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Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

She blinked her eyes a few times trying to decipher what had just happened. She knew this greyscale world all too well, but what she didn’t know is why she and Liam were randomly transported back here.

“How did we get here?” she asked as she continued to look at the meadow that in her world was full of bright and beautiful colors, but now looked bland and boring.

“Your guess is as good as mine lil’ witch.”

Saraid turned in Liam’s arms and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring his lips down to hers, allowing herself to get swept up by the feel of his full lips on hers. His hands instinctively clutched the small of her back in response.

“Well, we came to the cottage for privacy. Doesn’t get much more private than this,” she teased.

A devious grin decorated his handsome features as he grabbed her hand and took off at a run, pulling her behind them until they were in the cabin once more. Liam leaned into Saraid slowly, hovering above her mouth a mere second before diving into the worlds most sensual and all too consuming kiss.

Saraid leaned her head back, giving him further access to her mouth. He was walking her backward until she was stopped by a wooden table against the far wall. He grasped her hips and lifted her, so she sat on the table, with him slightly bent between her legs.

His hand fisted her hair at the nape of her neck while his other hand parted her thighs. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she could hear the blood pumping in her ears. She was in sensory overload. She is missing something. Something important, but the problem was that she just didn’t know if she cared to remember at all. Liam was setting fire to her soul with every caress of his finger in her slit. She found herself moving her hips on his hand to quicken the strokes.

“Come for me lil’ witch.”

That was it. Her panic flared a split second before her hands flew out, pushing him off her. She watched as he flew across the room and landed with a heavy thud.

“Where is Liam?” Saraid demanded as she smoothed her hands over her clothes.

“I am here, Princess.”

“That’s the wrong answer!”

She could feel her anger mingling with her fear and the result of the union never bode well for the one responsible for the reaction. The man made a move to stand and Saraid held her palm up to face him, leaving him frozen mid-climb.

“You are most definitely not my husband. I will admit that you almost had me fooled but I pay attention to the details. One of my men calls me lil’ witch, but not Liam. Now I ask you again, where is he?”

“It’s me, Saraid.”

She had enough of this. With a subtle flick of her wrist she had the man pinned against the wall, her magic coursing through him looking for the slightest shred of truth in his words. There was none to be found.

“Tell me where he is, or I will let my magic sear through your skin and burn you alive from the inside out.”

She felt her power strengthen until it coursed through every vein in her body until it felt as hot as her anger. There was a brief look of panic on the mans face before he allowed his head to fall forward with what looked like shame.

“I do not wish to hurt you, Saraid,” he said just barely above a whisper.

His statement gave her pause for a moment. “An odd thing to say considering.”

Her hold on him was weakening and it took a few seconds for her to realize what was happening. His eyes were glowing green, their brightness increasing with every passing second, until suddenly her magic had been snuffed out. She fell to the floor where she had stood and the last thing she saw was two booted feet drawing nearer.


“Damn it!” he yelled into the empty room around them. He hadn’t meant for things to go like that. He simply wanted to talk to her, to let her know that they were on the same side. Something about her draws him in and it frustrated him that she had that affect on him. It complicated things.

Everyone always thought the worst of him because of what he is, and he was hoping that she would be different considering her reputation of fighting for equality. He was determined to make her see that he was not an evil man. He wasn’t sure why her opinion mattered, but he wanted her to like him. He wanted her to crave his touch the way he now craved hers.

That episode earlier gave him a glimpse into what it would be like to have her writhing on his cock. The memory alone gave him another rock-hard erection. He glanced over at her, unconscious and now tied to the table. He was sure that this wasn’t going to help further his cause, but he had to immobilize her hands. That flight she had given him earlier had hurt like hell and he was positive that he didn’t want that to happen again.

She was beginning to stir. Her head swung from side to side as she cried. “Wendy. I’m here. Don’t go!”

“Whoever this Wendy is must be important to her,” he thought to himself. He made a note to ask about her if she would ever give him the chance to prove himself to her.

Another sound brought his attention back to her. She was awake and glaring at him with eyes full of hatred. He brushed it off. He had grown accustomed to that look. He received that look for everyone these days. He offered Saraid a gentle smile as he crossed the room to sit in the chair beside the table she was chained to.

“I do apologize for my behavior earlier. I don’t know what came over me. I transported you back here to talk to you not to hurt you. I mean you no harm, I give you my word.”

He wished she would stop looking at him that way. He can see that she is good, he can taste her goodness in the aura. It bothered him that just his presence could elicit this kind of reaction from a good person.

“Then let me go.”

“As much as I would love your company, I have no intention of keeping you against your will. I will untie you if you agree to hear me out.

He noticed that she seemed to be contemplating his request. Whenever she looked lost in thought she pursed her lips and chewed on her cheek.The action made her fangs more prominent. He envisioned those fangs piercing his neck as she massaged his erection in her hand. He shook his head to clear the image and sought her eyes again.

“Do we have an agreement?”

“I will hear you.”

The fact that she didn’t promise not to kill him, or try to anyway, did not go unnoticed, but he decided it best to trust her anyway. He crossed the room and released her restraints. He stepped back quickly just in case she decided to last out upon her release, but she simply sat up, rubbing her wrists and glaring at him with her beautiful silver-grey eyes.

He had heard the rumors that she had been coupled with a Vampire. The rumors left out that the Vampire was an ex-Guardian and that they shared each other’s magical abilities or certain physical attributes. His eyes wandered up and down her slight figure and took in the black tribal markings of the Guardianship. Only the leaders bore those marks and he found himself curious as to how she got them.

“How is it that you bear the mark of Guardian leadership?”

He couldn’t take the look of disdain she shot him just then. She didn’t like him and probably never would and that thought bothered him more than it should have.

“I agreed to hear you out not answer your questions.”

He smiled. He would have replied the same in her situation. He seated himself on the corner of the table furthest from her and looked into her eyes so full of hatred.

“Fair enough,” he sighed, “My name is Graten. I am the result of an affair between an Incubus and the keeper of souls.”

He watched as her eyes widened with an expression of mixed emotions that he was unable to decipher, except for one, disbelief.

“I thought your name was Reaper?”

Oh, how he hated that nickname. The residents of Dublin could be quite cruel when they wanted to be. He couldn’t help what he was. He had no say in who his parents were. He never met his father, but he assumed he had to be a sadistic bastard to have ever been involved with his evil incarnate, bitch of a mother.

“That was a rather cruel nickname given to me by the people you hold so dear. I was judged even before birth and labeled as the reaper due to my parentage.”

He noticed that her look of hatred had softened just a fraction. There was still hope and his heart leapt at the prospect.

“Who are your parents?”

He hung his head. My mothers name was, Alannah, Keeper of Souls. I haven’t the slightest clue as to who my father is. I can only imagine that he must be as bad as her to be able to stand her.”

He knew what her next question would be. It was the same one that always followed after the admission of who is mother was.

“What exactly is the Keeper of Souls, well, what does she do?”

“She was born to gather the souls of the earths dearly departed and keep them until it was time to be reincarnated. I don’t know how she behaved before I was born, but I do know that very seldom was a soul ever actually reanimated. Instead, she fed on them, taking on the magic the bearer once had. As she grew stronger so did her cruelty.”

Saraid looked as if she might be sick. He reached for her and then changed his mind. He settled with a question.

“Are you ok?”

She no longer looked at him with hatred, but instead with sympathy. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, but he would take that look over the latter any day.

“I’ll be fine. So why do the people feel the need to judge you if you had done nothing wrong?”

Here it goes, the final admission that would determine his fate with her. His desire for her alone was completely asinine considering she was a married woman. Oh, how he wished he could have kept up the charade of being Liam for just one full day. He would do anything to spend twenty-four hours doing nothing more than pumping himself in and out of her delicate pussy. He quickly pushed the thought away to prevent the onslaught of a full blown hard on. Lord knows he was already sporting a semi and has been barely able to hide it.

“They more judge my appetite than me,” not letting her ask her next question he continued with, “my incubus requires sex whereas my demonic side requires magic. I cannot feed one without the other because both sides feed at once and it is completely beyond my control.”

He had piqued her interest. Something about his story hit home with her and he found himself wondering which part.

“How does that work exactly?” she asked skeptically.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have to have sex sometimes up to seven times a day, but I can make do with three. It is during climax that the feeding takes place, when the person I’m with is at a complete loss of control. I feed on their magic and they are none the wiser that it is happening.”

He noticed that she had stood and began to back away from him before he had even finished. He made a move to stand but had quickly decided against it out of fear that she would run.

“Please, don’t go.”

She stopped moving. Thank the heavens, she stopped moving.

“For witches, losing our magic costs us our lives. It is the same for all magical beings. You’re telling me that you have to kill people in order to stay alive?”

He was in shock from her statement. He never understood how people he had never met before could harbor so much hate towards him and her question told him why.

“I do not kill the people I bed, I promise you. I didn’t even know that it could kill anyone. The first woman I had ever bed had died, but I always assumed it was a heart attack as she was a great deal older than myself.”

She slowly began to inch closer to him. She was beginning to understand and that was all he could ask of her. He would work on gaining her trust, but that he knew would take time.

“So, why do you hang out here in Purgatory if you are able to travel both ways?”

“I can only step through the veil for short amounts of time. When my mother passed, her responsibility was passed on to me. I am now the Keeper of Souls. Only I do not feed on them. When a person passes, I release a soul to the earth to be recreated into another living being. It keeps the balance between both worlds.”

She nodded her head in acceptance, giving him further hope for the future. That was short lived as she asked another question he hadn’t been expecting, although he should’ve.

“So, is that why you brought me here? To feed on me,” she stepped closer, “and where is Liam? Have you hurt him?”

He raised both palms in defeat as he replied, “Liam is unharmed. I snuck behind him and chained him to a tree. I will give you the key to release him before you leave. As for did I bring you hear to feed on you, No, although I wouldn’t turn away the opportunity to fuck you senseless should you ever ask.”

She crossed that room with vampire speed and the sound of her palm slapping his cheek echoed throughout the empty room.

“Don’t hold your breath!”

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. He wanted to throw her down on the table and taste her sweetness and it took all of his strength to hold himself back. Making an enemy out of her after so much time had been spent on making her an ally wouldn’t be a smart choice.

“I am fighting the urge to throw you down on this table and make you scream my name. I would love nothing more than to watch as you choke on my cock, or watch your sweet tits bounce as your riding me, but I have respected you enough to not act on it. There is something about you that calls to my incubus and makes it damn near impossible to resist you.”

She stopped resisting him. Instead she seemed to be enjoying his admission. He watched cautiously as she allowed her upper body to lean against the hardness of his chest. He could feel her breath on his neck, causing a groan to escape his lips.

“What are you doing to me?” he breathed as she made her way to his mouth, hovering so her breath tickled the sensitive skin of his lips.

His hands released her wrists and moved to the small of her back to pull her further into him. She touched her lips to his, sending little volts of electricity through him that immediately had his erection pushing against the denim fabric of his jeans. Her lips moved with accuracy and experience as her tongue broke the barrier of his mouth and teased his own. He couldn’t resist her anymore.

“I want you, Saraid. If you keep this up, I won’t be able to fight it anymore.”

Her reply was a deeper thrust of her tongue into his mouth. “Fuck it!” he thought to himself right before he picked her up and not so gently laid her out on the table. He grabbed the waist of her jeans and tugged them down until they hit the floor. Still now signs of protest from her. He hadn’t expected to get what he wanted so soon. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Wasting no time, he began to work on the clasps of her bra right before ripping off the tiny lace fabric that had once been a thong.

“Are you sure?” He found it hard to believe that someone as beautiful and caring as their Queen would so willingly bed him after everything, she had learned about him just minutes ago.

She didn’t answer him. No, instead she took his cock in her hands, squeezing ever so lightly, and began to massage it with an upward, downward motion.

“Oh, fuck!” he gasped, reveling in the feel of her touch.

“Are we going to talk or are you going to fuck me like you wanted?”

A loud grunt escaped him as he pushed her back down and moved to climb over her. He stilled, his erection prodding at the opening of her wetness, and looked down at her. Something was wrong. His whole attraction to her outside of her physical beauty was the way she carried herself. She was not the type to fuck just anyone. No something was seriously wrong here.

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