Night
Reins
By a.c.
Mason
Copyright 2011 by a.c. Mason
ISBN# 978-0-9837809-3-9
Smashwords edition published by Jupiter Gardens Press at Smashwords
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Night Reins
The Minoan Reins (Novel 1)
a.c. Mason
PPB
Dedication
To my family for the countless sacrifices made over the years to support me in making my dream become a reality.
Acknowledgements
Anastasia Massiah, “Bird” my critique partner thank you for believing in this book and in me. You never let up.
My editor Julie Trevelyan for her patience and pushing me to transform Night Reins into what it should be.
Author’s Note:
The MINOAN REINS series and book one NIGHT REINS.
Minoan: A civilization from the island of Crete from the Bronze age. They had a sophisticated culture that fascinates me for the era. I took my knowledge of these ancient inhabitants and ran with it.
I’m often told I’m esoteric with my references so let me try and bring you, the reader into the fold of my mind. I know that’s a scary place to go. The concept of reins came from the specific aspect of control. At times in my life, I have a firm grip on the reins of who I am and what I put into the world. At other times, I’ve been reaching out unsure of where the reins have gone or how to get them back. Have you ever had that feeling? I often ask myself the following question. What is control? I don’t mean the definition, but how do I define it for myself. Is control when I can let go and trust in others or when I know my own mind and heart? Or both…
Weapons are often the clearest physical manifestation of the desire for control. It’s why I choose the samurai sword as the symbol of reins.
In book one of The MINOAN REINS series I deal with NIGHT. NIGHT can be seductive. A period of time when reins are relinquished. At time of fear and the unknown. What control does NIGHT hold over us or which are the parts we willingly give up?
Maybe you’ll allow NIGHT to take your REINS or you shall take NIGHT by the REINS. Either way I hope you enjoy NIGHT REINS as much as I’ve loved the journey of writing this book.
Prologue
Catalyst
Lordel leaned against the brick building next to unit eight’s door. A series of repetitive tasks plagued him. Save the human or humans and eliminate the fallen of his race. So it went.
Screams and pleas tainted the hot summer night. On the other side of the door, a woman suffered at the hands of his kin. He withdrew his Masamune Okazaki sword from inside his trench coat. As the edge sliced through the humid air, the Tamahagane blade glinted in the moonlight. From the gleaming surface, his dark green eyes stared back at him beside the etching of his family name Pseira. These ancient weapons lacked context in the modern world of computerized armament and bio warfare. They were brute yet effective tools of a necessary evil to maintain balance between the Minoans and Nox to protect humans.
“I’m getting too old for this.” So, he did not age. He had done this too many goddamn times. Given the task at hand, perhaps he should feel something other than put out. However, he was too far gone down the path into the void to care. He feared the worst, that he too would soon become vile—a Nox.
“You insisted on being here.” Mr. Elson shrugged. As he took up his post on the other side of the doorframe, he ran a hand through his unkempt hair. The man needed a haircut.
“So, I did. Are you going to remind me all night?” Having the ruler at an execution was rubbing Lordel’s general, Mr. Elson, the wrong way. It was the Lord’s right to be executioner if doing so was in the best interest of his people. These days all that remained for him were his responsibilities as Lord of the Minoans. The only thing he did well with certainty.
“Are you going to complain—all night?” Mr. Elson withdrew his sword.
Lordel had walked into that one. “Point taken.” The general was touchy this evening.
Two other Minoan council members and head of their clans arrived. Kalibe of the healing kin Knossos followed by Mark of the gatherer bloodline Mexphio. They slipped around to the back of the red brick building. Each of them held their clan’s sword in hand. They were needed as witnesses and backup.
Minoans traditions remained untouched. Their customs did not waver with trends like those of humans. Protect the humans, create order, and restore balance was the cycle of their lives. Those tasks were all that were left in his life.
Pitiful pleas lingered in the air. The stench of the Boston waterfront could not be erased by a few clean up jobs. The area needed gutting, inside and out. A converted button factory was now an overpriced loft apartment building, which stood between him and the convicted. On the bright side, no other tenants had moved in since they purchased the building. Otherwise, he and the council would spend the night erasing the humans’ memories.
“Let’s finish this.” Lordel gripped the smooth black handle of his weapon.
Mr. Elson spoke telepathically, Let’s roll.
Lordel rammed his shoulder into the door. With ease the frame broke. Splintered wood flew in all directions. The scent of decay assaulted him with its sweet, yet rancid bouquet. Tattered furniture adorned the large open spaced loft.
Teriq stood at the back, beside a bed with blood-drenched sheets, holding a nude woman by her hair. Lordel had failed his baby brother. The only physical difference between the creature before him and his adoring younger sibling was its ruby halo irises. This thing was no longer his kin, but turned. A Nox, a shadow creature damned to never see daylight, unable to feel any emotion or sensation himself, who sought emotional thrills through torture, and could hear the secret desires in the hearts of others.
Teriq shoved the young woman to the pristine floor. She slammed into the ground with a whimper, and then crawled away. Teriq bolted toward the back.
Mark and Kalibe blocked his escape, swords drawn.
“I guess my secret’s out.” Teriq lifted his arms in surrender.
Lordel met the ruby red stare of the Nox before him. “It is.” He frowned, as the trembling girl stopped at his legs.
Her clouded blue eyes met his gaze and her blackened veins showed through pasty skin covered in bite marks. Infected. Sad. Minoan blood ravaged her body turning her into a blood drinker without a conscience. Vampire. A soulless creature trapped between life and death. Nothing could be done for her. Blood drizzled from a puncture in her neck.
Far too long had passed since he had the pleasure of tasting from flesh. The aroma beckoned him. He forced his eyes shut. No matter the pull, he could not give into it—becoming a Nox.
“What will you do with me?” Teriq shrugged. “Put me in a cryogenic state like the elders.”
If only that were an option. Once Teriq crossed the line and tortured the human, he’d sealed his fate. Debating the human coexistence section of Minoan law would only delay the inevitable outcome. Lordel reopened his eyes and bent to assist the young woman to the frayed chair a few feet behind her.
“Help me, please...” She held her hands together in prayer. “Please. He’s a monster.”
Were they not all fiends of some sort or another? He would not condemn her to an existence of suffering, where everything around her would die at the hand of the monster she would become. This night, he was no savior. Just as there were no females left of his kind to reverse his descent into becoming a Nox, he could not stop the infection moving through her.
“Shh.” He brushed the hair from her soiled face. “Look into my eyes. There will be no more pain. I promise.”
As she wiped the corner of her torn lips with her battered hand, she met his gaze. The strong metallic smell of human blood mixed with the putrid odor of adrenaline in the air. His stomach lurched.
Once he had been foolish and hopeful. However, since Project Vita, human females conjured only images of pain, suffering, and death. Homeless, runaways, and prostitutes had been lured by his kind. In nineteen fifty one, reproductive technology had been too primitive to attempt Minoan crossbreeding with humans. Their genetics were different and would not combine. Yet he had approved the experiments the Minoan scientists believed would save their race. All of it had been done on the slim possibility that a female might be born that could pull him out of the darkness consuming his soul. His decision had forced those women to suffer. In the end, he had played the role of angel of mercy.
Invading the frightened woman’s mind, he found a memory where she had felt loved. A comforting hug she had shared with her mother brought her feelings of happiness. He forced her to relive the experience.
As she drifted into the memory and the relief it brought her, he swept his blade forward through her neck. What a waste. The severed head tumbled to the floor. Blood bubbled up from the headless body slumped to his feet.
The allure of her blood gripped him, causing his hands to shake. He forced himself to look away.
“What do I care if you killed the cow?” Teriq tilted his head. “There are more where she came from. The infestation is worldwide.” His words were meant to provoke an emotional response.
If only Lordel was capable of one. “You disgrace us.” He reached into his pocket, removed a black handkerchief, and cleaned the blood-glazed blade. Why had his brother not fought the changes as he was doing now? With a flick, he discarded the stained fabric onto the bed. All the contaminated items would be burned.
“No, it’s you, Lord Elquahem, who shames us. You think humans are our equals. They are prey, beneath us on the food chain. You aren’t fit to carry our father, the great king’s, name.”
Lordel never wanted to have the man’s name or title. “Your words are poison.”
Teriq leaned in. “You teeter on the edge of darkness and long for your suffering to end. Join me,” he said, barely audible.
With a twist, Lordel maneuvered away. After tonight, Lordel would be the last of his bloodline other than Leuco. Though, he was long dead in Lordel’s eyes. Regret and sorrow were luxuries, emotions he no longer felt as he walked the sword’s edge to his own transformation. Soon, he too would succumb.
Mr. Elson and Mark seized Teriq by the arms. Mark kicked him behind his left knee then brought him to the floor. Kalibe stood a few steps behind. He gripped his sword with both hands, ready to cut off any possible escape.
“You force us to live in hiding, hold us to human ideals.” Spit flew from Teriq’s mouth. “We should treat them no better than livestock. We provide them with humane deaths, but they are an inhumane species.”
Worst of all, this was becoming an all too familiar sentiment among Minoans.
“Enough. You have broken our laws. The council has convened. We have found you guilty of enslaving a human for food and sexual gratification. Punishment is execution, to be carried out immediately.”
Mr. Elson and Mark held him on his knees.
“You will feel the pain and guilt of this night.” Teriq slumped. “You hurt for us all.”
If only his brother’s words were still true. Of late, he had slipped too far to feel.
Lordel placed his sword to his throat. Blood slid along the sharp edge.
“Ad perpetuam memoriam.” To the perpetual memory. He took a breath then lifted the blade through his flesh and bone. Red glazed the metal. Drops trickled off the tip.
Teriq’s detached head dropped to the floor with a thump.
The vibrating steel of his sword broke the silence of the room.
“Another of us lost.” At this rate, the end of their race would come at the hand of time. Without a mate, he too grew empty until the numbness consumed him and he would become Nox. Kalibe and Elynna were the last of them born, nearly four hundred years ago. They were a species on the verge of extinction.
Mr. Elson released the decapitated body. “You should have left this to me.”
“Teriq was my kin. His mother’s clan would not have taken it well if you carried out the order. Therefore, he was mine to slay.” Blood drained toward him. He stepped back to avoid the trail of it. “The feuds amongst us could begin again.” Lordel could not risk any more dissension amid them. Not with less than a thousand of them left worldwide. Since his father’s murder, the burden rested with him to ensure the clans remained unified.
Mr. Elson placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am my Lord’s keeper.”
“Yes, you are, and I’m glad to have you,” Lordel said.
Centuries of shame had plagued Mr. Elson's family. The previous general, and Mr. Elson’s biological father, Athos, had raped his mother, therefore ruining her. Mr. Elson was the product. Lordel’s father’s behavior alienated the clans for nearly two millennia and caused infighting for him to clean up when he became leader.
Mr. Elson withdrew his hand. “Do you have someone in mind to take over Teriq’s portfolios as Minoan Minister of Information and Director of Public Relations at Pseira Industries?”
Hard discussions lay ahead. No one would be pleased with his plan. “I want to think on the matter a while longer.” His decision was made. He knew putting a human in a senior position at Pseira Industries would commence far more than waves. Tonight was not the time to begin the tsunami.
Mr. Elson chuckled with more tension than humor. “You sound too rigid. No one today says ‘think on the matter.’”
“I’m unambiguous, which requires contextual detail.”
“All I’m saying is when you talk like that, you sound pretentious.”
Lordel cocked his brow. “You expect me to take advice on pretense from someone who hides behind his vow of chastity?” The irony of it.
There were moments, brief ones when he wondered what it would be like to feel again. Especially to the depth Mr. Elson appeared to.
“I’m not hiding.” He looked away and shoved his hands into his pockets. “How many times must I explain this to you? I took a vow of abstinence until I am paired for life.”
Lordel shook his head. Did Mr. Elson not realize that their lives were lonely enough without self-imposed exiles? “While we are on the subject of repeating ourselves, I presume you’re aware that Minoan law hasn’t had those provisions since the eleventh century.” He swiped at a drop of blood on his arm, tore his eyes from the red streak, then grinned like a mindless mortal. “However, if denying yourself simple pleasures brings you comfort, who am I to judge.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Don’t attempt to muddle our discussion. I get around.” Not as much as he used to. It was clear to him the emptiness had dulled the senses, so nothing felt as vivid as before. “As much as I’d love to continue our discourse, I must excuse myself. I’m taking Elynna to the movie theater.”
“Chaperone duty.” Mr. Elson tilted forward. “She’s more than a few handfuls. Good luck.”
With only four females left and none of the males interested in the bitter, spoiled, and barren women, the role of escort fell on his and the security team's shoulders. Being out after dark unaccompanied by a male was illegal for Minoan females, a law he passed to protect the willful from their own destructive behavior. The Nox had kidnapped, experimented, tortured, and recorded the final excruciating hours of her life, which was then sent to her clan.
Kalibe cleared his throat, lifted his shades, which swept his hair back. “Watch it, that’s my sister you’re talking about. Can we finish? I’ve got a date with a hot Chicana.”
Mark stepped back into the room, opened a body bag, and stuffed Teriq’s head inside.
“Stage a car accident where Teriq and the young woman die. Allow the media to do our work for us for a change.” Lordel walked to the doorframe.
“Yes, my Lord.” Mark nodded and assisted Kalibe with the lifeless body.
“I’m out of here.” Lordel glanced back. “Better?”
Mr. Elson narrowed his eyes. “If you have to ask.”
Before he forgot. “One last thing, a pregnant woman was attacked by the harbor just over an hour ago; please have your team eliminate any Nox or Vampires. If they are Leuco’s minions, send them in a box with my regards.”
“I sent Iesos with a few men after the police left. You need real hobbies. Listening to the emergency scanner is a one on the excitement scale.” Mr. Elson pinched the bridge of his nose.
How did he know where he had heard the information if he was not doing the same thing? “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”
Slipping the sword inside his trench coat, he walked out. Humans were the key to their race's survival. Too much talk of Minoan superiority resonated throughout the clans to be ignored. Desperate times lay ahead, and he needed to enact extreme measures to save them from themselves.
Chapter One
Three hundred and twenty-three days later…
Night
Humanity owned Tazrein Noir. Her life was one of servitude and night was her cage. The only possible escape for her was a violent death. If such an outcome were even possible for her.
Twilight hummed around her like an acoustic pitch on the nearly deserted downtown city street. The ripple of the vibration roused her body from the state of exile that day imposed upon her. It was a love/hate relationship, since she never felt more alive than at night, or when in the service of her duty to humanity: hunting and killing vampires.
Last year she had everything, though only for a fleeting moment. A loving husband and their baby on the way, but the creatures sucking Boston dry had snuffed it. For her own good and the safety of others, she’d given up on the idea of a normal life: a husband, house, white picket fence, one point two five kids and an unruly dog. The stuff other women her age were settling into. She had the night and her duty to humanity and they had her by the jugular. She refused to be a cliché, to let the pain of what they stole from her turn to hate and revenge.
Otherwise, they had won. She refused to let them win. Her life was about ensuring others didn’t suffer the same agony as she had. What she’d yet to figure out was a balance between her needs and those of the universes’. There had to be a man who’d enjoy a physical connection without all the messy emotional stuff.
Days without hunting always left her on edge. She needed the physical relief that made her corner of the world a safer place. With her modified Tanto blade tucked in her handbag, she was ready to make puddles out of vamps. There was a vamp-friendly bar by the harbor. Just the place for her to go for a good release.
A heat wave had set in. She strolled down the street. Decent folk didn’t go there after dark. Aside from the industrial complex and office towers, the harbor was a dead zone. She took off her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. A little tit always helped lure her prey. Besides, the best way to catch a predator was to lay out a good offering.
As she rounded the corner, a vibration hummed in her eardrums, her personal vampire early warning system. A bouncer stood to the side of the entrance.
She stopped in front of the large doorman.
“I.D.?” he asked.
“Oops.” No way was she giving her name or address. “I forgot it at home.” The ringing in her ear grew to a constant buzz. “I guess I’ll come back another evening then.” She whirled around.
“Wait.”
“Me?” She played coy, turned toward him, and quirked an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” He soaked her in from head to toe. “Let’s not worry about it tonight. I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Aww, you’re such a peach.”
“My pleasure.” He rested his stare on her cleavage.
Men. Most of them weren’t too bright. Flash a little skin, and they forgot to use the bigger head. With a dopey grin, he held the door open.
As she slipped inside, the bang of the door behind her sent a thrill of excitement through her. Empty stairs led down into a room lit with red lights. Vamps were such products of their own clichés.
The teeming crowd of young women saddened her. She couldn’t save them all. Never. Like her, many of them went there seeking the creatures that frequented these places.
The new age song gave the lounge a sophisticated atmosphere, though anyone in their right mind would know this was the bottom of the barrel. Many years ago, the truth about vampires sank in. They were corpses. Dead physically and emotionally, but able to synthesize what mattered by feeding off the living in every way. Newly born vamps enjoyed the numbness––the hollowness made murdering people for food easier. But, then the older fiends missed the emotions. The chance to feel drove them to kill for sport, inflicting pain on their victims. The inner surge of feelings they got from humans was a vampire’s private addiction.
When they were in her mind, she sensed their arousal as they tormented their prey. They sought emotional authenticity. Love, happiness, fear, pain, sadness, anger, and jealousy were the emotions humans possessed, and what vamps had long ago sacrificed for immortality. Ironically, the longer the creatures lived, the more they hungered to experience these sensations.
Since at times she too worried about her own humanity, she understood why it grew to be an obsession.
As she stepped onto the floor, a human male grabbed her, and pulled her into the corner of the room. A struggle would call attention to her, defeating the purpose of her outing.
“Little Bo Peep, have you lost your mind?” His southern twang gave Mr. Tall, Blond and Handsome charm, but he didn’t behave like a gentleman.
Tazrein stared at the grip on her forearm. “Excuse me?” This man had evidently lost his mind. “Do I know you?”
“No, ma’am.” His lean jaw clenched. The scent of polyester and paper weaved in the air.
She’d wager on him being in law enforcement. “Then remove your hand from me or I will.”
He huffed, released her, and made eye contact. Pale sapphires stared into her. You are tired and will head home this instant.
Now this was interesting. He attempted to use the power of suggestion to get her to leave. If vampires could hardly influence her, it was doubtful a human could.
She laughed.
“What?” he asked, his brows creased together.
“Nothing. I just think you’re probably tired and should head home.” Bet that would throw Mr. Wannabe Hero off. “This place isn’t safe for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “For me?” His white dress shirt glowed in the black light. He wore jeans well. “You have no idea the mess you’re in, Bo Peep.”
“I’m in exactly the kind of mess I came here for.” She leaned into him.
He didn’t withdraw, his hand wrapped around her. “Let me get you out of here, I’ll make it worth our while.” His pitch was hoarse. He pressed his length to her leg.
“Coming here always proves worthwhile for me. Good night.” She stepped back, spun, walked over to the bar, and sat down.
Already, the vultures circled.
“What can I get you?” The bartender smiled, fake fangs showing, a wanpire aka wannabe vampire. He wore tacky black clothing, face painted white, mascara, eyeliner, and nails painted. A death worshipper. The freak had no clue.
“Tequila, a triple round of shots.” She handed him a fifty-dollar bill. Cash left no trace. “Keep the change.”
“For you alone?” A lean, dark haired vamp moved in next to her, his pearly whites gleaming. A blue dress shirt and black slacks gave him a professional appearance, but rotting human fragrance saturating him killed any appeal of his devilish good looks.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s called a pity party.”
“And why would a beautiful woman like you need one of those?” The velvet tone of the vamp’s voice served to draw victims in.
She smiled at the easy flattery. “I got a call for an interview, but I’ve got no one to celebrate with. The usual sappy story.” Some truth mixed with lies, which made the information she gave vampires believable without compromising her.
The server set the shot glasses and filled one after the other, with a pouring stream of liquor.
“I can’t have the pretty lady drinking alone. Set me up to match.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and set it down.
“You don’t have to.” She waved him off.
“I know. I want to. It’s not every night I get to rescue a damsel.”
Most wouldn’t note the use of night over day. He wasn’t a young fiend. Hence, he sought the challenge in the room and not the easy target.
“I didn’t realize I appeared in need of saving, like a helpless lamb surrounded by wolves.”
“Not in the least. More like a panther about to give this wolf a run to the finish. Shall we?” He lifted the shot glass to his lips and downed the liquid.
“Bottoms up.” She brought the rim to her mouth and sucked back the fiery fluid.
“Tell me your name.” His mental touch entered her mind.
She long ago learned to protect her psyche from the manipulation. The intrusion felt like ice water dripping down her scalp. Things were about to get exciting. She loved when they used all their skills to get their way. “Rein.”
“What a sad name, unfitting.” He pressed his index and thumb to her collarbone trailing down between her mounds before squeezing her breast. “Beautiful and real.”
Warmth surged up her core. “Thank you. And you are?”
“Archie. You’re ready for round two.” As he lifted the glass and tossed back the drink, he bid her limb to do the same. “Move in closer to me.”
She shuffled forward. The sense of him controlling her movements swirled a thrill of heat inside. How exhilarating. He willed her to gyrate her hip against the length of his erection.
“Last one.” He raised the shot, and she mirrored his actions. He blinked, sliding away his brown contact lens, which revealed a red haze in his eyes beneath. “You want to come back to my apartment.” Even vampires wore facades in an attempt to blend in.
She nodded at his command.
“Good, it’s not far.” He pointed to the south end.
The cool touch of his fingers slipped through hers.
Goose bumps rose along her arms. He led her up the stairs and out into the night. Peace came over her.
Parked a few yards ahead, on the other side of the deserted road, was a blue van, with emergency plumbing written in white on the sides. The vehicle belonged to the misfits she sometimes called her friends, Gem, Vincent, and John. Hadn’t she told them not to hunt without her?
“What troubles you?”
She forced her lips into a smile. “This is going to sound lame, but I’ve never gone back to a man’s apartment like this.”
“I know.”
“Huh, how?” She tensed her shoulders.
“If you were that type of woman, I wouldn’t be interested. Don’t worry. I’m a gentleman. I won’t do anything you’re not asking for. I’m going to make you feel things you never have, and we’ll both get off. Trust me.”
Strangely ominous. He tugged her into the adjacent building, down a flight of stairs, and unlocked the door. Thick black curtains covered the windows of the spotless space. The furniture gave the appearance of a furnished apartment.
Locks clicked behind her. By her shoulders, he shoved her to the wall. With his lips, he caressed her neck. Excitement mixed inside her. He ripped open her top, spilled her tits from her bra, and suckled.
“Slow down.” Desire and confusion twisted her gut. Could she fuck this corpse and come?
He lifted her, thrusting his cock along her thigh. “Stay still or I’ll hurt you.”
Not if he talked to her this way. “Right, because if I let you have your way with me, you won’t kill me? Come on.”
“Maybe a tiny bit.” He tightened his hold, his fangs appeared, and gleamed.
She shook her head. “Either, I’m alive or I’m not. There’s no such thing as in-between.” Vamps probably thought that was what they were. Anyone with sense knew they were dead; they just didn’t know it, yet. That was where she came in.
“You’re amused by this?” He lifted his brow.
“No, bored.” She drew her shirt closed then crossed her arms.
A knock at the door caused him to turn. “Three humans believe they’ve come to save you.”
If she were into gambling, she would put her money on misfits one through three, Gem, Vincent, and John. “And what do you think of that?”
“They’re fools. I’m going to feast tonight.” He unlocked and pulled it open.
Vincent let off a shot from his crossbow rifle into the creature’s heart. The vamp fell to his knees.
“I trust you three can take it from here?” Tazrein passed the threshold.
John frowned. Even he had lost patience with her.
Gem hurried after her. “Taz, stop.”
“What do you want?” Another lecture was at hand.
“You’re out of control.” Gem pursued.
“Thank you for the psych-eval.” They didn’t get that she wasn’t a talk-her-emotions-out kind of gal.
“Even for the queen bitch you are, you’re losing a grip on reality. Hunting on your own.” The tone of Gem’s voice rose. “We haven’t seen you in weeks, but we find your trail of vamp pools around the city. You need help.”
“I’ve been coddling the three of you for ten years. How many times have you, Vincent, or your father, escalated a situation? Countless. I’m sorry you’ve finally realized what I figured out long ago. This is a game to you, a perverted, dangerous one. I, however, can’t escape the call of the night or the dead.”
Gem stared at her and blinked. “You know what I think? You never wanted that baby and that’s what is eating you up.”
Nothing had been right between her and Gem after Shen proposed. “Her name was Saran.” She marched away. What did any of them understand of what she wanted? Nothing.
Tomorrow’s interview at Pseira Industries was a big step in her new life. That is, if everything went her way. She needed to put her past behind her and focus on a future alone. She’d show these suits who’s boss. She hunted things that went bump in the night. How much trouble could Corporate America be?
Tazrein sped around the corner, her heels clanking echoed on the brick walls that flanked her. But she wasn’t alone. A man followed behind, attempting to conceal his pursuit. She hurried around the block, then the next, and leaned against the building.
The last thing she needed was a run-in with a vigilante. On a rare occasion, some idiot would take the law in his own hands and evaded the vamps long enough to kill a few and piss them off. Those ones were the ones mutilated and left to be found by the authorities.
She removed her double-edged Tanto sword from her purse and put it behind her back. As she slowed her breathing, every sound heightened around her. She waited just past the light on the building.
Her stalker was human. In a jog, his hard-soled shoes pounded the pavement. He stepped into focus. Mr. Wannabe Hero from when she’d arrived at the bar. She didn’t have time for this.
She sighed, stuffed her girl’s second best friend back in her handbag, and walked away.
“Hold up.” He gave chase.
“I’d rather not.”
He grabbed her shoulder. It would be too easy to break his hand. But she didn’t want the authorities coming around asking useless questions. Ones no one wanted an answer to. So she faced him.
“I saw you leave with that guy,” he said.
It was best she find out what he wanted. “And? What about it?”
“Did he act weird?”
“That seems like a strange question coming from you?”
“Did he, you know?”
“You have personal boundary issues,” she said. “No we didn’t have sex.”
He moved in closer. “That’s a pleasant surprise, but not what I’m asking.” He reached for her blouse and slid it away from her neck. “Did he come on too strong? More aggressive than you like?” Then he moved to the other side of her neck and examined the area. His fingers were warm.
She could play this game too. “He was into Femdom. It’s not my thing.”
“What is your thing?” He swallowed hard, shuffling his feet forward.
His light sapphire gaze met with hers. “Rough play, with me on the receiving end.” She retreated to the wall.
He groaned. “I’m willing to play to satisfy.”
The hard length of him pressed to her leg. “Are you now?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He nodded. “I’m going to kiss you unless you say no. If that’s as hot as I think it will be, I won’t stop until we’ve both been satisfied.”
Sex in a dark alley with a strange man. That was something she hadn’t thought to put on her list of to dos.
He brushed his lips to hers. Need surged in her. There was no time to think, to register. Gin coated his lips and tongue as they worked her mouth with masterful abandon.
“I’ll play safe,” he whispered. “Turn around.”
“If you want it, you’ve got to work for it.” She tilted her head while cocking her eyebrow.
The corner of his mouth flipped up on one side. He grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her ass to his crotch, lifted her skirt, and slid his hand beneath.
Heat from his fingers pressed to the lacy panties. “You’re soaked.” Back and forth, he circled her clit.
She jerked against the sensation. Every inch of her burned. She whimpered. The brick wall in front of her contrasted the feel the man touching her. A man she didn’t know. Nor did she care to.
He moved aside the fabric, slick fingers slid between her labia. Her chest rose and fell with effort.
He pushed his finger inside of her, then a second.
She cried out, her inner thighs quivered.
In and out, he pumped inside her. A throaty groan left him.
She gripped the wall with her nails. Heat burst between her legs, elation moved through her. Every inch of her burst with relief. “Mmm.” She had needed that.
“Damn you’re gorgeous and even more so when you come.” He forced his body into her, sliding his hard cock along the flesh of her buttock. “I’m just getting started.”
This was going to be awkward. How did she make a swift exit from this mess? “I’ve got to run…” She rotated her body and picked up her purse. Though she was ending the encounter abruptly, it opened new possibilities. She never thought herself capable of enjoying the touch of a stranger. Maybe she could keep others out of the destructive force in her life. “But thanks for the release.” Most women wouldn’t get her strange sexual preferences. Her dark submissive tendencies. She didn’t even understand them.
“I see.” He definitely sounded pissed.
Actually, it was better for them both if he didn’t see. She darted past the corner of the building, then around the other side, and leaned on the wall.
She sensed him follow after her. Not what she needed right now.
“Let me at least escort you home. The streets aren’t safe, Bo Peep—” He broke off and stopped at the vacant street.
For him they weren’t. For her, it was same old night.
Chapter Two
Reins
Lordel entered his assistant’s office on the top floor of Pseira Industries Headquarters.
Doris sat at her desk humming then glanced at him. “Good Morning, Mr. Pseira.”
The view of Boston harbor out her window had even lost its luster. The sun beamed in, bathing the space in warm light. His skin tightened, burning beneath the rays. Sensitivity to sunlight meant time had run out for him. Minoans were day-walkers. If he could no longer be in the sun, crave drinking blood from flesh, and did not feel, it was a matter of weeks, days, hours or minutes before his transformation was complete.
“To you, as well, Doris.” As he paused, the morning bustle of the office blended behind him. The last thing he needed was another talk with the Minoan council over the hiring of a human in an executive position. “How’s my day looking?” If they failed to put forth a candidate from the ones he had selected for them to interview, he would fire them on the spot, and replace them all with humans. If he could manage not to completely transform until after the human was hired, he would have set his people down the right path.
“Busy.” She grinned. “You have a nine o’clock meeting with Tazrein Noir. Her file is on your desk. A call with Eros Pseira at our Middle Eastern branch office—”
“What of the other candidates?” He tilted his head.
“It’s the name I was given by the hiring board for you to meet with.” Why is he surprised? Doris’s thoughts bombarded Lordel’s mind. He picked her. Something on that resume stood out to him. She widened her eyes. Of course, Mr. Pseira wasn’t here yesterday to see Ms. Noir. But anyone who had might think it was the reason she got through to the next step... She shook her head. I’ve been here long enough to notice young women aren’t hired to work on the executive floor. I’ve never seen them even flirt with a woman. Except for Kalibe. If the rest of them are light in the loafers, who cares. “Sir, shall I continue with your itinerary?”
She thought he was gay. Humans and their narrow view on sexuality. “So, Ms. Noir is the candidate the hiring board has put forward for me to meet with?” Based on the pheromones he had noted from the infinitesimal drop of blood on her resume, he should not be surprised that she was attractive.
As she nodded, her eyes bulged. “The only candidate.”
Either he liked and hired Ms. Noir, or they would have to start the process all over again. There was no time. If she were not the right candidate to bring a fresh perspective to the executive team of Pseira Industries, everything he had worked for this past year would turn to ash.
“Thank you. I’ll be in my office.” He closed his door. Human thoughts could be a constant distraction, like a radio without an off switch. Doris had an especially active mind.
He put his coat in the closet, took a seat, and turned on his computer.
A sweet scent seized his senses. Ms. Noir. He remembered the elusive aspects from the blood on her CV. Perhaps he had not thought this out. Neither had the hiring board. Or had they? If they did this to force him to change his mind about hiring a human, never mind firing, he would behead them.
He stood.
A beep startled him. “Ms. Noir is here.” Doris’s voice came from the speaker.
“Thank you.” The acceleration of his pulse worried him. He opened the door.
A black shiny ribbon pulled a gorgeous mass of wavy, golden brown hair away from her face. The pigment of her maple skin and velvety texture begged for his touch. Her eyes were the color of steel with just a hint of yellow woven through. Her irises contracted. Humans did not use such predatory methods of evaluation. What else was different about her?
Ms. Noir scooped up a leather bag. Her white blouse accentuated her abundant breasts. The fabric dipped in and hugged her narrow waist. Her tight, black leather skirt clung to wide hips. The woman had inviting curves. She seamlessly balanced on five-inch heels bound by black leather straps. Silver buckles gleamed in the light.
Overwhelmed, his legs trembled. He stabilized himself by clenching the doorknob.
She extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Tazrein Noir.”
“It is nice to meet you, Ms. Noir.” He let go of the door, unsure if he should risk touching her, then made contact. “Lordel Pseira.” Slowly, he released his grip from her confident grasp, his fingers lingering a few milliseconds longer. “Please come into my office and have a seat.” He moved aside to let her pass.
As she strolled past, her hips and bottom swayed, which was icing on the cake.
He glanced at Doris, who grinned knowingly, and shut the door.
Ms. Noir was not broadcasting her thoughts.
He ventured into her mind and came upon the psychic equivalent of a brick wall. Human telepaths were common enough. One self-aware enough to build a mental block to the entrance of her mind. None he had met. Her list of assets grew.
“Before we start would you like something to drink?” Lordel gestured to a refreshment nook near the panoramic windows with a harbor view.
She reached into her black leather carrying case and pulled out a bottle of water. “I’m good, thank you, but if you need something, please, don’t hold back on my account.”
Do not hold back on her account? He could not act on his desire to sink his teeth into her smooth skin and drink the life fluid from her veins. Forget the illegality, due to a law he had decreed some twenty-eight years ago. Her memories would be too messy to erase and ensure she did not remember. What misfortune.
“I’m fine.” Not exactly truthful. “What prompted you to apply for this job, Ms. Noir?” Pointless for him to go through the tedious questions Human Resources provided. The most important factor was whether she could hold her own and bring a refreshed perspective to the executive table.
“Curiosity. The unusual ad intrigued me. Dream team seeks new member is not your average listing.”
Being CEO afforded him certain eccentricities.
She smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “I’ve done my research. Pseira Industries was one of the first companies to give away life-saving drugs to impoverished nations and is a world leader on environmental policies. Being a part of a multi-billion-dollar company with values like those is something to be proud of. It seemed to me like the ideals of a visionary and I respect that.”
He was proud of the company that he and the council built from the ground up. It fulfilled many needs for his race: money, integration, access to blood, and human genetics. They no longer had to lure humans. Many humans gave of themselves in the name of science and the betterment of humanity.
“Are you dissatisfied with your current job?”
“On the contrary, I have a secure job and the money is good,” she said. “I’m no longer challenged by my role. It’s better to move on before I become unhappy.”
If only he could do that. Turning into a vile creature or death were his only ways out. “What are your expectations of the position?”
“If I accept an offer as Head of Public Relations, I don’t want to be lied to. I’ll quit immediately. Nor will I be a puppet, and have someone else telling me how to do my job.”
He froze. Her affirmation was not something he came across often. A woman who set the rules did make an interesting challenge. Though his patience for modern independent women on a personal relationship level was nil, he found them admirable in the boardroom. Often more willing to go the extra mile than their male counterparts.
“I’m not in the habit of hiring a spokesperson. That will be your job, should you decide you want the position. Of course, you will first have to pass our stringent security clearance.” He leaned back in his chair. Not bad, her presence calmed him despite her arousing scent.
A flush rushed to her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pseira, I thought I just heard you say that it will be my job to hire a spokesperson?” She straightened.
He smiled. “Please, call me Lordel, and if you want the job it is yours.” He met her stare.
“Yes, I want the job.”
“Great. I’ll call Mr. Elson, Head of Security, and have him go over all the necessary steps with you.” He rose and stopped next to his desk. “Once security has cleared you, Bill, Head of HR, will draw up your contract.” Leaning over, he hit the speaker button on his phone.
Tazrein gazed lowered to his mid-section, a smile quirked the corners of her mouth.
Lordel had never been “checked out” quite so blatantly. It seemed he met with her approval physically. If she looked at him in this way, it could prove to be distracting. “Doris, have Mr. Elson join us immediately. Please.”
Tazrein smiled.
“On your first day, we’ll hold a full board meeting, so you can be briefed on each member and their portfolio. I believe you met Kalibe, Head of Research and Development, Mark, Head of International and Domestic Investments, and Bill, Head of Human Resources. I will have them each present the direction they are headed in. Then I will meet with you to explain in more detail my vision for Pseira Industries. I will be available to you on site for the first week or so.”
“The person you are replacing died quite suddenly,” he continued. “His assistant is now your best source of information. If for any reason you don’t feel you can work with Joan, we will move her, and you can make alternative arrangements.” He sensed Mr. Elson arrive and glanced at the door.
“I remember from the newspaper a drinking and driving accident last year. Mr. Trusa and a young woman, Ms. Campbell, both died. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Mr. Elson is here,” Doris said over the speakerphone.
She turned toward the doorway.
Lordel pushed a button. “Send him in.”
The handle turned and the door opened.
She stood.
“Mr. Elson, I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Noir. Ms. Noir, this is Mr. Elson, Head of Security.”
Mr. Elson extended his hand.
As she rose to meet Mr. Elson, Lorded detected a note of expediency in her movements. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Noir. I’ll be personally handling your file.” He released her hand and smiled too broadly for Lordel’s liking.
She cleared her throat. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance too, thank you.”
There was something he did not enjoy about her being near Mr. Elson. “I’ll put your start date as three weeks from Monday. Mr. Elson will take you to his office.”
She made her way to him and held out her hand. “I look forward to working with you, Mr. Pseira.”
Lordel smiled as he held her grip, then released. “As do I, Ms. Noir.”
Mr. Elson gestured toward the door. “After you.”
Her lips parted wide to a grin.
It was more than something. He did not want those two near one another.
Chapter Three
Touched By Light
Mr. Elson sensed Ms. Noir was heading to the common hall of the executive floor of Pseira Industries. He planned to intercept, to test the waters. An interesting and puzzling aspect about her was the lack of thoughts broadcasting from her mind. He wanted to find out if the other council members had noticed this too. But he didn’t want to draw attention to his interest. A side effect of being a man of few beds—technically if intercourse was the entire world’s preoccupation he’d been a man of no beds—any mention on his part of a woman caused all those around him to speculate.
Her tight ankle length navy skirt shortened her stride.
He adjusted his pace.
Her black Cuban heels cradled her feet, giving her another four inches. A rose satin camisole fit snug to her mounds and tapered at her waist. A tailored matching navy jacket did nothing to hide the curvaceous lines of her body.
Ms. Noir shoved her BlackBerry into her purse and met his gaze. Her lips broadened to a smile that warmed her light grey eyes. Lovely. It was the only word that encompassed all of her. There was no question about her beauty. The harmonious way about her sealed his opinion.
“Mr. Elson, are you going to give blood?”
The Tuesday Blood Drive… Her second day on the job and she was already adopting the corporate culture of giving back and making a difference for others. Too bad he didn’t do well with needles.
“I was going to go a little later,” he said, attempting not to sound evasive.
“That’s unfortunate. I was hoping you’d show me the way. Joan says the eleventh floor can be somewhat of a maze.”
Wait a second. She was giving him a reason for them to continue chatting. “Where are my manners? It would be my pleasure to show you the way.” He wasn’t the smoothest of operators with women, but he’d done better. There was that disco diva he’d taken out a few times in the seventies. “This way.” He gestured toward the elevator.
“Thank you.” She fell in step next to him. “I appreciate it.”
The doors opened, she walked on, and he followed. He pressed the button for the eleventh floor. The bell dinged and the doors closed. They were alone.
If he ventured into her mind, would he be invading her mental privacy? He got that she was a telepath. They were the only ones that didn’t broadcast live and direct twenty-four seven. But every now and then something would slip out. A word. A thought. A strong emotion. Not once had there been a peep from her subconscious while he was in her presence. If her mind was this closed off, she had to have her reasons. It was none of his business. He hadn’t the right to impose his desire to know on her.
The whole point of going with her was to talk, and he was mulling over his actions or lack thereof. “How are you finding the team, so far?” Good job, put her on the spot.
“It’s only day two.” She turned toward him with a smile. “I’m sure we are all in the honeymoon stage. Once I start shaking things up, I’ll be on better footing to answer that.”
Speaking of feet. There was something edgy about her choice of shoes. Risqué even. A hint of something sexually dark. It could be his overactive imagination. It might even be how they contrasted her attractive feminine ensembles with a punk flare. Not that he understood much about women’s fashion.
“So far, no sharp teeth.” She grinned.
What had she just said? “Sharp teeth?”
“Yes, you know, fangs and claws.” She nodded.
Could she be onto them? Which of their behaviors had given them away? This was a disaster.
“It’s a dog-eat-dog world.” With a shrug, she smoothed back her hair.
His chest depressed in relief. “It will be interesting to watch.”
“I noticed you were quiet during the meeting.”
“I don’t particularly enjoy board meetings.” Everyone wanting to give themselves a pat on the back rubbed him the wrong way. “It’s a personal preference. I’d rather be one-on-one.”
She exhaled a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Had his words come off like an innuendo? It hadn’t been intentional. Not to say he wouldn’t enjoy some one-on-one time with her.
The bell for the floor dinged and the door panels opened.
“After you,” he said.
“It will be difficult for you to lead if I go first.”
The story of his life when it came to women. “Touché.” He strode out and awaited her.
Once she was beside him, he walked down the hall. The noon feeding frenzy had begun and the human staff headed to lunch. People parted as they saw them.
“Did you, Lordel, Kalibe, Mark, and Bill go to the same school?”
This was one of the reasons he hated the charade. Everything he would tell her was a lie. “Why do you ask?”
“You all talk a lot alike.” She shrugged. “A little distant, as though English isn’t your native tongue.”
This was exactly what he kept trying to point out to Lordel. “It’s not.” Please let her leave it at that. It wasn’t like he could tell her about starting off speaking Minoan then moving onto Latin. Nor the thirteen other languages he’d learned before most recently English. “Here we are.”
The young lady behind the counter looked up. “Ah, sir, Mr. Elson, umm, would you please complete this form and her too.”
“Thanks.” He suppressed his amusement.
A larger woman came from behind the curtain. “Well, well… look who’s here.” Mildred, Kalibe’s executive assistant, crossed her arms. “Four and a half years I’ve been trying to get you down here. It seems to me someone has more persuasive methods than I do.”
Mr. Elson swallowed with difficulty. Leave it to Mildred to lay out his interest for everyone to see.
Ms. Noir crushed her lips together.
“Come on back, there are two spots side by side.”
That wasn’t a good idea. “I can wait.” The last thing he needed was to faint in front of the woman he was attempting to seem normal to.
“Not a chance.” Mildred tugged him by the arm.
Ms. Noir sat, and he slid into the seat next to her.
Mildred leaned into Ms. Noir’s ear and her eyes darted to him as she nodded. At what point had he lost control of this situation? The moment he’d agreed to go to the blood clinic.
“Watch him,” Mildred said, exiting.
He completed his sheet to avoid seeing her response. Two nurses came in. He gripped the arms of his chair. He couldn’t do this. There were many things he could do with ease, like sever a head, use torture to interrogate, and kill with his bare hands, but dealing with a needle wasn’t one of them.
“Hey, don’t sweat it.” Tazrein extended her hand, and covered his. “I’ll go first.”
It was such a simple, yet comforting gesture. He met her eyes. The corners held the brightness of her smile.
She pulled away, paused, hovered, then retracted her hand.
He’d drawn too much attention to his surprise at her touch. Part of him had left with her caress and would only be there when she touched him.
As instructed by the nurse, Tazrein fisted her hand. The woman wrapped a rubber band around her arm. A large vein pulsed beneath her skin.
His arm was being prepped. He paid it no mind, focusing on Tazrein’s every movement. As she relaxed, her breathing slowed, and she closed her eyes. Her other hand rested on the arm of the chair. He wanted to reach over and touch her smooth fingers.
The nurse pushed the tip of the pointed metal into her skin, breaking past the outer layers of flesh. Blood flowed into a tube. Her scent reached him. An alluring hint of serenity—like lilacs on a breeze scintillated his senses. Every part of him tensed with want.
“Relax your muscles.” His nurse tapped his arm.
“Ouch.” He found his nurse rooting around for a vein with the needle’s tip beneath his skin. Thankfully, he was seated, or he would have met with the floor.
“I can’t get a vein.” She retracted the metal point. “I’ve attempted three times now so it’s not going to happen.”
Her tone made it sound like he wasn’t performing in bed. At least what he’d seen of it in movies. Anytime he’d intended for a woman to come she had. Numerous times when he’d been inclined to continue. Fingers and lips could work wonders. Some of the women enjoyed that he wasn’t all about penetrating them until… They realized he would not advance the intimacy to that level. Then it was all they could think of and obsessed about it, inevitably forcing him to retreat. The stranger part still was that he thought of being inside Tazrein with his penis. Her on top, taking him into her. It hadn’t been like this with the others. Sure, he’d been fascinated, but the act always seemed so invasive—intrusive—violent like assault. Only recently had the women’s movement created a generation of women able to assert their sexual needs. Lordel had called a spade a spade. Usually once his own physical needs for a woman surfaced, he was haunted by the act he was a product of, his mother’s rape.
“Are you okay?” Tazrein faced him and set her hand on his lap.
Her elegant fingers shot warmth from his thigh to his groin.
“I’m sorry.” She retracted her hand abruptly.
“Don’t be.” He spun toward her, wanting to be so bold as to stop her withdrawal. “I’m thankful for the gesture. I’m fine.” Three Band-Aids covered the area of his arm that the nurse had massacred. “Needles and I have a long history of not mixing well.”