Desire Into Gold

DESIRE INTO GOLD by

RaeLynn Blue

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright © 2007 by Nicole Kurtz Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. ISBN 978-1-59374-794-7

Credits Cover Artist: Nancy Donohue Editor: Chere Gruver Printed in the United States of America

Dedication For Christopher

Prologue “Turn it out, Frank,” growled Howie the Hand, as he racked the white and blue chips toward his overlapping gut. His sweat-stained shirt, rolled up to the shoulders, revealed pink slabs of upper arms that barely moved as his forearms did all the work. “You got to be the most unluckiest bastard human this side of Humania.” Frank Miller just let it go. Roll off his shoulders as it were, because Howie the Hand may be a troll—that alone would have forced Frank to keep his mouth shut—but toss in the fact he was Kingston Jones’ bodyguard, well, that settled any debate over whether or not to reply. “Come on,” Howie waved a hand the size of a carriage tire. “Give me the rest of your chips…” Frank swallowed the now gigantic-sized lump in his throat. He tried to move the emotional chunk down to its rightful place, but discovered his mouth had gone too dry to do so. Larry the Licker glanced at him, his eyes round and without eyelids. He licked his right eye, dampening it with acid green salvia, and said, “You deaf?” Frank, unable to utter any type of answer, shook his head. He stared at the empty spot in front of him on the table 1

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and pondered again how he could have gone through his entire savings within a mere three hours of Humania Hold ’Em. He hastily looked around the table filled with goblins, trolls, and humans. There were only six of them, and Frank knew he’d definitely come out the worst. Had there been a fairy or pixie playing a game, he would have sworn he’d been cheated. But with this crowd, he wasn’t going to argue. Howie leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his even bigger midsection. Across the smoky wisps, he peered at Frank, his lips pressed into a fine line of complete irritation. “You ain’t got it, do you, human?” he sneered, barely moving his lips. Unable to form any words, for the lump seemed to be the only thing barring Frank’s stomach contents from rushing in the wrong direction, he could only nod in fearful agreement. The other players fell silent and the deafening quiet felt to Frank like he had entered a tomb—which didn’t bode well for him. He needed to do something—no, he needed to say something. If he was good at anything, it was talking. “Listen…” Frank stuttered, coughing to dislodge the cold rock of terror in his throat. “We can arrange something— right?” Across the steamy, body odor-infested air, Howie’s eggshaped face nodded slowly, his poofy lips breaking into a grin. Frank shivered. Weren’t grins supposed to comfort people? That sure wasn’t a look of friendship. Dragons must give unicorns that look before they attack them… 2

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Without warning, just as Frank’s thought ended, Howie reached casually across the table and snatched a mountainous fistful of Frank’s tunic. He opened his mouth to protest, but already, Howie had lifted him into the air as he stood up. Howie the Hand stood nearly eight feet tall—small by troll standards, but he was still growing. Swinging like a horribly mistreated doll, Frank’s legs weren’t even close to the floor as they made their way through the throngs of thirsty, greed-chasing customers. The Slots of Fun Castle Casino patrons barely gave them a fleeting look as Howie dragged him from the darkly lit poker room and out onto the crowded casino floor, past security headquarters, which consisted of several more massive trolls with matching blue tee-shirts that read SECURITY in black, bold lettering, and on to see “The Man.” Howie wasn’t gentle with Frank and he banged Frank into machines, poles, and patrons who weren’t watching where they were going. Frank howled in pain and Howie laughed. Up the center staircase and to the top tier of the six-floor hotel and casino they went, with Frank’s mind whirling on how he’d get out of this fix and Howie mistreating him with each opportunity he received. “You don’t screw over Mister Jones,” Howie grunted, nearly out of breath, as he reached the top of the sixth floor landing. “You gonna get it from him.” He dropped Frank unceremoniously to the red-carpeted floor with a thump. Landing on his rear, Frank got slowly to his feet. His backside screamed in protest. 3

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“On the other side of that door is your worst nightmare,” Howie said, his voice booming in the rather small foyer in front of the office. He drew his index finger across his neck and pointed at Frank. Frank didn’t need words to know what that meant. Howie roared all the more in laughter at the expression on Frank’s face. “Serves you right, deadbeat!” With that, he pressed the doorbell and within moments, a throaty voice asked, “What is it?” “Sorry to bother you, sir. But this guy here can’t pay his tab.” Howie jerked his thumb at Frank, as if the door could see him. “Thought you’d want to handle it.” “How much is he in for?” the voice asked calmly, with an undercurrent of hostility. “Be accurate.” “Four treasure chests full,” Howie said, the mocking tone draining from his voice and a fine thread of terror crept into his substantial facial features. Silence. Frank looked at Howie, but Howie’s eyes were on the two oak doors. His hands anxiously moved in circles. The massive being had hunched over as if anticipating the scolding to come. Finally, a crackling sound and the voice spoke again. “Send—him—in.” Although a command, the voice held the same calm tone that contained a lightening current of rage snuggled inside the comfy tenor. “Yes, sir!” Howie replied and ran off, back down the stairway—each step took four stairs at a time with ease. “What the heck am I going to do?” Frank asked aloud. His stomach rolled into a tight knot of protest. He swore to him4

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self as he heard the voice beckon him to enter. Visions of his former glee as he traded chests of gold coins for pails of blue and white chips flickered to the forefront of his mind. This was unlike any office Frank had ever seen. He didn’t really know what he expected to reside on the other side of the doors, but it surely wasn’t this. He walked through the foyer, with its creamy washed ceiling that contained round skylights the size of carriage wheels. Tones of red, black and ivory dominated the area, from the rugs to the accessories of vases, sofas and chairs. There was no desk to speak of. The space resembled a lounge, complete with a miniature bar, glass, stylish sofas and satin and silk fabrics all tossed together in Humania hip. Seated beneath a life-sized painting of a nude nymph with sleek sea-green hair, sat none other than the legend himself, Kingston Jones. Frank stopped abruptly, his mouth opened in surprise. No wonder the voice was so smooth. Kingston Jones was like a force of nature. He didn’t have to shout, scream, or yell. He was just there, and things got done with quickness, speed, and respect, for he wore power like expensive cologne. Frank had seen photos, paintings, and magical spheres of him, but never did Frank expect to meet the man in person—an underling or manager, never “The Man.” But nothing had gone as expected today. “Ah, you know, I do enjoy visitors,” Kingston said with a wide, sharklike grin. “I am Kingston Jones.” “Yes,” Frank said, swallowing loud and hard. “Yes, you are…” 5

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“You owe me gold—a lot of it,” Kingston said. He stood up, and his dress slacks, the color of fairy wings, fell unwrinkled into place. “I don’t like thieves, Mister…” “Miller.” “Miller,” Kingston said as he came around the coffee table, carefully avoiding knocking over an ivory vase that made Frank think of his wife’s rolls of chunky flesh. “What do you do, Mister Miller?” Again that tone which suggested everything was fine. Frank knew it wasn’t. He’d better start talking and fast, or he wouldn’t make it out alive or worse, with his freedom. “I can explain, sir,” Frank rambled out with a flash. “I am a merchant…I sell Pixie Peppered Potions…” This tidbit made Kingston grin—a genuine one. “Oh, not a good seller on the market. Though initially, I’m sure you made quite a bit of gold. A dietary supplement that melted away unwanted fat was its claim. Didn’t the Human Potions Agency issue a warning about Pixie Peppered Potion last month?” Frank let out a slow breath of relief. He might make it out of here alive yet. “Yeah, it seems some humans came down with black measles or Pixie Pickin’ Pocks…” Kingston interrupted with a chuckle. “I remember, yes. Ugly black pocks covered the entire body—everywhere. The effects were itching, burning, cracking and bleeding. The cure is a week’s worth of tomato baths…nasty business. Highly contagious disease…” Frank’s head nodded so often as Kingston spoke, he thought it would fall off and roll across the perfect pale-red rug. The guy isn’t so bad after all. Surely he’d understand the 6

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situation Frank was in and perhaps even offer him a job. Witches knew he needed the work. “So you understand, sir, that my income’s been reduced. I-I came into the city to try to win some more gold to ensure my family’s survival.” The warm and friendly smile on Kingston’s face drained away as if someone had turned off the cheeriness tap. Something beneath Kingston’s flawless brown skin twitched as if the very act of polite conversation required remarkable restraint. “No, I don’t understand,” Kingston replied coldly, his eyes burrowing into Frank’s. “I don’t understand why a merchant would gamble his last bit of gold, nor do I care. You owe me four chests full of expensive change, Mister Miller…” “Yes,” Frank said hastily. “And I plan to repay you. Can we set up some kind of loan? I am seeking employment, here in Humania…” One look at Kingston’s face told Frank that a loan was out of the question. Horror rode up Frank’s back, forcing him to shudder, for he’d heard stories from other merchants about doing business with Kingston. Cross him and many were found dead in the moat outside Humania, or worse—never found at all. As these images shot through his mind, Frank strained against the impulse to run. He had to use the only weapon he had—his mouth—to get out of here, for he had nothing else. Kingston would take his money out of Frank’s hide. Heck, he might even sell Frank off to one of the goblins as a human slave. They were known to eat humans. An image of the Larry the Licker wetting his eyeball caused Frank to dry heave and take in rapid breaths. 7

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Kingston strolled over to his dark, wooden buffet where a fantastic sword, complete with an ebony handle, was displayed. Its silvery blade gleamed in the overhead lights. Kingston’s inky-black braid swung down his back as he lifted the instrument with all the love and care of a treasured artifact. He whirled around with it in his hands. He held it up and turned it this way and that, admiring the workmanship and craft. “I received this after I defeated an ogre over in Olden Hills. He’d stolen a princess, and when I worked for the former king, he sent me, and me alone, to retrieve his daughter. As a gift, the elves of Graimere fashioned this for me. It will slice through anything…” “Sir, sir! Oh, but hear me out!” Frank shouted, his teeth chattering now in raw terror. “I-I can pay you back!” Kingston laughed again—a casual, but cold sound as if he bit into something frozen. “I have heard many excuses, Mister Miller. What is yours? Say it quickly before I kill you.” Frank’s mind whirled. He wanted to live. If Kingston had heard a lot of stories already, then Frank needed to come up with something he hadn’t yet. Kingston crossed the distance between them with fluidity and grace. His caramel leather shoes fell in a hush as he crossed the carpet. It was much too quick for Frank’s taste. Without warning and with amazing strength, he snatched Frank’s head back and smiled down at him as Frank struggled not to fall backwards. The position caused Frank to collapse onto his knees, his back burned as Kingston pulled backward. Kingston held a fistful of Frank’s graying hair in his hand. It was all so suave. “Say good night to your life, Mister Miller,” Kingston whispered, as he gazed down into Frank’s frightened eyes. 8

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It was then that Frank Miller offered the only thing he had left to give… His daughter. “Don’t! Please! My daughter is very beautiful, desirable!” Frank cried as tears spilled and leaked down his sallow cheeks. Kingston said icily, “I have enough women…” He raised the blade to Frank’s throat, and momentarily watched as a vein in Frank’s neck beat wildly in the blade’s reflection. “No! No! My—my daughter can spin desire into gold! You could reap all the gold you wanted…” At this, Kingston removed the blade and forced Frank to stand. He dropped the sword to his side. With cool, dark eyes, Kingston glared at Frank as if trying to read him—to see if he told the truth. “That is an art that pleases me well if it bears truth. If your daughter is as seductive as you say, bring her to my office tomorrow so I may put her to the proof.” “Thank you! Oh, your nobleness knows no limits,” Frank said, bowing repeatedly while his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. “Do not thank me, Miller. For if she does not do as you say,” Kingston smirked, his eyes glistening like black beetles, “she will die in your place.”

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Chapter 1 Beauty stared out of the living room’s sole window. Her brunette strands drank in the moonlight’s rays. They coiled in fat curls that cascaded down her back. The window faced east—toward Humania—and even from this distance, she could see the light pollution the human city generated. The room reeked of her mother’s favorite dish—roasted chicken and potato soup. Far be it for Beauty to complain for she knew that tomorrow night, they would return to eating boiled oats. In a few more days, once her father’s treasury ran out, they’d be lucky to eat at all. Her father’s business of selling Pixie Peppered Potions had fallen on hard times after the HPA’s declaration. “Your father is late,” commented Kathy Miller as she gazed outside the window over Beauty’s shoulder. As soon as Beauty turned to look at her, her mother promptly erased the worried expression from her delicate features. She gave a laugh and squeezed Beauty’s shoulder. Yet her hazel eyes held the questioning look that haunted worried mothers and wives when their husbands or children were away. “He should have returned by now.” Beauty nodded in agreement. Her father’s trip into the city had made her nervous for him. Humania had a reputation as being violent and a haven for criminal creatures—including 10

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the human ones. Normally, honest creatures didn’t go into the city’s center and mix with humans. They had their own boroughs. When some of the creatures encountered humans, well, in some cases, the humans got hurt. Beauty had read accounts in the daily scrolls and she found the anti-human laws and sanctions to be both cruel and stupid. Creatures could only work for humans in Humania. They could not, as it were, work independently unless supervised by humans in the city limits. Now, if they wanted to start a business, or work without human overseers, they had to remain in their own boroughs—away from man. Heavy taxes, sanctions, and tariffs were put on creature goods, which made the king very wealthy. Humans had no such tax or tariffs, and this alone made creatures resentful and disgruntled. If she were queen, she’d repeal the structures and revise the decrees, Beauty often thought this with great determination. But she wasn’t queen, or even a princess, but rather, just a merchant’s daughter. A poor merchant at that. What did the Princess of Kingdom do? She paraded around with her baby phoenix in her arms, posing for photographs and dating all the available princes in the area. And to think, one day that spoiled brat of a princess would be a queen. The prince, though, did little more than hunt. He’d be gone for long stretches of time, according to the daily scrolls. Yet violence had erupted only yesterday in a neighboring village. Two humans were injured by goblins in an attempted mugging. 11

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What did people expect to happen when the long-held resentments of beings who felt unwanted, scorned, and swept into the margins like so much trash, spilled over? So when her father said he wanted to go into the city, she had tried to persuade him to stay home, or at least take another person from their suburban village along with him. He refused. “Don’t you fret,” her mother said with a pat on her back. She smiled, making the crinkles around her eyes deepen. “He’s fine.” Beauty smiled in return, despite her own doubts. Her mother, satisfied with her daughter’s grin, turned back into the kitchen area. It wasn’t closed off from the living room like in some homes. Technically, Beauty guessed she couldn’t even call it a kitchen, since it was only one big room that held the stove, refrigerator, sink, rocking chair, and couch. They ate on the sofa, for they sold their dining set last week. It once belonged to Beauty’s great-grandfather, who had been a fairy. “Oh, Father, where are you?” Beauty sighed as the full moon’s face shined through the thicket of woods that ran parallel to their small cottage home. Along the front of the cottage, a row of firewood lay cut and stacked in neat little rows. Once they lost the cottage, Beauty didn’t know what they would do. Her parents pretended that all would be well and at night, they tried to speak in low tones so as to not awaken her as they heatedly argued and her mother sometimes wept. Little did they know that she didn’t sleep most nights at all, but instead, she listened to their conversations as their words slipped through the walls like miniscule insects. Their 12

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fears and worries crawled over her and she grimaced into the darkness. “Your father’s coming,” her mother called as she set out three wooden bowls on the counter beneath the only cupboard, and ladled hot soup into each one. “How do you know?” Beauty asked without turning around, her eyes searched the gloom for her father’s carriage. “I can just feel it,” her mother explained. “When you are so in love with someone, you are in tune with their thoughts and their personality. You can predict their actions, where they’ll be, and when—to some degree, of course.” Beauty thought this was more of her mother’s fairy side talking, but didn’t say anything. Instead, her hazel eyes widened as two headlights sliced through the night, and eventually, into the cottage’s window. The carriage’s rattling and clanking engine—minus its muffler—rumbled into silence as her father climbed out. He came into the house, slamming the door behind him. “Father!” Beauty raced to him, taking his satchel. It was considerably lighter. “You look exhausted. Were you harmed?” He waved her off and plopped down on the well-worn couch like a sack of potatoes. Mrs. Miller brought his soup, his ale, and a cut piece of fruit without speaking or inquiring. She didn’t say anything except, “Beauty, come eat.” The tremor of worry in her mother’s voice couldn’t be mistaken, and judging by her father’s grave face, Beauty knew that something horrible had happened. But what? She didn’t retrieve her soup, or her piece of fruit from the counter. 13

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Instead, she went to stand in front of her father, blocking his view. “Did we not get the loan?” she asked. Her mother wouldn’t ask him, but Beauty wanted to know what the heck was going on. At the word loan, her father looked up from his soup and into her eyes. “No, we didn’t,” he said, his voice low and careful. “I lost everything.” “What?” Mrs. Miller gasped from her spot in her favorite rocking chair. “Everything, Frank?” Beauty wondered if her mother had predicted this. “We’re going to be living on the street!” Beauty said, her heart hammering inside her slender chest. “What can I do to help, Father? To stop this from happening. I am able and healthy…I can work.” “And work you must, Beauty,” Frank said, his face grave. “You must go to the city tomorrow.” His eyes watered up and, unable to look at Beauty, he stared down into his soup. “There I will give you to Mister Jones. I shall never see your pretty face again.” “Frank!” her mother howled, dropping her soup to the floor with a clatter. “What have you done!” “I lost it, Mother,” he confessed, tears flowing freely now. “I-I lost the gold at the Slots of Fun Castle Casino.” “You gambled our future?” Mrs. Miller said through gritted teeth, her own hazel eyes seemed to burn with fury. “How could you?” “I thought I could get more,” he said. “Please, Mother, I-I did it for us.” 14

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Beauty could hardly hear his voice over the loud pounding of her heart. “But-but I lost it all… Now I have to give Beauty to him as payment.” “Not only have you lost our only gold, but you sold your own daughter!” screamed Mrs. Miller. “To Kingston Jones… Oh, Frank, Frank…how could you?” She turned away from him then and fled into their bedroom, slamming the internal door with such force, the entire cottage shook in disgust. Awkward silence swelled up like the humid afternoons in the summer between Beauty and her father as the realization of his deed sank beneath the cold wave of shock. Sold. To another person. Beauty could hardly believe her own ears. “Who is he? Kingston Jones?” Beauty asked quietly—so softly, her father didn’t hear her at first. “What?” Frank asked, startled from his thoughts, his eyes on his closed bedroom door where his wife had vanished moments before. “Who is he?” With a heavy, long sigh, Frank told her. “He is a wealthy man, Beauty. He’s in the business of exporting fairy dust to the other creature providences. Once, he was a general in the King’s Army.” “He’s a dust smuggler.” Frank hesitated. “He is legitimate now. He owns the Slot of Fun Castle Casino…and other businesses.” “A smuggler and thief. Lovely,” Beauty said, her rose petal lips drooped in disappointment. Frank did not answer. 15

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“This is what I must do, Father?” she asked tightly, fighting back tears. “I gave my word, daughter.” He looked up at her, his grief distorting his features. “Forgive me. Your beauty is both a blessing and curse.” Beauty snatched herself away from him, her thick hair flowing behind her like a gloomy cape, and fled to her room. It would be her last night there. Ever.

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Chapter 2 Josh Prince lay hidden amongst a nest of silk sheets, satin embroidered pillows and fluffy cotton spreads of royal blue. Everything in his suite—for it was hardly a bedroom— stretched out in majestic hues of amethyst, ruby and sapphire. His own long golden hair was sprawled amongst the finely crafted beddings. As he pushed the heap of covers off his nude body, Josh thought of his other life, as an undercover knight in the king’s army—his father’s army—and how many of his “other” friends believed he lived in some partially gutted apartment on the lower east side of Humania. He strolled across his suite, past the fresh flowers— breezily arranged in metal champagne buckets—by handpainted, striped walls, and across the dark plank floor to his bathroom with the indifference of one who had seen it all too often. As soon as he entered the circular room, a woman appeared from a well-covered servant’s entrance. His chambermaid, Loren, had been in charge of cleaning, arranging and caring for his suite for nearly six months. His former chambermaid, Helen, had been fired due to her rather quirky plans to rope him into marriage. Unlike his 17

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sister, Prin, he felt no desire to flaunt his position as heir to the throne. Or allow others to either. Loren smiled, and kept her eyes on his face, although her inflamed cheeks told Josh that his nudity has been noted. “A bath, sire?” she asked breathlessly. “Yes.” He stepped down three marble stairs into his sunken bathtub. It, like the room, was a complete circle of black marble. A bench crafted from the same material lined the inside of the tub. “This room, sire,” Loren said as she turned on the goldtoned handles for both the hot and cold water. She placed her hand under the rushing stream to ensure it was the correct temperature for him. “It’s so magnificent. Everything is made from noble materials…” He leaned against the high, smooth border of the tub, his eyes on her, as she made small talk. She did this each and every time she encountered him in his suite. He’d never paid her much attention. Except for today, she wore her hair up, exposing a rather slender neck and a full cleavage. “You agree, sir?” she asked, again making a point to stare into his face. He nodded in agreement. Yet his thoughts at that moment weren’t of noble furnishings and materials, but of something more natural. As Loren leaned over to pour scented oil into the rising water, her honey-toned cleavage—damp from the water’s rising steam, stirred his lust so strongly, a moan escaped his full lips. It gave Loren pause; her breasts pressed firmly against the thin fabric of her dress—making the purple dots expand. Even 18

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from this distance, Josh could see the pinpoints of her desire outlined against the fabric. Her blue eyes met his once more, and her cheeks again became crimson. Locks of her hair had escaped from its tie and spilled seductively down into her face and brushed her narrow shoulders and firm mounds. “Come here,” Josh croaked—his cock hardening at this sight of her. She gasped at his throaty command, but walked around to him, fully untying her hair and allowing it to fall with a swoosh down her back. “No,” he said, his face twisting in his hunger, “in the bath.” Slowly, as if she meant to torture him into lustful insanity, Loren discarded each article of clothing as if they were precious gems. Unable to stand her teasing, Josh rose up from the now full pool of warm liquid, walked up the steps, parting the suds with his stiff cock bobbing like a buoy, and up to her. Without waiting, he reached for her waist, snatched her to him and said, “Now.” Her eyes widened, not just from his impatience, but also from his rigid member pressing impatiently against her thigh. He released her, took her hand and led her down into the comforting water. Josh could already feel the blood pounding in his temples. Nude, Loren seemed even more appealing. He wanted to rush and touch her all over, but then he knew from experience, it would be over too quickly and right now, he wanted it slow so he could savor the interlude. 19

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She sat down, allowing the water to lap at her breasts, which still seemed to jut out at him as if accusing him of neglect. Josh sat down, but then moved closer to Loren. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and caressed her right nipple, rolling it between his fingers, watching her squirm. She cried out, a muffled layer of French words, and grabbed his large hand with hers. Josh gently pulled his hand free and allowed it to go back to her nipple. As she sighed deep, heavy moans, Josh moved to the other nipple and again teased it with his long fingers. “Please, please…” Loren moaned, her eyes closed, her back arching up to meet his fingertips. “Ohhhh!” Feeling she was close to exploding, he stopped and sat back down. Despite the water’s depth, the purple and angry head of his penis peeked up like a submarine scope. “Wash me,” he said, and leaned back at little. “With your mouth.” Loren’s eyes opened and licking her pink, thin lips, took his wonderful tool in her hand and licked it. Josh grunted as his stomach tightened. Loren smiled, for even though she may only be a chambermaid, now, she was the one in control. Another fast flick and Josh grunted again, rising up from the water with a tense moan. Out of the water, his body shiny and wet, he stepped out of the tub and laid on the plank floor, his cock tall and solid—ready for release. Loren followed him to the floor, and lying between his outstretched legs, took him into her mouth. She sucked slowly, deliberately, as if showing him her power. His toes curled. While she engaged him, tasting him and loving him 20

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with her mouth, she carefully squeezed his balls with each bob of her head. Closer and closer, Josh could feel his desire ready to explode in Loren’s hot little mouth, but he didn’t want that— not yet. As she increased her speed, he found himself lost in the throes of passion, but managed to whisper, “Enough.” Loren removed her mouth and, unsure, sat back on her heels like the country girl she was. “Did I not please you, sire?” she asked innocently, her eyes wide with uncertainty. Josh reached for her, pulling her down beside him on the floor. “Oh, yes, but we are not done.” Smiling, she leaned in to kiss him, but he turned away and fondled her breasts, again pinching and rolling the nipples with his fingers. Instinctively, she arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him and he leaned in to tug at them with his teeth. With each lick and flick of his tongue, Loren’s clitoris throbbed. As if hearing its beat, Josh placed one of his hands between her legs and toyed with her. He felt how slick with want she was and immediately, he wanted to be inside her. He pushed her legs apart and straddled her. She looked so ready for him, with her hair spread all around her head like a halo, her breasts still seeking his mouth, and her eyes closed in desire. Yes, he wanted to possess her. Right then and without warning, he placed his cock at the entrance of her vagina. The wetness nearly forced him to release his seed, but he breathed out. 21

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“I am your lord,” he said to Loren as she whispered demands for him to enter her. “Feel me…” With that, he shoved his cock into her slippery puss and groaned as her muscles clamped onto him. His shaft slipped in—nearly all the way out before he rammed it into her again and again. Loren’s hand massaged his buttocks and she moaned for him not to stop. Soon, they began to move in sync and Loren cried out that she was close to reaching her climax. Her muscles clenched around Josh’s gorgeous cock and began to solicit a release from him. As if inspired by this sensation, Josh increased his speed more, and in a dizzying frenzy, he withdrew from her hot pussy and released his load all over her stomach. “Yes! Ahhh, yes!” he cried, and collapsed beside Loren on the floor. “Did I please you, sire?” she asked in a small, distant voice. “Yes. You are dismissed,” Josh said between breaths. “Thank you, sire,” she said, but her tone told him she wasn’t pleased at all. She hastily dressed and fled the suite to perform other duties. She shot him an angered look, and then disappeared through the narrow servants’ door. Within minutes, Josh bathed again, spending little time relaxing in the soothing water. He thought no more of Loren, for she was only a minor partner in his lustful desires—on his floor is how all servants must be taken, not in his bed. His bed was reserved for his future wife, a woman he would not only desire, but love. He didn’t love Loren. 22

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Just as his lips weren’t for any woman who stirred his passion. No, kissing was an intimate act, and that, too, would wait for his true love. Loren, he knew without a doubt, didn’t fit that bill either. In fact, he’d already forgotten bits of his tryst with her as he dried off before getting dressed for work, and he let the matter of her disappointment with him vanish back into the rear corners of his mind. A disguise served as his only recourse for getting out of the castle undetected. As a prince, he knew he didn’t have to work. Still, he believed it to be his duty to stop traitors and criminals like Kingston Jones.

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Chapter 3 Beauty opened the carriage’s silver-toned handle and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The heat washed into the taxi’s chilly, frost-induced air like sizzling dragon’s breath. She stared around the crowded streets as hoards of trolls in belly revealing tee-shirts, goblins in grape halter-tops, and fashionable fairies meshed alongside scantily-clad humans in the humid Humania day. As the taxi shot away from the curb in a stream of stars, Beauty witnessed dragons—harnessed and muzzled—flying in the air above the packed carriage street, each carrying a knight officially decorated in an armored vest and shin guards. They scouted the traffic and the pedestrians the way starved men searched for food. To Beauty’s surprise, several wagons and gigantic frogs ridden by other creatures clogged up any available space in the traffic jam. “Just through those doors,” the pinstripe-clad pixie said as she gave Beauty her destination’s directions earlier that morning. Her father’s plan to accompany her to Humania fell through, just like so many of his promises before. After a bout of deep weeping, he confessed he didn’t have the courage to actually face Kingston again. Instead, her mother gave Beauty the last of her own treasury to send her daughter to her fate via a hired carriage driver—taxi. 24

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The air smelled thickly of rain, and the streetlights glistened off the pavement in the gloom of the overcast clouds. It was nearly too heavy to breathe from the humidity. The huge gray castle appeared to blend into the already smoky sky. With her stomach rumbling in bubbling protest, Beauty took a step forward. Immediately, she was nearly knocked to the fractured ground by a passing goblin who hissed a, “Sssssorry,” in her direction. “No, no bother,” she said through gritted teeth and seeing a break in the flow of pedestrians, rushed across to the Slots of Fun Castle Casino’s doors. The feeling of frigid fear caused her eyes to swell with tears. If only her father hadn’t betrayed her, she’d be happy now eating boiled oats and cutting wood. Once she passed through the doors, she knew her freedom, nay, her very life would never be the same. She could run now. What would this Kingston Jones do? Just as she thought this single, independent thought, the double doors swung open and a gigantic troll looked down at her. “Beauty Miller?” the troll with the egg-shaped head growled down to her. His voice boomed like thunder. Unable to speak, Beauty nodded. “Of course you are,” he said and then added, “Follow me.” Beauty summoned her strength, all that she had remaining. She knew she would need it to face the unknown demands of Kingston Jones…especially since she had no idea what he intended to do with her. 25

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They entered the casino and the dongs of bells, screams of sirens, and shouts of success boomed and bounced across the high walls. The magical lights rotated in a rainbow of candid colors that spilled across the patrons. Beauty could hardly believe the mass of creatures hovering around the felt-lined tables and beings draped all over the big boxes of slots. They eagerly shoved gold coins, one after the other, into the machines which devoured sacks of gold like hungry dogs. “Keep up,” demanded the huge troll, at least the size of Beauty’s cottage, wearing a blue tee-shirt with SECURITY on it. His words infused themselves with the boisterous thunder of laughs, cackles, and shouts. “You don’t want to get lost in here.” Beauty’s eyes widened in round terror. No, I don’t. The look on her face actually caused the troll to soften his. With beady eyes, he glanced down at her once more and said more gently, “Mister Kingston Jones requests your presence immediately in his office.” She swallowed her fear and fell into step behind the massive creature once more. On the back of his shirt was his name in dark lettering. It was written in both trollish and human letters. “Howie,” Beauty read aloud. The gigantic troll looked back over his sizable shoulder. “Yeah?” “Your name is Howie,” Beauty replied, trying to be friendly, despite the terror gnawing at her gut. “It’s on the back of your shirt.” He gave her a brief smile, exposing a mouth full of rather large, square teeth the color of sand. 26

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“Very observant,” he said. “Your dad wasn’t as smart as you.” At this, Beauty’s breath caught. She whispered, “You know my father?” They had reached the third floor landing. The ringing dings, shouts and howls of joy lessened to a low drone. The burgundy carpet at this level still seemed crisp and new, unlike the well-trodden casino floor. “Yeah,” Howie said with a voice saturated with something that sounded to Beauty like pity. “Not smart at all. Him bringin’ all his gold in like that. Caused the sharks to start circling.” Beauty gaped up into Howie’s face with budding anger burning like a well-stoked fire. “Don’t look at me like that,” Howie said, hunching over and bringing his face closer to Beauty’s. “He lost—for the most part, fair and square.” “Sure.” He shrugged, rearing back up to his full height. “You ain’t gotta believe me. It’s the truth—troll truth-bound honor.” Beauty didn’t answer for she knew that troll truth-bound honor wasn’t legally binding in Humania. In other words, his speech meant nothing. Howie started again up the spiraling stairs in large, lengthy steps. Beauty made no effort to keep up with him, for each step she took brought her closer to the dreadful Kingston Jones and a waiting life of servitude. With the faint humming of manufactured happiness in the background, Howie reached the sixth floor and pressed the button. Without waiting, he 27

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headed back down to his post with hardly a look back at Beauty. She stared at the two closed oak doors with a knot twisting in her stomach. What’s waiting on the other side? A monster creature with large, sharp teeth ready to devour me? Will he subject me to a lifetime of cleaning out moats? Dungeons? Dragon droppings? They swung open and a calm, nearly soothing voice said, “Enter.” Not wanting to hesitate too long, for who knew what would happen, Beauty stepped into the office and onto its plush, pale-red carpet. She walked slowly through the center of the room, gazing at rich oil paintings of nude nymphs and fairies in flight, their breasts jutting upward, their narrow waists light and pink, their long legs stretched out in flight. She took it all in, the dark, mahogany wood tables, splendid red and black chairs and sofas. When her eyes landed on the centerpiece at the end of the room, the window-sized portrait of a green-haired nymph above a cherry-red sofa, she stopped immediately. Muted music drifted from the right corner, where seated in a scarlet leather chair was Humania’s second most powerful man, Kingston Jones. With his eyes closed, Kingston Jones relaxed to the charming sound of a lyre that resonated throughout this tiny corner, filling it with soothing songs. Perched on a small, darkly wooden stool sat a fairy, her wings silvery and extended. She played beautifully. Her naked paleness seemed to glow, lighting the space like a candle in a dank corridor. There, with the shadows acting as a garment, she played as if she and she alone were in the room. 28

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And as she played, Kingston stroked her creamy thigh as if she belonged to him—like a pet. He seemed unaware of Beauty’s presence… Though he had called her in, so he knew she was there. Beauty watched in terrified horror as the song finally came to an end. Is this what he had in store for her? The fairy opened her eyes and stared blankly at her. She bowed toward Kingston and remained seated, unabashed as her long silver-white hair covered her breasts and the position of her lyre covered her most private area. Kingston opened his heavily-lidded eyes and nodded in Beauty’s direction as if she was here for a pleasant reason like a job interview or something. Not a girl on the cusp of a lifetime of servitude. As his eyes met hers, her heartbeat increased its pace. Extraordinarily handsome with a strong jaw, shiny raven hair that spilled down his back and over his shoulders, and a full mouth, Kingston Jones was hardly the rogue dust smuggler she’d envisioned when her father first told her of her plight. He stood and, with the flick of his hand, dismissed the fairy. She passed Beauty as she hurried out of the room, careful to grab her robe from the floor behind one of the many tables. It reminded Beauty of a freed rabbit her father once caught accidentally in a trap. The fluffy bunny fled with hardly a look back at the near death experience. “You are most certainly Beauty Miller,” Kingston said, drawing her attention back to him. “Your father did not exaggerate your, ah, beauty.” “You-you are too kind, sir,” Beauty said, her voice barely above a whisper. 29

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“But about your skill,” Kingston continued as if she’d said nothing at all, “I am sure he did attempt to deceive me.” He stopped in front of her, and Beauty smelled his masculine scent—strong and vivid—dominating the air around him. His slacks, a goblin green, slid over his hardened thighs, skimming his legs and forcing her throat to close. Beauty felt her stomach clench hard—like from a sudden carriage stop. Her chest grew tight and breathing became difficult. Kingston’s dark skin, long hair, and his lean body gently stirred her own untapped lust. So much so, she hadn’t really heard his words. “So,” he said, tossing his hair over his shoulder with all the grace of a king, “I shall put it to the test.” Startled from her thoughts, Beauty’s eyes grew wide. “What?” Kingston’s smile evaporated into a severely solemn expression of slight annoyance. “Your talent, about which your father bragged so grossly in my presence, will be put to the test. Tried, if you will, for your father was under great duress when he initially made such a declaration.” Beauty could feel the power beneath his crisp, businesslike speech. Although he seemed amazingly at peace with the decision to exchange Beauty for her father, she felt each of his words as if he hurled stones instead. What talent had her father spoken of? She parted her lips to ask, when Kingston continued on. “Tonight, your trial begins…” Just then, a silver panel on the midnight walls parted and out walked another male, lean and acerbic, dressed in ceru30

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lean blue pants, nearly blinding white shirt, and a face that surely was an enchantment. Blonde hair had been braided into a single, solitary plait. It looked as if strings of golden thread had been woven throughout his hair. Beauty could see that even his eyelashes resembled honey-toned fans. Up until that moment, Beauty thought Kingston Jones had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Now that had completely changed. Kingston gestured to the recent addition to the room. “Josh Knightly, my newly appointed Chief of Security. He’ll deliver you to my hotel further away until your trial commences.” Frustrated and utterly confused, Beauty raised her hands and tore her gaze away from Josh. “What are you talking about? What talent? What trial?” A silence, full of tension and strain, burst into the room, when suddenly, Kingston laughed—a creepy, cold, calculated chortle. Beauty caught Josh’s glance as it moved between her and Kingston. Yet he didn’t say anything, or join in with his boss. Instead he simply remained rooted to his spot, his blue eyes bright and alert, hiding whatever he was thinking. “Oh, ah, you almost had me. For just a single moment, I thought you did not know,” Kingston said, wiping his eyes with a well-manicured hand. “Yes, well, your father did say you were very smart.” “I don’t—” Beauty began, her voice a higher octave than she liked, horror stretching her tone. “You will not persuade me or trick me with your shouts of ignorance, nor will your beauty make me collapse in won31

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der,” Kingston said icily, a mad glint in his eyes. “Josh, take her out of my sight!” “No, but…” Beauty bleated as Josh grabbed her arm— forcing her to wince—whirled her around and marched her out of the room. “Stop!” Firmly, he guided her down the spiraling stairs and onto the casino floor, where at the first opportunity, Beauty wretched her arm free. “Let go of me!” she shouted, her hazel eyes narrowed to furious slits. “You aren’t in the position, sweetheart, to demand anything,” Josh declared, his delicate lips curling in a grimace. He pulled his sword free of its sheath. “You are the property of Kingston Jones! Your will, your very freedom, is forfeit.”

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Chapter 4 Josh Knightly, little known to others as Josh Prince, turned to look at the sensual being seated beside him on the carriage’s luxurious rear seat. Jones’ goblin driver couldn’t hear them through the emerald-green goblin glass. The goblins were masters of disguises and magic-proof glass, along with other items, which kept them competitive in the creature circles. Having no magical skill or abilities of their own, goblins required all the assistance they could muster to vie with other supernatural creatures and the humans. “So,” Josh said as he released the enchanted silver bracelets from Beauty’s thin wrists. The chunky cuffs fell with a thunk. “What did you do to earn Mr. Jones’ attention?” Beauty flipped her hair over her shoulder, crossed her arms over her chest, and gazed out of the opposite carriage window, her mouth drawn into a frown. Josh watched as the sun’s rays seemed to gravitate toward her hair and dive in, highlighting random strands into sweet honey brushed curls. He fought down the impulse to touch it, to run his fingers through it and inhale it. “You might as well drop your attitude. Your predicament is no fault of mine,” he said, turning his voice hard like frozen chunks of ice. He had to resist the girl’s exquisiteness. 33

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“Nor is it mine,” she snapped as she shot him an angered look before turning back to the window. How fantastic she glows when angered! Josh thought and just as hastily shoved it aside. He smirked in spite of himself. She shifted in her seat, recrossing her legs, and the dress’ shimmering material caught his eye like a fish in a fisherman’s net. The crimson embroidery around the empress scoop neck lay against her skin and looked as if it warmed it. Unrestrained, his eyes drifted down her slender neck and around the scoop’s semi-circle that bordered her bosom. The satin material had been artfully decorated with twigs of golden brown. It revealed lots of warm, flawless flesh. His libido rose hot and fast at the very thought of possessing this fantastic woman. Adequately named, Beauty caused his hands to sweat, his heart to thunder in his chest, and his cock to stand up strong and tall as if begging for her attention. Wanting to stare at her forever, but not wanting to get caught doing it, Josh purposefully turned back to his window. The day had proceeded from overcast and gloomy to sunny, the former clusters of clouds were nowhere to be seen. Yet the bustling streets of Humania contained scores of women, creatures, and traffic. His eyes saw most things and nothing through the darkened glass, for a fantasy had ripened within his mind. Beauty had the starring role. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying in vain to relieve his swollen penis. Oh, but to feel her delicate hands on his cock, stroking, massaging, perhaps even laying her petal plump lips over him, and giving him the wet warmth only her mouth could pro34

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vide. He shuddered and received a brief look from the object of his lust. He envisioned that tremendous hair flowing across his chest, snagging on his hardened nipples and brushing against his balls, tickling and rousing him to even further heights. Without even realizing it, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat—slumping down as his fantasy gripped him. He could hear the honks and croaks of carriages and frogs, shouts and calls, whistles and wings, but they provided only a low murmur to the major moaning of the fantasy Beauty. He was on the brink of touching himself to release the hunger that threatened to explode on its own, so engrossed was he in his fantasy—until he heard the goblin driver hiss, “Mister Knightly, sssssir, we’re here.” Josh opened his eyes, and tried to cough out the horniness in his throat. He picked up the bracelets and turned to Beauty, avoiding her eyes. “Stretch out your arms,” he said. “Please don’t put those on me again,” Beauty said gloomily, her previous fury spent. A stab of pity wedged into Josh’s chest, temporarily taking his breath. Her father’s awful luck at Humania Hold ’Em had indeed sealed her fate, whatever Kingston had schemed up. There was nothing he could do, except try to take Jones down. But betraying the labor he’d put into his undercover work for one girl, no matter how stunning, would be foolish. And Josh C. Prince wasn’t foolish. So he quickly sealed the pitiful wound in his heart—all of it. He had a job to do. Taking down Jones wasn’t going to 35

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happen with this girl alone. He needed to stop thinking with his dick and start using his other head. “Afraid not,” he said, steeling himself and making his voice callous and harsh. Frowning in his efforts to concentrate, he didn’t immediately see Beauty’s face. Once the bracelets had clicked into place with a spray of sapphire sparks, Josh glanced up to see Beauty’s silent tears streaming down her high cheekbones and dripping onto the carriage’s seat. Josh gave a fleeting look awkwardly away from her, and shoved her out of the carriage. She stepped up onto a worn gray cobblestone pathway in front of Hotel Haven, a massive stone castle on the outskirts of Humania’s city limits. The gleaming moat that separated Humania and the outlining boroughs and suburban villages sat tranquil, basking in the noonday sun. Even from this distance, he could still see the city’s buildings and the outline of dragons as they patrolled the airways and monitored the streets with their riders’ armor sparkling in the sun. Noises of lives unraveling could also be heard, though not nearly as loudly as birds chirping and other forest life that existed on the resort’s grounds. Overhead, the melodious laughter of a group of females surfed the gentle breeze and, for once, Josh was glad to be out of the city. Taking Beauty’s elbow, he guided her up the four stone stairs and on up the pathway to the front doors of the resort. The grounds were lush and fertile. A life-sized statue of Kingston Jones dominated the landscape in front of the lobby’s entrance. As the cobblestone path wrapped around the statue, Josh wrestled with himself as he watched Beauty’s stride, the way the dress fit her hips and round buttocks. 36

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The woman continued to assault his senses and the worst part of all was that she didn’t seem to know the effect she had on him. “You could let me go,” Beauty whispered, her voice strained. He frowned. The truth was that if she were freed, he’d pay for it with his own life. His father would crush Kingston Jones, but… Josh liked living and breathing. “You’ve been traded—one life for another’s,” he said, as if there was something else he’d rather be saying. She shrugged those gorgeous shoulders and turned away from him. Whew! He’d almost snatched her up and taken her home…to his bed! He shook his head to dislodge the torrid images scrambling through his mind. Yet Beauty’s face was now singed into his memory. As they cleared yet another six stone stairs and finally entered the main lobby, he released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. It didn’t surprise him, that as they walked, males of all species stopped in mid-speech and dropped their scrolls or wands to openly gape at her. Several of them must’ve thought of approaching her, but then they spotted Josh just a breath behind her. They returned to their activities prior to Beauty’s entrance. This high-end resort entertained dozens of humans, all dazzling and sparkling like diamonds in a velvet purple cloak. Yet none came close to capturing Beauty’s allure.

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“Incredible,” he whispered to himself as she looked back at him, tears still wetting her face. Even in distress, she could melt ice from the mountaintops. “Keep moving!” he snapped at her as if she meant to distract him. “Afternoon, Mister Knightly,” called a red-haired fairy from a group of them fluttering near registration. One was dressed in a hostess uniform, a vivid violet short skirt and matching halter top. The others wore coordinating costumes of shorts and midriff baring tube tops. They all worked for Jones, and they waved vigorously to Josh as he and Beauty passed. He nodded in their direction. The fluttering flock of fairies burst into another round of giggles. “Your fan club?” Beauty asked over her shoulder, seducing him with a casual look just as they took the fork in the path toward the right. “No!” he barked back more bitterly than he’d wanted. She had him reeling and unsure of himself. That wasn’t the norm. And he didn’t like it. “Heads up,” he said a few moments later as they came upon a spiraling staircase. “Start climbing.” As she stepped up the granite stairs, Josh couldn’t keep his stare off her narrow ankles, and down to her slipper-clad feet. His gaze drifted across her shapely arms that helped steady her as she climbed. The material of her dress only skimmed over her delicious body, and Josh could hardly contain himself. 38

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He could make out the tiny twigs that seemed to dance in the midnight black satin’s background. Beauty’s empress dress was secured high, right beneath her breasts. The red ribbon had been tied artfully in a big bow directly between her shoulder blades. Beauty’s thick hair had been parted down the middle and two ruby-encrusted barrettes secured her hair away from her face, giving her an innocent look. Though Josh figured she was closer to his age than not, he judged from her tightly coiled body moving seductively under her dress, Beauty had come of age quite some time ago. It surprised him that such a fair creature had never married, nor had any suitors. Witches knew, he’d love to possess her. As if she’d heard his thoughts, Beauty looked back at him, her hazel eyes like amber. After a few moments of studying his face, she turned back to the stairs. The stairs themselves were becoming difficult to navigate as his penis swelled to full length once again. Clearing his throat, Josh steered his mind onto something that would cool the lustful flame Beauty stoked inside him. Round and round the gray staircase wound, all the way up to the penthouse apartment. Torches lit the way and gave tight arcs of illumination to the shadowy space. At last, they reached the top. Only a few more feet, and I’ll be free of her! “This will be your new home until such time as Mister Jones deems necessary,” he said, trying to get a grip on himself and keep his hands off Beauty.

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He unlocked the two double doors and then turned to release her bracelets. Before they reached the ground, he’d caught the shiny instruments in his hands. “Good hands,” Beauty said with a small smile. Oh, you have no idea how good my hands are. Josh simply nodded. He had to regain control of his hormones. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he’d been hit with a spell— bewitched. With her eyes wet, her face damp, Beauty lifted her head high and boldly stalked into the penthouse, not looking back at Josh. “And what am I to do here?” she asked, her back still to him. Josh tried to hide his surprise. “You don’t know?” He watched her hesitate and then she said, “No.” “Then you are surely doomed.” Despite the urge to get away from her, Josh knew she’d torment him forever. Steeling himself against the desire to take her in his arms and hold her, Josh hastily slammed the doors shut and with shaking hands, locked them. He wanted something solid between them—to keep her far away from him.

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Chapter 5 Inside the gilded cage, Beauty lay slumped in the room’s brief foyer at the threshold of the living space and she wept. What could her father possibly have promised that would warrant such a test as absolute seclusion? Her despair made her feel empty, and she longed for the freedom of the woods, the sound of the river running over the rocks, and the feel of chickens feeding from her hands. She could almost hear their clucking like mad when she approached with her pail of food. In a word, Beauty was homesick. She fingered the ring on her hand. Her mother, between tears, had given Beauty two things that were near and dear to her family’s bloodline. A necklace, with a pair of wings suspended from a rose gold chain, and a second piece, a ring—a 6.19-karat diamond set in platinum, accented with pink diamonds in rose gold. Each diamond, her mother had said, represented a generation of powerful fairies in Beauty’s family tree. With tear-filled eyes, Beauty took in her surroundings. Perhaps it would not be as awful as she first thought. It could be much worse, she guessed. She could be housed in a moldy, damp dungeon. 41

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All around her, white canvas, matte nickel and glass abounded throughout the three rooms. The clean, fresh air style gave the place a summer feeling, despite it being at the top of a tower. The lone circular-paned window’s view spilled out and over the resort grounds, the pool area, the lush green grass and the garden behind the enormous front entrance and its gates. Nestled away from Kingston’s casino, the resort made Beauty feel as if she had landed in another world—one packed with sweeping strokes by Mother Nature’s wand. Turning back to the room, she set about investigating her surroundings. She’d never seen anything like this. The place must’ve been built for a queen, a princess, or someone important. Surely not for a servant. As the thought dissipated, she groaned. At dusk, your trial begins. What was she expected to do at dusk? What had her father said she’d do? What talent had he promised she possessed? He’d spent so much energy keeping her hidden from men that she had very little talent at all—except reading. She used to read to her mother when both were bored, or when the heavy rains kept them indoors and close to the fire. Saving her for a prince, her father used to say—yet here she was, tethered to a dust smuggler. What had her freedom cost? Beauty didn’t believe any amount of gold could possibly be worth this. 42

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Though, as she began to look around her prison, she had to acknowledge—albeit grudgingly—that it was a step up from her home. The living space held only a single chair the color of mustard, and a matching throw pillow. The wooden floor planks had been painted ivory and were decorated with rugs as if the oval pieces of carpet were accessories. Taking up the entire rear wall was the headboard of a magnificent bed, overflowing with pillows in every shade of earthiness—rustic reds, sunset oranges, and aspen greens. The covers themselves were a single intense hunter green. Satin and cottons mixed in the seductive bed. Beauty couldn’t resist—she ran her hands over the fabrics and laid her face against their softness. Even though the room held a similar layout to her own cottage with a single bathroom and a tiny eating area, the furnishings, paintings, and sculptures all made it seem as if a dream had been unfolded from her pocket and made real. Ornate tassels hung from the bed’s four posters. Vintage wall hooks jutted out of the wall and Beauty assumed it was where one placed their clothing, cloak, or cape. Beside the bed, a small vanity table the color of cream rested with a grand old mirror above its smooth, polished top. Nothing but a single brush with a gold handle was visible. The bathroom contained the usual fixtures. One toilet, one mirror, sink and tub decorated in a pewter and porcelain combination. Nothing spectacular occurred in there, and Beauty found it rather drab compared to the grandiose decorating of the living space, bed, and eating area. The eating area couldn’t be called a dining room, for it was nothing more than an indentation in the wall. Two wrought iron chairs—complete with silk cushions, and a 43

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round table—made up this space. A vase, ivory and straight, held a single flower. Having toured the room, Beauty gazed out the sole window as she came full circle. Bored and extremely lonely, she leaned against the windowsill and looked down onto the hotel’s pool area. Several lounge chairs were scattered around the sparkling pool of azure water. Water nymphs relaxed on bright, vibrant green lily pads, soaking in the heated sun’s rays. The pool area resembled a stone rectangle with a turquoise center. Around the edge, almost at each right angle, were cabañas the color of milk. Tiny bikinis in a rainbow of colors buzzed about as wings cast off the sun’s rays. As Beauty’s eyes roamed over the diverse population of creatures and humans—mostly elves and fairies, a few nymphs and a couple of males—she suddenly wished she’d been able to experience the world. She had little contact with creatures and she wanted to know more about them. Suddenly a flutter of floral decorated females, their wings shining, trailed a human male who’d climbed out of the pool. He wore dark navy shorts and little else. Even from this distance, Beauty could tell the guy was well-built and developed. His tanned skin drank in the sunlight. Beauty’s eyes went as round as a goblin’s as the two youthful fairies grabbed his arms—each one taking an arm— and zipped about lifting him about a foot from the ground. They flew him over to a small patch of grass, just a few feet from the pool, but secluded behind a bunch of trees with heavy foliage. Hidden from others, but not from Beauty’s lofty position in the tower, the two fairies landed on the grass, their wings 44

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still at last. Their pale skin appeared in stark contrast to the human male’s tanned flesh. Fairies lacked red blood cells and other humanoid items. Yet they still enjoyed the sun without tanning or burning. Nevertheless, they were suitable for sex having the identical reproductive equipment as humans. All this Beauty knew from all her reading, but never had she experienced inter-creature sex—or sex of any kind. Nor had she ever desired it. However, she found herself unable to look away from the acts that unfolded below. Nor could she pretend that her body wasn’t affected by the display of such passion. Lying in the flourishing landscape, the three now-naked bodies rolled around in quick kisses and hoots of laughter that rode the wind’s current to Beauty’s ears. Soon the laughter languished into moans and deep grunts. Beauty watched as one of the two females, with her golden hair sprawled over the male’s chest, moved up to his nipples—though Beauty couldn’t see this exactly from the distance, she guessed—and the other fairy drifted down to his cock. From her perch, Beauty continued to spy on the threesome, noting how the human male’s chest seemed to rapidly rise and fall, perhaps from the increase in his breathing. The two fairies frolicked in fun and teased the male for several long minutes. Beauty squirmed as she stood, her stare lingering on the scene. The prickly sensation she’d felt at Kingston’s office was back and the aching heat between her legs couldn’t be denied. She squeezed her thighs tightly together, almost instinctively, and felt the quiver of desire rush over her. 45

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She sighed. And did it again. She felt her nipples grow stiff beneath her dress and she rubbed her hand over the material softly. Another rush washed over her, this one forcing her to step back from the window temporarily. She thought of touching her breasts again, but what if Kingston opened the door and caught her squeezing and massaging her own breasts? She didn’t want to end up at a brothel. Not waiting too long, she glanced down at the group again, and they had progressed from fun foreplay to more serious sensual acts. A few seconds passed before Beauty could comprehend what she was seeing. The two fairies had mounted the male. One rode him like a unicorn, with her creamy legs straddling the male. Up and down she went, grinding and rotating her slim hips as if her life depended on not falling off. The second fairy squatted over the male’s face, but her motions were similar to the one behind her. Rotating nearly identical hips against his face, her head tossed back in the throes of delight, Beauty thought the fairy must be having the time of her life. Beauty wanted to feel that zeal—having a man’s mouth on her most private area. What did that feel like? Would she have a release as she did when she touched herself alone by the river in the woods? Unable to witness any more, she stumbled back from the window and sat down in the mustard chair, feeling her clit swell and begging to be touched.

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Never touched by a man, Beauty knew only self-pleasure and as a virgin, she didn’t know if she required a man to satisfy her. She did fine alone. Yet, after seeing the three by the pool engage in such sexual bliss, Beauty wondered if she’d missed something. Her clit beat wildly. Unable to withstand the wait any longer, Beauty stood up, lifted her dress over her head and shuddered as she placed her hands on her tits. Grabbing them and slowly, lightly massaging them, she closed her eyes and pictured the hands of a male, faceless and somewhat bodiless. Only his hands were visible in her mind, and she allowed them to roam all over her body, down her flat, concave stomach, past the soft brush of hair and into her wet, wanting cavern. He didn’t remain faceless for long. Her fantasy man morphed into Josh Knightly, the handsome Chief of Security for her owner, Kingston Jones. A gasp escaped her and she quickly slipped her finger, moistened by her desire, up to her clit and rolling it gently between her fingers, she collapsed back into the chair, tossed her legs over each of the two arms—her slippers still on both feet—and proceeded to provide the pleasure that she knew would grant her release. Again and again, she caressed her clit, sometimes moving her fingers down and inside her, wetting them, and bringing them back up. As her breathing became ragged and her other hand fondled her breast, the pace increased into a frenzied one. “Yes!” she cried, and Beauty’s orgasm rippled through her, forcing her to arch her back and tighten her legs together in soaring sexual sensations. 47

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It was then as she recovered from her orgasm that it hit her…if it was this good with just her fingers—sex with a man must be amazing.

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Chapter 6 “Where have you been?” asked Princess, or “Prin” to just about everyone in the kingdom. “Dad’s been looking all over for you. He was just about to call out the sorcerer but…” “And?” snapped Josh, his attitude switched to furious. He stopped at the doorway to Prin’s suite because she stepped out into this path. His suite lay just past Prin’s. “So…he’s a raging lion right now,” Prin said as if it should’ve been obvious to Josh why she was so bothered. Josh shrugged and tried to step around her. Yet she anticipated this move and foiled his attempts to flee. Her gaze met his and she smirked. Her hair wasn’t as fair a blonde as his, but darker—nearly a sun-kissed brunette. She wasn’t taller, but rather, she was smarter, at least in her own opinion. “What’s your problem with him anyway?” she asked, her big gold hoop earrings shining in the castle lights. “You got a problem with authority or something?” “I don’t have a problem with authority,” he snapped, tapping his foot to keep himself from thrusting Prin back into her rooms. “I just don’t like people telling me what to do…so get out of the way!” 49

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With that, Prin hastily hurried into her room and slammed the door. Josh took in a deep breath and heard the faint giggles of his sister’s friends as Prin recounted some amusing tale. Not wasting another second on his sister and her attachment to fame, Josh headed down the corridor toward his own sacred place. Within minutes, he’d crossed over into his own suite, secured the door with a piece of wood and hastily undressed. He wanted a bath, and to be left alone. Just as he’d shed his clothes, Loren appeared at his tub, a towel tossed over her arm and her face filled with loathing. No doubt she was still angered by his performance this morning, and right then, Josh didn’t care. He wanted solitude. “Leave me,” he said, perhaps more sharply than he intended. Loren stiffened as if he’d pinched her. She had retied her hair up and again, her exposed neck caused Josh to glance at it, but he didn’t feel the same tug of lust that had first captured him earlier. Beauty Miller had erased all of that. Compared to Beauty’s lovely neck, Loren’s was as appealing as the thought of being tarred and feathered. Loren bowed, set the towel down by the royal tub and left. She cast him a malevolent look before closing the door. Lowering himself into the water, Josh immediately started to relax. Today had to be filled with the most stress he’d ever felt from a job he performed for Kingston. The other assignments, break down a door, storm another’s castle, 50

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capture a dragon—these Josh could do and it didn’t bother him at all to follow through. Yet ask him to escort a human servant to the resort and lock her in a tower. That got to him. What bothered him more than the stirring fervor she caused in him, was her innocence. She acted as if she’d never been outside her village. Moreover, she insisted she didn’t know what her father had told Kingston she could do. Josh didn’t know either, but she should have been aware of what talent her father said she possessed. A talent worth so much that Kingston would allow Miller to live. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying in vain to banish Beauty’s image from floating to the forefront of his mind. He failed and her tear-stained face appeared, her hair flowing in gentle waves down her back, and her empress dress shoving her generous breasts together and up as if in offering to him. A sigh and a shudder simultaneously rushed through him. Josh laid back in the water, holding onto the edge of the tub and allowing the rest of his body to float. He opened his eyes and glanced down at his cock. Already it had grown rigid and a tight, tingling sensation took up residence in his stomach. Poking out of the water, the head of his penis had turned violet; as if furious Josh hadn’t taken Beauty while at the resort. “No, can’t do that,” he muttered, hearing nothing but the sounds of water in his ears. So it came as quite a shock when his father appeared at the edge of the bath sporting layers of royal sapphire clothing, a long cloak and a furious frown. 51

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Splashing and hastily trying to sit upright, Josh stumbled around—accidentally inhaled a mouth full of water, spilled more of the liquid over the edge of his tub, and eventually gave up on sitting. He stood. Thank the elves this water comes up to my waist, Josh thought as he met his father’s furious gaze. The steamy bathroom’s sultry temperature couldn’t heat up his father’s cold stare. So angered was he, that his lips were nothing but patches of white flesh on his face. “Joshua Charming Prince!” his father roared, porky hands on his wide hips. “You missed your sister’s suitor and the luncheon today, the meeting with the ogres’ prime minister, and the Human Potions Agency!” Josh watched in mild fascination as his father’s bearded face turned more and more red—soon it had changed into a perfect puce color. The vein that snaked down the center of his father’s forehead throbbed excessively. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he shouted after a few tense moments. “No son of mine will shirk his royal duties to chase some nymph’s exposed ass!” Josh wasn’t really listening. A trick he’d learned early in his relationship with his father. At the current moment, he was busy trying to figure out a suitable excuse for missing so much time today. “Well?” “Uh, Dad, she was such an exquisite nymph—Carmella, I believe her name was,” Josh said with a flashy smile and casual attitude he’d learned to mimic from his sister’s suitors. If his father suspected he’d been out sowing his royal oats, then so be it. It was plausible compared to what he was really doing. 52

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“Would bring her home and all, but can’t remember her last name.” His father exploded in a shower of hot explicit language. His voice bounced off the marbled walls and resonated with deafening anger. “You are hereby officially grounded, young man, until you can demonstrate some sort of maturity,” his father finally managed to spit out. Spittle shot out over the tiled floor and Josh reared back, but didn’t lose his balance. With his crown tilting slightly to the left, his father turned on his heels to leave. With puffs of poofy sleeves billowing down over his sizeable stomach and arms, his cloak dragged the floor and collected the remnants of dust, food, and hair. He smelled like roast duck, and Josh figured his father had eaten the evening meal prior to seeing him. The flush across his father’s cheeks could either have been from drinking, or from his irritation with Josh. Josh knew he couldn’t afford to be grounded. Not right now while Beauty was being held captive in a tower. Why he cared about her safety, he didn’t know, but grounding he couldn’t do at the moment. “Prin can do whatever she pleases. She doesn’t have to attend all of these stupid meetings!” Josh shouted back, losing his casual persona in his desperation to remain free. His father spun around, and shook a fist at him, punching each word into the air. “You are a male! You are going to be king, Josh, and these—what did you call them—stupid meetings are what will keep your kingdom from falling into ruin!”

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Josh didn’t know what Prin being a female had to do with anything. She could be queen just as quickly as he could be king. But she had to be married to be queen. He didn’t have to be married to be king. Feeling his own temper rising into the red zone of danger, Josh replied, almost without thinking, “The biggest threat to the kingdom doesn’t come from the creatures, but from your own blindness!” His father’s mouth fell open in shock. As he hastily recovered from the words, he whispered in rage, “What is that supposed to mean?” “Kingston Jones.” “Not him again, Josh,” his father moaned, his own anger spilling out with those words. “He’s a legitimate businessman. I’ve had him investigated, and everything comes up roses...” “And gold,” Josh muttered, folding his arms across his chest. The water had turned chilly. “Yes, and gold that helps keep you well fed, dressed and sheltered, young man. Nevertheless, that does not impact my judgments. He’s a fine individual—a former knight in my uncle’s army. I will hear no more about Kingston Jones.” “Father,” Josh implored, but his father simply waved his beringed hand. “No, Josh.” “Fine.” “You are still grounded,” his father added as he turned toward the servant’s door, the one often used by Loren. “I am twenty years of age,” Josh shouted. “You can’t ground me any more.” 54

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“Oh, but I can, and as long as you reside under my roof, you will do as I ask,” his father said with a smarmy smile that made Josh’s insides sink into despair. “A guard will stand watch outside this very suite unless I come and get you myself.” “This is completely ridiculous,” Josh said as he made a dash for his towel. “Perhaps next time, you will remember your duties to the kingdom before ditching them for some water nymph,” his father said gruffly. With those words still staining the air between him and his son, Josh’s father walked out of the suite.

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Chapter 7 Serene sections of the garden below Beauty’s window only served to cover yet more acreage of the Hotel Haven. The castle had been set amongst a grove of trees that cast deep shadows wherever Beauty expected to see flowerbeds. Yet flowers, primarily ferns from her guess, had been planted in a dizzying array of colors. She could see the wild array of flowers, plants, and trees from her spot at the window. Even though the gardens were in bloom, she could make out the occasional butterscotch pathway threaded through the lavish patch. She loved being outside and, despite its grandeur, the tower room was still a prison. The clear sky appeared to flush into a rosy pink as if embarrassed by its nakedness for there were no hint of clouds. Dusk. As that singular word zipped through her mind, the rattling of a key in the door made her heart race. The time of her trial was at hand. She twisted from the circular window, and with her mouth bone dry from fear, she stared at the doors. I’m not ready for this. Before she could ponder what to do, some action that could save her—in walked Kingston Jones. 56

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He wore the same clothes as earlier, but somehow, he still seemed fresh, as if he’d just stepped from a bath. His teeth, an amazing white, shined from beneath a smile that made Beauty’s skin crawl. “Beauty,” he said, his tone of voice, soothing and smooth, with an undercurrent of raw power and authority. “Your trial is upon us. It will commence within the hour.” It reminded Beauty of finding a razor in an apple. “Wha-what am I to do?” She felt her hands began to shake and her voice quiver. “What?” He laughed. “You are to turn desire into gold, that’s what!” Beauty’s mouth dropped open. “What?” she managed to gasp. Kingston wasn’t listening, and it was doubtful he’d even heard her. He was already walking around the copious room, eyeing the décor and making sure all was in order. “The man will arrive within the hour, a Mister McAfee. You will turn his desire into gold and I’ll return by dawn to collect it. If you do not have it, then you will die.” Beauty’s heart plummeted. So if she failed to turn this McAfee’s desire into gold, she’d be killed. This was what her father said she would do. “So, your father’s debt must be repaid,” Kingston said, his beetle-black eyes on her. “Once the amount is paid in full, then you will be freed.” “Free?” “Oh, yes, free. I’m not an ogre, Beauty. I am a businessman.” He flashed a grin that reminded her of the looks coyotes give to rabbits in the woods. 57

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It all sounded too simple to be true. She didn’t quite believe him; after all, he was a dust smuggler. What she wouldn’t give for a pixie’s positive test right about now. But she didn’t have access to pixies, so she had to make a go of it anyway. Kingston must’ve taken her silence for acceptance, for he glided across the room and to the double doors. “I’d get ready to do whatever it is you must to set about getting gold from desire,” he said, and with a brief wave, added, “Until dawn.” He left, leaving a new bout of horror in his wake. Beauty had little time to figure out what to do, for she didn’t want to die. So she spent the better part of the time allotted to her before Mister McAfee arrived wearing a path from the window to the bed. As she paced, she wracked her brain trying to think of how she could escape. The doors locked from the outside, and the tower’s lone window was too high up for her to jump, or even weave the bed’s many coverings into a rope. As if she’d simply blinked, the rattling of the key in the lock sounded once more and Beauty’s hands broke out in a sweat-induced panic. Is my hour over so quickly? She looked this way and that, and finding no suitable place to hide, fled into the bathroom, slamming the door. The tub wouldn’t hide her, and its tiny sink couldn’t successfully drown her in time. So Beauty dropped to the floor, hugging her knees against her chest as she cried at the terrible hand fate had dealt her. From the other side of the door, she heard Kingston say, “She is no doubt getting ready. Sit here in this chair. The darling flower will be with you in a few moments.” 58

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Something in his voice again made Beauty’s stomach clench hard. A threat, no, not a threat, the real possibility of her death was underlined in his words. She’d better be out in a few minutes, or… She heard the doors close and again the now familiar rattling of the key. She wondered how Mister McAfee felt about being locked in with her. “What to do?” she whispered to her knees and tears continued to leak down her face. She bit her bottom lip to keep from wailing—so desperate her situation had become. Why? Why did Father promise she could do such a thing as turn desire into gold? She knew little about desire, for she was a virgin. To date, she’d only masturbated a total of four times. Moreover, she had no idea how to turn it into gold. She never envisioned losing her virginity in a situation like this. Three hard knocks shocked her out of her thoughts and she leapt to her feet. “Hello? Are you in there? I am waiting,” called Mister McAfee. “I hear that you are a beauty. Come out and let me see you!” Trembling, Beauty began to cry harder. Her life lie in the balance of what she did in the next five minutes. So, summoning strength she didn’t know she still had, Beauty stepped toward the door. As her hand reached out for the doorknob, her will collapsed like a house of cards. Weeping, she looked at herself in the mirror. “How can you do this?” Two more knocks, this time more impatient, echoed through the bathroom. 59

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“Come, girl, for I do not have all night!” Beauty stared into the mirror, feeling as if all was lost. She might as well leap from the window and end her life on her terms. Not those of Kingston Jones. As she straightened to again attempt to leave the bathroom, the mirror began to swirl with smoky twirls. The antique pewter mirror cleared and there appeared a little man. “Oh, my!” Beauty jumped back from the mirror. “Hello, dear,” he said with a smile. He wore a red hat, had a white beard and a little blue shirt. His eyebrows were a bushy chalk color and his eyes a dark black. Amazingly highpitched, his voice didn’t seem to belong to him, but to a child. “I see that you are in distress.” “Who-who are you?” Beauty asked, inching toward the door. This new creature appeared to be the lesser of two evils. The man on the other side of the door might harm her as well, but not if she went to him willingly. “That has no bearing as of now,” the little man said. “You are in need of my assistance.” “I am?” Beauty asked, for she didn’t see how he could help her unless he could free her from the tower. Even then, there wasn’t any way to flee Kingston Jones’ long reach. The man was the second most powerful person in the kingdom. “You must turn that man’s desire into gold,” the little man said as if he’d been listening to her and Kingston’s conversations all along. “How did you know…” “That too is of no consequence.” In light of the situation, it wasn’t. Beauty would be killed if she didn’t do something, so she gambled. 60

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Just like her father. “All right,” she said, sounding braver than she felt. “Help me out of this mess. I don’t know anything about turning desire into gold.” “It just so happens that I do,” he said, then let out with a silent chuckle. “What will you give me to do the task for you?” Payment? Of course the man wanted payment! He was providing a service. Beauty looked around, trying in vain to think of how to compensate the little man. She reached for the sink, when the lights fell on her second finger. “Here, take my ring!” she said and hastily pulled it off her finger. “Done,” the little man said and reached through the mirror to collect his pay. Once back on his side of the glass, he said, “Stand back.” Beauty stepped back to the spot by the toilet. Another two knocks rocked the door. “Now, girl, for I am tired of waiting!” “Just a moment,” Beauty said as she watched in amazement as a long leg slid out of the mirror. After one leg came another, then an arm, followed by a second, and finally, a head. A brunette, just like Beauty, with the face of an angel, arrived full body—a very naked body— out of the mirror and stood before Beauty in the bathroom’s pale light. “Who-who are you?” Beauty asked the woman in front of her. She smiled—a kind, warming smile and said, “You know me already. I’m you.” 61

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Chapter 8 “Impossible!” Beauty said, her breath whooshing out of her lungs. The woman appeared human enough, but people didn’t appear out of mirrors. “You’re not me!” The little man in the mirror chuckled, his rosy cheeks gleaming. “Oh, no, no…she is just a simple female humanoid, created by ancient magic. Her name is Tendai, which means in my people’s language, to be thankful.” This other being, Tendai, said to Beauty, “Get behind the door.” Beauty hopped behind the door, and waited until it closed. She could see the little dwarf disappear from the mirror and with her blood pounding in her ears, watched as this brown-haired woman exited the restroom. The woman didn’t look anything like Beauty, but had the same skin tone and dark brown hair. There wasn’t any reason for Kingston to suspect that another person was in the room. After all, Beauty had been locked inside the tower all day. So a blanket of relief began to settle around her shoulders. She gazed once more at the finger where her mother’s family heirloom had rested just a few short moments ago. Surely, her mother would understand the loss…she’d only used it to save her life. 62

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McAfee had never seen Beauty before, or the little man’s incarnation of a human female who could turn desire into gold for Beauty. He wouldn’t know the difference. Through the door, Beauty heard the woman say, “I’m here to stir your desires and to satisfy them.” Beauty hurriedly kneeled down at the door’s keyhole. She wanted to see how the woman turned a man’s desire into gold. Perhaps if she learned how, Beauty could do it on her own and save her life. Or use it to support herself and her family, if Kingston set her free as he promised. Tendai had began to purr sweet nothings into McAfee’s ear. He massaged her shapely buttocks in ecstasy, moaning like a love-struck lad. Beauty secretly thanked the little man, for McAfee was an older man, with a rail thin frame, an enormous bald spot, and liver spots on his hands, which had now snaked upward and wrapped around Tendai’s back. Within a few steamy moments, Tendai had begun to kiss him deeply. McAfee wore tan, flat front slacks and a longsleeved shirt. She couldn’t see his face, for Tendai had drawn him into her as if he were air for her to breathe. Beauty had never observed such passion from a kiss. Sure she’d witnessed her parents’ brief pecks of affections, but this…this was raw, uncensored passion. They rotated around to where Beauty could see their profiles clearly from her spot on the floor through the keyhole. Tendai’s hair flowed over her naked, honey-cream shoulders like a waterfall over a cliff, crashing onto her back and upper arms in smooth waves. McAfee disrobed with such urgency, that his hands actually shook. 63

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His skeletal frame, pale and white, seemed to glow in the fading sunlight. The torches bracketed into the walls burst into illumination automatically and without real fire. Magic. Beauty kept staring as the woman performed her duty— turning desire into gold. Tendai and McAfee were both nude. She pulled a rug over to the mustard chair and gracefully lay back onto it, beckoning McAfee to join her. She closed her eyes, and Beauty watched as McAfee put his large, skinny hand between her legs. At first, his touches were gentle, but then as his desire grew, they became more rough. Beauty looked away, for she thought Tendai must hate this torture, but soon heard deep sighs instead. After several seconds of these manual manipulations, Tendai sat up and grabbed McAfee’s engorged cock. She crawled over to him, and carefully pushed him until he lay on his back. Tendai straddled him, cast a smirk in Beauty’s direction—as if she knew Beauty was watching—and then lowered her lips to him. Already McAfee trembled in anticipation—yet once Tendai’s soft, wet lips met the round, throbbing head of his cock, he groaned aloud as if with extreme pleasure. His cock moved ever so slightly, the head disappearing in her mouth as if she hungered and this was her only satisfying meal. Shocked, stunned and completely at a loss for words to describe what unraveled before her, Beauty could only swallow hard lumps of intense feelings. She never would have been able, or even known how to do some of the things Tendai now did to McAfee. 64

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She wiped her hands on her dress and again looked through the keyhole. Tendai and McAfee had moved back into the chair. McAfee’s rigid member sat up straight—waiting patiently for the beautiful woman to take it into her hot, wet tunnel. She turned around with her back to McAfee, and lowered herself onto him, slowly, gently. She teased him some, just allowing the now puce head to part her vaginal lips before rising up quickly and giggling. McAfee did not find it funny. “Now, girl, now!” he whispered hotly. “You are so perfect!” As he said these words, Tendai slammed down fully onto his cock, soliciting a gasp from McAfee and some drool slipped down the corner of his mouth. Tendai rose and fell like a slow-moving churn, grinding and rotating with deliberate movements that made McAfee’s feet pull up and he began to moan. Over and over again, he shouted out to her for, “More,” and, “Faster, faster!” The creature on his lap obeyed, increasing her rhythm. Beauty could see the glistening sweat on Tendai’s forehead as she worked McAfee like a newly aroused buck. McAfee’s thin hands settled on her waist, guiding her so he could deeply penetrate her. At times, their movements appeared as a blur. To Beauty, it felt like three days had passed, but in a matter of three hours, Tendai and McAfee had performed sex in a variety of positions. Beauty finally stopped watching and had begun to doze just as the older, but stamina-filled McAfee entered Tendai’s rear. 65

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At last, she heard another shout from McAfee which meant he’d released his seed once again and Beauty knelt down to glance once more, for she’d seen lots of things done tonight, but no gold. Yet as she placed her eye to the keyhole once more, they itched with tiredness. As McAfee collapsed back into the chair, Tendai rose up with grace. Beauty’s eyes blurred and her lids closed. She tried to shake off the sudden bout of drowsiness, but could not manage to. Beauty could hear the jingle of coins from her spot on the floor behind the bathroom door. It was the last sound she heard before sleep snatched her into its waiting arms… **** Beauty awoke some time later with a horrible cramp in her neck and back. Stretching and scrabbling to her feet, she hastily opened the door before it hit her that McAfee and Tendai may still be in the room. Yet as she scanned the space, she realized they had gone. In the seat of the mustard chair was a sack of gold coins that seemed too incredibly large to be real and not a vision or trick of magic. More magic. What exactly is Tendai? The little man? Feeling the deed was done and her body screaming for proper rest, Beauty snuck by the sack of gold, and moved onto the bed. The moon—a pale sliver against a raven sky— told her that she had only a few hours before dawn. She stripped off her dress, her slippers and her panties, knowing that if Kingston arrived and she was fully dressed, he’d be suspicious. 66

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At last, her very strange day had come to a close, and she slept.

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Chapter 9 Beauty awoke to a sun-filled room and the aroma of fresh flowers, old sex, and the rattling of the key in the lock. She tossed about the bed; suddenly scared for it was not a room she’d woken to before. The key’s announcement of a visitor brought back the images and memories from yesterday. Startled, Beauty fumbled around, trying to locate her clothes and dislodge the remnants of sleep when Kingston Jones appeared inside the room. “Dawn,” he said as if this one, single word could answer the hundreds of questions Beauty possessed. Too frightened to hesitate, Beauty remained rooted to the spot in her bed, one of the many hunter green covers yanked up to her throat to hide her nakedness. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she gasped. Her crumpled and wrinkled dress was in a heap a few steps from the bed. Her hair, scattered and rumpled, looked as if she’d had a busy night indeed. McAfee must have left earlier. Maybe one of Kingston’s servants came to free him. She didn’t really care as long as he was gone. Kingston walked further into the room. He wore designer charcoal pants, black leather boots and an ivory 68

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sweater—it looked as if it had been made from the fur of a unicorn, short, white and very soft. It wasn’t his attire that made her stomach churn. In his hand, he held a sword, a magnificent one, with an ebony handle as black as his eyes. It gleamed in the morning sun and Kingston’s manicured fingers wrapped around it as if they were crafted for that purpose—to hold and wield his sword. “My gold, Beauty,” he said, his gaze examining her condition. “McAfee could hardly stand this morning. The man was enraptured with you.” She could feel those beetle black eyes crawling over her face, her neck, her skin. Without waiting for another order or a swish of his sword, she crawled out of bed, careful to wrap the cover around her like a makeshift toga. “Still so modest, Beauty,” Kingston teased. From beside the vanity, Beauty ignored him and hoisted the sack of gold coins. She shuffled toward him, her arms shaking from the weight of the load. Kingston’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He rejoiced beyond measure at the sight of his glistening gold. Yet, he hadn’t expected it or he wouldn’t have brought his sword. “You-you did it?” Beauty only studied the plank floors. The sack was answer enough. If she spoke, she might give something away, the magic dwarf in her mirror… She shuddered. “Excellent,” Kingston said, though he sounded as if it wasn’t. “Then you should have no trouble getting twice the gold tonight.” 69

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“What!” Beauty balked, her head snapped up and she glared at Kingston. He couldn’t be serious. Could he? Kingston’s grin turned chilly. “Oh yes. You’ll get twice the gold, or you’ll perish twice as painfully.” With that, he pivoted on his heel, swinging his sword in one hand, and the sack of gold coins in the other, and left the room. Beauty heard the sack of coins smack the floor outside the doors and Kingston locked her in once more. Beauty stood staring at the locked doors, feeling the last wisps of hope slip right out of her grasp. She had believed, perhaps naively, that once paid, Kingston would let her go. She had been wrong. Quite wrong. Alone again, Beauty dropped the bed sheet to the floor and moved slowly to the bathroom where she’d met the strange dwarflike creature with the magic to assist her in her dire need. Desperate once more, for now twice the urgency lay upon her. She had to complete this task. Without even shutting the door, she tapped on the mirror’s glass and waited. Nothing happened. She called softly, “Come, little man.” No swirling of smoke. Feeling like she might actually be losing her marbles, Beauty entered the tub, turned on the water and for about ten minutes, allowed herself to focus on nothing but washing away the horridness of her situation.

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Not that she could, but she did enjoy scrubbing herself clean with the soaps left beside the sink. She relaxed in the aroma of lavender and chamomile. She even felt better once she dressed and brushed the tangles and knots from her hair. Beauty’s wet and heavy hair melded easily into two braids—one on either side of her head with her barrettes keeping the ends from unraveling. Her mother loved it when she wore her hair in this manner, and her father often referred to her as his little Greta, her cousin who once slew a witch along with her brother, Hansel, a few villages over. Beauty walked by the mustard chair, which sat empty, waiting for her next two men whose desire she must make into gold. How was she going to service two men—at once? Individually? Her mind seemed to censor and block any ideas of this nature from cropping up. Admittedly, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to please the one last night. The “magician” as she called him, for she didn’t know his name, didn’t come to the bathroom’s mirror when she called. So, perhaps he felt his help wasn’t needed any longer. He couldn’t be more wrong. Without his aid, what would she do? Kingston came this morning prepared to take her life as easily as he would toss away an old apple core. Like so much trash… Upset, blue, and very worried, Beauty sighed. Only just after dawn and she couldn’t go back to sleep. Restless and anxious, she paced the room, and sat for stretches at a time gazing out of the window. She longed to walk amongst the garden’s paths and smell the floral scents, touch the soft petals 71

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of the flowers and listen to the sounds of other creatures and animals celebrating the gracious gifts. What would she do? The insidious question would not grant her peace and she wanted to scream for deliverance, for a kind pixie or fairy, heck, at this point, she’d even take a witch, to come and get her out of this mess. If only she had a book to read to take her mind off this place and her approaching duty at dusk. So she pulled one of the two chairs away from the small, circular table to the window. She couldn’t stomach sitting in the mustard chair again. Beauty didn’t know how long she sat at the window, but the sun’s ascent had progressed to where it rested very high in the sky. Once again, the day felt humid and the hot streams of air slipped beneath the window and onto Beauty’s face and arms. She thought about Jones’ chief of security, Josh, and Beauty felt a brief tug about seeing him again. Longing, both loud and lewd, languished in her mind. The cursing and muffled shouts brought Beauty back to the room and she bolted out of the chair, her heart a stallion in her chest. Howie the Hand shoved through the doors, stooping to avoid the low clearance. His green skin shone from sweat and his tee shirt was ruined with stains of perspiration. He reeked of unwashed flesh, and Beauty switched to breathing from her mouth. With a scowl, he set a tray brimming with fresh fruit on the table and slapped down a pail of liquid. “Freakin’ stairs,” he growled at Beauty as if her placement in a tower had been all her fault. “I hate stairs. The boss got 72

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stairs all over the freakin’ place! The casino, the resort, the freakin’ apartments…” He stopped abruptly. He peered at Beauty as if he had never seen her before. “Mornin’,” he said in an almost disinterested manner. He caught himself and said, “Beauty.” His face softened as he turned to her. Beauty thought she saw pity in his eyes, but thought better of it. Trolls, she’d surmised, cared little for human females. “Here’s your breakfast,” Howie said. “Can’t lose your strength. Water is in the pail. It gets hellacious hot in here, so drink lots.” “Thank you, Howie,” Beauty said and meant every word. She carried the chair back to the table. Howie removed her flower and replaced it with a fresh tulip the color of royalty. Beauty scooted up to the table and asked, “Where is the chief of security?” She didn’t know why that mattered and why she suddenly cared. True, her dreams last night included a male with blonde, nearly golden hair, but that in no way meant it was the handsome chief of security from yesterday. Did it? Beauty slapped her hands over her mouth and looked at the floor for what was left of her common sense. What just happened here? Why did I ask him that? Howie stopped talking in mid-speech, for he’d been discussing the benefits of breakfast on the troll body. He recovered sluggishly as his troll features indicated he would and asked, “Who?” 73

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“No one,” Beauty replied and shrugged as if it meant nothing. Howie stared intensely at her, and then said, “If it’s Josh Knightly you askin’ about, well, he don’t do this minor servant crap, like carryin’ trays. You ain’t got the hots for him? I mean, many of the human females are always hittin’ on him…” With his eyes still on her, Howie went on. “You see, girlie, he’s at the top of the chain over there with Mister Jones. You ain’t gonna get him to free you, no matta how pretty you are, well, for a human.” Beauty swallowed with difficulty. She wasn’t interested in Josh freeing her. He’d made it clear that he didn’t have a heart for compassion or mercy. “I only asked of his whereabouts to ensure he will not be coming here,” Beauty said stiffly. “He is a cold, callous individual. I want nothing to do with him.” Yet even as she spoke these words, she knew they weren’t completely true. She did want something to do with him. Something she’d never done with anyone else… “You humans always speak so nice,” Howie said with an open-mouthed grin. “All them words. Just a waste of time. You likin’ him. I can tell. Hopefully, you won’t die soon…” He didn’t wait to see if Beauty ate the food, but left, locking the doors behind him while laughing. Beauty’s gaze moved from the doors back to the table and her stomach immediately growled, demanding to be fed. It wasn’t until that moment that she’d even had an appetite to eat. But boy, she was famished. Starved, she began to eat all of it eagerly. She cared little about the possibilities of poison. 74

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She’d rather die anyway than service two men, more complete strangers. Death before on-demand desire.

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Chapter 10 Beauty wasn’t the only one awake at such an early hour. Josh rolled over and received a burst of glowing sunrays right in his eyes. His eyes flapped open in ready response. A new day awaited, and judging by the picturesque view, it would also be a steamy one. Hot, humid Humania often caused creatures’ tempers to boil, a fast formation of judgments, and shady deals. And Josh was missing it. Gloomily, he crawled from his bed to stare out his window. Below, the moat was being dredged. The workers labored before the sun’s glare became blistering. His father didn’t want debris forming a bridge and allowing people free entrance into his home. “Damn him!” Josh cursed the air. “I must get out of here!” Ordinarily, he’d don a cape or a fancy cap and vanish into one of the castle’s many secret passages. He’d discovered most of them as a lonely lad while his father sat in meetings or traveled to distant lands. Prin came later…some four years after his birth. Her arrival didn’t alleviate his loneliness. With the guard standing at the entrance to his suite, Josh’s problem of getting out seemed the biggest hurdle between him and his desires. 76

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He brooded around for the better part of an hour, knowing full well that if he failed to report to Kingston in the next two hours, he’d be tossed out on his head, if not severely punished—his cover blown. Kingston would want to know where he was, and questions about Josh’s whereabouts could lead to his detection. Josh couldn’t have that. Frustrated, he ran a steamy bath with the hope of generating some ideas in the tranquil pool. He wanted to relax so he could think. No way he’d allow his father to outsmart him. Almost like clockwork, Loren slipped through the servant’s entrance into his quarters. Josh waited to hear if the guard would come to ask her questions or to otherwise inspect her person. Nothing. Interesting. Loren wore a milky blouse and a coarse brown skirt, which fell to the tops of her tanned, weathered brown boots. A small smile played around her lips as she held the towel toward him. Such naked ambition did not become her. “Do you require serving, sire?” she purred, yesterday’s anger apparently forgotten. Yet Josh knew better. His tryst with Loren had complicated their relationship. He could see that now. She assumed that one sexual encounter meant she was his girlfriend—some commitment was shared between them, when in fact, there were none. If he gave in now, he knew Loren would do everything in her power to try to become pregnant with the next heir to the throne. 77

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Josh glanced up at her, a wicked grin on his face—he could feel it as the new idea sparkled within him. Loren’s face shined. Even now, her eyes twinkled with expectation. “No, no, but thank you,” Josh said—seemingly unaware of the shadow of disappointment that fell over her face. Loren bowed stiffly and left. Josh hardly noticed, he was already out of his bath and busily toweling off. He hurried over to the immense closet where his many clothes were neatly folded and placed onto shelves. Rows of silk, satin, and cotton in varying colors awaited his touch. Like a great wind, Josh whipped about, tossing finely tailored and crafted items to the floor with complete disinterest. At last he stopped and held two brown, rather plain pieces into the light that spilled in from the main room. “Yes!” he shouted. No one would suspect. Moving quickly, caused in part by the urgency to make his meeting with Kingston, Josh dressed in the ratty garments. He wore the longer scarf over his hair, making sure to secure a laundry sack onto his back. It contained his other clothes to change into for his meeting with Kingston. The sack also played the role of keeping him in character—that of a servant. He left his suite, slipping through the servant’s door. The guard didn’t even flinch. Josh hurried, trying not to draw the guard’s attention. He didn’t even bother glancing in the enormous knight’s direction. Josh doubted he would arouse any suspicions. Servants hardly drew anyone’s notice and often blended into the walls, unseen prints against the gay décor. 78

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Josh could feel the robe brush against his naked ankles. The fabric, heavy and rough, weighed him down, slowing his movements to precise, deliberate steps. The corridor’s darker interior held lit torches that cast long, shadowy slivers onto the walls. Josh knew that at any minute, his father would awaken. He didn’t want to be around when his father came to retrieve him for yet another snore of a meeting. The drafty hallway felt good on his face. Josh wiped his brow and yanked the scarf tighter over his head. He passed Prin’s quarters. Thankfully, no squeals, giggles, or shouts of, “Oh, my goodness!” came out to greet him. The last thing he needed was Prin’s fat nose poking into his business. Encouraged by her absence, he raced down the stairs and passed the quiet, deserted great hall where many a meal was spent overshadowed by boisterous and often drunken conversations. Within moments, he’d dipped into a pantry reserved for any overstock or storage of winter items and supplies. Hidden behind the rows of blankets, yarns, folded winter throws and a fake wall lay another staircase that led below ground, and into the dungeon. The damp odor of mold and wetness enclosed for too long opened up into a wide mouth of darkness. Josh grabbed one of the torches from the pantry’s doorway and entered the blackness. Scurrying through the tunnel, Josh’s hurried and heavy footfalls frightened rats, spiders, and water bugs. Josh threw off his cloak and then his scarf, determined to run the remainder of the pathway in only his sleeping shorts and laundry sack. He knew the route almost by heart, for this was a frequent escape tunnel for him. Beauty. 79

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Even though it was extraordinarily dangerous, he knew he needed to see her again. Unless Jones told him to do so, he wasn’t allowed to see her. No one was unless Jones ordered it. The penalty for disobeying Jones was death. No excuses. No exceptions. Josh had heard tales of how Jones murdered his own brother, because the man had failed to follow Jones’ directions. He felt as though he were a flower that required her graceful rays to grow up properly. And heavens knew, she inspired certain parts of his anatomy to do just that. Now if he could just get some release. A little death to make him feel alive. But he understood that the fiery captive might not be nearly as glad to see him this afternoon as he would be to see her. Yet, he had fallen into some sort of spell for his thoughts, dreams, and waking preoccupations were only of her. She haunted him into madness. And he hungered for her. Josh wiped his brow grown damp from not only his jog, but also his thoughts. He climbed the steps that led up to the ground. He moved the heavy rock from the opening. Grunting, Josh clawed his way through the hole and a ray of sunshine rushed in to greet him. At last, he emerged outside the castle’s stone walls and into the woods just behind his home, with his feet stained with heavy dew. He could see the moat and the tiny workers. Without delay, Josh changed his clothes, pulling on his attire with harsh, quick jerks and tugs. Jones’ security chief 80

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must meet certain expectations. One was he had to look good, not like some ogre. Jones insisted on it. Josh knew he’d have to freshen up. Once dressed, he ran over to a hidden carriage—a rusty iron and quite shabby vehicle purchased from a poor ogre in need of some gold a few months back. It gelled along with persona of being a bottom feeder. Fifteen minutes until his briefing with Jones. Josh wretched open the door—squinted against the scraping of rusty hinges—plopped down into the driver’s seat, and pressed the button to initiate the carriage’s horsepower. Winged horsepower had been harnessed by elves and trapped into a small, rectangular box. It was from here that all carriages received their power, and within seconds, Josh was shooting through the forest, a trail of yellow sparks in his wake, merely inches above the ground. He steered as if his life depended on his promptness. Because it did.

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Chapter 11 Beauty lay on the bed, surrounded by mounds of puffy pillows crafted from smooth satin, silk, and cotton. Her hair, sprawled amongst the rich hunter greens and shiny slips of forest tones, looked like chocolate created by the finest chocolatiers of the eastern kingdom. A place only known to her as “the land where chocolate flows like water.” While rummaging around in absolute boredom after Kingston’s departure, Beauty discovered several sheets of crinkled paper, a couple of quills, and ink. She wrote letters to her mother, for if she were to perish now that she’d been successful, she hoped Kingston would grant her one last wish—to send these letters to her mother, her closest friend. Funny, the things one remembers when their life hangs in the balance, threatening to titter over into oblivion. Beauty could almost smell the green tea her mother made each morning. Dressed in a robe and house slippers, Mrs. Miller would flutter about the cottage, straightening, cleaning, and stopping only to sip her favorite tea. Made from green leaves grown in her mother’s small garden, hot green tea seemed to give her mother energy. It was simple things that brought her mother amazing pleasure. For example, her once a month tea parties—her mother would journey over to the neighboring village to participate in a tea 82

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ceremony with other family members and friends. It took place in a teahouse in the garden of one of Beauty’s aunts. The guests ate sweets, drank tea, and swapped gossip. Beauty actually went with her mother once, when she was a young girl. The host had chosen the teapots, cups, and flowers with great care. Beauty laughed as she recalled her mother’s kindness and fondness for ceremony. And company. How lonely her mother must be now without her. Beauty smiled in the lone room fingering her necklace— she missed her mother the most and felt more homesick than ever. The handmade paper she found in the vanity resembled fresh, spring leaves, and contained an almost flawless feel. Beauty’s fingers traced the nearly invisible lines, grooves, and lumps embedded in the paper. She thought about her cottage, her home by the cool river and deep-rooted forest. Sighing with longing, Beauty picked up the quill to write again. Maybe in this letter, she’d tell her mother about Howie, the troll she’d met and how kind and talkative he was. Yes, that would definitely bring a smile to her mother’s lips. As she wrote, she found Josh’s face blinking like an impatient pixie in the forefront of her mind. It threw her off track mentally. The image of him was a mental roadblock. No other thoughts could get through. Physically, her body was far from distracted. It was as if her flesh was a wick and Josh a ready flame. Beauty adjusted her position and tried to banish her thoughts of the chief of security. Still her mind refused—the road barricade against all thoughts not about Josh, favoring instead to focus on Josh’s 83

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hands. Beauty could still feel his hands on her wrists when he attached her security bracelets yesterday in the carriage. At the time, she had not wanted him to touch her—but once he had, she wanted to feel his fingers brush her hands, touch her wrists, and other places that sprang up defiantly in her thoughts. In an instant, Beauty wanted Josh to do the things she’d seen the fairies and human male do on the verdant grass. They were naughty thoughts that meant Beauty was in trouble. “I can’t be in love with him,” she grumbled to herself as she climbed out of the bed. “He, he…” Even as she spoke these words, she knew it wasn’t completely true. She was in love—helplessly. Beauty gasped and frowned. What was the matter with her? Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but the man had been cruel to her. Who would love a man who was mean and hurtful? But was he all those things? Beauty stood at the vanity mirror, brushing her hair to free it of tangles. He had tried to make conversation in the carriage ride. He had only watched Kingston’s savage behavior when in his office—Josh hadn’t joined in. He didn’t try to take advantage of her, as one might expect from Kingston’s underling—and Beauty remembered how other males in the resort’s lobby area leered at her as if ready to devour her. Josh had leered back and even shot them a menacing glare, a warning. Perhaps to protect her. 84

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“You’re losing it,” she said to herself. “You’re giving him way too much credit.” No way was the man even remotely interested in protecting her. Nor could he be interested in her nearly as much as she was in him at the moment. No doubt he’d plumb forgotten about her, and had moved on to his other duties. Back at the window, Beauty stared down at the pool and wondered when she’d been deemed crazy—was it before, or after she started talking to herself? Nearly lunchtime and the pool area buzzed with activity. Not many elves out this close to the high sun, but like lightening bugs, they’d come out again closer to dusk. They weren’t big fans of the sun at its highest or most dangerous. Their skin didn’t burn, but Beauty had read that too much exposure would make them ill. She would go nuts if she didn’t have some companionship soon. Not that she didn’t have all day to brood about Josh. She had to figure out how to turn the two men’s desire into gold or Josh’s next duty might be feeding her to the goblins. As if on cue, her stomach rumbled at the same time she heard the key open the lock. “Hello, Howie,” Beauty called without turning around from the window. Below, by the pool, two pixies had begun to wrestle around on the ground in an attempt to take a wand and flee. Others weren’t nearly as interested, but Beauty was bored. Her entertainment options were slim. “I am no troll,” came a voice like cold water, dosing Beauty where she stood. Beauty spun around, her mouth opened in a round ‘o’. “You!” she gasped. “Me,” Josh snapped as he placed the tray on the table. 85

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He took up her old tray as if it contained dragon droppings. He set out her lunch, something steamy in a bowl, and another pail of water. He slipped the new tray back under the old one, set the dirty dishes on it, and stood up. He faced her. “Where is Howie?’ she asked, not moving from the window, even though the aroma of the soup called to her. She was hungry, but two appetites required satisfying. “No concern of yours,” Josh replied. “Do you have a soft spot for him?” He smirked as he walked over to her, his stare on her face as if he meant to capture her image in his irises forever. Even as Beauty longed to throw him out the lone window, her stomach tingled at the very sight of him in her small space. Howie said Josh didn’t do servant tasks, so why was he here doing one? His fantastic hair fell loose around his shoulders like a shawl. The clear day gave the room a certain brightness that seemed to illuminate his smooth skin and cornflower blue eyes. He wore pants the color of midnight and a shirt the color of pure clouds. “You’re staring,” he whispered, his voice like a far-off storm, thundering, threatening, promising. Beauty frowned, for she could feel the heat that emanated from him. It seemed to land squarely in her chest, and it spread—making her hot all over. Every fiber of her being seemed to be on fire. “So are you,” she replied softly, her voice light, lingering in the air like an expensive perfume. Josh frowned at her. 86

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“You must’ve been looking at me to realize I was staring at you.” “Yes, I guess I was,” he admitted, all hints of macho ego gone with the pass of the gentle breezes. “Did you, uh, see something you like?” Beauty felt her cheeks warm under his heated gaze. Her chest tightened and a strange twirling swished around inside. At once, the ache of desire rushed through her. “I, well, I…” she stammered. Josh stepped closer to her and Beauty couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. It was as if his blue eyes had been fired into sapphires. “What’s wrong? Goblins got your tongue?” “No!” Beauty blurted out and then folded her arms over her chest. Here he was, in the golden flesh, and she didn’t know what to do. If she gave in to the stirring that erupted inside her at his presence, she didn’t think she’d be able to reclaim herself. Once she fell, and she knew this from tales her mother told of her youth, there was no chance of coming back. “Listen, I…” Josh said, retreating from her, giving her space. “Are you going to tell me you weren’t staring at me?” Josh laughed, his smile broad and natural. So is this the chief’s true nature? Beauty wondered. She hoped it was, for she liked him now. Deep within, she felt drawn to him, and the urgency to touch him rose up inside her and she struggled to suppress it again. “No, I’ll be quite honest with you, Ms. Miller. I am, hmmm… This is harder to say aloud.” 87

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“Then don’t.” Josh smirked again, but this time, it was playful. “Scared?” Beauty grinned in spite of herself. She was afraid—fearful of what he might say. Just then, Josh’s face and voice had grown full, emotional—different. “Yes,” she confided. “A little.” Josh reached out and pulled her into his arms. His breath, fiery against her face, was amazingly soft. A fast shiver raced down her spine. But she didn’t want him to let go. This spot was designed for her. “Now?” His voice sounded wobbly as if suddenly, he was terrified. “No,” she breathed and nestled in his arms, lodging her head in the crook between his shoulder and neck. Her heart hammered a hurried fury in her chest. Sweat made her hands slick and she held them on his chest. His scent, a mixture of soap and masculinity, filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and let go. They stood like that for several minutes. Beauty relaxed and she felt comfortable, safe, which was strange because Josh was Kingston’s man. At this, Beauty’s eyes flapped open and she pulled herself from his embrace. “Beauty?” Josh called to her, a puzzled expression on his face. “You’re Kingston’s man,” Beauty said, drawing further away from him, even though her body still longed to be closer. “You-you report to him. This could be some trap, trick, or something ugly. I won’t give into that willingly…” 88

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The brightness in Josh’s eyes spilled out and in its wake, a frosty gaze stared back at her. He was withdrawing, pulling out his own mask to hide behind. The security chief was back. “I am his to command.” Beauty’s throat went dry. She didn’t want to anger him. How could he switch personas so rapidly? It was amazing— how he made his face just like a stone. More than anything, she wanted to be back, nestled in his warmth, listening to his heart beat against her ear. Heck, anything to erase the cold glare. “But I am quite taken with you, Beauty, I shall not lie about that,” Josh said, moving closer to her again. “You have stolen my heart, I’m afraid. And that has complicated things.” Beauty’s heart fluttered at his words, her heart swelling with a slow, steady rush of emotions. She had doubted him at first, but something moved inside her, a quiet assurance that Josh’s words were true. Her fairy forefathers’ intuition, her mother called it. Josh’s confession rang clearly of truth. “You truly mean it.” Josh again snatched Beauty into his arms—the flame of passion igniting in his eyes. He kissed her hard on the mouth, crushing Beauty’s delicate lips beneath his. Within moments, his tongue sought out the deep corners of her mouth, playfully tasting her. When he’d finally released her—breathless and woozy— he walked away. He picked up the tray with dirty dishes and left the room without saying a word. He didn’t have to…he’d made his feelings clear.

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Chapter 12 On the outside of the double doors with dirty trays and dishes littered around his feet, Josh sucked in big gulps of air. He pinched himself and the stinging pain reminded him that he wasn’t dreaming or lost in some self-induced fantasy. Hastily, he locked the doors before he lost total control of the situation and allowed Beauty to go free. He forced his feelings back down into his emotional center. “Idiot!” he said angrily. He kissed her! He kissed her—Jones’ captive! Not only that but he confessed to being totally infatuated with her. How stupid could he get? Internally he groaned. He collected the dishes and trays and started back down the staircase. His words were never more true…things had just become more complicated. Still about ten minutes of splendid closeness had occurred. He’d been bold to grab her—he smiled as he recalled the startled expression on her face—but he had a feeling from the naked innocence in her eyes that she was new to this whole show of affection thing. She’d definitely never been kissed before. Come to think of it, he’d never kissed anyone like that before either. 90

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He smiled in the gloomily shadows of the staircase. Then as he remembered the cold emptiness after she pulled away from him—he scowled. Why wouldn’t Beauty be suspicious of him? He worked for Jones. If the situation were reversed, he’d be suspicious too. He didn’t fault her for that, and it was then, on the cusp of her doubt, that he’d confessed. It was as if some magical force had shoved its hands into his heart and whipped it out into the open air as if proof that his words were true—his feelings, his intentions were noble. Almost like he wasn’t completely in control of his mouth, his words, or even his thoughts. Yet once the words had been spoken, he felt as if he was in control again. Regardless he meant the words…even more so now. He knew he was in complete, totally irreversible love with her. And that made things difficult and extremely complicated. Sure he’d used his female servants in the past to satisfy his temporary bouts of lust. He’d done that since he was fifteen. What prince didn’t hone his skills with the help? This thing with Beauty was quite unique. Josh made his way through the lobby and on to the kitchen, where he deposited the dirty dishes from Beauty’s room. A flutter of fairies buzzed around him and he passed by them without so much as a grin. They pressed close to him. Their wings bumped against him like soft pillows. They tried to stir his attention. The resort hummed with activity, very much like a noisy beehive. 91

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It all sounded like background noise, for Josh’s internal dialogue drowned out all outside sounds. He must figure out how to get Beauty away from Jones. This, he’d decided in the few moments of holding her in his arms, meant he’d be able to keep her with him. Josh was so deep in thought, he nearly collided with Howie as he exited the resort’s front doors. “Whoa!” Howie said, wheeling backward to capture his balance. “Mister Knightly.” “Howie,” Josh said steely. “Sir, Mister Jones requests your presence immediately,” Howie said, his face unreadable. “Where is he?” “In the resort’s office.” With that, Josh turned back into the resort, up the granite stairs, back through the lobby and at the fork in the path, veered left. He’d met with Jones earlier for the daily morning meeting, where Jones ate an egg white omelet, wheat toast and drank vanilla-flavored coffee. As he ate, his lieutenants reported their respective areas’ progress. Josh listened with a smaller cup of coffee and made suggestions only when it involved security. Jones never spoke until after he’d finished his meal and the reporting had been completed. The roundtable meetings never occurred in the slick Humania chic office at the casino. No, Jones conducted these events at his true office, the one located in the resort. No one knew for sure where Jones lived, but Josh knew it must be close to the resort, if not inside it. For their meetings commenced at an early hour—too early for Jones to commute from some faraway home.

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Elves and others gracefully and elegantly spoke in hushed tones and moved with purpose throughout the fragranced hallways. Josh made another right into an alcove that, to a guest, would resemble a dead end. Yet, Josh knew the fake stone wall actually had a handle to allow him entry. He fondled the protruding stones until he found it, a long stone jutting out of the wall at eye level—surprisingly high for a normal door handle. But it wasn’t a normal door handle. As he pushed opened the door, the room, like the casino office, held shades of red. Josh once thought the décor was more practical than stylish—Jones wanted to hide bloodstains the trolls might miss when cleaning up. The chic, sleek sharpness of his casino office wasn’t present in this one. All around, big poofy sofas in shades of rose, salmon and roseate met with cream-toned walls, drapes and accents. Each sofa contained matching throw pillows and dark mahogany wood tables that again, acted in concert with the decor. Seated in his favorite sofa, nestled against the arm with his legs crossed, was Kingston Jones. Despite the noonday sun, he wore slacks of charcoal and a long-sleeved shirt of deep, inky black. In one hand, he held a crystal glass filled partially with elven wine. “Josh,” Kingston said, balancing the glass on the sofa’s arm. The fruity-yet-bitter drink lazily swished around the glass. “Wondering where you’ve been dandling. Listen, about the girl…” Josh breathed out slowly. Had Jones found out about him visiting the girl during her lunchtime instead of Howie? He 93

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had to force his heart to slow down before it leapt from his chest in a shower of coordinating blood-red. Fear caused mistakes. A mistake meant death. Kingston finished as if Josh’s presence or sharp intake of breath had gone unnoticed. “She came through.” Josh blinked. He had no clue as to what Jones meant, but Beauty passed her trial for she remained amongst the living. But what did she do? “Pardon me, sire, but what has the girl done?” Josh tried to make his voice sound as if he couldn’t care less, but within, he screamed the words that so casually came out of his mouth. Kingston stopped talking and stared at Josh, studying his face. It wasn’t new to Josh, so he just returned the stare. Then without a moment’s passing, Kingston roared with laughter. “Of course, I hadn’t explained properly the girl’s talents. For a moment, I thought I’d have to kill you for being rude, young Josh, but then I remembered…” He wiped his eyes and then explained. Josh nodded, a bad feeling making a home in his stomach. It flickered through him like a hummingbird—fast and frenzied. “That moron Miller declared his daughter could turn desire into gold. So, I put the girl to the test. McAfee, the grouch of a dust smuggler out of the woodland village, went to her last night. The girl’s skills were heavenly according to McAfee, ‘bewitching’ was his word…” 94

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A knot of cold, dry realization lodged itself in Josh’s throat. “She-she engaged him in relations?” Josh asked, making sure he understood Jones correctly. Surely the wide-eyed girl in the tower, the one who blushed at his touch, didn’t give herself to a slimy man like McAfee. It made absolutely no sense at all. Kingston sipped his wine. “Yes, did she ever give McAfee the time of his crooked life! He could hardly stand when Howie retrieved him from the room.” Josh suddenly felt sick. “Turned his desire into a sack full of gold, shiny coins. I couldn’t believe it either. Yet the girl did it. So tonight, she will give herself to two men. From that encounter, she shall produce twice the gold!” Josh wasn’t listening. He was thinking. Why would Frank Miller be at the casino playing Humania Hold ’Em if his daughter could turn desire into gold? If anything, the Millers should’ve been hanging out in Humania’s haughtier houses, eating rare foods and drinking elven wine. If he’d run out of money, Frank would’ve been able to pay Jones’ tab. But he couldn’t. Why? Something was off—way off. When Josh tuned back to Jones, he found his boss peering over his glass at him. “Are you well, Josh?” Kingston asked, his eyes, returning to the green liquid in his glass. “Yes, sir. I-I was merely thinking…” 95

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“I can see that,” Kingston replied coldly. “I found it to be a splendid idea,” Josh said, making his voice light and obedient. “I think this is a great idea.” “Two men for Beauty means twice as much gold,” Kingston said, his raven eyes back on Josh. “You agree then?” Josh fought back the impulse to grab Jones and demand Beauty’s freedom. He gritted his teeth to keep the furious words from escaping his lips. “Of course. Your genius knows no end.” Finally, Kingston laughed again after a few tense moments of silence. “No truer words have ever been spoken.” Releasing a quiet sigh, Josh smiled back at his boss. It felt rubbery and fake. He had to find out more about Beauty. There may be hope yet of rescuing her from her prison and into his bed for good. “Sir, where do you require my services today?” Kingston sipped, swallowed, and pondered. “No place special,” he said at last. “All businesses are getting on well.” Josh bid Jones farewell—not meaning any of it—and left. He exited the office, his path set on the security station headquartered on the second floor above registration. He had to discover what was going on. Part of him was repulsed by images of Beauty giving herself to strange men. The part of him that longed to possess her himself and not to share. He’d never been good at sharing. Still a tiny voice rose up, remarkably loud, and proclaimed the girl’s innocence. None of it felt right to Josh. If Beauty wasn’t giving herself to McAfee and others, then how was she turning their desire into gold? 96

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Chapter 13 Dusk brushed the horizon with hues of rust as the sun made its final departure for the day. Beauty—again at the window—groaned in misery. How was she to do the deed and turn a man’s desire into gold? She hadn’t a clue any more tonight than she had the day prior. Already her hands grew damp and her stomach tingled with raw fear. Nausea threatened to turn her stomach and she swallowed. As soon as she turned to the room, the key announced that her trial, the second part, had begun. Startled, scared, and swaying with terror, Beauty raced to the only secure section of her prison—the bathroom. She slammed the door, locking it with a twist of the ancient key. Panic flooded her body, forcing her throat to close. Her teeth chattered as she clutched the monochrome sink so hard, her knuckles had turned white. This was it. Kingston would kill her for sure! Beauty secretly cursed her father. She fingered her necklace and images of her mother rushed to the forefront of her mind. The act alone caused tears to gather in her eyes. “Oh, how, how?” she cried. Searching the room in vain, she found herself staring into the mirror.

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“Beauty?” Kingston’s sonorous voice called through the door. “Your guests—ahem, my guests—have arrived. You will do as Mister Montague and Mister Abrahms ask.” A chill zipped down Beauty’s spine. Tears swelled and splashed down her face. “Here,” she managed weakly. “One moment…” “It best be one moment,” Kingston growled, his voice low like a single swirl of gloom. Beauty stared into the mirror—silently pleading. Her chalky, strained face, blurred by her tears, looked back at her in solemn fear. “Please, please, if you’re there, please…I-I can’t do this on my own…he’ll kill me…I-I don’t want to-to die…” At this, the tension and terror overwhelmed her. She broke down into quiet sobs and wept bitterly until she could produce no more tears—only dry heaves of despair. “Miss Beauty, or whatever your name is,” came a male voice that held the arrogance of wealth—slightly stuffy with a strip of superiority—“We are waiting.” Beauty wiped her face, but her hands shook violently. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom until morning. By then, Kingston’s henchmen would’ve smashed the door from its hinges, dragged her out, and subdued any attempts to protect herself. Mentally, Beauty pictured Kingston slicing her head from her shoulders, and it rolling across the polished floor. Or she could go out and try. Beauty took a deep, steadying breath. With one glance at the mirror, Beauty uttered one final, “Please…”

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To her surprise, gray swirls filled the glass and rapidly cleared. The little man beamed at Beauty from beneath his busy white eyebrows. “Evening, young maiden.” “I-I…hello,” Beauty stammered. Her glee bright on her face. “You came!” “Yes, and is your need the same?” “Oh, yes, kind sir,” she explained, lowering her voice so the men outside the door couldn’t hear. “But my need is greater still. Twice the gold must be produced with twice the men!” “Out!” shouted another man. This one’s voice boomed like a gong—shattering any pretense of being polite. His knocks against the door thundered in the small room, bouncing off the walls with furor. “Now, or suffer our wrath!” “What will you give me to help you?” the little man said calmly, still wearing a wide smile. Beauty fumbled around touching her hair, her person seeking something—anything—to pay the little man. She’d forgotten he required payment. Her heart pounded in hurried heaps of adrenaline. She leaned against the sink. What to give? “What about your pretty necklace?” the little man suggested, still wearing the smile, that to Beauty, now looked slightly sinister. “Oh, yes!” Beauty jerkily yanked it over her head. She held it before the mirror. The little man’s head reached through the glass and claimed it. The door rattled as one of the men slammed his shoulder into it. 99

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Immediately Tendai appeared—nude—her eyes wide and a wicked grin on her face. She winked at Beauty, turned to face the door, and said sweetly, “Coming.” Tendai pointed to the corner behind the door, and the little man disappeared, his smile lingering half a moment longer than the rest of him. “Yes, of course,” Beauty said and tiptoed over to the corner. She pulled the door back toward her to hide. As soon as Tendai was through, she closed it with a squeak. After which she heard Tendai turn the key in the lock. As soon as it clicked closed, Beauty rushed to the keyhole, determined to learn how she could turn desire into gold. Beauty could see the mustard-colored chair. In it sat a large man, wider than he was tall. On the floor at his feet was another man, this one was thinner, well, healthier, with curly corkscrews of hair that broke out in a bushel around his head. The large, round man wore a short-sleeved shirt and pants that threatened to explode into rends of fabric. Now, the man on the floor with Tendai was more pleasant to look at. Sinewy with hardened muscles rippling like those of a pond, the male lay naked in front of her. He had his hands in Tendai’s hair, and before Beauty could blink, he’d snatched a fistful of it. “You will do what I demand,” he growled and licked her face. Beauty flinched, yet she heard Tendai giggle. “Of course, Mister Abrahms.” Amazingly pleased, and a little unsettled by her willingness to comply, the male wrapped his arms around Tendai and 100

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rolled her onto her back. He straddled her, his thighs pinning the woman beneath him. Beauty found the look he gave Tendai to be startlingly animalistic. From her viewpoint, Beauty could see the man’s enormous cock. It was thicker than McAfee’s, and its size made her fearful for Tendai. Beauty moved her eyes from the two on the floor to the partner, the fat one seated in the chair. This one, she surmised, was the one with the stuffy voice and the arrogant attitude—Mister Montague. The brute who tried to take down the door had to be the one on the floor with Tendai. The seated one had removed his trousers, his short, stubby and alarmingly pink penis poked out from a thatch of copper red hair. With a porky hand—his eyes on the two on the floor—he rubbed his cock, stroked it without any real thought as far as Beauty could tell. His shirt remained buttoned up to his neck, where rolls of flesh billowed over the collar; his other hand lay limp against his thighs. Only his one hand moved in a blurred frenzy. And he uttered words, words Beauty couldn’t catch, but with his eyes glued to Tendai’s glistening body, Beauty didn’t need to hear them. She had a good idea of what some of them might be, but she found the obese man disgusting. Now the other man, Beauty found him to be extremely attractive, but not nearly as handsome as her Josh. “Listen to yourself,” Beauty said to herself. “Your Josh…” She grimaced and turned her attention back to the keyhole. 101

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She cringed. The male had his face buried in the most private area on Tendai’s body. Tendai moaned and groaned, writhing in ecstasy—shoving her hips against his face with abandon. With her eyes staring up into the fat man’s face, Tendai rubbed and pinched her taut nipples, shuddering occasionally from the pleasure. Beauty stood up and stepped back from the door. What is happening out there? She didn’t want to watch Tendai please and give herself to two men… Still she needed to know how Tendai turned desire into gold. So with a heavy heart, and damp panties, Beauty returned to her spot on the floor in front of the keyhole. She’d missed some events, because Tendai’s back was to her. The larger man in the mustard chair sat with his head tossed back, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pressed into a tight line. Tendai’s mouth covered his now hardened cock, sucking it as if she could take all the life from him. While her mouth slid up and down Mister Montague’s short phallus, behind her, Mr. Abrahms, whose long, lean cock was rigid with desire, shoved his tool into her buttocks, over and over again. Beauty could not see his face, but she could hear him whimpering in passion—his moans of mumbled words slipped from his mouth. Tendai had one of her hands tucked between her legs where Beauty surmised she rubbed her own clit in time to her lover’s rhythm. Despite pleasuring two men, Tendai moved in concise rhythm forcing the fat one to grunt and the other to groan. How she could do this and still maintain her own pleasure bewildered Beauty. 102

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As soon as Beauty thought this, the trio’s rhythm increased. Now, she would see how Tendai made desire into gold. She eagerly pressed her eye to the keyhole. Yet as soon as the thought flickered through her mind, her eyes grew sleepy. She could smell the magic in the air and she forced her eyes to open. It was but a brief moment. Beauty witnessed the seated man in the mustard chair erupt inside Tendai’s mouth, showering her with his seed. His body tensed—stiff with orgasm. His hand clamped down on Tendai’s head, forcing her to take all of it. At this, the male behind Tendai pumped ever harder, faster, giving her all he got—all of his gorgeous cock until he, too, became tense and he shouted, “Oh yes! Oh, Beauty!” Tendai glanced over her shoulder at him, her hair askew, her mouth stained with the milky drink of passion. She smiled. As he bucked and bumped, the male collapsed onto Tendai, taking her to the floor with him. He wrapped his arms around her and refused to let her go. Beauty’s eyes now became too heavy and they closed in fast slumber. **** Slowly Beauty opened her eyes. Again her back and neck ached from the cramped position she found herself in on the floor of the bathroom. She carefully got to her feet, unlocked the door and stepped out into the room. She’d missed it again. In the mustard chair sat two burlap sacks brimming with gold coins. The two men were gone, as was Tendai. The scent 103

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of old sex stained the air and Beauty could see by the moon she had little time before dawn. Removing her clothes, she hung them on the posts beside her bed. She climbed beneath the covers, feeling disappointed she’d missed the act of turning desire into gold. Despite having slept on the bathroom’s floor for what must’ve been hours, Beauty still felt fatigued and once her head touched a pillow, she slept soundly.

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Chapter 14 Josh checked security headquarters, the casino, and the resort, but he couldn’t find Howie anywhere. Howie had been present during the Humania Hold ’Em game and knew more about the Millers than anyone else, at least as far as Josh figured. Jones rarely gave anyone the big picture. In fact, Jones had this natural paranoia that seemed to be a byproduct of his career choice. Not even during the daily meetings did Josh know or learn all the details of an operation. Each minion received his orders directly from Jones in private. Besides, it was Howie who had been going to see Beauty three times a day. Outside, dusk had fallen and after Josh returned to the resort, he got out of the carriage to a swirl of midnight blues and watery pinks on the horizon. As he headed into the resort’s lobby, he knew at that moment, Beauty was turning the desires of two men into gold for Kingston. He shook his head in disgust and the infuriated green monster of jealousy rose up brutal and fast in his chest, its teeth bared in fury. No one should be touching, teasing, tearing into her lovely thighs—no one but him. For a second, he allowed himself to stand in her shoes—servicing strangers— 105

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engaging their fantasies, wants and wishes, and being unable to say no, or to leave. One day, he’d get Kingston for this—for making her give herself to others against her will just to satisfy his greed for gold. None of it set well with him. As he strolled by the registration desk, an elven woman, dressed in a crimson gown—a tiara atop her head shimmering with emeralds—stopped him, her dark, inky eyes wide with surprise. “Josh!” she squealed. “Oh, my goodness! Josh Prince!” Josh cringed. Not now. He didn’t need to meet up with the elf Princess Raven. She could blow his cover and his attempt to save Beauty. Grabbing his hands and spinning him around a bit, Raven scooped him up into a tight hug. Such an attractive couple drew many gazes and looks as they stood in the center of the lobby area—directly in front of registration. “Imagine! The two of us meeting here,” she prattled on. Her eyes taking in his outfit and then with a somewhat befuddled expression, said, “You should definitely come to my castle. Let me fix you up.” Josh grabbed her elbow and dragged her to a corner hidden in shadows beneath one of the many staircases. He spun her around to face him in the gloom. “Josh!” Raven shouted. “This is not how I expect to be handled. Not by you, or any human!” “Raven, listen!” Josh said, releasing her arm and leaning in close to her ear. “Shush, please, your attention is required at this moment, Princess!” 106

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At his urgency, Raven became very still and focused. Her gaze moved up to his face, searching… “There is terror in your voice, Prince,” she said matterof-factly. “Speak, for I will hear your words. I must know what frightens you. Nothing scares you.” Josh pondered how best to begin his tale. If he lied to Raven, she would know it, for as an elf, she’d be able to taste his deceit. Lying wouldn’t do well by her. Elves took it personally when told untruths. An affront that suggested people didn’t find them trustworthy. “I-I am working undercover to try to get the goods on Kingston Jones,” he said. “I am his chief of security for both the resort and the casino...and other things.” Raven frowned in the dimness of the stairway. “Your father approves of such actions?” Josh smiled. “Of course not,” Raven said, shaking her head, her hair thumping around her waist like a curtain of velvet. “This is dangerous, Josh.” “I know,” Josh replied, relieved Raven hadn’t threatened to tell his father, or give him a lecture. One he didn’t need at the moment. Raven studied his face. “There is more…” “Yes,” Josh said, then sighed. He hadn’t wanted to tell her all of it, for that would endanger his former schoolmate. “There is a girl…” At this Raven’s serious demeanor evaporated. “Of course, a woman. Human, I suppose…” “Yes.” 107

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Raven chuckled. Then upon seeing the seriousness in Josh’s face, stopped short and asked, “Is she in danger? Your face tells everything, but I sense something more…” “She is in grave danger, but that is not what I am in need of right now,” he said. Raven peered at him, her violet eyes narrowed in intense concentration. She was attempting to read his thoughts, well, his emotions and within, Josh tried to quell his true feelings for Beauty. If Raven discovered his love, she may be shocked into jealousy, and Josh didn’t want that to happen either. Times like these often reminded him of how little influence he had over anything. Raven frowned, the creases spoiling her olive skin. “So, you want me to keep quiet about your, er, extracurricular activities?” “Please give me your word,” Josh said. Elves could not lie once they had given their word. If Raven were to utter his secret to anyone, she would be in great jeopardy from the Elven Council—on which her father sat as a high councilman and king. Prison, lashes, etctera may be used to remind the princess of her disservice to her people. Elves take honesty, truth and all, very seriously. “My word,” Raven said with a slow grin. She touched his face, running her cool, soft fingers along his jawline as if placing her scent into his flesh. With a lustful glance, she purred, “You are asking a lot.” “Raven, please,” Josh said, his eyes on her. He’d never seen Raven look more elegant, more royal and more beautiful—but still, her charming smile, pretty face, and lustrous hair couldn’t force Beauty from the spot in his heart…or as the object of his intense desire. “This is not just about me. 108

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Jones is a crook and he’s responsible for dumping fairy dust into all communities—including yours.” At this, Raven stopped purring and grew still, serious once more. “You know this as fact?” “Of course I do! I’m his chief of security. I’m in his inner circle!” “Fine,” Raven snapped. “I will give you my word, but there is one condition.” “Name it.” “If you are injured as a result of this-this business, then I will tell all. Your father, the Elven Council, everyone…” Josh thought this over. If Kingston meant to kill him, or if during the course of his role as security chief, he was hurt, he would need some way to tell his father. Before Beauty’s arrival, Josh had played his role safely, not really caring about the “what ifs” or the dangers of the job. Carefree, he’d always felt he could get out if he wanted. Now he wasn’t so sure. “Agreed.” “Excellent,” Raven purred and grabbed his shirt. With amazing elven strength, she snatched him down to her and kissed him, hungrily and greedily, drawing him in as if he were water to consume. When he at last drew back, he caught Raven licking her ruby lips in delight. “You still taste so good, Josh…” As she snuggled closer to him, he felt himself stiffen. Alluring, Raven stirred his senses, but he didn’t have time for this now. Already night had fallen and his father would no doubt be looking for him. His undercover work swung in the 109

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breeze of chaos, which must be happening at this moment in his home. He had to find Howie. “Raven, another time, perhaps,” he whispered sweetly. “Yes, yes,” she said, drawing back from his, straightening her gown. “Good evening, Josh.” With that, she drifted away, back out into the lighted sections of the hallway. Still hidden by shadows, Josh counted to thirty before stepping out into the hallway. By then, Raven had vanished to whatever activity she was headed to prior to seeing him. Once more, he decided to try to find Howie at the security station. The decision not to return to his suite at home might prove to be a fatal one, if Jones got wind of his true identity. That wouldn’t be good…for him or Beauty. Shaking off the negative thought and trying to remain focused on the task of finding Howie, Josh headed up the stairs, two at a time. As he reached the top of the landing, he wasn’t even breathing hard. Situated directly over the resort’s registration desks, the security observation room monitored all who checked in, out, or hung out around the lobby area. Josh knew they’d witnessed him and Raven, which was why he’d taken her to the hidden spot beneath one of the staircases. The security floor had been segregated into sections— two observation rooms, an office the size of Josh’s walk-in closet, holding cells, and other areas. Josh headed directly for the first observation room, the larger of the two. The second observation room was solely for the purpose of reviewing images captured on the orbs. To do so required a sorceress and a black cauldron. 110

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The orbs glowed as they hovered above the panels, each reflecting a different view of the resort’s grounds and internal passageways. Seated in front of each one sat a troll, hunched over and silent. They didn’t talk much, for the most part, which is why Jones used them. They followed commands, didn’t ask questions, and did a lot of grunt work without comment. “Howie,” Josh called, and the troll seated to the far right closest to the wall stood up. “Sir?” Howie crawled out of the observation room, shutting the door behind him. “Tell me everything about Beauty,” Josh said, not wasting time. He had to find out this information before his father sent the royal knights to intercept him. “Now.” “Well, her father lost a game of Humania Hold ’Em,” Howie began, a dreamy look on his face. “Skip that part,” Josh growled impatiently. “Tell me about Beauty.” Howie glanced down at Josh, but said, “Oh, yeah, okay. Well, she’s getting gold for Mister Jones.” Josh rolled his eyes. “I know that too! Tell me about the girl. How is she making the gold?” At this, Howie shrugged his massive shoulders. “When you visit her during the day, what is she doing?” Josh asked, finally deciding to ask Howie the questions rather than allow him to stumble for details. “She is usually standing at the window.” “And…” “She’s a good girl, Mister Knightly,” Howie explained with a grin on his face. “The room is always neat and she is kind to me.” “You’ve talked to her?” 111

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“Yes,” Howie said and then with a terrified expression on his face, backtracked. “No, no, sorry, I didn’t get that question.” Josh peered at him. Sure, Howie liked to play dumb, but in reality, he was one of the smartest trolls on staff. He had answered correctly the first time. Howie had been talking to Beauty. “Listen, this conversation, the one we’re having right now is secret,” Josh said, whispering, his voice a low murmur. “So, be straight with me and stop lying.” So Howie told Josh everything he knew. How Mister Jones had promised Beauty her freedom, and how as soon as they’d closed and locked the tower door behind them, Jones confessed that Beauty would never leave that room alive. “He plans to slay her then?” Josh asked, after filtering all the information from Howie. “No, she’s making him a ton of gold,” Howie said, all pretense of the drooling troll gone. “If she tries to leave, he will.” Josh nodded, for he was busying thinking of how the two of them could escape Jones. “Well, thank you, Howie. Remember, this is between us.” “There is one more thing, sir,” Howie said as Josh had turned to leave. “Yes?” “The girl, Beauty, asks about you often. At the mention of your name, she blushes somethin’ fierce.” Josh smiled then, a genuine smile. “Thank you, Howie,” he said, and with the grin still plastered to his face, headed down the staircase as if on the wings of Pegasus. 112

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Chapter 15 Beauty had to contain the laughter that hovered at the back of her throat at the expression on Kingston’s face. His eyebrows had shot up into his thick bangs and his mouth fell open in utter shock. He hadn’t expected her to do it, despite having given him a sack full of gold coins the day prior. In his line of work, Beauty surmised he had to be suspicious of everything and everyone. He had a right to suspect some outside influence, yet he hadn’t figured out how she turned desire into gold. After all, it was his idea to lock her in a tower. After several moments of stunned silence, Kingston recovered, and said proudly, “Nicely done, Beauty.” She wasn’t his employee, rather, she was his slave. Again afraid to open her mouth out of fear the truth may come reeling out, Beauty simply nodded. Maybe if she pleased him and she’d paid off her father’s debt, she would be freed. This definitely would be worth her freedom. Kingston lifted both sacks with great difficulty, straining beneath the duel masses, and working hard to cover up that fact. With a grin that looked more pained than pleased, he waddled around to face the doors. He hadn’t brought his 114

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sword with him, but Howie hung out in the hallway awaiting his command. “Howie, come, retrieve the payment,” Kingston called smoothly, calmly, as if both his arms weren’t shaking—like fairies in the snow—in their attempt to hold them up. Without comment or a glance in Beauty’s direction, Howie stalked into the room, took the sacks from Kingston and just as stonily walked back out without so much as a kind greeting. “Mister Jones, sir,” Beauty called as Kingston started for the doors to leave. “Sir, my…my debt. Is it now paid in full?” Kingston turned on his heel. He was no longer smiling. Instead, he smirked in her direction. The look didn’t warm her or give her any comfort, instead, it made her shudder. The hairs on the back of her neck rose up in anticipation of horrific things to come. “I…I am only here until I fulfill my father’s debt,” Beauty managed to stutter. “Right? That’s a business deal…a loan to be repaid?” “Yes, of course, fair Beauty,” he replied, his voice like shots of ice. “Your father’s debt will be repaid once you’ve provided thrice the amount of gold tomorrow morning.” “Thrice?” Beauty gasped, her heart sinking faster than a rock tossed into a pond. Kingston nodded. “Oh, yes. Once you have turned three men’s desire into gold—I will send them to you tonight— then your father’s debt will be paid in full. Your freedom will occur at the same moment I receive the gold.” Beauty didn’t believe him. Her failure to believe him must’ve shown on her face, for Kingston added, “As Howie is 115

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my witness. He is troll bound by honor to bear witness to my words.” “Forgive me, sir, but troll bound honor is not recognized by the Humania courts,” Beauty said with a whisper, the weariness of her upcoming tasks heavy upon her heart. Kingston broke into a grin. “This is not Humania, Beauty. Troll honor applies still.” Could it be that Kingston spoke the truth? This one last task and she’d be free. Free to do what? Be with Josh? Did she want the life of a hustler’s wife? Maybe—if it meant being with him forever. Still, she was putting the carriage before the elves… She must first complete the task tonight…three men. With her heart thundering in her chest, Beauty plopped down on her bed in despair. “Do not look so gloom, Beauty.” Kingston roared with laughter. “Should be an easy feat for you. You’ve technically already provided three bags full…this is just within one, not over two, evenings.” She didn’t even hear the door close. What will I do now? Beauty found it doubtful the little man and Tendai would return to help her out of yet another round. The doors opened again and in walked Howie, a tray and bucket of water in his massive fists. He smiled at her, a genuine grin and put down the items on her table. He glanced at the doors behind him and made sure they were closed. “Howie, why didn’t you speak to me when you came with Kingston?” she asked, rising from the bed and taking a seat at the table. 116

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Howie didn’t sit. The chairs in the circular prison weren’t large enough. “I was with the boss,” Howie said. Speaking in soft tones, his eyes solemnly on Beauty’s face, he continued, “If he found out I even talked to you, he’d have me whipped to within an inch of my life.” “Beaten?” Beauty frowned, taking a grape from the tray. “For merely speaking to a human?” She shook her head in bewilderment. “If I were queen, I’d overturn that law.” “Oh, yeah, but you ain’t, so don’t worry your little head about it,” Howie said and then seeing the frown on her face, added, “Mister Jones won’t find out.” Beauty chewed a few more grapes and drank some water. The fruit—fresh and ripe—tasted sweet and clean. “Howie, tell me about Mister Knightly,” she asked with a whisper as soft as crushed petals. “What do you wanna know?” Howie said, leaning against the doors. He’d lowered his own thunderous volume to match hers. “Everything,” she breathed, closing her eyes but for a moment. She could almost feel Josh’s breath against her face, the warmth of his body as it wrapped around her, and she could hear his heart thumping, beating out its wants in some sort of code against her ear. “Don’t know too much about him,” Howie said, carefully, slowly as if he were still debating internally as to what to tell her. At his hesitation, Beauty opened her eyes and said, “Please, please.” 117

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Howie shrugged. “You must know something of him,” she said, her hands balled into fists. “You work alongside him.” Howie sighed. “Very well. Listen, for this is all I know of him. He came to Mister Jones some three years back. He worked his way up the ladder and became chief a little more than four months ago. He’s quick, stubborn and very determined.” “Determined?” “Oh, yeah,” Howie said, nodding. “The bastard can really stick it to you…” “How so?” Beauty asked, intrigued by this last descriptive word for Josh. “Determined” wasn’t a word Beauty thought Howie used often, so someone else must’ve described him that way. Kingston? “Yeah, it be the reason why he’s chief now,” Howie said. “Mister Jones said that Josh was quite determined and that’s why he liked Josh for the spot.” “What does he do when not working?” Howie shrugged. “Dunno.” “A wife? Family?” Beauty tried to pry open Howie’s mouth, but the enormous troll only shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. That alone intrigued Beauty. Who is Josh Knightly? Why does Howie not know more about his superior? What had he said to her yesterday? You have stolen my heart, I’m afraid. And that has complicated things. Stolen his heart? Did Josh Knightly have a heart to steal? Could he love her the way she was beginning to believe that she wanted to love him? 118

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A life with a man who worked for Kingston might be one of pain and great loss. “Howie, why is it that you don’t know anything about him?” Howie frowned at the question, and was quiet for some time before answering her. “We ain’t friends, Beauty,” he finally snapped. “He got his own life after work and, well, I do, too.” Beauty got up from the chair and went back to the window. Already the sun’s struggle to the highpoint of the day was half over. Lunchtime would be in a few hours. Creatures populated the pool area already, despite the early hour. “Now let me ask you a question,” Howie said from behind her. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. “’Cause I get the feelin’ somethin’ strange is goin’ on here.” Beauty let out a slow breath. If Howie suspected her interest in Josh was anything more than ideal curiosity, then he might warn Kingston. Josh could be killed. So her answer to Howie’s question must be believable at best. “All right,” she said, making her voice sound indifferent—she hoped. “That’s only fair.” “Do you fancy him, young Beauty?” Howie asked, his eyes seemingly glued to her face. “I mean, ’cause the other day he asked to bring your lunch and he stayed for quite a while…” Could she trust Howie? She wasn’t sure. “No,” Beauty breathed, her chest tight with fear. “I don’t know why he asked to bring my tray. Perhaps he finds me a security risk.” Howie shook his head. “Nuh-uh, he was here a good long time. What did you talk about?” 119

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“You’ve been here a good long time, Howie,” Beauty pointed out. “What if the chief or Kingston is at this moment pondering your purpose here…” As realization dawned on him, Howie bolted upright, nearly smashing his head into the ceiling.“I-I’ve got to go!” Howie said and left the room, nearly running through the doors, he moved so fast. Beauty watched him slam the doors and lock them. At their closing, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and collapsed to the floor. “Josh, please, be safe.”

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Chapter 16 Across Humania, far away from Jones’ resort, Josh Prince, known as Josh Knightly, rolled over on his mattress on the floor. A tattered blanket was the only thing separating his body from the lumpy bed. Positioned on the floor, the bed wasn’t what he was used to sleeping in and his body complained with aches and muscle pains as he got to his feet. Stretching only dislodged some of the kinks. The war-ravaged area surrounding his apartment only reinforced his hatred for Jones. The humans had been reduced to fairy dust sniffing, slaying each other with swords or beating each other with their bare hands to get yet another nose full of dust. And it was Jones who grew wealthy on the bodies of so many people. As he told Raven, people weren’t the only ones who’d been trapped in the web of dust smuggling. Elves, pixies, trolls, and others had been drawn to the dust and became addicts. The apartment, one room, contained the mattress and little else. Rubbing the small of his back, Josh saw a dragon fly by, its rider searching the lands for something. Could be anyone in this neighborhood, but Josh doubted it and figured its riders to be looking for him. 121

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His father’s wrath would have to wait. So will those damn meetings. He’d only been away from home once without his father’s permission and that was when he’d run away from the castle. He got as far as the woods before his father’s private army pounced on him and dragged him—literally kicking and screaming—back to the castle. His mother explained that his purpose, his reason for being, was to rule the kingdom one day in the future. She didn’t say she loved him, or that she was frightened by his attempt to flee. Only that he must be careful, for if he was hurt, then no one in their immediate family would be able to rule once the king died. Over time, Josh came to understand his purpose in the eyes of his parents. He was a commodity, a “thing” on which they’d placed all their future hopes. His birth was nothing more than a means to an end. As king and queen, they were to produce heirs and dutifully, they did so. He couldn’t even say he’d been conceived in love. His parents didn’t love each other. He’d never thought they had. Still, once they’d had the required number of children, one of which was a boy, his father went back to pleasuring himself with a plentitude of women, and his mother, well, she went back to sleeping with the knights who guarded her husband during the day. Josh snorted as he pulled the drapes over the barred window to close out the sun, and nosy neighbors. There must be more to love, to marriage, than simply producing heirs.

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Well, there would be for him. He’d raise his children with the knowledge he loved them and that they were more than his attempt to keep the throne in his bloodline. Dressing hastily, he hurried from the apartment, careful to hide his face beneath the shawl he wrapped over his head. If his father sought him, he didn’t want to be caught. Every patrolling knight in Humania would be looking for him. He had to get back to the resort. That’s the last place they’d look for him. So close to Jones—his father would never guess. At least that’s what he was counting on. He stepped down the flat stone steps and out into the bright morning of yet another stunning day. The shawl, a piece of cotton cloth wrapped around his head, might draw more attention than he needed. So, Josh removed it, placing it instead across his chest. He walked briskly down to the corner, where he hailed a carriage driver. Not nearly as nice as the ones in Humania proper, the goblin hissed, “Where you goin’?” Josh gave him the location and how to get there. The goblin licked his eyeball and said, “That’ssss far.” “I’ve got gold.” Josh snapped, a stern expression on his face. “Get me there.” “Sssssure.” The goblin turned back to the steering wheel and the carriage shot down the street blasting toward Humania, a stream of pink sparks in its wake. “Be ssssure to pay your fare, human.” “I will.” Josh noticed the rather long, black metal item with thick spikes which lay on the carriage’s front seat beside the goblin. 123

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Well, the last thing he needed today was a blast to his chest. The landscape zipped by with swirls and splashes of colors. He hardly noticed. As of late, his thoughts returned to Beauty and how he longed to hold her in his arms again. It had been nice, comforting and to his surprise, calming. She seemed to make the earth stand still when he touched her. Howie had assured him that Beauty was human. Still, the fact she could turn desire into gold suggested a witch, fairy or pixie in her bloodline. He hadn’t been able to figure out why Miller didn’t just pay Jones if the girl was a golden goose. Why exchange her for his own life, if she was so talented as to produce gold? None of it totaled up. So Josh stopped thinking about how he’d free her. He had to wait until tomorrow morning to see if she’d be released. Sure, Jones told Howie that he didn’t plan to actually go through with it. If, and Josh had to face it, when that happened, he’d be outside the doors, ready to pounce on Jones. He’d have to deal with the trolls, but Josh hadn’t thought the plan that far ahead. Lustful thoughts about Beauty kept interrupting his logical, strategic planning. He leaned back against the ripped coach fabric and closed his eyes. Immediately he could see her, dressed in the same dress as the day he locked her in the tower. Her curly hair, free, danced along the breeze. She stood before a pond, and she smiled at him—a knowing smile as if she could read his thoughts and enjoyed them. He walked over to her and took her into his arms, feeling her body against his, her breasts 124

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pressed against his chest. They tumbled to the ground, and on the grass’ damp cushion, he removed her dress, yanking it over her head so fast, she’d barely noticed it gone. She let out a soft chortle. There, nude beneath the sun’s warming rays and his own heated gaze, Beauty reached up to him, her head tilting up to meet his lips, her hair free and sprawled amongst the grass. He gave in then—no more pretenses, no more being cautious or safe. He leaned down to her lips and kissed her. This time more passionately, more raw, his desire up front and center…by the witches, he wanted this woman! She yielded to his wants, moaning from his kiss, and as he came up for air, he dove again, down to her neck, kissing and nipping, soliciting one sensual moan after the other. Her fingers went into his hair, snatching it in her spasms of lust. Guiding his head down to her round, firm breasts, to nipples that stood erect, expectant and eager, he pressed his mouth to one, licking it, tasting it, rolling it between his teeth. Beneath him, Beauty bucked, arching her back to meet his mouth. Inside his pants, his passion grew rigid, stone-hard with want. He craved her. “Ssssir, we are here,” the goblin announced, forcing Josh back to reality and out of his fantasy. “Sssso pay up.” Josh opened his eyes and found the carriage parked outside the resort. He dug around in his pocket, produced the gold coin and gave it to the driver. Awkwardly he climbed out of the carriage, his member long and still rigid with desire for Beauty. He waddled up the stairs. He couldn’t go by the registration desk with his cock hard as a frozen wall. He tried to picture something less attractive, something else, anything but the object of his lust. 125

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He couldn’t live like this much longer. Tormenting him from afar, Beauty would never leave his thoughts, his mind, nor his dreams until he’d made her his wife. He wouldn’t be able to do anything of value until the situation with her had been resolved. This one, he’d take to his bed. This one, he’d love and cherish… She, he would make sure, never left his bed without being dutifully loved.

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Chapter 17 After Howie’s visit, Beauty took her time and ate her breakfast—the same as what she ate yesterday and the day before. Fresh bananas, grapes and various berries threatened to topple the bowl that contained them. Today, Howie brought her a mug filled with a type of juice she’d never had. With a strong orange color and tiny flecks of brown in it, Beauty wasn’t sure if it was a potion or something natural. Throwing caution to the wind, she took a small sip. Finding it heavenly delightful, full of robust flavor—something like an orange—she drained the mug within minutes. After such a satisfying meal, she lay about the room, mostly on the bed, writing brief letters to her mother and trying to figure out how she was going to yield three times the gold for Kingston tonight. Yet if she could do it, if she could find a way to make it happen, she’d be a free woman. She pondered temporarily what to do with her newfound freedom. The day grew hotter and thus, so did her room. Feeling sticky and hot, Beauty yearned to swim in the resort’s luxurious pool. She’d gazed upon it for days, and it called to her to come down and splash a bit in its waters. 127

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Groaning, for she knew she couldn’t leave the room, she opted instead for a bath—a nice cool one. There she could close her eyes and pretend to be back home, just outside her family’s cottage, splashing around in the river. She drew the bath, making sure the water’s temperature wasn’t too hot. Already a sauna, she didn’t want to sweat while trying to cleanse herself. Cool drips from the spout would be deeply satisfying and soaking in the gentle water would ultimately cool her off. It would have to do. Once the antique bathtub had filled to the verge of spilling over, Beauty removed her garments, allowing them to fall in a hush to the floor. They needed to be cleaned, washed actually, and once she was free, the first thing she was going to do was rush home and wash her clothes. The water rose up to her chin as she relaxed against the tub’s slope. Her hair rippled down and into the water. She didn’t have a tie to hold it up. Her barrettes lay on the vanity table. They were good for her braids, but poor—too weak— to hold all of her thick hair up from her neck. Besides, her hair needed a good scrubbing, too. She picked up the soap and scrubbed. Every inch received a rousing burst of scrubbing bubbles by the sudsy coarse cloth provided by the resort or from a previous inhabitant. The cold water caused her to gasp once she began to rinse her hair and as she continued to bathe. It grew chillier and chillier until finally, unable to endure it any longer, she climbed out of the tub. With the draft coming in through the partly closed bathroom door, Beauty hurried to remove the wet droplets from her hair, face, and body. 128

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Humming to herself, for she always felt better after a bath, she wrapped the towel around her body and walked out into the room. With her clothes still in a heap on the bathroom floor, Beauty thought only of hydrating her skin with the moisturizers on the vanity. Along with the paper, she’d found some creams, two short jars with elven names she couldn’t read. However, they had been translated into human and one was called Wildseed and the other jar First Flower. She stopped in front of her bed and the towel flopped to the ground without so much as a whisper. Her hair, thick and wet, tangled into a mass of long, corkscrew curls, lay flat against her back, allowing the warm wind to dry it. It was then she felt someone behind her. Before she could look back, she heard his voice gently against her ear. “Beauty,” Josh said, his hot breath sent chills across her naked body. “Josh.” She hadn’t heard the key in the lock. At the sound of his name, his arms slid around her waist as if she’d offered an invitation. She felt his hands on her skin and they seemed to blaze a trail of lightening across her belly. He removed one of his hands, tossed her still wet hair over her shoulder, and then went back to caressing her belly. “I have missed you,” he crooned, pulling her backward into his embrace. “And I you,” she whispered around the lump in her throat. She could feel the huge bulge of his cock growing larger and harder against her buttocks. Instead of being repelled by this, Beauty found herself surprisingly excited by it. With a 129

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squirm of intense desire, she wiggled her ass against his cock, gasping at the size of it against her. “Oooo, oh, girl,” Josh groaned into her hair, his arms tightening their hold. “You tease me. Taunt me…” Beauty heard his words, hoarse with emotion. What does he want? She felt her clit beat with growing interest. Her mind flipped back to the actions Tendai performed on men. Would Josh enjoy those things? “Beauty,” he said, stepping back from her. He folded his arms over his chest as if hugging himself. “Yes?” she asked, her voice higher-pitched than she liked. “Tell me if you want me to leave and never return.” Leave? Never return? Without realizing it, she spun around to face him, her eyes searching his for a possible ploy or prank. “Whatever are you talking about?” Josh didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. His eyes were on her breasts and his mouth had dropped. He hastily closed it and swallowed loudly. “Josh?” Beauty called, waving her hand in front of his face. “Hello?” Startled by her hand waving, Josh blinked and looked at her. “Why do you want to know if I want you to leave?” “I must know if you have feelings for me,” Josh said, his eyes now cast away from her. “Truth. Speak now, for my heart cannot take another visit to you without knowing...” Beauty watched him for a moment. Could he truly want the truth from her? She didn’t think any of it was a game. For had it been, she’d know—somehow. 130

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“I’d die a long, slow death if you were to go away and never return to me,” she said, reaching for him—already missing the comfort of his embrace and longing for more. “Beauty,” he groaned once again, her name a long, hungry growl. “Don’t…you are naked.” At his words, she remembered she was nude. Funny, it didn’t bother her, nor was she embarrassed. Quite the opposite…the looks Josh was giving her and his reaction to her body made her feel good. Thrills rolled over her skin, raising goose bumps and arousing her love button. At that moment, Beauty wanted nothing more than to feel Josh’s hands on her. She didn’t know much about coupling, or sex, but right then, Beauty wanted him to do all the things she’d witnessed since being locked in the tower. “Yes,” she said, her voice throaty and full with an ache only Josh could ease, “I am.” Surprised at her change in tone, Josh’s eyes met hers. She strolled over to him and grabbed his chin. “I want you to love me.” Josh’s eyebrows rose in question—as if he hadn’t heard her right. “You.” Josh grabbed her and kissed her, using his tongue to explore her mouth, taste her and tickle her. She could feel every pulse of his cock as he held her closer, tighter to him. “Please, please, Beauty,” he said and led her to the bed. He stood beside it, his hands rubbing her back, once in a while diving down to knead her ass. “Don’t tease me.” She removed his shirt. “This is no tease.” “Kiss me,” he whispered, his eyes closed. 131

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Beauty planted soft, wet kisses across Josh’s exposed chest. She took her time and slowly made her way up his steely hard abs and up to this throat and down again. She’d seen Tendai take a man’s member into her mouth, but the sheer size of the bulge in Josh’s pants frightened her. When she reached the bottom of his torso, around his belly button, she stopped. Josh shivered. Beauty hesitated. “Touch it,” he moaned, unfastening his pants with shaking hands. “Please, oh, Beauty, touch me…” Once he’d undone the buttons, a gorgeous cock bounced out, bumping her nose. Beauty smelled his musty scent and marveled at his penis. As instructed, she touched it gently with one of her fingers. Josh moaned and sucked in his breath. He then looked at her. She smiled. “You’ve never been with a man, have you, Beauty?” he asked. “No,” she said sheepishly. “I’m a virgin.” She saw him hesitate, but then he decided not to ask any questions. His craving was too strong to pull back to the realm of polite conversation, Beauty surmised. “You want me to lay with you?” he asked, unsure of himself, he again shuffled back from her. Did she? She stood up. “Yes,” she whispered, moving closer to him and boldly grabbing his cock in her hands. Josh’s eyes closed and he held the bed for support. “Gently…” 132

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Beauty needed to show him she meant to have him—all of him. So, summoning up her knowledge from watching Tendai, she rotated Josh so he leaned back against the bed. She got to her knees and touched him again. He shuddered. He removed his shirt and stepped out of his trousers in hurried, jerky motions. “Do you want me, Josh?” she asked, feeling bold and powerful. She squeezed the head of his cock and watched him shudder again. “Yes,” he managed to utter. “Now…right now…” She bent her head and quickly licked him—tasting it, trying it out. She’d never done anything like this before, but Tendai had done it... So could she. “Oh, oh, please, don’t tease me,” Josh gasped. “Take me into your hot little mouth.” Beauty grinned and did just that. She made sure her teeth didn’t nip him and she sucked his cock slowly at first—forcing Josh to grab fistfuls of the bed sheets in his hands. With his head tossed back, his teeth clenched tight, Beauty felt wonderful and completely in charge. Within a few, scant minutes, he could stand it no longer and he gently touched her head, then guided her up and down his cock, mumbling, shuddering and occasionally moaning. Beauty felt her own need growing. She took her free hand and touched her clit, parting her vaginal lips and found them soaking with desire. Placing her finger on her love button, she began to fondle it in rhythm with her mouth on Josh. Grunting, Josh’s hips now began to thrust back and forth in earnest. Beauty could feel his cock smack the back of her 133

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throat. Not that it mattered, for she was closing in on her own release and just when she thought Josh’s climax would occur, he withdrew himself from her mouth, and emptied his seed onto the floor. Beauty watched as he jerked his cock with hard, fast pumps; the creamy globs shot out with sharp speed. Spent, Josh collapsed to the floor on all fours—his breathing labored, his hair disheveled and free from its tie. After several moments of deep breathing, he pulled Beauty toward him, and said, “Lie back.” She did as he asked, her own love button throbbing. Would he enter her now? Would she lose her virginity on this floor? With careful caresses, Josh spread her legs wide and with smooth fingers, he parted her nether lips. Beauty felt his breath on her most private area and it tickled. Before she could even form the words to ask what he was doing, his tongue met her hot and twitching clit, sending spasms of excitement through her. “Oh, oh, oh…” was all she could manage. His tongue seemed to search out her love button and enjoyed rolling it, licking it, and occasionally nipping it. Darting in and around her engorged clit only, Josh seemed to be enjoying himself. Beauty’s hips moved in rhythm. She lost track of time, place, everything but Josh’s tongue and the enormous rush that threatened to consume her as she closed her eyes. It was pure ecstasy! Then it swelled inside her and she craved nothing more but release. She bit her lip to hold back her shouts as the 134

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waves of orgasm spilled over her, nearly drowning her in uncontrollable emotions. At last, when the final wave had moved on, Beauty found her face wet with tears. She cried as Josh scrambled up to her and took her into his arms. “Did I hurt you, love?” “No, no, I…I…” She couldn’t finish and instead, nestled closer to him. He didn’t say another word—holding her was enough.

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Chapter 18 It came to pass that the evening of Beauty’s third day in the tower drew to a close. Beauty retreated to the bathroom as the horizon burned the sky with purple and watery pink hues. The sweet, tender moments shared during lunch with Josh had paled to nothing more than a pleasant interlude. Fear quickly eroded the pleasure she’d felt earlier. Again gripping the porcelain sink, Beauty’s eyes swelled with tears of despair. How was she to summon Tendai? If she were to try, would the little man even come back? She stared into the pewter-lined mirror. Sad and frightened eyes, brimming with tears, stared back at her. This must be the end. Another day of agony would certainly kill her. All Beauty knew for sure was that she couldn’t do this forever. Her nose burned and soon tears spilled over and raced down her face. She wept in deep, racking sobs, feeling uncertainty overwhelm her. All thoughts of Josh evaporated from her mind. The immediate situation consumed her like a raging fire. Soon Kingston would arrive with the three men and she’d have to give herself to them. 136

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Then the key in the lock forced her emotions to overflow and Beauty burst into a fresh bout of tears. “Beauty…” Kingston called, a hollow ringing in his voice. “Your guests are here. Remember our discussion this afternoon.” A pit plummeted from Beauty’s throat down into her stomach. The time had come and once again, Beauty must prove herself. And she was out of options. “Please, let me be able to do this,” Beauty whispered to the bathroom ceiling. “I must do this for freedom…for Josh.” She longed for nothing more than to be free, and if it came down to a choice, she’d pick freedom over Josh— though it would be a difficult decision. “Oh, witches!” Beauty cursed. “What am I to do?” Just then, as before when her desperation was at its greatest, the little man appeared through the swirling gray of the mirror’s glass. “In dire straits again,” he said, although it didn’t sound like a question—it was more of a declaration. “Yes,” Beauty confessed, swallowing her tears. Unlike the other times he’d come to her mirror, the little man’s voice held no compassion or warmth, only cold indifference. Something had changed, but Beauty had no time to try to figure it out. She needed his help. Already she could hear the men outside the bathroom door grow restless. “What will you give me in exchange for my help?” Panic flooded Beauty’s system and for a moment, she blacked out. “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Give you?” 137

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“Yes,” the little man said. “Payment, of course, for my services to you.” Beauty bit her lip. He already had her ring, her necklace…she didn’t have anything else to give him. Oh, witches, then he wouldn’t help her at all. “I-I have nothing to give,” Beauty said, crying bitterly at her fate. After several long moments of harsh sobbing, Beauty heard the little man clear his throat. “Perhaps there is something you can give me as payment.” Beauty’s breath caught in her throat. What does he mean? Has he been planning this all along? What can he possibly want from me? “What?” The little man’s eyes glistened like coal, and he said, “Your virginity, of course.” “My—my what?” Beauty gasped, feeling her throat close in horror. “Promise your virginity to me, and I will turn those men’s desires into gold—thrice the gold.” How the little man knew she was a virgin, Beauty didn’t know. She bit her lip in indecision. She’d always thought she would give her virginity to someone she loved, her future husband, Josh. The choice was clear—lose her freedom, or her virginity. “Okay, deal,” she said. “My virginity is yours—only save me this nightmare tonight.” “Agreed!” the little man said, his face gleeful as it faded into the mirror.

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Tendai appeared at once, again naked and sporting a smirk. She left the bathroom just as she’d done the previous two nights. Beauty, feeling drained and deeply terrified, wept silently as she collapsed to the bathroom floor. Would she have to engage the little man in sex, or did he have something more sinister in mind? Beauty couldn’t force herself to watch Tendai work over the three men in the room. She laid her head back against the door and stared at her palms. What would Josh do once he found out she wasn’t a virgin anymore? Would he think her a liar and abandon her to fate? She didn’t know…she just didn’t know.

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Chapter 19 As usual, when it came time to witness Tendai turn desire into gold, Beauty felt herself completely and totally befuddled. Drowsy, she’d immediately fall asleep, thus forgoing any actual knowledge of how the ritual or charm was done. Again, she awoke to find herself asleep on the bathroom floor. She stood up hastily, afraid she’d slept longer than necessary. If Kingston found her asleep on the floor, he’d slay her on the spot—or worse…revoke her pass for freedom. Beauty scrambled from the bathroom. She stopped abruptly once she’d crossed the threshold. There, piled onto the mustard chair, were three sacks protruding with gold. At least he kept his end of the bargain. Now, if only she could muster the courage to keep hers. She didn’t sleep well that night, and she tossed and turned. Her mind was tormented by thoughts of torture or forced servitude to the little man. Maybe that’s what Tendai was, a slave to the dwarf, performing these acts to gather profit for him. A pimp of sorts, Beauty thought with a shudder. What had she gotten herself into now? Had she in fact, swapped one boiling cauldron for a larger one? It seemed like days had passed before dawn finally arrived. 140

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Then suddenly it did, pouncing on her in the form of Kingston Jones. She awoke to find him at the foot of her bed. Howie stood behind him, lifting the three large sacks with a flourish. “Beauty,” Kingston leered, his right hand on his sword. “You did it once again! Reliable and efficient. Had I but twenty more of you, I’d be a very happy man.” Beauty nodded slowly, pulling one of the many pillows tightly into her embrace. She doubted Kingston knew anything about happiness, though she had little courage to say so. “Then we are done?” she asked in a whisper. “I am free to go.” At this, Kingston laughed. “Poor, Beauty. You really think I’d let you go when you’ve made me so much gold?” “I expected you to act as a professional businessman and not the criminal you truly are!” she spat out, suddenly furious, for she had promised the little man her very body, her most sacred gift, all for nothing. Had she but known Kingston would negate the deal, she would have allowed the men last night to kill her instead! Kingston laughed again. “Howie, she’s so much more attractive when she’s angry.” Beauty threw the covers back from the bed and hopped down to the floor with her fists in tight knots, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, and her heart slamming furiously in her chest. She was trapped once again—hoodwinked by Humania’s biggest hood. Kingston raised his sword. “Do not, little girl, bite the hand that feeds you. I’d have to cut your head off.” 141

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With that, he left the room, slamming the doors shut and locking them. Beauty felt as if she were being smothered because she couldn’t seem to get enough air. What had she done? Had she leapt from the skillet to the boiling cauldron? How could she have trusted a crook like Kingston? She fled to the window, gasping for air, trying to will her heart, her mind, her very essence to slow down and think. There must be a way out of this. Somehow. What more could I possibly give? She’d already given her most sacred gift, her most private, personal piece of her person—one she had so wanted to share willingly with Josh. Now even that too Kingston had stolen, just as he had her innocence about the decency of people. Now feeling as if all hope were lost, for what could she possibly trade or use to persuade the little man to release her from her commitment? Nothing—she had nothing left to give, which was how she ended up in this situation. And how was she to continue generating bags of gold when she had nothing else to pay the little man with? Kingston would surely kill her once she failed to deliver his gold. Having supplied it for three nights, he would think her inability to produce the gold to be deliberate. Oh, the horror of his rage, Beauty thought and closed her eyes tightly. That’s if the little man didn’t drag her through the mirror and into some foreign place where she’d be forced to service creatures of all kinds—like Tendai. A slave to his will. At this thought, Beauty began to dry heave and collapsed to the floor in agony, terror flooding her senses and forcing her to cry and scream in alternating anguish. 142

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She remained in this state until late in the day, when the cloudy, overcast sky seemed to accelerate the approaching night. Weak, hungry, and emotionally drained, Beauty made her way into the bathroom where she had resided when Kingston arrived nightly with her guests. More out of habit then knowledge that Kingston would bring still more men, Beauty sat on the edge of the tub, staring into to the crevices of the floor, feeling as if her life, her very existence meant nothing at all—a token to be traded by men. Again huge tears slipped down her cheeks, and she pondered how best to escape her trauma. It was then the mirror grew steamy and gray and the little man appeared—as he often did, when she was most desperate. Unlike before, he stepped through the glass and floated down to Beauty’s side in a cloud of misty gray smoke. Dressed in an outfit of vivid green, he didn’t even reach Beauty’s bellybutton. “You owe me, young lady,” the little man said, his voice slightly more nasal when not behind a mirror. “Pay up before your sweet prince ruins the prize.” “Please,” Beauty said between sobs, “there must be something I can do, a way I can pay you…” She fell into bitter weeping, unable to speak words, and she tried to catch glimpses of the little man between her tears. The little man adjusted his tie and cleared his throat loudly. Beauty stopped crying and looked up at him. “I will give you three days. At the end of that period, you must guess my name, or your virginity is mine!” “Your name?” Beauty stammered. 143

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“Three days from now, at dusk, you must guess my name. Not a day more!” the little man said and spun into nothing. Glad the nasty little man had left, Beauty began to weep again, for how could she guess his name? The world contained hundreds of thousands of names in troll, fairy, elven, and human. Where would she even begin? But this thought was hastily shoved away at the sound of the key in the lock of the door. Knowing Kingston had again brought her someone to entertain, and realizing the little man would not be there tonight to save her, Beauty crawled backward from the bathroom door. “Beauty, there are guests here for you. Remember my words from this morning,” Kingston called, his voice singsongy but forcing Beauty to cringe in absolute fear nonetheless. Shoving her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming, she balled herself into a tight knot, hoping to the heavens that her death would come swiftly and soon.

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Chapter 20 “We must hurry!” Josh panted as he took the stairs to the tower two at a time. “It falls night already!” Howie could only puff in agreement, for all the running had winded him greatly. Behind Josh and Howie, a troop of sixteen royal knights followed, their armor clattering in the tight stairway. As they reached the doors, the commander, a young lad named Francis, whispered, “Sire, I must ask that you explain the situation here. The king explicitly stated we are not to go near Kingston Jones, and to be quite frank, sire, you are to be contained within your quarters.” Josh smiled and turned to the commander. He’d been through all of this before, when he’d snuck back into the castle and rounded up the royal knights. Most of the higher level knights were with his father, out scouring the land for Josh. The remaining few he could convince to come with him were here. Yet the commander, this Francis, hadn’t wanted to come, nor had he believed Josh’s claims of Jones’ treachery. No, Francis had come only because he didn’t want to be left behind when the king and the generals arrived. “I shall not explain again,” Josh said coldly. “If you question my orders once more, Francis, I will separate your idiotic 145

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head from your shoulders. Do you understand? Or should Howie translate it into trollish for you?” Francis opened his mouth, but no sound escaped. He searched Josh’s face carefully, thoroughly, and finally shook his head that he did understand, perfectly clear. “Good. Now,” Josh said, projecting his voice down the stairwell without raising it loud enough so Jones could hear, “inside is Jones. He is wanted for crimes against the kingdom, dust smuggling, creature trafficking, and a long list of other offenses. Take him immediately. The girl is to be unharmed. If any harm shall befall her, then you all lose your heads at first light.” A grumbling swelled up in his wake, but once those at the front of the stairs saw the stern determination on his face, it rippled down to the others, settling until it vanished. “Yes, Your Highness,” said one of the knights from the rear. That’s more like it, Josh thought, then turned to Howie. “You take Jones down if he in any way threatens Beauty and I am unable to get there. The sacks of gold you carried out this morning will be your reward. You should be able to live off that quite well.” Howie nodded. “Yes, of course, Your Highness.” Josh gave him a wide grin and said, “Okay, Howie, take it down.” It took only one hard shove of his massive shoulder into the doors’ center to force them to buckle. Howie rushed in, followed by Josh and the knights. Josh only wanted to see her face, smiling, happy to see him. To have her light up like a pixie’s wand would forever give him joy, regardless of how old she grew to be. 146

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As he raced into the tiny room, he found Jones at the bathroom door, his back to the room. The three other smugglers, one a goblin whom Josh knew to be Larry the Licker, lay on the floor as if at a brothel. Jones turned around slowly, his hand still on his sword, his movements deliberate as always. “Josh, what is the meaning of this?” he asked calmly, his eyes taking in the knights behind Josh. “You will address me as sire, or I shall have your head!” Josh growled, his own sword unsheathed and ready to strike. “I am Joshua Charming Prince, heir to the throne and your lord!” Kingston’s eyes widened and his lips drew back into a smile. “Oh, ho, a prince? Heir to the throne? What will your father say of this?” “I say you are under arrest for violations of the Humania creature trafficking law, dust smuggling, kidnapping of a princess, yes, Beauty is a princess, and to many other vile acts I shall not waste my time listing.” “You? Arrest me?” Kingston said, lifting the sword. He laughed and beckoned Josh forward. “Come and try to take me by force. I shall not go willingly!” Josh could feel the adrenaline pour into his veins. To engage Jones in swordplay would run the risk of him dying. No, Josh wanted Jones to live a long life—in a dungeon. At this point, Howie grabbed the vase from the table and threw it at Kingston’s head so hard and so fast, it smashed directly into its target, sending his boss to the floor in a heap of unconsciousness. “Excellent, Howie!” Josh shouted. “Arrest everyone!” 147

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The knights set about this task as Josh made his way to the bathroom, stepping on Jones in the process. He knocked gently on the door. “Beauty,” he called softly. “It is I, Josh.” He heard some muffled screams, and he tried the door. Locked. “Beauty! Beauty! It’s me, Josh! Open up!” He heard the sound of rushing water and his fingers fumbled and slipped on the key. He didn’t have time for this. Something is wrong! “Howie! The door! Beauty is in trouble!” With two large steps, Howie was in front of the door. He balled up his fist and punched the bathroom door to shreds. “Thank you!” Josh dashed into the room, where lying in the tub— quickly filling with water—lay his beloved Beauty. “Beauty, it’s me!” She opened her eyes slowly, for they were red, raw and puffy. “Josh?” “Yes,” he cried and turned off the water. “Me. I am here to rescue you.” Slowly she sat up, her hair and clothes wet. She looked up at him and frowned. Please, let her be all right. Josh took her hands in his. So cold they are, so very cold. What was she doing? Shocked, Beauty’s hand covered her mouth, a scream still buried in her throat. “Why are you dressed like this? Why are you here?” she asked, her voice faint. 148

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“Come, I will explain, but we must get you out of these clothes,” he said, grabbing a towel and lifting her from the tub. She shivered against him, her fingers like ice on his forearm. His heart hammered out a prayer as he placed her down on her bed. Immediately, he began to dry her body. She slumped over as if weak. “Who are all of these people?” she asked, her voice growing ever quieter. “The room is filled with men in shining armor and unsheathed swords.” “Howie!” Josh called once more. “Food, she hasn’t eaten today at all. Oh, and clean, dry clothes.” Howie disappeared through the now demolished doors of the tower room. Josh was dressed in amour bearing the king’s crest on his chest. A bright blue cape fell from his back. “Beauty, are you all right?” She felt his hands on hers and she swallowed with great difficulty. Behind him, royal knights were lifting Kingston to his feet. They placed magical bracelets on his wrists—similar to the ones Josh had used on Beauty. “What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes finally meeting his. “Are those royal knights? Why are you dressed like one of them? Are we being arrested?” Josh smiled. “Too many questions…slow down, Beauty. First, allow me to introduce myself, I am Joshua Prince, heir to the throne.” “You’re who?” she asked, her eyes rolling in their sockets. 149

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He frowned, a knot tightening in his stomach. He didn’t come all this way, plan all this, just to lose her now. He refused to let Jones win. “A prince, but more importantly, I am the man who loves you.” She glanced around him. Francis stood waiting. Josh followed her gaze. “Take Jones to the dungeon at my father’s castle. I will be there shortly.” “You’ll pay for this, Knightly!” Kingston shouted as he groggily got to his feet. He held his hand up to his head, where the area around his eyes was already blackening into bruises. “I’ll have my revenge!” Josh again looked back to Beauty. “Come closer, love,” Josh said, his voice a heated flame, his palm outstretched—ignoring Kingston. “We have much to discuss.” She gave him her hand and it lay limp. “Do not worry. I will bring you back to health. Let the despair that so ravaged you be no more.” He felt the lump lodge in his throat. Not now, not ever would he allow anyone to take her from him. “Does this mean I’m free?” Beauty asked, her eyes bright with tears. “Yes,” Josh said, grinning broadly. “This also means you can be my wife…if it pleases you.” “Yes! Yes!” she squealed in delight. “I want to be where you are!” “And I, you,” Josh said back and kissed her hard and long. 150

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The room emptied and the two remained, locked in each other’s embrace. “I must eat first,” Beauty added with a dry laugh. “Of course,” he said and helped her out of her wet clothes. Stuffing her underneath the piles of covers and blankets, he helped her sit up, propped by pillows. “Once Howie returns and you are well, we shall leave this room forever.”

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Chapter 21 And leave the tower they did. Beauty spent her first night as a free woman in the suite opposite Josh’s, her days locked in a tower behind her. She’d never known such freedom and lavishness. She could walk the grounds, swim in the pond in the forest, ride unicorns, and discuss dress ideas with elves. Although not a princess by birthright, everyone in the castle had been instructed by the king to regard her as such. He seemed quite pleased that Josh had both chosen a bride, and taken down a kingpin. Furious at first for the danger Josh placed himself in, the king was glad to have his son home and the disgusting business of dust smuggling temporarily stopped. The king had also sent for her parents at once and she expected to see them tomorrow, perhaps as early as breakfast. Yet now, as the moon illuminated the sky, Beauty sat alone in her suite, feeling the small finger of worry slip up her spine. Despite what Josh had said, she wasn’t totally free, was she? The little man’s words haunted her. Beauty, in her joy at having been rescued from Kingston, had nearly forgotten her commitment. She had three days and not one day more to guess the little man’s name, or her hope of marrying Josh would be just that—a hope. 152

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Her body couldn’t produce any more tears and she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Josh arrived shortly thereafter, his eyes bright and his mood cheery. “I’ve come to kiss you goodnight, love. Jones will be sentenced tomorrow,” he said and kissed Beauty on the cheek. When she didn’t stir, he frowned. “What is the matter?” She hesitated and then began crying anew with large tears coursing down her cheeks. “Come, Beauty,” Josh said, “There shall be no secrets between us. We are to be wed soon.” She stared long and hard into his eyes, searching for truth. Then, feeling she had no choice but to tell him, she did. In a hoarse whisper, Beauty recounted how the little man helped her turn desire into gold, that she was still a virgin, how she had given him her family jewelry, everything. When she had finished at last, she feared to look Josh in the face. Josh sat in silence, his legs crossed as he sat in the chair beside her bed. “Please, do not be angry with me. I-I did what I had to, to survive.” “Angry?” Josh said, twisting to face her. “I am excited you did not give yourself to those vile men! Brave Beauty, I can never be upset with you. Nonetheless, this does create a problem for us.” “A problem,” Beauty remarked. Josh nodded. “To be my wife, you must be a virgin. This dwarf wants to take it from you. If he succeeds, then you and I cannot wed.” 153

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Beauty felt her heartbeat increase, galloping toward panic. “So, if we don’t discover his name,” Josh said gravely, “we will be lost.” They held each other tightly. “I’ve got it,” he said, carefully pulling away from her. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” He took Beauty’s hand in his and said, “We are going to send men out into Humania and the surrounding villages to put together a list of names. Surely his name will be on it. We will not stop until every rock is overturned, every name is catalogued and deposited at your feet!” Perhaps for the first time in days, Beauty relaxed—truly let go and leaned back into Josh’s arms.

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Chapter 22 Beauty felt confident about Josh’s fantastic plan to scour the kingdom collecting names. As the first set of messengers arrived with lists, her enthusiasm rose. They addressed her as “Princess Beauty” and continued to gather and collect hoards of names. Josh allowed her to be in charge. He had meetings to attend and he didn’t want the little man to learn of their plan. She saw her mother and father. The Millers were given an allowance by the royal family and Beauty walked with them through the gardens. They spoke of forgiveness and family. “I knew you’d figure out a way to get Kingston,” Frank said, beaming at Beauty. “Shut it, Frank,” Mrs. Miller said, taking Beauty’s hand and drifting ahead of him. “Beauty,” Mrs. Miller said, “did you not keep the items I gave to you?” Beauty sighed heavily. How best to tell her mother the entire trauma she had experienced in a mere three days? She couldn’t confess that their newfound hope of being married to royalty may not come to pass. That she allowed, indeed paid, a strange woman to engage men’s desires. She simply had to find the little man’s name, for not only her fate rested in the one title, but that of her parents also. 155

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“Answer me, daughter,” her mother urged gently. “They—they were taken from me,” Beauty said quietly, hating the facts of her situation. “I will get them back.” Her mother’s eyes met hers and she studied them. “Of course you will, dear,” she said and hugged Beauty close. **** As it was now the appointed time, the little man appeared in the sitting room of Beauty’s suite, his beaming smile didn’t make her unsettled or doubtful in any way. She’d rid herself of the man this very evening. “So your soon-to-be-queeness, have you discovered my name?” he asked briskly. Beauty unrolled the first of several scrolls. “Yes, little man.” “Okay, what is my name?” “It is Herman.” “Nope.” The little man shook his head and cackled. “Try again.” And so Beauty did. “Harry, Herald, Hale, Harris, Francis, Fred, Frank, Falcon…” Hours passed as Beauty went through one scroll after the other to no avail. When she had exhausted her current list of names, the little man danced around and sang, None of those names are mine! But, lady, you still have time. Two more days shall hurry past, Your time here won’t ever last. Once finished, he disappeared from sight. 156

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Later when Josh returned from yet more meetings, she told him all about the names and how none belonged to the odd little man. “Do not fear, Beauty. More messengers will arrive tomorrow. We shall try again.” Beauty wasn’t so sure that tomorrow would be any different. **** Tomorrow arrived with speed. And as promised, messengers arrived to deliver yet more scrolls lined with names for Princess Beauty. So many, she thought the little man’s name must surely be on one of them. And so it was that second dusk, when the little man appeared in the sitting room of Beauty’s suite again, his beaming smile bright and confident, that Beauty didn’t worry quite as much. Her virginity remained hers until such a time as she was wed to Josh, now that they were to be married. That had been decreed by law. The royal family had to make sure that if Beauty became pregnant with child, it had indeed been sired by Josh and not a former lover. “All right, I am here. Have you guessed my name?” the little man said with a snide tone. “Yes, I have,” Beauty said, clearly and unrolled the first scroll. “It is William.” The little man shook his head in laughter. “No.” “Wally, Waldo, Wharton, Willie, Waldon…” Over several more hours, longer than the day before, Beauty read off the names on each scroll. Each time, the little man shook his head that none of the names she spoke were his. Exhausted, her voice strained, Beauty dropped the last scroll to the ground. 157

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The little man danced in glee and sang. None of those are my name, you see You have but one more visit from me After that you’ll give up tea And hand over your virginity! Once finished, he disappeared from sight. Later, when Josh met her in the hallway heading toward a late dinner, she told him all about the names and how none belonged to the little man either. “Surely one of the names must be his.” Josh frowned, his eyes burning like a smoldering fire. “The messengers will return tomorrow again. His name must be amongst those!” Beauty feared asking what would happen if the little man’s name was not amongst tomorrow’s scrolls.

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Chapter 23 The rain slanted against Josh’s face, hammering him with pellets of surprisingly warm water. He could feel the droplets slide down his back as it ran through his hair and down the end of his braid. As he waited on the steps of the elven castle, Graymoor, Josh ran through the reasons again. He had to be convincing, or Raven would not help him. There weren’t any other options. As the doors opened, the greeter didn’t grin at Josh. “Name?” the stooping, old elf asked. “Joshua C. Prince,” Josh said and remained standing— growing more wet by the minute. “And who are you here to see, Mr. Prince?” Josh wanted to grab the elf, throw him aside and stride up to Raven’s suite. Yet, doing that would get him nothing but more trouble than he needed just now. Patience. He sighed within. He must have patience or Beauty would be lost to him. “Princess Raven, if it pleases her,” he said formally. Formality amongst the elves was nothing new. It seemed to be coded into the fiber of their very being. Failure to follow formality meant an immediate disciplinary action.

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“This way, sire,” the weathered elf said with a slight drawl as if human language tired him in some way. “Follow me.” Thankful to be out of such an awful downpour, Josh tried to settle his racing emotions. Raven would read him like an open book if he continued on this track. He had to calm down. They walked through unlit rooms clouded in gloomy shadows and candlelit corners and corridors that cast about an eeriness which reeked of old magic and sorcery. That was precisely what Josh was counting on. He couldn’t lose Beauty. They’d come so far, been through so much in their short time together. Nothing, if he could do anything about it, would keep her from him. No matter the cost. They stopped at a large, oval door made of solid pine. A silver door handle was the only outside marking or identifying piece. Josh frowned. “This is not Princess Raven’s quarters.” The elderly elf nodded. “Sire, this is where she now resides.” Knocking on the door and then seemingly gliding away, the elf faded back into the shadows as thunder clapped overhead. Feeling suddenly cold in his soaking clothes, Josh awaited Raven. He couldn’t believe she’d give up her enormous, top floor suite for this cubbyhole tucked in the rear of the castle. The door opened with a creak, nearly a whine of sorts, and a voice called out. “Come.” 160

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Josh swallowed what was left of his pride, focused his mind on the job he had to do, and entered. As he entered the dimly lit room, he found Raven standing next to a roaring fire. The flames burnt green and tossed out a scent that smelled like a forest. “You come to me with a desire to save your princess,” Raven said, her voice barely a whisper above the lapping flames. “You have broken my heart, Joshua Prince.” At her words, Josh stopped immediately in his tracks. Fear inched upward from his stomach to his throat, burning a path as it went. He swallowed with great difficulty. He was here to save Beauty. Truth. “I am here, Princess, for your help,” he said, trying to steer the trembling out of his voice. If Raven refused him, what would he do then? “You have injured me,” she said, her back still to him. Unable to see her face, for it was lost in shadow, Josh sighed. Raven was determined to draw this out. Elves—he had to play along, allow her to take her time to get to her point. “If I have done thee any harm,” he said, suppressing the chills that blanketed his arms, “I am sincerely sorry. It was unintentional.” She swung around then, her eyes round and large with fury. “It was not intentional!” Gliding toward him, as only elves and vampires seemed to do well, she was on him in minutes, her thin hand filled with a fistful of his tunic. “You are to be wed, Josh! To a human!” she cried, her lips quivering. Soon tears spilled over and coursed down her slender cheeks. “You knew we were to be married!” 161

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At this, Josh frowned. “There was no joining of families. What do you mean by this?” Spinning away from him, releasing his tunic and going back to the fire, Raven said, “No, no there were no treaties or written arrangements. Yet, you’ve known since our youth of my love for you.” Josh sighed. Raven was phrasing everything just so—just so he couldn’t lie or give partial truths. No, Raven wasn’t giving him much wiggle room at all. Lying to her now would only make matters worse. So, he did the only thing he could do. He told the truth. “Yes.” “And yet you still wish to marry another!” she barked, growling in rage. “Why do you do this?” “I do this because I love her, Raven,” he said, temporarily forgetting his need of her services. “I am in love with her. I will marry her!” “And your love for me?” Raven asked, quietly. Too quietly for Josh’s taste. Yet another attempt to entrap him. If he answered truthfully, he knew Raven wouldn’t perform the service he needed to save Beauty from the little man. Answer with a lie, and he’d be in serious trouble with the Elven Council. “My feelings for you have always been of great fondness and admiration,” he said, staring down at his boots, watching his chances to save Beauty drift off into the dirt floor like the rainwater. “Admiration?” she cried, now hugging herself as she paced in front of the fire. “Fondness!” Josh cringed at her shrieks. Surely he’d known that Raven cared for him, but this much? 162

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Several silent moments slipped by until Raven spoke at last. “What have you come here for, Josh?” “I have come to ask your help,” he said reluctantly. “But I have found your grief to be both unexpected and incredibly earnest. I shall bother you no more.” Raven came to him with a look of utter shock on her pale face. “You came to ask me for help?” she asked, her eyes searching her face. “You meant the words you spoke?” “Of course,” he said. “I have never lied to you, as I have constantly been your friend.” She smiled and the candles within the room grew brighter. “No, you have not,” she said, wiping tears from her face. “Do you still wish my help?” “Only if you intend to give it freely, Princess, and without malice,” Josh said, feeling the warming hints of hope on his face. He smiled too. “My heart goes where it wants and cannot be pulled or forced. This you know, Raven.” “Yes, you speak truth,” she said, her arms still hugging herself. “What is it you wish?” And he told her, everything. About the little man and how he helped Beauty turn desire into gold and how he now requested Beauty’s maidenhood for his own selfish purposes. Raven sat still the entire time he spoke, until at last, she said, “You wish to know his name?” “Yes.” “Then go to the inn at the edge of Olden Hills. There you will find what you seek,” Raven said and pulled her hood over her head. “Thank you,” Josh said and kissed her hand. 163

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He had no idea if Raven had honestly helped or hindered him. He would just have to see for himself. There weren’t any other options.

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Chapter 24 The final day arrived and Beauty set about organizing the scrolls as messengers brought them up to her. Josh hadn’t returned from his meeting in the elven city of Graimere and Beauty found his absence both mysterious and worrisome. Surely he understood the consequences if she failed to provide the little man’s name this evening at dusk. She simply had to discover his name or else—she’d be lost to Josh forever. Dread sank like a stone into the bottom of her stomach. Unable to either eat or drink throughout the day for fear that this night might be her last in the castle, Beauty spent her time wandering the grounds. Her parents were dispersed about the palace, each investigating their own desires and interests. For once, Beauty was glad because she had no energy to maintain the appearance that all was well. For it was not. Once again dusk descended rapidly and alone in her suite, Beauty awaited the little man. Prompt as ever, he appeared just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. And Josh had not yet returned. “Tonight it is, young Beauty,” he said, nearly bursting with pride. “Have you at last discovered my name?” 165

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“Please, sir,” Beauty said, her voice shaking with dread. “I can give you gold, silver, jewels, you name it, and my prince will pay.” She broke down into tears. Fantastic. Just as she was about to embark on a happily-ever-after life, the little man arrived to change all that. How much more could she take? “I have trinkets and stuff of little importance,” the little man said icily. “My name, Beauty!” Beauty nodded, unable to speak. Her hands trembled as she took up the first scroll and began to read. “Your name is Tony, Todd, Tyrance, Terry, Tim, Tredwell…” And on it went, with each name read, the little man cackling in laughter, disturbingly sinister and making the hairs on Beauty’s neck stand up. As she read through scroll after scroll, her voice grew more and more shaken until she burst into tears. “You have not guessed my name,” the little man said gleefully. “Thus your virginity is mine!” At that moment, the doors to the suite burst open and in raced Josh, his sword raised. He panted, “Stop! We have but one more scroll.” The little man laughed some more. “Fine, read your names.” “We must confer,” Josh said and waved Beauty over to him. She came with the fear and sadness of one who has lost something important. He saw the loss in her eyes and he hugged her to him. Then in a low whisper, he said, “I apologize for being late, love. But I was searching the northern village outside Olden Hills last night. Weary, I stopped at an inn for a drink 166

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and a meal. Whilst there, I used the bathroom and I overheard this fellow in a neighboring stall singing, My name is Rumplestiltskin, and no one would be prouder, and if you don't believe me, I'll yell a little louder. The Princess Beauty’s innocence will be mine And I’ll sell a treasure so fine To the highest bidder for favors unspoken And she’ll be used as nothing but a well-traded token. “So, surely this is his name.” Beauty turned to the little man, who’d grown very white against his vivid green suit. She strolled back to him and placed both hands on her hips. “Try out your names, Beauty, for I do not have all night,” the little man snapped. “Your name,” she said proudly, heart hammering, “is Rumpelstiltskin!” “You!” he screeched, pointing at Josh with a crooked, wrinkled finger. His face twisted into a savage visage, growing crimson in his fury. “You cheated!” “I played fair and square,” Beauty retorted. Rumpelstiltskin stamped his foot so violently, he cracked the floor, thus becoming snagged. Enraged he couldn’t get free, he eventually exploded in a flash of green stars. In his spot, Beauty’s ring and necklace appeared.

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Epilogue Another beautiful day unfolded outside the living quarters of Josh and his new bride, Beauty. The windows had been thrown open to allow in the bright, brilliant rays of sunlight, and the songs of birds chirping merrily could be heard by the lovers. Tucked beneath the loving and strong arms of Josh, Beauty woke up. Almost immediately, as if her blinking was loud enough to wake the dead, Josh awoke too, nuzzling the nape of her neck. “Good morning,” he muttered, rubbing his face into her hair. “Did you sleep well?” “Yes,” she said, feeling his warmth spread over her like an extra blanket. “Excellent,” he said, and she heard him yawn behind her. “Fantastic.” “Is it true?” Beauty asked carefully. “Is what true?” Josh asked distractedly as he tried to unearth himself from the layers of bed coverings. “That we are married. Or is this some kind of dream?” He laughed. “No, this is no dream.” 168

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At this, Beauty smiled and realized that she could, at last, relax—truly let go of the anxiety that gripped at her from deep within. Each day that passed, up until they were married yesterday, Beauty had wondered if something else would arise to challenge their love. She wouldn’t, no couldn’t, allow herself to rest, to fully believe that being a princess, marrying such a handsome, loving, giving prince could happen to her. Until just now. “Although we are officially married,” Josh said, climbing back into bed, stripping the layers of beddings that covered Beauty away, “we have yet to consummate our union.” At his statement, Beauty blushed. She could almost feel the heat from him roll across her body, awakening her own desire to feel him move inside her. Of course, they hadn’t done it yet. So exhausted from the constant celebrating, and too many glasses of elven wine, they did nothing but remove their wedding clothes in heaps on the floor. They fell immediately asleep, thinking of nothing but rest. Already he yanked his sleeping trousers to his ankles, rolling onto his back to snatch them over his feet. Without so much as a glance, he flung them to the floor. His passion was so great, his cock bounced about as he straddled her. Beauty’s eyes were drawn to him like flowers to sunlight. She wanted to witness everything and touch him all over. Oh, but to have many hands instead of just two! Still wearing her nightgown, Beauty longed to be free of it. As she reached down to start removing it, Josh stayed her hand. “Not yet.” 169

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He leaned in, covering her body with his, and kissed her. The rawness surprised her. Just how much of his own want had Josh restrained during their courtship? A considerable amount if the fierceness of his kiss was any indication. She could feel his rigid cock—hard and considerable— press into her. As if a current of lust shot from it, Beauty’s own love button awoke and began to beat out its own needs. Sensing that his passion was on the verge of exploding, Beauty reached out to him. But Josh sat back on his heels. His cock pointed at her as if holding her responsible for its condition. “I want you more than I can find words for,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I do not want to hurt you.” Beauty sat up and started to remove her gown, untying the shoulder straps and allowing it to fall to her waist. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her breasts and see a burning light up his eyes. “We are one,” she said, her own voice thick with emotions and longing. “Let us join together as one.” She lunged for him then and wrapped him tightly in her embrace. Laughing, he gazed down at her with such tenderness, Beauty thought she’d cry. But the look was hastily extinguished by the rampant burst of lust in his eyes. In a restrained manner, Josh took her in his arms, laid her gently on the bed, undressed her further and loved her with the care, attention, and gentleness of one who truly cherishes the person alongside him. 170

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Beauty felt him enter her. Groaning in delight, she found herself begging for more as she suddenly could not get enough of him. “More! Oh, Josh, ohhhh!” she shouted, losing herself, her fears, her thoughts to the incredible feelings of the moment. He obliged. They became a blur, bubbling toward a mutual joining of not only their physical bodies, but their spirits as well. When at last their shouts and screams fell to silence, they lay together in a tangle of bed coverings. As Beauty listened to her body’s rush slow, she thought her desire for Josh—and his for her—to be truly golden.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR RaeLynn Blue loves nothing more than long, hot baths, snuggling in front of crackling fires, sleeping in late on Sundays, and browsing the latest in clothing. She loves writing romance even more. Her books aren’t the run of the mill romance with sex under the covers and with the lights out— they’re sensual and erotic romance. And that means lust, passion, and a whole lot of sex. Join her in the latest jaunt off to exotic locales with love that isn’t plain vanilla by visiting her website at http://raelynnblue.blogspot.com.

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