Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Walking at Sundown By L. Shannon
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Walking at Sundown By L. Shannon
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Walking at Sundown Copyright© 2008 L. Shannon ISBN: 978‐1‐60088‐228‐9 Cover Artist: Croco Designs Editor: Tracy Seybold All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Cobblestone Press, LLC www.cobblestone‐press.com
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Dedication To my (sometimes dominant) husband. Sorry, honey, I’m a sap. I had to use the line. You know I did. LOL A special thank you to my critique partners, Deb and Amy. Without you, my fabulous editors would hate me.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Chapter One Come, my darling. “Let’s find the slimy bastard.” Mayce tugged his mate, Spyce, into his arms and trans‐located them both to the dark alley behind the Sundown Club. Despite being a private sex club specifically for nonhumans, the building was located in an unremarkable section of town. “I can’t wait to wrap my hands around his throat.” Spyce’s expression tightened. “Not to kill him, of course. Just so he coughs up the information to save Flayvor and, if I’m lucky, suffers a lot for his part in the kidnapping.” His blood‐thirsty wife’s reaction was not much of a surprise. They might be Synn demons, but even in violence her emotion and passion ran hot. She would protect the unit with her life if needed. So would he. But they were all weary of following clues from one mortal to another. The search was beginning to look like a dead end, and the end in question would be the death of one or both of the unit’s two youngest members. The tint of post‐storm dawn brightened the open end of the alley to a dim gray. The walls of the Sundown Club remained dark. A quick glance revealed that no doors or even windows opened to the alley. Nothing but ugly black paint covered what appeared to be well‐ maintained brick. They’d have to enter by the front. Wordlessly they stalked around the building. “Oh, shit.” Mayce couldn’t believe his eyes. On the club’s front door hung a man— no, a vampire, chained and helpless to the coming dawn.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Spyce beat him to the vampire’s side and immediately began freeing him. Even with both working, the vamp was nearly unconscious by the time they released him. Small curls of smoke twisted from his long black hair. Within a few minutes, the vamp’s pale skin would begin to burn. Sunlight, the gift of the Creator, would incinerate him, leaving nothing but ash behind, just as it did to all soulless, sentient beings, just is it would have done to him and Spyce before they’d reclaimed their souls. “Get the door. I’ll protect him from the sun.” Spyce’s eyes went red with the power surge needed to shift forms and still remain unseen to the average human. He didn’t need to watch to know she would spread her wings, wrapping them around the unknown vamp. Instead Mayce focused on the door, pushing his magic into the lock and forcing it to obey his command to open. Seconds ticked by before the metal gave way to his will. The door unlocked and Mayce shoved it wide to make room for Spyce and the would‐be ash pile. Once inside he slammed the door, glad to see the club’s windows high up on the walls were all covered, blocking out the deadly rays. “How is he?” “He’ll live…sort of,” she answered. She’d settled the vampire into the first booth past the entrance foyer, if that’s what the open area of the club could be called. After the entrance space, the main floor opened into a dining and dancing area. Booths lined one wall and an island bar divided those tables from a spacious dance floor and small stage. Even a glance told him the interior dimensions didn’t match up to the building size or shape. What was the extra space used for? Then he understood. There were five doors along the left side of the dance floor. Those would be for more private dancing… and feeding. The place was large, at least three stories high. Finding their man might take some time, time they didn’t have to waste, searching the seemingly empty building. “Where do you think we’ll find this Dante?” Spyce looked up from beside the slumped vampire. She was holding a black wallet. “We already found him.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Chapter Two Dante couldn’t believe what a fuck up he was. He couldn’t even manage to kill himself properly. For God’s sake, he’d been saved by the very monsters who’d gotten him to this point in the first place. Once he was protected from the deadly light, his strength slowly returned. If only they’d left him there. He deserved death. He’d done so much wrong, and even when he tried to do right, everything he touched became soiled and damaged. His precious baby sister was the victim of his latest crime. I’m such a bastard. The female shook his shoulder roughly, jarring him upright. “Seems you have a knack for pissing people off.” He didn’t bother to answer, just leaned his head against the padded wall at his back. If they were here to kill him, they’d have left him outside to get a tan. If they were here to force him to help Rynix again, they were in for a surprise. He’d rather die than help the asshole who’d hurt Clarice. “Looks like he plans on being mute. Teaching him to speak will be fun.” Her voice was as cold as her eyes. Both were in contrast to her black and red firecracker appearance. Her shocking red hair spiked outward over her leather halter. The matching miniskirt was painted over fishnet stockings and knee‐high spike‐heeled boots. Tattoos spiraled down her arms, similar to the stark tribal tattoos but more intricate and flowing. Something awoke deep within Dante, some remembered hint of passion. She was striking in her painted beauty. His body reminded him
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon of the pleasure found in life that would be lost to a soulless monster fried to dust. The demon’s voice blurred briefly while Dante fought back his body’s impulses. It was far too late to indulge in any such things. All that was left for him was to remove himself from this life and protect those around him from his terrible mistakes. The slap across his face stung like a bitch and brought him back into focus. “I asked you a question. Mayce and I expect an answer.” “What?” He shook his head. “I won’t help anymore, and there is nothing you can do to force me.” The male demon, who must be Mayce, ripped the table out from in front of his bench and advanced menacingly. “I beg to differ. You will help or you will die, slowly and painfully.” He met the dark gaze evenly. “Then kill me. As slowly as you like. I was raised on pain and torture from the time I was stolen at the age of five. There is little you can imagine that hasn’t already been done to me and nothing that I fear. All I want now is to be taken back into the arms of the sunlight where I was attempting to get my first tan.” “Asshole is suicidal,” the female said into the stunned silence. “And masochistic,” Dante added. No point in fudging the truth. “Go back to Rynix and tell him I said fuck off.” The female demon spun to meet the male’s gaze. “Shit.” “Yeah, shit.” Mayce backed off a step. “Look, we don’t work for Rynix and will be happy as hell once the bastard is torn limb from limb for his crimes.” The image worked for Dante too. “Then what do you want?” “Easy, Spyce. We’ll get it sorted out.” Mayce brushed a hand over the pacing female then turned back to face Dante. “We’re trying to find the demon he took. He is important to us. We want to know everything you can tell us about the attack and where our comrade, Flayvor, was taken.” Their demands sounded honorable. Part of Dante wanted to dish out everything he knew to help right the wrongs he’d been part of.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Another, darker part wondered just what these two would be willing to do for the information. According to Rynix most demons were more than happy to hunt down and kill vampires. Perhaps they could be the answer to his unsuccessful suicide issues. But he needed to know a little more before he began negotiations. He sat up a little straighter. “How did you find me?” The male shrugged as if the source didn’t matter at all, as if they would have found him eventually, no matter where the information came from. Then he said two words that rained ice into Dante’s heart. “Your sister.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Chapter Three Dante lunged at the demon, a haze of red flashing over his vision. “What have you done to my sister?” His fist slammed into the male’s jaw with a crack. “Damn you! Stay the fuck away from her!” He didn’t see the punch coming or feel the hit land, but the power of it threw him back into the bench and left him aching fiercely. His fangs reacted, throbbing with need. He gasped through the pain and his body’s whacked reactions. “You will not touch her. She can’t defend herself.” She is helpless because of me. She couldn’t say no or make choices. His fangs retreated and he almost sobbed with the agony in his chest. She was easy prey for humans, let alone demons such as these. “She won’t be harmed.” The female eyed him strangely. “She has been healed and even as we speak is safe from Rynix. Our comrades will let nothing harm her, not even their own hungers. She is safe.” “Truly?” Could he trust them? “Yes. Do you wish to speak with her?” The male flipped out a cell phone. “It is possible and might make this easier on us all if you just talk to her yourself.” “Please.” His voice cracked. If they were telling the truth and she was safe it changed everything. Or perhaps it didn’t, but even the possibility that she might be helped eased the guilt that ate away inside him. He held a hand out for the phone, and the moment it was dialed and handed over, he clutched it to his ear. The connection rang twice. “What?” a male asked in a deep growl.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon “Put Clarice on.” He stopped breathing and waited. A snarl of rage was his answer. “This is Mayce’s number, and you sure as fuck are not Mayce. If I don’t hear Mayce’s voice within five seconds, I will be standing in front of you and putting that phone someplace real uncomfortable.” Mayce raised his voice slightly and said, “Chill, Rayce. It’s cool.” The phone fell silent for a moment and then across the line Dante heard, “Hey, honey. Call for you.” The male, Rayce, was answered by a throaty laugh. “Hi. Who is this?” Clarice’s warm voice jumped across the lines. It held something he’d thought was lost forever. It held her heart and soul. She was truly healed. He sagged with relief. “Clarice… I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t certain how they’d managed it, but there was a certain balance that she’d been healed by demons after demons had done the damage. “Dante, what’s going on? Are you okay?” She always worried about him. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought he was the younger of the two, rather than almost twenty years her senior. “I’m fine,” he lied. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Are they treating you well? Are you safe?” “Oh Dante, I’m…wonderful.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I think I’m in love. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s just so fantastic.” Something low in his stomach jumped, thrilled at the joy in his sister’s voice. “And safe? Are you safe?” “Yes, I’m safe. Rayce and Chayse would never let anything happen to me. And yes, brother mine, they are tough enough to back up that promise.” She paused and he could almost hear her considering how much to tell him. “I don’t want you to be upset, but they are blood demons and yes, they’ve promised to never turn me into a vampire against my will.” Of course she would think of that because he’d never been given a choice. He tried to absorb all she said and was easily overwhelmed. All of it came down to one fact…she was safe. “I can’t wait for you to meet them. When can you come for a visit?”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon “Soon,” he lied again. Besides the fact that he’d be dead before long, the new love of her life wasn’t likely to welcome him with open arms. Open fangs would be much more likely. The blood demons tended to hate vampires in general and had a tendency to kill any they came across. Rather ironic since it was their blood that began every vampire line. “Hey, Dante, I have to go. Please come by soon. I really want to see you.” “I love you, sis.” “I love you too. Bye.” The line clicked dead. Dante closed his eyes and clung to the simple joy of his sister. She was safe and healed. His eyes burned, but the ache in his chest eased. The female stepped in front of him and braced both hands on her leather‐clad hips. “You seem to still have a heart, even if you haven’t a soul. Perhaps you’ll willingly help us find our friend.” He forced his breath in and out, searching for the brakes on his racing emotions. What he needed was to make sure Clarice stayed just as safe as she thought she was. It was the only thing that mattered. “In exchange for my sister’s continued safety I would cut the heart from my chest.” The male’s lips twitched. “Then some information will be very little to ask. All we want to know is where the demons took Flayvor.” It was very little. He’d tell them now if he could, if it would do any good. The only information he had would be useless until the club opened at dusk. That was when Maya would arrive. Only she knew where the lost demon could be found, and he had no idea where she spent her days. Then something that might not be the most honorable option slunk into his mind. What if he offered himself one last day of pleasure? Even if they refused to kill him, he could take another morning stroll. Why shouldn’t he take advantage of the time he had with these two sex demons? Because their comrades helped Clarice? Because the demons had saved him even before they realized they needed him?
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Shit. “So what will it be? Will you help us or will we force you to help us?” The male demon continued to lean against the end of the booth, but tension visibly coiled in him, like a snake preparing to strike. “I will tell you everything I know in exchange for three things.” Dante ran his fingers through his tangled hair. Was he really going to do this? Shit, shit, shit. Spyce snorted. “Guess that makes us genies.” “Speak for yourself, love. I’m no fucking genie.” Mayce’s black eyes never left Dante. “Just say what you want, asshole.” Dante sucked in his breath. Yes, he was an asshole but at least he wouldn’t be for much longer. “First, I want Clarice safe and free to choose her own life.” “Done,” the male said without hesitation. Dante’s breath came out in a ragged whoosh. “Second, I want to experience the pleasures offered by Synn demons, by both of you, in every way.” Spyce jerked as if struck. “Do you understand what we use sex for? We fucking kill with it. If you want the full experience, you will die. Sometimes even a vampire can’t escape the sexual high that ultimately leads to death.” “The suicidal fuck knows. What is the third demand?” Dante smiled grimly, glad that at least the male understood. “If I survive the sex, I want you to kill me.” The female’s jaw hung open but the male straightened, holding out a hand to seal the deal. “Agreed. We will meet all your demands in exchange for useful information leading to Flayvor’s rescue.” Their hands came together. The demon’s grasp tightened down painfully. “With one bit of understanding. If Flayvor does not survive you will die slowly, painfully, in ways that I guarantee won’t get you off. You see, we already know you were involved with the bastards who took him. I don’t particularly care if it was willing or not.” Dante let the slight pain wash through him. He nodded, and the agreement was done.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon “What information do you have?” This would be the tricky part. “I will tell you when the club opens at sundown.” “Delay could cost our friend his life,” Mayce snarled. “Tell us now.” The command jumped through Dante’s body. This male would make a damn good Dom, if only they had the chance to play. Even his master’s voice so long ago hadn’t offered such a physical reaction. He breathed in the strength and dominance and felt it ease his stretched muscles. Still, he knew this would end badly if they thought he was putting their friend in danger for the sake of selfish pleasure. “I can tell you what was said and done, but it honestly will do you no good until sundown. That is when the woman I can put you in touch with will arrive here. All I ask is that you use the time we have to fulfill one of my requests.” “This whole situ sucks,” the female said. “Easy, love. It does suck, but he won’t be getting off so easily.” He pulled the female, Spyce, into his arms. “Well, vampire, this is how it will go down. We will give you your game of pleasure and quite likely want to kill you long before dusk, but you will answer any and every question given and obey every single command spoken. That is the way we play, and you will abide those rules.” A shiver of expectation danced down Dante’s spine. The thought of these two dominating him lifted his cock into a hard, aching erection. He truly had been raised by a master Dom and missed the sexual side of those days even if he didn’t miss the sadistic side. His sister would never have understood that darker need. But these two would, and better yet, they’d offered him just what he craved. The tension eased from Dante’s body as he sank to his knees before the two demons. “Let the games begin.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Chapter Four “Stand up. Before we get to any of those games, you will lead us somewhere better equipped.” Mayce watched the vampire draw slowly back to his feet. The swing of his long black hair shadowed an attractive, rather young‐looking face. “How old are you?” Dante kept his face averted and answered immediately, “I am forty‐six years old. I was turned at eighteen.” That would explain the youthful appearance, but there was more to this vampire than his pretty face. What kinds of nightmares had chiseled the dead look into his blue eyes? “Why did you help Rynix with the kidnapping?” The vampire sighed. “They threatened to feed on and kill my sister if I didn’t help them. She’s all I have in the world.” He couldn’t help but privately admit Dante might be a victim in this mess just as much as Flayvor. “You have this club also. Explain about the Sundown Club. Pretend it’s a tour.” Mayce fell into step behind Dante. The vampire’s leather pants molded over narrow hips and a rounded ass. It is a fine ass, Spyce said telepathically. Her hand slid up Mayce’s back, scratching ever so lightly through the silk of his shirt. Perhaps even as nice as yours. I’m glad you approve of both. I do, completely. So long as he does as well. He seems to approve of you at least. Much as I do enjoy watching, I would rather play with you both. Spyce’s thoughts purred and hummed with arousal.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon That was the joy of being a Synn demon; gender had little to do with sex. Pleasure could be found among any of the living or, in this case, even among the undead. Dante led them across the dance floor toward the stage. “You can see the dining area and dance area clearly. Those are both kept pretty straight with very little on‐floor sex due to city, state and federal regulations.” He paused at one door to the left of the dance floor, swinging it open to reveal a rather ordinary room. “In these privacy rooms, patrons can continue their pleasure to whatever degree they wish, but only with consensual sex of course.” Dante paused as if waiting for a comment and when none came, he continued. “Each room includes a twin‐sized bed and a small bathroom including a shower stall, though most of those who use these areas are more of the slam‐bam types.” He closed the door. “More exotic tastes or those planning longer sessions use the rooms upstairs.” “How do you get upstairs?” Spyce asked. The vampire looked back with a flash of panic. Then the fear settled, and he pointed back toward the entrance. “There are two access points; an elevator just inside the main entrance, and stairs, here beside the stage.” The door opened to a short hallway. At one end a set of stairs led upward and at the other end was a door with a security keypad. For a moment it was as if Dante hadn’t known the answer to Spyce’s question, but how could he not know something so simple about his own club? A tremor ran visibly through the vampire. In a heart beat it was gone, and his back straightened. “We will not be going upstairs.” Mayce paused at the statement. He saw it clearly for what it was, but why would he challenge them for dominance? The attempt was so blatant, it had to be no more than a ploy, a test. Still it couldn’t be overlooked, not even once. He caught Dante by his hair, gripping firmly and dragging the vampire’s leaner body back against his own. “You will not decide where we will be playing. Consider this tour, at best, a suggestion.” “Fine.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Mayce smiled with a flash of small, sharp fangs. “Fine is not the correct response.” His fingers tightened enough to bend the vampire back slightly. Dante’s breath hissed in, but his eyelids drooped in the acceptance of a well‐trained submissive. “Yes, Master. Your decision is the only decision.” Spyce poked Mayce in the back. Mine, too, I would hope. Mentally, his mate was laughing with joy. She understood the game and knew this could work out perfectly for all three of them. Mayce gave a final light tug before releasing Dante. “Open the door. We will judge if the room is suitable.” After a quick flash of fingers, the lock clicked and Dante pushed the door open, revealing stairs that led down into shadows. “I keep an apartment downstairs.” “How large?” “The entire basement. Do you wish to see my home?” Mayce nodded and followed Dante down the steps. He couldn’t help being intrigued by the vampire. Spyce trailed behind them silently. The bottom step stretched outward to create a platform perfect to view the spacious room. And it certainly was spacious. Dante’s home was almost as large as the warehouse that their nine demon unit currently called home. Every angle of the place was set up for sex. A variety of strikingly bright spotlights broke the living area up into rooms despite the missing walls. A full quarter of the space was equipped with a huge sunken tub that was more pool than bathing area. Beyond that was an elaborate, monster‐sized bed. From the four posts dangled red leather cuffs with adjustable tie straps. Across from the bed were darker items favored for sexual sadism—bondage rack and a blood‐stained whipping post. “You are one kinky bitch, vampire.” Spyce’s laugh of joy echoed Mayce’s elation. The set up seemed to prove that Dante would be up to whatever games they wanted, nothing barred. Dante’s lips quirked, but his demeanor remained passive, perfectly submissive.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Mayce looked down at the vampire from the last step. “We will begin at the post. Do you object?” “No, master.” “What is your safe word?” Spyce asked. Dante met her gaze, and then glanced away. “I need no safe word.” “You will this time.” She stepped down beside Dante and had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. “You will test your safe word once within the first thirty minutes. At any point that you wish to stop or renegotiate the terms, your safe word will bring all activity to a halt. Any other screams of pleasure or pain will be considered, rejected or punished as Mayce and I see fit. The only control you have is the use of this one word. Now, what is your safe word?” “Sebastian,” he whispered. Spyce caught his jaw in her hand. “You will test your safe word. Is that understood?” “Yes.” Her hand struck out, slapping him hard. “You will answer properly.” “Yes, mistress.” “Good. Go to the post.” Mayce waited until the vampire began across the room, before grabbing Spyce and dragging her into a hard kiss. They came together with a crash and sparred for dominance that neither would truly gain. The battle was one Mayce lived for. Passion flared and he was rock hard and aching for her in seconds. Never one to deny himself pleasure, he shoved her back until she hit the low wall around the pool area. “Lose the clothes.” “Make me.” He growled and let his magic burst outward, dissolving both his and her clothing. He hooked his arm under one thigh, opening her, but instead of a fast fuck like he’d originally imagined, he exposed his mind to her and they became one in thought and action. She reached between them, stroking his throbbing erection, rubbing the head over her wet entrance. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed in, reveling in her passionate
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon response when she arched backward, trusting him to support her upper body. Then she was all liquid movement, writhing against him, working herself over his thick length. Her inner muscles tightened, as she rocked her hips upward and locked her thighs around him. Her orgasm hit fast and left him gasping to join her. He cradled her tight against his chest and rolled his hips, drawing out and slamming back into her body. The trembling remains of her climax rushed him toward his own peak. Growling, he burrowed his face into her hair and nipped at her ear and the soft place beneath it. Her face turned upward and he captured her lips. She tasted of deadly temptation, of the darkest spices known to any realm. No, not of spice, even if she was named such. She tasted of soul— his soul. She was everything to him. Without her he would die a slow fading death. She was life and passion. Spyce was his world. And you are a poet. Now quit waxing eloquent and fuck me already. I love you, Spyce. He so much more than loved her. He breathed her. But instead of pointing that out, he complied and fucked her, deepening his strokes so that he was withdrawing almost to the tip before driving back into her. Pleasure built, setting his blood on fire. The deep ache grew too, throbbing, demanding, until the moment came and his panting breath choked him. “Yes!” Spyce screamed and they came together. They took a few moments to regain a firmer footing on the earth as well as to reform clothing. Then they turned their focus on the vampire who had just watched them fuck without saying a word. Spyce caught Mayce’s hand as they crossed the room. He was awfully quiet and look at his face. It is as if he has never seen sex before, but running a sex club and having toys such as he does, he must have a great deal of experience. Perhaps he did not expect to see love between us. That might have been a surprise. Mayce saw exactly what Spyce had mentioned. Dante’s face was carefully blank, but his eyes held a longing that spoke more than any lips could. This vampire had needs that had never been met or at least had gone neglected far too long.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Pain slivered through Mayce’s memories. He’d once been that alone. Even tascing mortals with sex and finding orgasm time after time would never fill the void left raw and aching for love and acceptance. In that moment, he wanted to offer some of that gift to the vampire. Perhaps we can fulfill some of his needs. Don’t forget, love, we are about to question him. Such interrogation could dance at the edge of pain. Ah, but our Dante likes that. Mayce released his mate’s hand and faced Dante. “Did you enjoy watching?” “Yes.” Mayce caught Dante’s jaw in a hard grip. “Yes, what?” “Yes, master.” The emotion flared and then faded, leaving the vampire’s blue eyes cold and dead. “Very good.” Mayce released him and stepped back to examine the sexual tools hanging on the wall beside the post. First he would push Dante past the living death where he now existed and then they would bring him back to life, rebirthed through pain and pleasure. “Tell me what you saw, while Spyce binds you in place.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon
Chapter Five Dante shivered at the words. How could he explain what he’d seen and how it had affected him? Now he was expected to turn the indescribable depth of emotion into mere words. It wasn’t possible. Spyce caught his hand, sliding her fingers through his in a caress, in unexpected support. She turned him to face the pole, lifting his hand to the cuff and binding him in place. “Is that too tight?” Mutely, he shook his head. “You have to answer Mayce.” Her voice was low as if to keep the words from her mate, but he knew the male’s sharp demon hearing would catch every word. Still, the thought was appreciated. “I saw two people have sex.” He closed his eyes over the lie. He’d seen so much more than that. Spyce lifted his other arm, strapping his wrist in place, level with the first, slightly above his head. “You will be punished for lying.” She was still between him and the post. Her back must be pressed hard against the wood. Her breasts barely brushed his chest. She reached up to his shoulders, letting her fingers dance over the edge of his shirt collar. “Use the flogger to begin.” The words were soft, but her sharp jerk and sound of tearing fabric was harsh. His shirt shredded with parts catching on his arms and the waistband of his pants. The cool air hit his bare back for a second before the soft leather of the flogger did. The tingling sting danced over his nerves. The threads of this whip
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon were by far the mildest of the whips and crops. They were excellent for first timers, but no more than a feather to him. Dante met the female’s gaze through the next three strikes. How could he explain his needs to them? Even if he did, would they care? “Tell Mayce what you saw.” She cupped his cheek, brushing a thumb over his lips. “Tell him and you will be rewarded.” He sighed at the gentle caress. “I saw a passion and affection so fierce that the skies could open up, and even a hurricane could not put out that fire.” The next lash threw him forward against the female. The bite had gone deep, as only his barbed flogger could do. The rush of pain pushed out all thoughts, forcing aside the dead self‐hate and bringing him back to life. The next lash singed his missing soul. His body awakened. His cock hardened, pushing insistently against the female’s belly. His fangs swelled demandingly. Life flooded through him. He didn’t mean to, but suddenly he was kissing Spyce, plunging his tongue between her lips and tangling, dancing, warring with hers. The whip fell again and again. He jerked, shuddering in agony, in pleasure. Spyce’s fingers burrowed in his hair, anchoring them together. Her body rubbed against his. She climbed up his body, locking her legs about his waist while continuing to savage his mouth. Heat sizzled between them, sharpened with every snap of the whip. She tore away in time with the bite of the whip. He couldn’t help but scream at the loss, a long bellow of need, a sound he’d never released before. His pants yielded to Spyce’s nimble fingers, falling to his knees in a pool of soft leather, freeing his swollen cock to her grip. “Oh, Dante, you are so damn lovely and perfect.” Spyce stroked his length, slowly, tenderly, caressing every inch. Then her mouth lowered. The heat of her breath left him shaking for the second before she began licking him. Her tongue was just as thorough and dedicated as her fingers had been. He couldn’t help but watch as she sucked the head of his cock
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon between her lips and devoured him, taking him deep. The whip bit deep across his ass, jerking his hips forward. He plunged fully into her, forcing her to deep throat him. She withdrew and advanced, and with the advance came another strike from the whip. This time his whole body jumped, slamming her back against the post with a thud. He threw himself back at once. She was his mistress. Would she punish him for moving without permission? Fear laced through him. His body wilted despite her attention. Spyce released his cock and moved back up his bare body until she was face to face with him, so close she would surely see his fear, his failure. “Dante.” His eyes closed. The whip had stilled. “Yes, mistress?” “You have done nothing wrong. I enjoy seeing and feeling your reactions. Your response has been everything I could hope for.” Her lips brushed his with gentle understanding. She knew his fears and accepted his mistakes. Emotion welled up inside him. He needed to be dominated but so often that was mistaken for cruelty or coldness. This one, she understood. His eyes burned with tears. How long had it been since he’d found this perfect balance? He’d never found it. This was what he’d always searched for. Even his first master hadn’t cared for him and had never forgiven mistakes. Spyce caught his jaw before he could sag against her. She forced him to meet her gaze for a long moment, allowing him several heartbeats to gather his fraying emotions into some semblance of order. Her lips brushed his lightly. “We are not done with you. Are you willing to continue?” Air rushed into his lungs. Mayce stepped into view beside his mate. His face was a mask of concern. “You can use your safe word. It can all stop with one word.” Tears slipped down his face. How could they understand so perfectly? But they did, and he did not want to stop. “Please… I don’t want to stop.” The words felt torn from him, and in the rending he felt
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon freed. Mayce stepped back behind him but did not continue with the whipping. The demon’s hands moved over the ribbons of his back. Dante felt the examination of each wound and the care behind the touch. The barbed whip always exacted its pound of flesh, but his vampire nature made up for the damage and could heal him completely within hours. Spyce kissed away his tears until Dante had full control once more. Her hands feathered over his face and combed through his tangled hair. “What kind of mistress are you?” He asked with wonder. “Do not doubt my control. Mayce and I own you, but we have no need to be cruel. All we do will be what you consent to and what we know you need.” Confusion over her kindness brought out a boldness he had no control of. “But you have each other. Why would you want me?” “We need more. Both Mayce and I find pleasure in dominating. Having you between us is something we all desire.” Her fingers continued to work his hair, each tug sending tingles through his scalp. “You will use your safe word soon. If you do not test the word you will never trust its power. Do you understand my reason for this demand?” “I understand, my mistress.” Although he’d never experienced such compassion, the logic behind her demand made sense. She pressed her lips to his, murmuring, “Good.” Between one slam of the heart and the next, his world twisted inside out. The two demons spun his body, spun with his body until he was arched tight facing away from the post. Mayce’s large body took up every inch between his back and the wood. Spyce now stood before him holding a crop and wearing nothing but a sultry smile. Dante shuddered with the first strike across his thigh. His cock jumped in excitement. Spyce was so beautiful. Her red hair framed her face and a blush of arousal colored her body. She twirled the crop. “We need music. Where is your player?” She glanced around. “Never mind, I see it.” She grabbed the remote and cranked up the CD player. How perfect, the first song, Pain by Three Days Grace, came on and said everything that this moment offered.
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Only he secretly dreamed of feeling love as well as pain. But in the absence of love, pain would fill up his emptiness. “That’s better.” “I agree.” Mayce shifted behind him, forcing him to arch further against the bonds holding his wrists. The demon’s hand landed on his shoulder. His words blew over Dante’s right ear. “I’m going to clean your wounds. You will stop me if it becomes too painful. Answer if you understand.” “Yes, master.” “Very good.” Cool, sharp fluid hit his back. The sponge moved slowly across his neck and shoulders then followed each wound. The antiseptic burned him deep in each mark, but the pain blurred into one ache. So much so that he barely registered when Spyce took up her crop once more. Mayce continued his ministrations, gradually moving lower on his back with the antiseptic. His hands soothed where the cleanser burned down his hips, buttocks and thighs. Hot breath hit his ass while Mayce tended the lower wounds. The care that Mayce took with his wounds was shocking and unexpected. At every turn these demons surprised him. When they should have been torturing him for his part in their friend’s abduction they instead offered him pleasure and even this form of affection. Surely Mayce knew the injuries would heal? They would be little more than pale lines in an hour or less. Why then did he take time to clean and add ointment as he was doing now? Those firm strong hands rubbed the salve into his skin with soothing circles. Long after the wounds were tended, even as he felt them knitting closed, Mayce continued to stroke his hands over Dante’s back and shoulders. It was much too strange, this gentle caressing. Then Spyce sank to her knees before him. Her fingers tickled his still stinging thighs as she claimed his cock in one hand and cupped his balls in the other. She was gentle and demanding. Her every touch drove
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon his arousal notches higher until his hips pistoned, driving his cock through her fisted hands. Mayce moved with the rhythm. One hand dug into Dante’s hip. The other clenched his hair in a fist. And the demon’s thick cock slipped up and down the crease of Dante’s ass. He licked at one healing wound at the back of his neck. “Mmm, you taste so fucking good.” Twin smooth edges dragged over his skin. Fangs…
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Chapter Six Dante shivered. He knew the feel of fangs. He knew what was coming. Spyce sucked him into her mouth. Her fingers dug into his thighs. She controlled his thrusts forcing him to follow the rhythm that suited her, building the pleasure until the desperate ache shook his body. She drew back once, clawing down his thighs, demanding his attention. “You will come for me, Dante.” With that dark promise she returned those perfect lips to his cock, angling to take him deeper and deeper. When he trembled at the brink of orgasm, Mayce’s fangs sank deep into his flesh, spinning out his need. His blood sang with eager anticipation. His heart cried with a black sort of joy, welcoming, even reaching out to grab the waiting death. He hadn’t fed properly in weeks. He was weak and walking the edge, fighting what his body needed. This final blood loss offered the perfect end. He could find completion and end his suffering in the same heartbeat. Both demons worked him. He could drown in the pleasure they so willingly shared with him. He was going to drown in it. How much more could he take? Not enough. Why hadn’t he fed properly? Why hadn’t he warned them of this weakness? He was about to die. But he couldn’t die… not yet. He hadn’t told them the information to find their friend. They had to stop. He had to tell them. Then he could die. He opened his mouth and nothing but a moan immerged. His body
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon trembled. It was too late… He fell off a familiar edge. Sebastian! The orgasm slammed him, forcing him through the pain and pleasure and back in time to a memory and a nightmare…of the first time he’d died. Dante knelt before his master. Pain wracked his eighteen year old body, leaving him surprisingly close to orgasm. Master held him there at the pinnacle between pleasure and pain, just as he had so often in the past year. Master’s emotions poured over him like acid, eating their way deep into his soul. A hair more in either direction and he’d fall. He felt it although the master had never taken him this far before. Something about this was different. The slam of his heart kept cadence as the seconds passed. His master, so familiar, hesitated with terribly, alien uncertainty. “I believe you will die this night.” His heart lost rhythm, stuttering with a tremor of fear. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, but his master ruled every second of his life. His master was the sun to his planet. If Master said he was to die then Dante knew his life was over, accepted that nothing could change this destiny. How long had he obeyed without thought? His life belonged to his master. Or at least it had for as long as he remembered. Since his fifth birthday… he’d been with the master for thirteen years. Cold fingers slid over the bleeding wounds of his back. He didn’t have to see the master to know those blood‐covered fingers would be licked clean. Seconds later the master began stroking his body, touching each and every wound. Their bodies brushed, the master’s tongue laved at his back, savoring every drop of blood. Never before had the punishment and feeding felt this…seductive. Pleasure rippled through Dante. His master always shared his satisfaction while feeding but never before had it been accompanied by sexual pleasure. Dante trembled under the onslaught. “Come for me, little mortal.” The master’s hands found Dante’s aching cock. He shattered, spilling his seed over the polished floor of the master’s cave. His muscles ached, strained to hold the position with knees wide and hands flat on
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon the floor. He would not move, no matter how much he yearned to relax. Master had yet to release him. No mercy was granted. The ragged breath at the back of his neck continued. Tonight his master’s needs were great, filled with a new and terrifying desire. Then without any warning the master flipped him hard. The smack of the floor against his raw wounds shot the breath from his lungs. Then the master, so much larger and stronger than he, fell on him, dragging his head brutally to the side and sinking long fangs into his neck. The pain and pleasure swam together in a meaningless tide. And he knew the truth. He would be drained on this night. He would die by his master’s will. And he would not fight this fate. The master twisted his body between Dante’s thighs. He entered his ass in one hard violent stroke. When he clutched the master’s shoulders to keep himself still against the hard thrusts, he was met with a growl. The master yanked both hands above his head, imprisoned in one claw‐tipped hand. He thought he’d fought the hold, but maybe he didn’t. All too soon his muscles weakened, relaxed into the coming death. His heart, which had once held such a steady youthful beat, thudded to a faint uneven patter and then stopped altogether.
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Chapter Seven Spyce undid Dante’s cuffs while Mayce supported his undead weight. They’d both heard the safe word, but it had come only a breath before unconsciousness had claimed the vampire. “His heart is slow but steady.” Mayce stated the obvious. “I know. It’s only blood loss.” She released the second cuff and lifted Dante’s hand to lie across his stomach while he was carried across to the cluster of couches. “I think a soak might be good for us all.” Mayce changed directions and stepped into the water with his burden. One end of the pool had contoured seating. Dante was settled into one of the shallow curves. Mayce sat beside him, cradling Dante’s upper body protectively. Shit. “Mayce, you did nothing wrong. You did not take enough blood to endanger him. He could have stopped us at anytime and he did not.” “This was no test of the safe word. He was pushed far enough to have to ask us to stop, which is too far.” Mayce’s fingers absently stroked Dante’s black hair. My darling, that is the purpose of a safe word and of testing it. “We can do right by him now. He needs us and we can soothe him.” She knelt beside them, lifting a bottle of lotion from a rack attached to the wall. She rubbed the lotion into the soft new skin that covered the welts on his thighs. She moved all over his body, massaging, easing, loving him back to glowing health. Even as the new skin knitted together and smoothed
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon out, it revealed a network of old scars that must have been from before he was turned. Scars like those ran deep and took more than time to heal. “Do you remember when we met?” She didn’t wait for Mayce to answer. “You wanted to bite me and I told you no and to take up residence in the fiery pits. I didn’t know you then. At first glance I could not see the gentle heart that beat within your chest. How could I guess that your need to feed on blood was countered by your desperate desire to protect those you hold dear?” “I remember thinking the fire in your blood would satisfy my darker hungers. I didn’t know then that you would also fill my life with joy and love.” “Not to mention six young ones.” She chuckled softly. “I think we need to go home soon for a visit. They may all be grown now, but I still miss them terribly and I know you do as well.” “We will, soon.” “My point in talking about old times was that we don’t know Dante. His heart is still his own and he may never open up to us.” She clasped Mayce’s free hand. “All we can do is gather the information needed to save Flayvor and maybe offer Dante what he needs too. We both may have become caught up in the moment but neither of us has done wrong by him. Neither of us will do so when he wakes.” “You are very wise, my mate.” “Yes, and yet…I am baffled by something. What is so special about this vampire?” “I feel it too. I am drawn to him, like a compass to the poles. I should feel no desire to feed on his undead blood and yet it tasted just as sweet as any I have tasted, even yours, my love.” Mayce continued to stroke Dante’s face and hair. “Even now, I have to touch him, protect him. It makes no sense.” “Destiny is full of unexpected twists. Perhaps he is meant to be ours, to complete our union. It would not be such a bad thing, his submissive to our dominant. But I don’t think it will be so easy to convince him to choose life. It is a rare pain that can drive a vampire to suicide.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon What had driven Dante to such desperate measures? Would he even allow them to help him? Or would he simply fade away regardless of their aid? Dante stirred with a subtle shift of movement. Spyce stood beside her mate so they might both meet the vampire’s waking gaze. “Don’t try to move. You passed out and will probably have a few minutes of dizziness.” Mayce froze, as if the vampire might miss how he’d been cradled so gently. Spyce smiled at her tender mate. He was so tough on the outside and yet so careful of others. “Easy, let us help you sit up,” she said as they slowly eased Dante upright. “How do you feel?” “I thought I was gone.” There was a terrifying wistfulness to the words. She rubbed his completely healed back lightly. “You’re safe now. Do you keep any blood here? A good feeding or two would do you wonders.” “In the fridge, I think.” He started to stand. Mayce pulled him back into the water to sit once more. “Spyce can get it for you. Do you drink it warm or cold?” “I…” He cleared his throat. “Whichever is fine. There should be enough for you as well, if you want.” Spyce crossed the room to the stainless steel kitchen. Inside the fridge was an entire shelf of bagged blood. Unsure if he had a preference, she picked out a couple different types. She returned to an awkward silence between the two men. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Mayce was feeling guilty over drinking from Dante and the vampire was having just as much trouble being a food source. “Here you go, Dante.” She set the bags beside him on the edge of the tub. “I heard your question. Mayce won’t need any more blood for a while. He’s only half blood demon. His father was one. Drinking for him is more like dessert than main course.” Mayce was studying the distant wall of the room. Someday my love, you will not flinch at your needs. “How did it feel to
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon be bitten, Dante?” “Familiar…exquisite.” Just as uncomfortable with the topic, he lifted a bag and uncapped the adapted end, tipping it up to drink the bag in a series of long swallows. Oh sweet creator… Mayce’s eyes were glued to the bob of Dante’s throat as it worked. Not currently needing blood and wanting to take it anyway are two entirely different problems. “Of course,” she said. “I should have realized that you’d been bled before when you were turned.” “More than once. I was a blood slave before I was turned and a sex slave after. I’d still be there, nothing more than a victim, if my sister hadn’t saved me.” Dante’s voice was bland, but his gaze softened at the mention of his sister. “She found me and staked my master on her nineteenth birthday. She and Maya did.” “Who is Maya?” Mayce asked. “She is the one you are seeking, the one who can help you find your missing comrade. She is something I’ve never met before or since. She looks mostly human but she doesn’t age and works magic. She is very powerful. You can ask her directly if you want more personal info than that.” “She’s the one who took Flayvor?” Spyce dematerialized the empty bags. “Rynix took the demon. Maya was hunting Rynix. She will either have saved your friend already or will be able to help you to do so. I would have told you at sunrise except that my only way of contacting her is when she comes to the club at dusk. Sundown is the only time or place I have ever seen her.” Something in his voice held a secret and she pushed to uncover it. “Why here? Why then?” Dante wiped his mouth and then answered. “She meets her dealer at my club, every night without fail for the past five years. Before you ask, I don’t know what she buys or what he sells. I don’t want to know. I don’t ask. The two have never caused me any problems so their business is their own.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon “But this Maya will know where Flayvor is?” Spyce trembled with excitement. “And she won’t hurt him?” Dante tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. She has no reason to, but I have rarely been able to predict her motives. She is…unusual.” “I’m going to tell Bryck. He can meet us here at sundown.” Mayce stood up and left the pool, materializing his cell phone as he walked across the room. Spyce didn’t comment on his need for privacy. He would be updating Bryck on all they’d learned and asking permission to bring Dante back to the compound. The connection between them was too strong to ignore. They sure as hell wouldn’t be killing him with sex or any other method. Her own deadly pheromones were currently locked away and no amount of sex would harm Dante. She was certain Mayce had done the same. They couldn’t let him die and taking him to visit his sister might give Dante a reason to live if two adoring Synn demons didn’t do the trick. Maybe she could start the persuasion here and now. Spyce caught the vampire’s hand in hers, pulling it into her lap with a soft splash of shallow water. “Dante?” His dark eyes found hers. One eyebrow lifted. “Why did you try to kill yourself?” She paused at Dante’s flinch. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” “I guess it doesn’t matter if you know. Clarice was hurt because of me. It was to control me, that Rynix attacked her. Even after I swore to help him, he did what he did and left her helpless. I wasn’t strong enough to stop him or help her. I don’t deserve to live. The longer I’m around, the more people I hurt with my mistakes.” She wanted to comfort him and help him to see that everyone screwed up and let the ones they loved get hurt. That he could be forgiven for any mistake. But he wouldn’t accept either platitude. If she had to act the hardened bitch to get his attention then so be it.
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Chapter Eight “Pussy. That’s what life is all about.” Spyce gripped Dante’s hand and dragged him further into the water until they were both waist deep. “You like to give up control because it frees you from responsibility. There’s nothing wrong with that option, but it won’t free you from your past.” “I know.” She pushed him back against the sloped side of the pool. This conversation was about to get ugly and she wanted him in a position to take what he was told without argument. “Did you hate your first master as much as you hate yourself? Did you ever forgive his mistakes?” “I…it was not my place to judge him.” “You give that place to the one in control and never ask, never hesitate.” It wasn’t a question. Dante had no concept of how to live life as a free man. And it was about damn time he learned. Not that she wanted to give him up, but he’d never even been taught enough to survive on his own, let alone thrive. “Who brings your blood? Who runs your club?” She crawled up his body, forcing him to lean back until only his head was above water. “I have a manager for the club. She makes all the decisions.” She leaned into him, licking his chest, nipping at first one flat nipple and then the other until both stood out at attention. The rest of his body reacted just as beautifully. His thick cock swelled, resting heavy over his abdomen. “And the blood? Where does the blood come from?”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon His breath was a little ragged and his head fell back until only his face remained in the air and his black hair floated out around him like a dark halo. “My master…my maker had the arrangements already set up. The blood arrives weekly, but I don’t know who delivers it.” She rolled them, moving further up the slope and maneuvering him to kneel between her thighs. “Does this thing have whirlpool options?” He looked up at the change in questioning. “Yes.” “Turn it on and then I want you to pleasure me.” He hesitated. “How will I know what you want?” “I will tell you, or perhaps Mayce will when he returns. Now see to the controls.” Spyce watched while Dante swam the short distance across to the opposite side and tweaked the adjustments until the water lapped lazily at her body. Mayce, we have to help free him. What if he does not wish to be free? Then we will force him to learn anyhow, she answered angrily. Even if he never chooses to live without a master, he needs to have the skills to survive on his own so he can choose without fear. I agree. What do you have in mind? We start today, this minute, forcing him to act more dominant even if it is in the guise of submissive obedience. I want you to guide him as he tops me. And tomorrow or the next we will help him to take back control of his life outside the bedroom. You are wise, my love. Mayce moved to the side of the pool, sitting with his feet dangling over the edge and watching Dante swim back. Dante rose out of the water as the slope increased until he stood between Spyce’s ankles in knee high water. “What do you wish of me, Mistress?” “Dante.” Mayce drew his attention. “You will obey my directions, but your focus will remain on Spyce. Do you understand?” “Yes, Master.” The vampire turned his gaze back to Spyce and his erection gave a nod of approval. “You will pleasure her with your hands and mouth. Now kiss her.” Dante fell to his knees, holding his body above her, but close
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon enough to reach her lips. He brushed against her hesitantly. She did nothing to help him. Again he returned to touch their lips together. And again the contact sparked but remained innocent. “She wants your tongue. Use your tongue like a cock and fuck her mouth.” He tasted the crease of her lips, running his tongue over the crack, pressing enough to widen her and sweep inside for a deeper taste. When she met his advance, he gave way, offering her control of the kiss. Control she did not take, did not this time want. She retreated until once more they were barely lip to lip. “Lower your hips between her thighs, allow your chest to touch the peaks of her breasts and take her mouth firmly. Do as you are commanded or be punished.” Dante trembled. His hips settled between Spyce’s smooth thighs, his cock landed against the heat of her entrance. His chest dipped until the tight beads of her nipples were paper close to contact with his skin. The light hair on his chest tickled her. His lips claimed hers, slowly seductively, but this time with more force and demand. It was the kind of kiss he had never before offered another and yet had accepted often. Spyce moaned into his mouth. Her fingers sank into his hair, holding him at just the angle she wanted. “Take her hands, lift them above her head and hold them in your left hand.” Dante shifted, resting his weight on Spyce to grab her wrists and trap them above her head. He continued the kiss, although the tenor slowed and became more languid. Mayce rolled into the water and swam to join them. “You will pleasure her pussy with your mouth.” Mayce caught his mate’s wrists and shifted her between his thick thighs. He left her angled slightly to the side and used his free hand to stroke his own hard cock. With her braced across his thigh, her lower body was raised to float at the surface. The change should have surprised, perhaps scared Dante. Instead he relished this new control. Oh, there was some fear. What if he couldn’t please her? What if Mayce demanded he do more than Spyce wanted?
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon “May I still use my safe word if needed?” Both demons met his gaze. Mayce was the one to answer. “Yes, of course you may. Are you asking to stop now?” He shook his head. “Then continue. I want you to massage her legs and then use your mouth and tongue to bring her to her first orgasm.” Dante turned between her thighs, resting one of her legs on his back while he focused on the other. He kneaded her muscular calves before moving slowly upward to her thighs. She was lean and powerful, with sleek muscles that bunched under his ministrations. And beneath her skin he felt the rush of her rich blood. In all his years he’d never tasted fresh blood, never taken the life‐ giving meal straight from the source. Even in his maker’s care he had been fed collected blood from a glass. It was all so terribly civilized. As he moved up her thighs, pressing kisses nearer and nearer the center of her writhing arousal, his body urged him to accept his inner predator. Every cell of his being cried out to bite her femoral artery and feed on her hot, spicy blood. “Lick over her pussy. Use long sweeps that dip between her folds.” He obeyed, fighting his needs. Not that her aroused scent wasn’t a torment of a different kind. It demanded he indulge in sex now and blood later or better yet, both at once. His fangs extended, but he was careful to only touch her with his tongue, tasting her amazing flavor. Spyce bucked. His pulse raced with the need to devour her. Without any command, he deepened his thrusting tongue until his fangs were pressed hard against either side of her cleft. He plunged in and out until her muffled scream vibrated through her body, against his mouth. Mayce held her hands locked and kissed her fiercely, swallowing her screams, controlling her thrashing. The battle, and the pinning of prey, raged through Dante like fire through his missing soul. He doubled his efforts, tonguing her clit, sucking hard at the swollen nub. But in the frenzy, his fangs slipped, cutting a fine line in her flesh,
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon releasing the scent of blood into the air. Two feral growls responded. Mayce fell onto Spyce’s throat, sinking his fangs into her and drawing hard at her vein. Dante saw it through a red haze. Without a second thought, he turned and bit into the thick pulse pounding through her upper thigh. Before he did more than taste the burn and fire of her blood, she dematerialized from within their arms, reappearing several feet back from the pool. Blood trailed from four tiny holes, two at her throat and two from her thigh. Dante surged from the water after his prey. Stop him, Mayce! The silent scream echoed through Dante’s skull, locking his body even before Mayce tackled him back into the water. “You will not fight me.” The growled words relaxed his muscles in a heartbeat. What had he done? Would they throw him aside for his disobedience? Until that moment he hadn’t considered that there might be a future for him with the two demons, but the certain loss of that unborn dream tore loose the remains of his hope. Mayce released him and went to his mate, pulling her into his arms and rocking her in place. Both demons looked near tears over what he’d done. He’d fucked up again. Dante pulled himself from the water and sagged at the edge. He’d attacked his mistress, tried to feed on her. He couldn’t face them, kept his back to them, while his own tears fell freely. When had he begun to hope, to dream? He couldn’t remember considering a future, let alone one where he might find a relationship that would work for him. And yet, here he was mourning the loss, knowing he would be cast aside for yet another terrible mistake.
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Chapter Nine Spyce cupped her mate’s jaw gently. I’m not hurt, love. We had to stop him from feeding. You’ve forgotten what he is. “At a glance, I would say he is feeling guilty as hell for hurting you.” “Mayce, he is a vampire.” She squeezed her fingers around his and led him back to Dante. “Will you grab us some towels?” She trusted Mayce to let her do the talking here. She sat down beside Dante, careful to not touch him just yet. “You didn’t hurt me.” Dante’s expression spoke clearly of his disbelief. “I stopped your feeding to protect you, not me. Vampires cannot feed from demons. Our blood would be like poison to you. One sip would make you ill. More than a swallow would kill you.” His gaze jumped to hers then shied away. A horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe he’d known. Maybe he’d been using her blood as just another method of suicide. If so, he was far more fucked up than she’d first thought. It would have been the kind of death that made slow incineration feel good. “Did you know?” His clear blue eyes widened. “I didn’t know.” Relief flooded her with his answer. Mayce handed a towel to Spyce and then wrapped a second one around Dante’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.” His arm stayed around the vampire. “If I had remembered how dangerous demon blood would be for you, I never would have pushed your hunting instincts so hard.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Dante’s puzzled gaze collided with Mayce’s. “Why did you?” He sighed. “We wanted you to gain enough independence to survive alone. It was a mistake to force you so soon, but we only tried out of fear for you.” “Alone…” Mayce heard the pain in that one word and felt it deeply in his own heart. “We hope you will want to stay with us, but we wanted it to be out of joy and perhaps someday, love. Neither Spyce nor I want you to feel trapped with us. We want you to choose a life with us because it’s what you want.” Silence was his answer. Mayce gave him a gentle hug and then pulled back to give him more space. When the silence continued to stretch, he began to fear they’d misread Dante. Had their own needs overshadowed Dante’s desires? What if the vampire had no interest in becoming their third? Pain bloomed in his chest. Pain which he immediately rejected. Somehow they’d show him how good it could be. Spyce slowly stood, holding out a hand to Dante. “It’s been a long morning. What do you say to some actual sleep in that big bed of yours?” “Must be close to noon. I take it you don’t feel the same weariness as us undead types.” “No, but it has been a very long day for us, and sleep would probably do us all some good.” Spyce led the way, guiding the vampire to the giant bed. She made the thought of them together in bed no more than a convenience when to Mayce the thought hardened him with aching need. With all they’d done together, he ached to finish the act. Too much had come between them. Soon, my love. But our vampire needs this time. Our needs will be met after his. Dante was shocked to hear their private discussion so clearly in his mind. The eaves‐dropping wasn’t intentional but hearing the lovers discuss him with such tenderness melted the deep fear he’d lived with for so long. He sank down beside Spyce, letting her draw his arm over her waist. Mayce pulled the silk sheet up over them and then slipped under to
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon join them. Day sleep dragged at Dante. Tucked securely between two powerful demons, he felt safe for the first time in years. Safe enough that he dreamed his worst nightmare… The sun was rising and not a second too soon. He watched his master warily, praying he would follow his usual routine and seek sleep with the dawn. If so, perhaps he would survive another night. Without a word, the whip fell one more time before the master turned, leaving him bound with his back against the cold wall. This beating had been all about cruelty and every blow had felt twice the pain. Some business dealing gone wrong had left the master angry and his skin had become the outlet for all that fury. The floor was slick with his blood. He should have been starving to replace that lost fluid and yet all he felt was deep exhaustion and relief that the beating had ended. The master leaned back on his couch, the one reserved for these “special” playtimes. It faced the whipping wall and allowed the master to watch him. He wasn’t allowed to sag into the bonds or relieve his tired muscles until he was freed. And by the look of his master’s drooping eyelids, that would not be until nightfall, if even then. Despite the master’s closing eyes and seeming disinterest, he knew from painful experience that if he allowed the bonds to hold him even for a few minutes relief, punishment would be swift and without mercy. On days like this one, he wondered if there were some better life out there for him or if this one would continue on through eternity. When had being mastered lost its appeal? Had it ever been what he wanted? His knees bent, without his permission, sliding his body down the wall until only the chains at his wrists held him up. He forced his weight back up, leaning back on the wall for whatever support it offered. He opened his senses, desperately searching for anything that might distract him from his own weakness. The cave was quiet, the chambers far enough back into the mountain that any daytime sounds were muffled to silence. The dim scent of the ocean could be caught every now and then. The black of the room had once terrified him as a child, but that had been more than thirty years ago. He was no longer a child and no longer human. His
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon vampire night vision made the room comfortable in shadows. A soft tap, perhaps the incautious touch of a shoe to the polished floor… Another and another, so quiet that if he had not been listening so intently he would have missed it. Then again, perhaps the sound was imagined. Who would be sneaking through the master’s lair? Surely no one was that fearless. He focused hard and heard no more suspicious sounds. He must have imagined them. He straightened his knees, forcing them to take his weight. The chamber’s door crashed open. The master jumped but then slammed back into the couch, clutching at a thick spear where it had torn into his chest. His gurgling screams filled Dante with horror. “Nooo!” he cried. He fought his bonds and helplessly watched as a tiny woman with wild silver hair flew across the room. She landed on the master’s lap with her lean denim‐clad thighs to either side, but there was nothing sexual about her attack. She brutally ripped the spear from the master’s chest, pressing her right hand over the gaping wound with fingers splayed so that the blood flowed freely down across her skin. Despite the anger and fear that sparked in the master’s eyes, his body lay unnaturally still. What power could hold him so like a statue? The woman faced him, with little more than their breath between them and then it was as if she breathed him in. After the first breath, his open mouth remained wide in a soundless scream. Hours passed in that heartbeat of time. Dante watched it all. Fear laced through him with the terrible unknown. Would he be killed next? If not, would he be taken prisoner or cast out? Without the master what would happen to him? Eventually the master was dead and he was alone with this strange woman. No, not alone, another female crept toward him from the shadows, this one blond and young, far too young to witness the horror here. Yet she came forward, each step less timid. But the closer she came, the more she cried, until she was leaning against his body, sobbing and fumbling at the restraints. Who was she, this girl tearing at his bonds, crying harder with each wound she encountered? Her blue eyes met his then darted away, but that flash had been familiar. The blue… where had he seen that intense shade before? Finally he heard her words and yet they at first made no sense… “I am your sister and I found you.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Dante jerked awake. Remembered fears trembled through him. Before he’d been rescued he’d known his place. He hadn’t been happy but he’d known what was expected of him and how to cope with that reality. Then everything had been stripped away and he was flung into the world, proclaimed free. But being free ended up becoming one confusion after another. Clarice never understood. The business and a place to live did not settle him. All along, he’d known what was missing and had for a while sought it out in illicit sexual flings, but none of them were able to properly master him, to offer him what his body craved and his mind demanded. Now he had Spyce and Mayce and if he was to trust them…they wanted him to stay in their lives. But they also wanted him to be more independent. Could he even manage to be what they wanted, even with their help?
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Chapter Ten “Do you want me?” Dante’s question slipped out and was met by the tightening of two embraces and the affirmative answering of two minds and two voices. “We want you, Dante, for always.” Spyce turned her head and kissed his arm. Mayce’s arms convulsed until their bodies were a flush line from shoulder to thigh. His breath blew over Dante’s shoulder blade. “You complete us.” The demon nipped at his skin affectionately. They flooded him with acceptance, and the blessing offered him a whole new future so different from anything he’d ever expected, so very overwhelming. He breathed in and out, just letting the feeling fill him. They wanted him, even as flawed as he was, they wanted him. And he wanted them both as well. He felt safe and, yes, even happy. Not to mention horny. The press of the two demons to his front and back felt perfectly decadent. Every so often Spyce would shift, pressing her ass back against his groin. Even the lightest touch had him hard for her. And Mayce, well the demon had been hard when they’d come to bed. He’d felt the arousal and half‐expected to be awakened by that huge cock. Even now, the heavy length pressed hotly against his lower back. They’d offered acceptance and obviously wanted to have sex just as much as he did, but neither demon made a move to initiate and he wasn’t sure how to do so. He opened his mouth to ask and nothing came out. A second effort did no better. If words failed him perhaps he could get
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon things moving with a little action? Dante rolled his hips forward, sliding his cock between Spyce’s thighs and then he moved back until Mayce moaned with the pressure. Our boy wants to play. Spyce turned over and pulled Dante down into a kiss. Mayce stroked his hands up and down Dante’s back. I have no objections. In fact I think it is a fine chance to show him what we have to offer. If Spyce hadn’t been sucking his tongue down her throat, he might have asked for details up front. As it was, he let thoughts fly away and focused only on giving back all he could to his lovers. Spyce pulled free and demanded, “I want you hard and fast. Do you object?” “Hell, no. That sounds pretty damn good to me. So long as Mayce doesn’t mind.” Mayce growled low and seductive. “I don’t mind at all. I imagine I will find something to do with my time.” Spyce rolled Dante until he knelt between her thighs. She stroked over his swollen cock and dipped under to cup his balls and rub the stones gently. He tightened at the contact and reveled in her caress. But she’d said she wanted hard and fast, and he sure as hell didn’t need any foreplay after all they’d done together. He moved just enough so she couldn’t reach him, and then he petted her pussy and thumbed over her clit and dipped through her wet folds. She was ready for him. He guided his cock over her entrance, sliding the head back and forth, letting her moist heat burn through him. “I said hard and fast, Dante.” Her fingers dug into his hips, yanking him forward, burying him deep…but not deep enough. He grabbed her thighs and drove in to the hilt. Then he began dancing with her need, driving forward and withdrawing in long rolling motions. She bucked against him, locking her legs around him and grinding them together. When she clutched at his shoulders, he gathered her in his arms, bending her over his thrusts. She screamed out and writhed. “Yes!” Then she shattered over him, flooding him with the pleasure of her orgasm. He took the pleasure with
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon him and rode her harder than ever, clutching her ass and pounding. When Mayce’s hands caught his hips, there was no surprise, only pleasure. Mayce at his back could mean only one thing. He would be given as much as he gave, and he could think of nothing he wanted more. He slowed his thrusting, waiting for Mayce to join them. And then he was there. A slick hand pushed between his thighs, stroked his balls, and dipped between him and Spyce, while another hand pressed his ass forward to resume his faltering thrusts. Once the rhythm was resumed and Spyce met each stroke with her rising hips, those hands parted his ass and slick fingers stroked over his entrance. At first just petting, and then entering, parting, filling. And finally the press of Mayce’s thick cock, demanding a place to plunge. Dante gasped and fought to hold his motions steady, but his body rebelled, bucking backward, forcibly taking the cock’s head. A heartbeat passed, just enough for his body to adjust, before Mayce drove forward in a slow consuming move, until their hips were flush together and he could take no more. He lost his rhythm completely. Spyce took control from beneath him, arching back and riding his cock. As if coordinated, Mayce withdrew and entered him again in time with Spyce’s rolling hips. The pleasure rocked through him. It ruled every cell of his being, locking him between the two demons taking all they would give. His body jerked in time. He cried out in a harsh sound of desire. Tell me what you need, Spyce whispered into his mind. But he was beyond answering. Without a word, she knew. She clutched him close, allowing Mayce’s motion to bring them all together. Her lips buried in his thick hair, breathing over his ear. “Come for us, love. Let us all find pleasure together.” The words broke him. He slammed into a wall of pleasure and disintegrated. Then he came again when Spyce and Mayce simultaneously found their pleasure. Mayce’s hands locked on Spyce’s thighs as his hips
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon jumped convulsively. Teeth set into Dante’s shoulder, muffling the demon’s final bellow. They fell together a tangle of sated bodies. An ache of a whole new kind bloomed in his chest. What was that new feeling? Happiness? Love? Or just the result of the best fucking he’d ever experienced. Whatever the answer, he happily snuggled between the demons. “You have to be commanded, don’t you?” Spyce asked, while stroking the line of his smooth jaw with the tips of her fingers. He didn’t bother to hedge. He knew exactly what she was asking. “Yes. My maker demanded I control my orgasm no matter the stimulation. In the right hands it is quite useful.” Mayce squeezed his arm. “Much as I’m sure we will enjoy your restraint, neither of us will punish you if you’d like that rule lifted.” The concession touched him. This particular training had resulted in his harshest lessons and his master had been insistent that he learn ultimate control. Without control you have no value to me. The words had slapped him more than once. Mayce caught his face, forcing him to meet the demon’s dark gaze. “Your maker was a selfish bastard that deserved whatever death found him. We care about you and will negotiate any rule so that we can all find happiness. If this rule brings you pain then it can be forgotten now or if ingrained too deeply we can work with you to overcome it.” Their lips came together for a gentle, comforting brush. “Would you like to take back control of your orgasm?” Mayce’s voice demanded an answer, while his fingers slid sweetly though Dante’s hair to caress the back of his neck lovingly. The offer and the simple undemanding touch of skin warmed Dante deep inside. Before, he had wondered if this was love. Now he was sure. No one would care so deeply or offer such mutual respect without some fashion of love. He smiled and initiated a light kiss, pressing chastely back against Mayce’s lips. “I may someday wish for that control, but I don’t at this time.” Perhaps the affection would have led to another bout of love play, perhaps cries of pleasure would have echoed through the room, and they
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon could have been well entertained until the sun reached the horizon and the club opened. But instead all three were cruelly forced to face reality with the sound of smashing furniture. The crashing echoed through the ceiling from the first floor.
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Chapter Eleven Mayce and Spyce materialized beside the bed, fully clothed. Dante joined them more slowly, dragging on his leather pants but not bothering with anything else. The demons were already in motion, heading upstairs, and he wasn’t about to let them defend his club without him. Secrecy would have been his choice but instead Mayce led a headlong charge, flying onto the main floor and directly into the fray. The room was wrecked with broken tables and shattered glasses. Dante’s staff would be arriving soon. What if they’d been here and been hurt because of him? Pain and guilt shafted through him. Warmth flooded over his pain. Mayce and Spyce offering comfort even while they helped to defend his life and property. Rynix snarled and attacked Mayce with long, knife‐like talons and snapping jaws. Even when Mayce morphed into his demonic form, he appeared to be overmatched by Rynix’s shear brutality. Spyce engaged with a second demon and a third dismissed Dante with a glance, turning to attack Spyce’s unprotected back. Dante had never been much of a fighter, but in that moment he knew he’d risk it all to protect his lovers, just as he knew they would do for him. He dove in, placing his back to Spyce’s and taking the brunt of the slashing assault. His bare chest bled from a dozen wounds before he lifted his hands in defense. A few swings later he realized the futility of trying to box with a demon. Damn it, I’ll use the only weapons I have. He dived to the side as if to flee but turned and leapt on the demon’s back
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon before Spyce was within reach. His fingers tore at the demon’s fragile wings until the beast decided he was worthy of notice and attempted to slam him back into the side of the bar. Devastating pain shot through him. He might be knocked out by another slam that fierce. The demon fighting with Spyce backed her toward this one. Soon she would be trapped between their violence. The demon he held spun and tore free of his grip, body slamming him against the corner of the bar. A wash of pain blinded him as he fell, sprawling to the floor. Someone howled in pain. Spyce cursed and Mayce growled. Dante struggled to his feet, shaking his head to clear away the spotty vision. Holy fuck! Mayce was down but getting up fast. Rynix was gone and the two remaining blood demons were tearing Spyce up with their deadly claws. Any second, one would find an opening to go after her with the terrifying fangs that put his own to shame. The next moments happened in slow motion. Mayce leapt to his mate’s defense. He knifed the demon facing Spyce. When he dragged the beast backward a final flailing kick knocked Spyce back into the blood demon at her back. Dante flinched from the coming assault. There was no way for Spyce to avoid the striking fangs. Her throat would be torn out. She would die. Not today she wouldn’t. Dante leapt onto the demon’s back, shoving his arm in to block the strike meant for Spyce. The demon’s fangs tore into his bare arm. Pain slashed through him. But pain meant little. All that mattered was keeping the beast from hurting his lovers. Dante’s fangs surged, sinking deep into the demon’s neck ripping and rending, and tasting the foul blood as if flowed out with the demon’s fading life. Then he forgot the pain of his shredded arm. All he felt was the burning agony in his mouth and mind. He fell into the black of that death, and found a surprise. He didn’t want to die. Spyce was at his side first and then Mayce was too. Only then did he realize he was looking up at them because he was flat on his back. How
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon had that happened? Had he killed the demon? Strangely, he couldn’t remember. “Easy, Dante. Don’t try to move.” Spyce wiped his face with a rag, probably cleaning the blood away. Which was good, because the moment he considered the demon blood, the burning reawakened in his mind. We can’t lose him, Mayce whispered silently, raggedly. His hand found Dante’s and gripped him painfully fierce. Spyce continued to clean away the blood. Tears gathered at her eyes. We may not be given a choice. She was crying for him! Their pain jerked him from his own. “I’m not dying.” The words came out too quiet and choked up. His hand was heavy but he forced it to obey him as he reached up and touched Spyce’s face. “I won’t die.” He tried to smile reassuringly but his fangs ached too much to tighten his lips. “Oh, Dante… you bit him for me. You’d better live, dammit. I won’t have you guilting up my life just so we can live on without you.” “I bit him for us.” The pain was easing. He even managed a small smile, now that the drama was passing. “I bit him, but I didn’t swallow. So that means I will live, right?”
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Chapter Twelve Dante was yanked up from the floor into one embrace between the two demons. This was where he belonged. Life for him had changed forever. “You didn’t really think I was going to die, did you?” Spyce glanced away. “You did try to kill yourself this morning.” Mayce backed off a little, looking a little unsure of himself. “It did cross our minds that you might still seek that end rather than stay with us.” He shook his head mutely. How could they think that? But then he hadn’t spoken much of a future. He’d thought of it plenty but there hadn’t been much time to work out the details. “It’s okay, Dante.” Spyce whispered. “You don’t have to explain yourself or make any choices right now. I’m just glad you weren’t killed.” “A lot has happened since this morning. I don’t want to leave you, either of you. The best luck I’ve ever had was to be plucked out of the sunrise by two sexy demons.” He reached for Mayce and was enveloped in another hug, this time accompanied by a deep promising kiss. Spyce was there too, her arms around him as well. Her face pressed to his bare back. The crash of the door slamming open jerked them out of the comforting moment. The biggest, nastiest demon Dante had ever seen stood in the open doorway outlined in the fading light. “If I can break up the fucking love‐ fest, it’s almost dusk.”
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon Mayce pulled back and then placed his body solidly in front of Dante. “You just missed playtime with Rynix.” “I know. I followed his ass here. I’d follow him back out too except I understand your toy’s contact will be here soon. I wouldn’t want to miss the party with this Maya.” “He’s not a toy, Commander.” Spyce stepped up beside her mate. That was when Dante realized this new demon was their boss and he might not approve of the sex demons taking in a vampire. Would he be cast aside because of that lack of approval? Was his chance with Mayce and Spyce gone before it even began? “Sir, he is our third, just as we’d hoped. Will this be a problem?” Mayce reached back and squeezed Dante’s hand then released it. “Knock off the shit,” the commander growled. ʺI’m not going to kill him so long as he doesn’t keep you from your duties.” Thank the Creator! Spyce shared silently. Their commander glared, cluing Dante in to the dark demon’s ability to hear Spyce’s thoughts too. When Commander Bryck stepped forward, everyone tensed. “Welcome to the family, Dante.” The growled words sounded anything but welcoming. Still…“Thank you, Sir.” He needed to be accepted by this demon. Spyce and Mayce needed this as much as he did. Dante gathered his courage and held out a hand to shake before realizing that might not be appropriate. Stubbornly, he kept his hand out. Mayce shifted restlessly and Dante couldn’t blame him for the discomfort. Their commander put off an ugly vibe. Finally Commander Bryck clasped his hand and Dante all but passed out. Wave after wave of black energy enveloped him. It sucked at him, pulling him into that darkness, deeper into the black than Dante had even considered, let alone seen. Then he was falling into the endless well and knew what waited at the bottom. Death. Two sets of arms caught him, dragged him back into the dim light of the club. Dante smiled then because he knew Mayce and Spyce would
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Walking at Sundown by L. Shannon always be there to catch him. And strangely enough the worried frown on their commander’s face said he would do his best to protect him as well. It was a look his own sister had worn since she’d first saved him. It was a look that said “family.” Slowly the effects of the commander’s darkness began to fade, sinking back to a vague fear and a low, terrible vibration which was surprisingly familiar. He’d felt that kind of death in only one other being, one due to arrive any moment. The coming confrontation just got a whole lot more interesting. “Well, Commander, I can say without a doubt that Maya is just going to love you.” “Just fucking goodie,” the demon snarled and turned abruptly toward the door. At first all Dante felt was the sun dipping below the horizon, but when Spyce and Mayce both looked toward the doorway, he knew what they all felt. It was Maya coming, and she brought her own sort of darkness. “She’s here.” The end, or almost…
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Author Bio L. Shannon, the author, came into existence in June of 2004. Shannon’s always been a reader and lover of books, but never considered writing until one night when she ran out of books to read… She began writing that very night as the first line of defense in a battle against insomnia. Her writing has steadily grown into a full‐out war against reality. Her friends kindly say reality never stood a chance. The L. Shannon novels have expanded to fill an entire world with paranormal wonders including Valàfrn werewolves, Tascryn demons, blood‐sucking vampires, sexy selkies and many, many more. Be careful if you choose to enter Shannon’s hunk‐filled world. You may never wish to leave… In the time Shannon doesn’t spend writing, she’s kept busy by bothering her husband, showing dogs, gardening and watching over her four Butterfly Koi ponds. You can learn more about her writing and her life at www.lshannon.net.
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