April Rankin's Blog: Hi-jacked by the Muses of Writing!

He tied me to the bed.

Of all the horrifying images of torment that my mind conjured, this wasn’t in there. My hands are bound, which limits my use of magic.

I’m spread-eagle, face down, my limbs tied to bedposts. His bedposts. And around my left wrist is a magic-nullifying band. So there goes any magic I did have control of without Lucky.

If not for the crazed demon wandering around cursing my name, I could almost believe this was some kind of kinky foreplay. After all, demons like it rough. And kinky. Nevermind. Demons like it any way they can get it. Period.

“Are you ready to remove this hex?”

I jump at his voice next to my ear. Hadn’t he been on the other side of the room seconds ago slamming drawers and cursing?

“Are you ready to admit I had nothing to do with your current predicament?” I reply, stubbornly. “And when a certain Fury finds out you’ve witch-napped me, she’s going to nail your balls to the wall. With a railroad spike. And you still attached.”

He chuckles. “Do you think me completely incapable of a tidy little kidnapping? I did my research. I took…precautions with your friend.”

My blood chills. First Lucky. Now Tara. Did he kill her too? So help me, if he did anything to hurt her, I would personally peel the flesh from his bones. “What. Did. You. Do?”

I feel his shrug next to me. “I may have set up a few…distractions. The Furaie do so love their pets. It’s a shame hers was just so mortal.”

My claws dig into my palms, drawing blood. “If you’ve harmed one hair on Kasey’s head, I’ll make you eat your own entrails. And when they grow back, I’ll hang you with them. After Tara makes you wish you’d never been born.”

He snorts. “Please. Your threats mean nothing to me. I have no reason to hurt that child. She’ll be dead in a mere blink of the eye anyway, what with such a finite lifespan. Why do you automatically assume I would harm an innocent child?”

“I’m innocent!” I shout. “Lucky was innocent!”

“Your bug’s name was Lucky? Of all the-” he sighs and moves into view, raking a hand through his hair. His amber eyes flicker black. “You had to have known your crime against me would meet with punishment.”

But Lucky? He had just been a tiny bug. An innocent insect. “Release me, and I will forget you ever did this to me.”

He shakes his head. “Not until you remove this hex.”

I clamp my jaw shut, tired of telling the stubborn ass that I had no part in his forced abstinence.

“No? Then let the torment commence.”

I feel his hand at my nape, tracing a claw down my spine, slicing through my halter’s strap then between my shoulder blades down to the top of my skirt. Riiip. He slowly tears the leather, splitting it from the waist down, baring the globes of my ass.

Shame. That was my favorite skirt.

He inhales and I stiffen when one of his fingers dips under the string that nests between my cheeks.

“This is what you had on under that? Anyone could have looked up your skirt to see what you flaunted.”

“That’s the idea, demon. Temptation and easy access.” In reality, these things make me feel sexy. There are advantages to dressing like this. The slack-jawed, eye-popping looks I get walking down the street, for one thing. I like attention. So what?

He trails his fingers over my ass, allowing me to feel the sharp tips of his claws. I shiver, but not from fear. This man had found every sensitive spot on and in my body that night so long ago. He’d been good. Very good.

“I remember the night you were riding my fingers to climax, your tight little pussy shuddering around them as you bellowed my name. Tell me, do you still think of that night?” One long finger dips down, sliding over the thin fabric, seeking my damp heat.

I can’t hold back the gasp as he nears it, senses heightening as if I crave his touch. “Which night would that be? There’s been a long line of demons at the foot of my bed lately.”

He stiffens, an barely-controlled growl rattling his chest. “I suppose I’ll have to remind you. You were eye-fucking me as soon as you walked into the bar. By the end of the night, you had theat sweet pussy against my mouth, my tongue deep in your little quim, your little clit on my fangs.”

Oh, dear gods. I’m not going to survive this.


*Coming Dec 30, 2014

Cael. Both the solution and root of all my problems. You would think by now that I wouldn't be surprised by anything he says or does, but I never know what to expect from him.

I am overwhelmed by the emotional turmoil roiling through me. After everything Elethan put me through, not to mention my worry about Shea, the coming war, and how the hell I am going to find the people Lachesis claims I need, he could at least give me a break.

But no. I feel him standing at my back before I see him. It's almost like being smothered, like he takes every ounce of air out of the room and leaves the rest of us wanting and breathless.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"You know nothing of war," he answers.

The damn man has a way with words. Not. "I know enough." I won't look at him.
There are just too many things left unsaid between us and if I turn to look at him, I will feel every bit of it break through the dam I've built to hold it back.

"You do not. You've never had to fight. You don't know what it means to lead an army into battle, unsure if you are leading them to their death or victory."

My back stiffens. Has he already forgotten that I am the one who led the Goyles against an army of Fomori? Has he forgotten that I defeated a dragon? Has he already forgotten what I did just yesterday against Elethan? "I defeated the Fomori, a dragon, and had Elethan at my fingertips yesterday. Oh, and it must have slipped your mind that I kicked your ass."

"I forget nothing. You defeated the Fomori and the dragon because your Prime helped. And you did not kick my ass. I let you win before you hurt yourself proving a point."

"Let me win? You let me win?" Before I knew it, I whirled on him, forgetting the reasons why I shouldn't meet his eyes. but, damnit, he pisses me off like no one else can. "What's your point, Cael? Did you come out here just to kick me while I'm down? Have I not suffered enough to meet your standards as queen?"

His lips lift in a snarl. "You don't know the meaning of suffering, Makeanna. What Elethan put you through is nothing. A little discomfort, if that. He didn't break you. And if it didn't kill you..."

"Let me guess, it only made me stronger."

"No. That's bullshit. Strength doesn't come from being weak. It comes from the deepest, darkest pit of your soul." His hands band around my biceps as he drags me closer to him. "Strength comes when you realize you have nothing left and still go on. It isn't made by actions and words, it's found in the midst of death and destruction. And you," he bites off a humorless laugh, "you aren't strong."

I jerk away from him, wondering why he persists in hurting my feelings over and over. "And you think you are? You are an egotistical, arrogant, hypocritical asshole. I don't know how you managed to keep my people alive under your rule."

He stares at me with flat eyes, one eyebrow cocked up slightly, almost imperceptibly. "I didn't give a fuck about those people."

I snort. "Then why did you do it? Why take over everything just so that I had a place to come back to?"

He lowers his head, his nose almost touching mine, lips twisted cruelly. “Let me guess. You've concluded that I’m really a hero at heart. That deep down, I’m really a good person and I did what I did because of some sense of loyalty or honor. Fuck honor. Honor gets you killed. Loyalty enslaves you. Heroes are eventually defeated. Don’t get me confused with some pathetic idea of a knight on a white horse. I’m not that man. I’ll never be that man.”

Abruptly, he releases me and steps back. I barely manage to catch myself once his support is gone. “I am fully aware of that. Tell me, when do you plan on making your vows to me? I have no idea if you are on my side or against me any longer. I don’t want your fucking loyalty, but I need to know whether you plan on sabotaging every attempt I make at winning this war.”

Some of the hostility suddenly leaves him. His hair stands in disarray when he rakes his fingers through it. My own fingers curl, imagining the strands against my palm. No. That’s not who he is to me any longer. Since coming out of Elethan’s spell, Cael has been pushing me away, effectively adding a distance between us that has nothing to do what happened to me at the hands of that monster.

“I’m not against you. I was never against you,” he says vehemently. “I’m trying to keep you alive. Oiphos! You want vows, pretty words that make you feel as if I am trustworthy and honorable. Remember what I said about honor? Do you want me to swear to die for you? Because I won’t. Fuck that. I will fucking kill for you. I will give my protection, my sword, my bloody soul to keep you safe. If that means keeping you from seeking out the Book of Shadows or participating in a fucking war then by the gods, I will do so.”

It’s more of a confession from him that I ever thought to get. Until now, I've always expected him to turn on me. That primal part of him is always so close to the surface. Like a wild animal, a tiger that has been trained and domesticated, at its heart, it is still wild and feral. It drives him, ensures that everyone else around him takes notice and obeys. It’s that part of him that I thought would easily throw me to the wolves if it meant saving his own skin.

Now I know better. Despite his claims otherwise, he is honorable. It’s easy to die for someone. The hard part is living for someone. Although his vow isn't what I expected, it’s more than enough to prove I am right about him. Again, the vision of him being stabbed during my abduction swims before my eyes. The way he had looked at me. The intensity of his eyes while he watched me being taken away. I’ll never forget it. It’s branded into my skull. He’d been so adamant that I make it back to him, almost as if he…cared.

I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut to clear my head. When I open them again, he is staring at me with a darkening gaze. “I need to know about the book, Cael. It’s the only way we can win.”

“No. You aren't prepared for what you will face in that tower.”

It really doesn't matter if I’m prepared or not. It’s happening. A war is coming straight to my doorsteps and I will do what I must. “You promised.”

“I also promised to keep you alive.”


Through the Veihl, coming autumn, 2013
April Rankin