them a gentle but firm command.”
Oliver rolled his eyes and motioned the four to sit, smiling faintly at the way the twins clung tightly to Kip, sharing a smile with Tori.
“I am glad my brother has finally figured things out,” he said idly.
“Thank you for interfering.”
Tori grinned briefly. “My pleasure, I assure you.” He sobered as he turned to address the men sitting on the opposite couch. They were in a meeting room that had more in common with a living room, meant to be a more relaxed environment for mediations and such.
“Kipling is part of the Blue pack,” the first man said. His eyes flicked to Kip. “We made mistakes, and would like you to come back. You are one of mine.”
The dragons growled, all but smothering Kip in their possessiveness. If they’d been in dragon form, their tails would be lashing in prelude to a fight.
Tori stared at the werewolves contemptuously. “Family does not treat family the way you have treated Kip. He is mine.”
Alpha Blue leaned forward, all but vibrating with anger. “What would a mere human know about werewolves? He belongs to us, not as some play toy for a couple of stupid Pit fighters!”
He heard Kip start to speak, but the dragons silenced him and a moment later Tori knew his werewolf had calmed. He leaned back in his seat, seemingly without a concern in the world, but met Blue’s gaze unflinchingly. “Mere human?” he repeated, smirking. “Hardly that. I am a direct descendant of one of the mightiest kings to ever live. My bloodline alone can be Master to the Steel Dragons. There is nothing mere about me. Kip is mine, and companion to my dragons. If you think you can take him, you are welcome to try…but I think not, and I would prefer we shed no blood.”
Blue held his gaze a moment longer, then dropped his head in a sign of defeat. A long moment later he lifted it and stared at Kip. “I am sorry, Kipling. Thank you for saving our pack.”
Kip nodded.
“I will show you out,” Oliver said gently, and a few minutes later the room was empty.
Tori found himself the victim of a triple pounce. “Oof, you troublemakers. Oof, I say. Stop suffocating me!”
Kip laughed and hugged him tight, then leaned in to give him an eager, happy and hungry kiss. “Thank you, Tori,” he said softly when they broke apart.
Tori attempted to reply, but the eagerness of his dragons and wolf was rapidly making thinking, let alone talking, completely impossible. “We’re not at home!” He managed, though the words were promptly followed by the sound of someone’s clothing tearing. He hissed as he felt teeth at his hip, claws on his shoulder, a gentler set of teeth at his throat. He really wished he could have left Sie and Ril at home…but there was no way he could have. Not when their ‘puppy’ was at stake.
“Dri’s Mordred locked the door.”
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Date: 2007-03-24 11:26 pm (UTC)They were so sweet, and Jerimaiah was all like "...Oh crap.." and then it was all Awwwww, and then it was a MINI CROSSOVER [sorta] and I know I'm making absolulty no sense at all but I'M SO HAPPY!!!
*will make whatever fanart your heart desires*
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Date: 2007-03-24 11:34 pm (UTC)*grins*
Hehehe!
Date: 2007-03-25 12:13 am (UTC)Your heart, as well as several other of your major organs, have asked me to convey their gratitude.
Huh, that sounded better in my head. Thank anyway!
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Date: 2007-03-25 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 02:11 am (UTC)*love, love, love*
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Date: 2007-03-25 02:34 am (UTC)love zayn and torian as well. zayn is so sweet. and speaking of sweet . . . ashley and jeramiah. fabulous drabbles one and all.
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Date: 2007-03-25 02:42 am (UTC)NfS,bA: ZOMG! TWINS! *tackle glomps you* Twins and in that universe!! *bounces around happily* Eieeeeee!! I heart you times a thousand. ^___^ Poor Shen. *snickers* SQUEE! <<33
SWH: Crossovers!! *glomps* I LOVE how you can do that and make it seem so effortless. And Jeremiah and Ashley are so, so, so adorable. *hearts*
W-F: EIEEEE!!! Oh, I love those two!! *twirls you about* I like Torian's little bout of uncertainty there too, and the way Zayn is when he answers the door. *hearts*
NSWP: ;_; *wibbles* Oh, that was just...so good. *glomps*
BP: Heeee!!!! XD!! Lucid and Baxter and Pretty and damn that will never get old. Hee!! I love the way that they spoil him and the way that he doesn't expect it. ^__^!!
FotDoT: XD!! You know, when they're wrinkly old men, Beraht will still be kicking him and Dieter will still be stealing kisses in return. Gyah! They're so adorably violent. ^_^;;
I'm Sorry
Date: 2007-03-25 03:25 am (UTC)The second drabble- Something Sweet- was from one of your short stories. (Actually that was my favorite of your short stories, I really love it). Did I miss something though? Was there like a sequel or a something that followed the story?
--Confused Lurker
Re: I'm Sorry
Date: 2007-03-25 03:34 am (UTC)No sequel involving the twins if that's what you mean ^_^ I made them up just for the drabble. Skylark did write a sequel though, about clarence. It's here (http://skylark97.livejournal.com/398386.html).
Yay!
Date: 2007-03-25 07:37 am (UTC)I only just made a livejournal account, even though I've been reading your stories for well over a year and fangirling in secret. Love your writing and I have to say that Prisoner is my fav out of all your stories so far. Love how Beraht keeps kicking Dieter, even if it doesn't do much. He's really got to learn to fight now that he can't use arcen, or will he learn how to use Illusor magic instead? As I understood it he pretty much pushed a 'reset' button on their magic, so maybe since his magic was 'pure' he'll be the first to re-learn magic?
I am barely holding off from begging a sequel, and if not that, more drabbles.
Would you mind if I friended you?
Re: Yay!
Date: 2007-03-25 01:29 pm (UTC)^___^
Magic is gone for good in Illussor, so if Beraht wants to stand any chance of defeating Dieter, he'd have to learn to fight -- but I doubt he'd win even then.
Ahaha <3 I do believe avalon is up to Mischief of a sequel type, and I may do my own one day far off in the distant future.
Friend away! ^___^
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Date: 2007-03-25 08:12 am (UTC)Sadly, that's all I have the brain power for at the moment. I will probably comment again when I've read more than just my request, and it;s not 4am int he morning.
But still, yay!!!! It made me happy ^^
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Date: 2007-03-25 08:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 08:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 10:40 am (UTC)anyway, love love love your stuff^^
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Date: 2007-03-25 10:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 11:10 am (UTC)Thanks so much for considerably improving my day.
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Date: 2007-03-25 01:36 pm (UTC)anyway, love love love your stuff^^
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Date: 2007-03-25 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 12:23 am (UTC)Briar and Reynard, Katan and Dagger are love! Nice job with the Sable introspective. Zayn and Tori are adorable, and Jereiah's so cute when he softens up for Ashley.
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Date: 2007-03-26 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 01:56 am (UTC)Thank you! <3
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Date: 2007-03-26 02:13 am (UTC)*love, love, love*
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Date: 2007-03-26 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 02:43 am (UTC)Hurray!
Date: 2007-03-26 05:08 am (UTC)Er, sorry about the fangirl babbling.
*vanishes back into lurkem*
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Date: 2007-03-26 06:40 am (UTC)Meanwhile, I'm wondering which story Gwyn and Brody are from... Is it midsummer's moon? Cuz I think i saw the word 'midsummer' there, although I don't remember these two characters...
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Date: 2007-03-26 11:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 07:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 07:27 am (UTC)*glompstacklesloooooooooooves* And not just for foursome, although I remember that's what I requested. All the drabbles are wonderful and glorious and eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I love you so much!!!
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Date: 2007-03-26 07:50 am (UTC)Damn, your good.
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Date: 2007-03-26 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 03:59 pm (UTC)Jewels and Pretty, and Sable and Chris!
'specially loved the twins Heath & Hadley. Do we get another one with them?
But who are Gwyn and Brody, and Javed and Aradishir? Did I miss a story, or two?
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Date: 2007-03-26 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 04:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 05:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-29 03:19 am (UTC)Heath and Hadley are just sad. Another Jack who has his friendship priorities wrong. You want to just cuddle them.
I like Dieter all pushy romantic;well he is for Dieter.
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Date: 2007-03-30 11:15 am (UTC)Nice to see Neikirk and Cerant too, was wondering what had happened to them and all the other alchemists....
And i hope Hadley and Heath get someone of their own... i especially like them. And Briar and Reynard... i've got to reread your stories cos their situation puzzled me... i know they became ghosts eventually, but still stayed together. So sad... i do believe that was the first fairy tale where you had a semi sad ending.
Oh, and i've been lurking around... commented once before, but i changed my account since then, so... can i friend you? I've been reading your stories since forever anyway... i'll try to comment more though, from now on. :P Thanks!
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Date: 2007-12-31 12:08 am (UTC)Taunting the Kitty – Dixie and Greg
Well Favoured – Torian and Zayn
The Master Duelist – Dagger and Katan
Mortal Enemies – Gwyn and Brody
A Pleasant Waking – Javed and Shir
Umm... would you have some time to point me in the right direction? Would really appreciate it!
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Date: 2007-12-31 12:27 am (UTC)Dixie and Greg are from Drunk Butterflies (http://maderr.livejournal.com/482212.html#cutid1)
Torian and Zayn are from Ogre of the Black Mountain (http://maderr.livejournal.com/371717.html#cutid1)
Dagger and Katan are from Main Gauche (http://www.amasour.com/main%20gauche.htmli)
Gwyn & Brody were a story I never really got around to writng
Javed and Shir are from a story in harem-verse I'm writing for ki-chan. It's still IP, but the start of it is here (http://maderr.livejournal.com/567646.html#cutid1)