Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(28)

He laughed. So much for not creating godly progeny. A little cheat, but what did he care? Now buried in her exquisite flesh, he listened to the music of her delightful cries of agony and ecstasy and planted his seed.

And the game played on.





Chapter Three


Eden had only just woken from another odd slumber when banging at her door sounded. She wiped her hair out of her eyes and grimaced at the clock. Seven in the morning. Joy. She’d gotten another four hours of sleep on top of her nine hours from the day before.

She hurried out of bed when the knocking grew louder. “Hold on,” she shouted and pulled on a long robe to cover her Trail Blazers sleep shirt. After running her hands through her hair and taking a quick check in her dresser mirror to show her suitably covered up, she hustled to the door, expecting to find her neighbor Jenny asking for a cup of sugar. Which Eden would give her because that meant a plate of cookies as a thank you. She’d gotten more brownies, snickerdoodles and lemon bars that way. Man, she could really sink her teeth into a lemon b—

She froze, seeing the large body standing outside her door. Oh, hell no.

Knowing the situation was one she didn’t want to deal with, she hurried away from the door back into her bedroom and threw off her robe. Grabbing a pair of pants, a bra, and a sweatshirt, she readied to dress when she heard her front door bang open.

Shit. She slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it, scared yet strangely excited, despite her heart pounding with dread. That bloodied bruiser from yesterday had found her, at her home. None of this could turn out well, no matter how much sexier he looked up-close and clean.

Great, keep thinking he’s sexy while he butchers you like a pig.

The reference brought to mind the unsettling man from her nightmare, and she paused, caught between the hint of an answer and more questions.

Then the intruder burst through her bedroom door. “You,” he said in what sounded like surprise, his accent thick, his voice arousingly deep. “Come with me.”

She threw her clothes at him and tried to make a break for the bathroom. But the man was too quick. He grabbed her and tossed her to the bed as if she weighed nothing. Then he followed her down, pinning her with his hard body and grabbing her hands to stop her from punching him.

No matter how she tried to budge, he held her still with little effort.

“Get off me. Who are you?” She gasped, out of breath from exertions that had no impact.

He stared at her with a frown, his eyes so much richer than just brown. The irises had sparks of amber and a fiery light of intelligence shining within. His gaze traveled over her face, taking an inordinate amount of time on her lips.

“Well?” Could the guy not understand English? He’d seemed to speak it well enough. She tried to squirm again, and the bastard released more of his weight onto her, smashing her into the mattress.

“You will cease fighting me.” He put both her wrists under one of his large hands then used his other to wipe a stray strand of hair from her face. He curled the black stuff over his fingers, staring at it, then at her, with an odd look on his face. “I know you.”

She opened her mouth to retort then thought the better of it. Instead, she watched him as a growing familiarity dawned.

The man’s eyes widened, and he swore. “I do know you.”

Before she could say anything, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Tense and terrified because, though he could rape her, she, for some reason, hadn’t actually thought he might try, she didn’t move.

The kiss was so light it might not have been, and she blinked her eyes open to see him, not aware she’d closed them. He stared into her eyes as his lips pressed, and the fire that blazed from that simple touch freaked her the hell out.

He pulled back as if bitten by a snake.

She didn’t know what to think. She could feel part of him hard and insistent against her belly. Her own body had betrayed her with one kiss. Her breasts ached for his touch, her * flooded, and her entire body wanted more of him. So sensitized to him, she felt his breath in the rise and fall of his frame against hers.

“A sorceress?”

Eden took a moment to understand him. “W-what?”

He stared at her mouth a moment before looking back at her eyes. “Who are you?”

What name had she given his friend? She couldn’t for the life of her remember. “Who are you?”

“I am Tariq. What are you about with Set?”

At the name Set, his voice grew softer, more menacing, and the warm glint in his gaze hardened.

“Who?”

“The vial. Where is it?”

More questions she didn’t understand. “Um, my next batch of perfume isn’t ready yet, but I have some lavender in my workroom out back.” Hel-lo, Crazytown. Why did all the sexy ones have to be so nuts?

“You wish for me to kill you?” he asked as casually as one requested a latte.

She tensed. “Of course not.” Her will faltered. “I don’t know what you want.” She tried to be strong, but any way she looked at it, she’d been pushed beyond reasonable since losing nine hours of her life yesterday and being attacked by a giant today. Fear, longing, confusion—all of her emotions pushed her into a weepy state, and she absolutely hated to cry.

She blinked through her tears, not expecting him to react one way or another.