Tuesday, September 27, 2011

When inspiration hits at inconveinent times

Yes so there I am, minding my own business, just reading a little something to wane down my day and WHAM! Inspiration for a new book hits! Eyeye! And knowing me, I have to jot, and yes I do "JOT" things down, I had to whip out my handy dandy trusty notebook to purge these ideas before I spent another restless night dwelling over the details, that surely would keep me up all night.
So here's the kicker.....I have nearly 16 stories waiting to be written, each have outlines done already with matching play lists..Yes I"m a bit OCD about that. Music really inspires the story for me and the characters. I'll heat a particular song and BAM a new character or scene will pop up.
So what I am to do with all this? Purge my system until I can get to it. SO the stage is set and I'm ready to roll.
Currently I have 4 yes 4 WIPS (Work In Progresses) which need my immediate attention. So I'll return when I can cheery folks.

Tootles and schmooches!

Current Playlist

Current Playlist List:

Halestorm: Familar taste of poisen
I'm not an Angel

Trapt: Enigma

Enigma: Sadness
Age of Loneliness
Crystal Tears
Gravity of Love

Six Am: Life is Beautiful
Sure feels Right

Adelle: Set fire to the rain
Rolling in the deep

Lady Antebellum: Need you now

Shinedown: The crow and the butterfly
Second chance

The Fray: Vienna

Skillet: Whispers in the dark
The last night

Queensryche: Jet city woman
Lady Jane

A Perfect Circle: Blue
Sleeping Beauty

Breaking Benjamin: Broken Soul
Give me a sign

Damian Rice: The blower's daughter

Monday, September 12, 2011

The Last Kiss:::Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Raeve paced around the arrival screen at Phoenix International Airport anxiously, waiting for the flight information to change from “in range” to “arrived.” It felt like years had passed since she last saw Aidan, since she last held him in her arms and pecked kisses down his jaw and over his soft warm lips. Now he was just minutes away from her and that hot flutter of need pooled between her thighs. “What the hell is taking so friggin long!” she groused. Her lip started to tear from gnawing on it, her skin flushed with memories of his last touch. She had meticulously picked out her outfit after eighteen tries, and spent the better part of the afternoon preparing his favorite dinner just to make his first night home perfect. Pacing around the boards for the hundredth time, her anxiety grew. Time felt like it had stop all together as a cruel joke to her.
Watching the screen, her heart tripped over itself when the board finally read “Arrived”, letting out a low blow, she steadied herself, facing the gateway that he’d exit from. Her hand patted over her shirt and smoothed back her glossy black hair, as the other gripped her cell phone tightly, waiting for that first text from him. Her emotions ran rampant with excitement; happiness and sadness all rolled into one ball, ready to burst from her chest. She only had five days with him before he had to leave again. This time their separation wouldn’t last for months, but for years. The thought of the time passing by without him turned that aching wound in her heart into sheer anguish. She would refuse to show him how much it hurt her to see leave again. He didn’t need that on his conscious as he left to serve our country. No, she would keep a tight head and lock down those feelings of dread until she was once again alone release all those crystal tears that stood on a razors edge of spilling over.
The first text came, stirring her out of her revelry, “Hey sweetheart, just landed. Are you here yet?” eyeing the text, pricks of tears started to mist in her hazel green eyes. Punching the reply button, “Yes, I’m waiting at the gate for you.” ‘I’ve been here waiting for an hour, hoping your flight would land early and I could wrap my arms around you and smother you with kisses’
Stepping closer to the boundaries of the gate, Raeve’s skin flushed a deep shade of blush as she fettered over her hair again. Another text came, “You look fine sweetheart.” Cocking her brow, her smirk grew wider as she eyed the corridor he would be coming out of. Catching a glimpse of a man with his eyes purposely purchasing a piece of the floor, he was working hard at his stoic expression while leaning casually against a pillar. Her eyes zeroed in on him, coughing to get his attention. “Nice babe, you match the wall.” She barked as he slid out from his hiding spot. The sinuous roll of his gait was like a wolf stalking its prey. His eyes locked onto hers and his strides were demanding as he ate up the distance between them in mere seconds. The twist in his lips curled into sinister smile, pretending he was a villain about to kidnap the town’s beauty for his own debauchery.
His deep laugh rumbled through her like vibrations of waves crashing over her. His thick muscled arms wrapped around her tiny frame with ease, lifting her into the air as he crushed body to his broad chest. “God I’ve missed you sweetheart!” Without another word, his lips crashed down on hers. Like honey to a bee, Aidan sank into her kiss, slicing his way into her mouth. She didn’t fight it, couldn’t. She’d been dreaming of this moment for weeks and nothing was going to stop her from indulging in every second of it.
Raeve felt the rightness of being with him, staring into his beautiful sky blue eyes, feeling his arms wrap around her for dear life. The entire world disappeared as she returned his kiss, locking her arms around his neck tightly. Her heart thundered in her ears and nearly pounded out of chest as she hugged him tighter. Her lungs burned for oxygen she willingly denied. Reluctantly he released her, licking her lips for one more taste. Slowly stroking her spine, Raeve say the burning need he held deep inside.
“I’ve missed you so much my love.” she murmured, “Now what do you say we get you home? I think we have more things to discuss that require a little more privacy.” Slipping him an impish smirk, she clasped his hand, intertwining their fingers while walking for the exit.
“Mmmm, sounds perfect.” He growled in her ear, pecking another kiss along the soft sinews of her neck. Shivers skated down her spine as his fingertips grazed down her back; her own internal fire erupted from smoldering embers to bon fire. Tightening her fingers around his, her blush deepened to soft crimson and her breath hitched. Pulling him down for another kiss she murmured against his lips, “You could set fire to the rain my love.”
Her favorite sultry grin grazed her mouth as he gently agreed with his kiss. “You’re the gasoline to my fire sweetheart,” casting a wink to her, “don’t you forget that.”
Every word he spoke resonated throughout her body like electrical currents. For all the conversations that lasted until the early morning hours as they remained tangled in bed, talking about anything and everything, it was always his deep rumbling voice that slid syllables off his silver tongue with the grace of poetry that stirred most in her.

Chronicles of the Dark Angels: Ferrian's Story:::Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was just another restless night in a long endless stream of nightmare filled dreamscapes. Sleep was unimportant anyways. Ferrian rolled onto her back as the last of the sun’s rays started to descend. The golden skewers of light flickered around her room, breaking past the heavy curtains.
Wriggling to find that one comfortable spot had become a lifelong search. Her back housed odd lumps alongside her shoulder blades, a birth defect, a nuance more like it. Twisting back and forth only made the increasing ache of late only worse. The aching in her body only seemed to pale in comparison to the screaming ache in her head. Another nightmare filled sleep and another round of Holy Hell’s and night-sweats, waking to the utter quiet shattered by her suffocating cries.
Scrubbing her face nearly raw, the raised ragged scar from her brow to her chin was one of her constant reminders why she was a monster. Tracing the thick band of flesh, the memories of the night she received this came rushing back with a renewed urgency. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Ferrian pulled her mind back and pushed herself on to her feet. Coffee, yup coffee nectar of the gods would drag her out of her morbid train of thought.
The night would be long, as she slipped into her beat to shit cargo pants and black hoodie. Another night to pass in her life, another night of work, lately that’s all she seemed to do. Running ten hours shifts six days a week wasn’t enough to keep her mental muscle busy. In truth the loading docks hardly entertained her mind at all, but it was there she could remain anonymous among the world. No one knew her name much less could guess that she was female. Hell she highly doubt that anyone even knew what color hair or eyes she had. And that was just fine with her. The less anyone knew about her the easier life was.
Her scars always had set people on edge when they caught sight of them. At first Ferrian nearly broke down anytime someone saw the, and regarded her as dangerous or with pity. Now she laughed when they noticed, driving away everyone. She didn’t need anyone, wasn’t your classic girly girl who wanted to shop and get weekly pedicures. She barely brushed her waist length black hair much less curled and styled it. Nope she kept it cautiously tied back, hidden inside her hoodie. If God had been so gracious, she would’ve rather had her life ended the last time she pled for death. But gracious he was not. Cursing the image of him, Ferrian knew better, had heard better straight from birth. She was the Devil incarnate and God refused to take pity on her.
Stretching every muscle, the aching in her back had grown worse over the past year, but going in to see a doctor wasn’t happening. Doctors were for rich people. Nope she’d deal even if it made her feel like hell. It would always be constant reminder that she was a freak among the masses; just another reason why she stayed away from people. Her stomach angrily growled demanding food, and all she had in her tiny one bedroom apartment were a few protein bars and some expired milk. “Damn” Food another luxury. Biting back the rumbling in her gut, Ferrian pulled out a protein bar and made her way to the bathroom. Looking around the tiny place, it wasn’t much to see, let alone admire, but it was hers and hers alone. It was quite aside from the neighbors screaming above her nightly. Only the hum of the refrigerator caused any noise during the day, thanks to her refusal to have a phone or even television. Books had been her only true source of enjoyment, even as a child.
As the nightly ritual of yelling commenced, Ferrian threw on her Docs and went for the door. Times like this she relished the thought that she chose to work third shift. The quiet of night when everyone should be sleeping kept her feeling safe.
The bus stop down the street would be her only connection to the world, riding night after night with the ghosts of the city. Staring out of the bus’s smudged window as broken streetlamps flickered with waning electricity, she looked down each dirty alleyway that housed the lost souls that wandered the city in search of survival. She remaindered herself that she too was once one of them. Sleeping in dumpster to stay dry and warm, eating rotting food thrown out by the over-priced restaurants. Her heart sank as she saw a mother with her to small children, huddling against the chilly October wind.
Is this what her life had really amounted too? Working nights and living alone all for the sake of staying safe and unnoticed? Though she hadn’t stayed unnoticed had she? The one friend she had, she tried desperately to push him away. The stigma of her past haunted her like a living ghost. But he refused to leave.
Remi had been the only male she ever allowed to see behind her defenses. He opened her up, slowly, taking his time not to push her. Carefully he peeled back the layers of her life like an onion. It had taken him over a year to breech the walls of her security, but Ferrian grew to trust him. He was gentle and kind. Unlike any male she had ever known. It wasn’t just that he was gentle, but he was genuine. He refused to judge her even when she dropped her hood willingly and exposed what he hid from the rest of the world. The compassion in his eyes didn’t waiver nor did he flinch when he traced the jagged scar with this gaze. It had been the first time Ferrian had allowed anyone to touch her skin. Steely herself from cringing, her eyes flooded with tears as his single gesture broke down the nightmares she wanted to leave behind. It was that night her heart had opened up to him. It was that night he said goodbye to her for the last time.
Her heart sank deeper as she remembered his final words before he walked away. “I will always be with you. I will always be watching you, even if you can’t see me. There’s more to my feelings than should be, so now I must leave.” Gently he caressed her lips, trembling against his, Remi held her close. His thick arms embraced her, his warmth seeped down into her bones. “I will miss you until I see you again.” He murmured.
“Why must you go?” her voice shook as did her heart. He had sliced through her walls and breached her heart. The effects of his words as he chose to leave stung her like a thousand scorpions at once.
“Because I can’t stay, I’ve been here for too long as is. I’m sorry mo Aingeal” Cocking her head at him, she had heard him say that before, and for some reason it registered in the back of her memories. Something she once was called by a woman she would never have the chance to know. “Why do you call me that?” fingering away her crystal traitors, her forest green eyes could barely meet his ice blue gaze. “You’ve called me that before. What does it mean?”
“I hope to tell you someday.” Pressing one final kiss to her supple lips, Remi embraced her tighter to let his love radiated through her. “Do you feel that? My heart? It beats for you. Always.” Then he turned away and left her standing on the pier. His body dissolved into the thick fog as Ferrian raced after him.
It had been two months since that last encounter and each day grew more difficult to hang on to the scent of him, to the feeling of him cradling her in his thick arms. Every once in a while she swore she saw him, lingering around the shadows, or reflecting his beautiful image in the mirror. God she missed him. He made this life tolerable and now he was gone. The sinking feeling that consumed her for years started to envelope her all over again. He wasn’t coming back, no matter how hard she begged and prayed, he wasn’t going to return to her. He abandoned her, nothing new. But this time the sting of it was too much to bear.
Her fingers idly brushed over the last place his kiss had touched. Tingles of his warmth danced across the tips. The taste of his lips intoxicated her with rich heated desire. Something she hadn’t experienced before. But the empty feeling lingered, capturing her in its dark void. She grew comfortable with the void again, didn’t like but it was her security blanket. “Mo Aingeal, I’ll always be watching you.” His voice was but a whisper in her head, though she could’ve sworn he whispered it in her ear; spinning around in hopes of seeing him sitting there, with his devilishly impish grin smiling at her. Nothing. Just a whisper that wasn’t real haunting her. It wasn’t just his voice that stalked her, no; he stretched out in her mind when her dreams fought off the memories.
Shaking the last dream of him from her head now wasn’t the time to fall back into that daydreaming rut, where her inner desire ruled her subconscious, but reality shot her down. Looking over the sparse streets of Chicago’s edges, she understood why anyone would run on broken shards of glass to get away from here. The eerie vacant buildings housing more than rats, the gritty dirty streets seeded with thugs and street walkers. Everyone just trying to make a buck, even the addicts had a hand out. No one in their right mind would live on that side of town. During the day it was a variable ghost town, with an odd assortment of religious do-gooders pleading with the sinners to repent and come back to Jesus. Still the nearly empty streets comforted her. The few neighbors left in her building left her alone. In truth she didn’t even know if anyone of them knew she existed. That was fine with her. She didn’t need the safety of high rise penthouses where you’re doorman knew all your dirty little secrets. Too many people on the east side in their overcrowded brownstones and upscale remodeled firehouses. More stories scattered the media of the rise of crime in the safe front of the city. It wasn’t for her. She was safe where less people inhabited.

Always Mine:::Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The lean muscles of Iain’s bruised body cut through the fading marks, slowly returning to his perfectly sun-kissed skin color. The bedroom’s curtain hung wide open as she watched him dress in his casual clothes. Even the soft fabric of his black cashmere sweater and jeans couldn’t hide the sinful contours of his frame.
Drea sank back on her hunches as she waited patiently for him to finish his routine. Cautiously she moved in closer. It had been nearly two weeks since the Sisterhood had rescued him from the dirt pit hell-hole Roland’s minions had tossed him in. She had dedicated every night since the rescue op to protecting him. Running security perimeters around his estate and installing surveillance cameras in and around the residence. So why was she sitting outside hiding among the pristinely cut hedges in her black-panther form? Because she could and didn’t that just make her feel like a stalker.
Dawn had broken free of darkness’s loving embrace, and she could only assume, Councilman Tresva was gathering his needed possessions before he left for the Magistrates Manor. After everything he still continued on with his day to day tasks like nothing had happened.
Her heart broke as she watched him search for something that was obviously hidden from him. His eyes had started to heal thanks to Reese’s gift, but it wasn’t an overnight type of fix. It could be months before he had full use of those warm chocolate brown eyes. He started to unwind the bandages that clung meticulously cross them, carefully revealing the dark circles and slight swelling. Wincing against the intrusion of light he covered them with his dark sunglasses.
She tried to keep her distance, but longed to be in there, next to him. Helping him dress, running her fingers over the taut muscles of his abdomen as she slowly slid the hem of his sweater down. But it was distance that kept her safe.
Cautiously she crept up to the window beneath the terrace listening to his faint footfalls as he descended the winding staircase. Changing back to her normal form, she stepped up on the moss covered stones to gain a better view. Drea knew she should walk away but no male had ever captivated her before. It was wrong on so many levels and still she couldn’t force herself to shimmin back to the compound.
Peeking over the ledge, she begged the golden rays of sunlight to dance across his face. Carefully he moved around the room, grazing tables and chairs as he shifted from room to room.
Stepping another stone higher, Drea knew it was risky, but what the hell, every move she made was risky. Even now she scolded herself for staying so long, for even coming to his residence night after night like a half-crazed lust-fueled teenager. What the hell was she doing? It would be just as easy to watch him from Alix’s security room on any one of the monitors. Still she just needed to know he was alright. That sense of security was like a warm blanket. Just to know that no one dared to tread on the estate comforted her, keeping him safe was her self-inflicted priority.
She couldn’t explain it, she tried to but couldn’t. There were no logical reasons why she was compelled to watch after him night after lonely night. What did she stand to gain? Let alone think could happen. No. She knew better. Men like Iain Tresva given his estate and his meticulous man grooming routine, she knew he sought out perfection. That was the one thing she wasn’t or ever could be.
Her mind shuttered at the memories of the past. Squeezing her eyes tight to shut out the images Drea refused to let the past dictate the present. Slipping from the wet stone, her body hit the ground with a heavy thud, knocking the breath from her lungs and bouncing her head off the cobblestone with a hard crack.
The rattling of glass doors and noticeable sound of metal tapping the panes startled her back into reality. “Shit” she cursed. But it was too late. Before she could unhook her twisted ankle and shimmin away he appeared before her, Sig Sauer bared and ready for use. “Who’s there!” he growled and didn’t the delicious sound of his voice just send shock waves through her body. Drea made quick work of her ankle, slinking back in grass as he stumbled forward. Fear creased hard lines in his face as he leveled the muzzle of his gun in her direction. “I know you’re there. Answer me! Who the hell are you? What do you want?”
She couldn’t answer. A lump the size of a Yugo caught was in her throat. Stiffening as she watched him sniff the air. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears. “I know you. You were there when the Sisters found me. I remember you. What are you doing here?” He hands shook as he waited for an answer. None would come. She couldn’t wait any longer, shimmin back to the compound was the only sure way Iain Tresva wouldn’t find out who she was. It was bad enough he caught her stalking around his home. No she had to go. Disappearing into the vast elements, his voice carried like a soft breeze caressing her cheeks. “Thank you.”
The sinful way his words twisted her seared concern in her internal warning system, landing just outside the compound, Drea needed to clear her head before joining her Sisters once again.
She barely knew him, but he consumed her every thought. Her body begged to touch him, until she caught sight of her reflection in the pools of water. “Who the hell am I kidding?” she cursed herself, hiding behind layers of clothes. Hiding the marks left behind by other’s perception of love. Clutching her leather band wrapped wrists, the wounds still felt fresh. “I’m a monster. What the hell am I doing?” chiding herself, Drea walked aimlessly into the forest surrounding the compound. Facing her Sisters was the last thing she could handle. Self-loathing was overwhelming, settling deep in its comfy spot right at the center of her core.
The relentless battle of why’s and what if’s warred with reality. The best she could hope for was the love she envisioned in her mind as she lay awake thinking of him. There she was beautiful and unscathed. There the hauntings of her past dissolve away and removed every single scar that riddled her mind and body. There he loved her too with pureness.
She couldn’t understand why he affected her so. Sure he was gorgeous, and seemed genuinely sweet the few times they had met. She had seen his courage even when he had been beaten within an inch of his life. He still fought. But driven to the point of stalking him in the name of protection was even a bit much to her. Realizing that it was doing neither of them ay good Drea swore to herself not to return to Iain Tresva’s estate. She would silently protect him from the security room of the compound, even if he was a fever in her veins that needed to be cooled. Saving her from self-torment and disappointment. Nope, he was an addiction she needed to break. And today was the day she would quit cold turkey. Goddess save her.


Iain stumbled around the room in search of clothes. Losing his eye sight had proven more difficult to manage then he thought. Though the bruises and marks were healing on his body, his eyes hadn’t changed much. Light barely entered them when he removed his bandages.
His nightmares were a different story all together. Every night since his rescue had been the same. Remembering with vivid clarity every detail of his capture and torture, it sent escalating shivers down his spine until his body shook like an earthquake. Sleep was becoming a luxury and coffee his best friend. The only saving grace he had was the hazy memory of amethyst eyes before his sight dissolved into utter blackness. The smell of magnolias assailed him while her warm embrace encircled him, his cheek brushed across her leather wrapped bosom. Her sweet breath with every word she spoke sparked a desire he couldn’t refuse. She was kind and gentle as she held him in the warmth of her arms. Reassuring him that he was safe and he could rest.
His mind shut down as his body forced itself into recovery. Briefly waking to feel the same warmth of soft hands and that sweet smell of magnolias surrounding him, the comfort was more than genuine. The devotion in her touch and in kindness in her words assailed him. Yet he had no idea who she was. She hadn’t spoken her name, but her voice so beautifully lithe resonated deep in his mind. She was a ghost haunting him from the past.
Reaching for his Ray-Bans, Iain stepped past his dresser and searched out the doorway. Something felt different. That feeling of being watched should’ve set off his internal warning system, but it comforted him instead. He had felt those eyes on him for days and couldn’t understand the why’s of it.
The soft thuds of his Aldo’s smacking against the cherry wood steps echoed throughout the house as he descended the stairs. He really wasn’t in a hurry to return back to the Magistrate’s Manor. Work had been almost unbearable since his return with constant questions and speculations. Secretly he begged for a distraction from the mundane details of his life.
Everyday before and since his capture had been much the same. Empty and hollow. Work had become his wife and family. Something he regretted dearly. And then the image of those stunning eyes hit him again. Hard. If only he could remember where he had seen them before, like an itch in his brain he knew he had seen them. But where? Scolding himself for forgetting, how could he have forgotten those eyes?
The sound of a hard thud startled him outside. Reflexively he pulled his Sig Sauer from his back holster and slid the lock free. Carefully he edged around the room, cautiously slipping the lock free from the French door, opening it. The cool autumn air rushed him with that scent. Magnolias. “Who’s there!” He ground out. Swiveling the gun side to side, he wouldn’t go down without a fight if the Sellerphase had returned to finish the job. He knew he had a huge bulls-eye plastered on his back.
Fear rankled. But the fear of not seeing who was there scared him to his core. Then the smell and hushed startled breath caught him. Leveling his gun in the direction of the pounding heartbeat, his own tripping in time he growled, demanding an answer. “I know you’re there. Answer me! Who the hell are you? What do you want?” Alarm grew with each passing silent second.
He was impatient, he needed to know. If it were the Sellerphase he preferred to start unloading his 9mm now, on the off chance that is was her, he wanted to pull her close and thank her profusely for all she had done. The latter being his choice. Sniffing the air that sweet smell filled the surrounding space, settling deep in his memory, but why wasn’t she responding? “I know you. You were there when the Sisters found me. I remember you. What are you doing here?”
Her startled gasp spoke volumes as he listened to her struggle to move, lowering his gun he stepped closer to the edge in hopes she would say just one word. The subtle sound of her shimmin away bothered him. “Thank you” he called after her hoping she had heard it. ‘Please come back.’ Iain silently pled.
“Damn!” kicking the lock back into place, he slid his trusty sidekick back into his holster and went inside to lock up. He had business to attend to, and research to do on his silent Tprofre. Desire to pursue her, to hold her and roll her beneath him lick up his veins, she had done more than just rescue him from the hellhole pits of his confinement. She had triggered something deep inside him. Something primal. Something he thought was lost or worse never existed. “I have to know” he murmured to himself.

Eternally Mine:::Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sasha heard the soft rumblings of sheets shifting as she entered the room. Her hands full, carrying a tray full of varies foods. Soft beams of sunlight peeked at the edges of the thick black and gold damask curtains shutting out the world with there bulky masking. The cherry wood floor covered by matching Persian rugs that lead to the king size four-poster mahogany bed. Intricately carved in swirls and hidden messages.
Concealed in the corner of the room Loren slept curled in a ball on a matching black and gold damask chaise lounge. Her hands still held the pages of her latest book that she intended on reading. Soft murmurs slipped from her pink lips as she twisted into herself. Gently she slid her fingers up to her throat, caressing it with a lover’s touch.
Eric’s six foot four frame slumped on his side as he started to wake, his hands searched for a familiar feeling of skin. Scrubbing his bristled face with both hands, pain stung his gun-metal gray eyes as he tried to open them. Fluttering against the intrusion the soft beams of sunlight that surrounded the edges of the curtains and sills; momentarily blinding him. His voice sounded as though he gargled with gravel as he tried to speak. “Jesus! What the hell happened to me?”
Crossing the room in a few graceful motions, Sasha leaned down to place the tray of food next to him on the nightstand. “You’ve been out of it for nearly a week, Eric. Waking only briefly here and there, what did you expect? To be able to do back hand springs off the bed?” she scoffed. Her beautiful rainbow irises shimmered even in the dim light, as her soft platinum curls bounced around her head like a halo. His parched smile grimaced while the latest of his bruises still healed.
“Really Eric.” Sensing his frustration at the lingering pain in his body she motioned him to lie back down. “You should take it easy. Reese did an absolutely brilliant job repairing the damage, but being human you still need time to recover.” Considering that momentarily he pried his eyes open to look around his surroundings. The blurriness slowly transformed into hazy clouds after winter storm.
Little by little everything came back into focus when he saw what looked like a lump of blackness and fire in the corner. “Loren?” the words came out sounding strangled as he pushed himself to focus more. His mind couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. Craning his head back to Sasha, his dumbfounded expression brought her attention to stand still. Gray eyes locked on to the sleeping figure with pleasant surprise.
“Eric, she hasn’t left your side since we brought you back here?” His ragged breath caught as she answered the silent question left lingering in the air. “You’re at Alix’s home. She has everyone setting up security perimeters around the grounds.”
Turning back to look at the little red headed vixen who slept peacefully in the corner, Eric couldn’t understand how this had all come about. Listening to her murmur in her sleep he could’ve sworn he heard her say his name. But why would she? He represented everything she had an aversion to. He was human, ‘a mere human’ as had been said numerous times by the Sisters. The term grated his nerves. He was a man, no matter human or magic-kind, that’s what he was.
As his mind fought to sieve through all that had happened, make sense of his current state, he kept coming back around to one single image. Her, his red headed angel cradling his face in her warm caring palms. Worry creased her face as her breath bathed him in a delicious symphony of sweet mouth-watering smells. Reeling through his mind he searched back farther to understand how he came to be in bed. His thoughts murky as he struggled to make sense of everything he had been through.
Satin sheets covered his skin like a warm second layer, shielding him from prying eyes. His body ached and cocked throbbed as he looked back at his beautiful angel sleeping peacefully in the corner. His strong hands fumbled to right himself as he took in the wondrous sight of her. The curve of her chin and the curl of her supple pink pouty lips begged to be kissed. Her long black lashes that framed her beautiful eyes from the harsh intrusion of light, she was an angel in the flesh if had every seen one. Leather wrapped ivory skin, so soft he could imagine himself embracing it for eternity.
The lingering scent of gasoline and burnt wood stung his senses as he eyed his hands that scrapped his face. He had remembered setting off the gas bomb at Roland’s beach house, running for dear life as he and Alix set hauled ass to seek refuge from the bomb. His body reacted to his memory with fierce reverence.
Remembering the way he was hurled into the air, shards of timber and glass slicing and piercing through his skin. He could’ve sworn he’d been plowed down by a Mack truck and minced with a grater for all the good it did him to run like hell. His mind fought to stay conscious as he slid down in to waiting hands, carrying his limp listless body away from the smell of burning wood and toxic gas fumes.
Then everything went black. He felt his life slip away, free falling down into darkness. The weight of his body floated softly like a feather carried by a summer breeze. Eric descended deeper into the dark abyss of his mind. In the distance a soft angelic voice called to him, begging him to stay. Terror and longing traipsed around her words as she pled for him to return to her. She was a siren calling her lover from afar with all the sultry silkiness her voice could carry.
When he had finally thought he had completely lost it, his eyes finally managed to peel open for the briefest of moments, only to witness the resplendent face of his red headed angel. Her full pouty lips calling his name sent shivers down his bruised spine. His hands sought her out, needing to touch the supple skin of his angel. Gently brushing her cheeks, he slid his hands around her head, cupping her with care. The soft longing in her piercing blue eyes sang to him as he crushed her soft parted lips against his fiercely before the blackness consumed him once again. The feel of her wet lips, the taste of peaches and cream filled him as he drank in her intoxicating sweet scent.
As he glanced back over, he couldn’t help the impish smile that formed at the sight of her. His angel was the little vixen that slept curled up in the corner across his room. Her sweet honey scent danced in the air for him to inhale her once again. All sense of brutality from her eager self dissipated in to thin air. Her small body balled into a warm self embrace, a small book pasted to her by her sturdy grasp. She was a beautiful angel. One he needed to possess. Consume. Devour.
Sasha read the uncertainty on his face as she brushed her warm supple hand down his arm. Her slender fingers lingered on the searing supple skin of his forearm. He radiated heat like a furnace in Hades. The sincerity in her touch felt foreign, wincing as she stroked his skin. Her voice was but a whisper as she spoke to him, barely breaking his attention away as he watched Loren sleep.
“She’s been in here twenty-four-seven since you returned here hurt. She hasn’t left your side for anything.” Cocking her defined platinum brow to him, his eyes didn’t sway. Fixated on the little vixen who stole his heart that very moment, she was as sweet and caring as she was ferocious. He knew she was cunning and tenacious but this side of her worried and concerned for him piqued a new interest.
He thought back to when she straddled him as she unlocked the bindings that held him in place during Alix’s interrogation. The sensual feel of her hot body pressing against his cock, and the rich smell of her forced his body to react against his will. Wishing that she had left the bonds on and stripped him bare; mounting him again to ride him raw. Her breast heaving as she slid up and down the length of him, breath panting at her called out his name. Lost in that thought, he barely heard what Sasha was saying, his mind consumed with images of Loren rattled around as he tried to focus on Sasha’s melodic voice. Even when Sasha tapped his arm he still couldn’t concentrate on her words. His mind raced back over his dreams as his cock strained at the memory. Loren starred in every single one of them; maybe she had the Florence Martingale effect on him, but the feel of her body against his left his hands searching for more of her skin to caress.
Long nights awakening, convulsing with need, covered in reminisce of his Vixen’s evil game; sating herself on his weakness, and even more on his lack of control. Tickling his ears with her cries and moans of pleasure as she climbed higher, riding high upon his body, rocking her core back and forth, the sweet smoldering warmth her body provided sheathing his throbbing cock deep inside her as his Vixen peaked and recovered, riving and aching for more. His limbs paralyzed by unseen force, weighted and tethered by invisible bonds. Her sultry smirk and dazzling gaze wreaked havoc on his desires, fighting to touch just one single spot on her body. While she lapped up and rode him back into rapture. Not a single sweep of his hand would cross her skin, or a gentle caress of her breasts. Lowering her on his chest as she pulled his cock free, spent and aching for more as he hardened under her touch again.
The tangles of her fiery hair fell lusciously over his rigid chest as she sank between his thick muscled thighs. Her soft lips form delicate O as she lavished the length of his cock, licking the single glistening drop that clung to his tip. Stroking the length of his strong throbbing shaft, her fingers pulsed and played with the tightening sac that jumped at the softest touch of the fleshy pads of her fingers. His throaty moans caught like a lump as breath threaten to breach the constriction of his resolve as his body climbed higher to peak. Loren’s hypnotic stare and sensual lips knocked him down again as she pulled harder, greedily suckling him. The warm suction and scintillating friction wreaked havoc on his self-control as she licked the shaft, lapping her desires up and down his aching cock. Pleading for release. She controlled every motion, every movement with elegant care, twisting and kissing. Closer he climbed to peak, his muscles fought to move, wanting to rip free his massive arms and swaddle her in them, wrap his hands around the fragile bones of her wrists and roll her sinuous body voraciously beneath him. Desperately wanting his control back, wanting to feel the power of his body devour her. Unforgiving. Overwhelmingly. Uncontrollably.
Sweat dewed across his stony chest, rigid and free from mercy as he braced himself against her impending onslaught she planned on bringing rapaciously to the surface. His control smashed into infinity as his hot seed shot from his tight body, flexing every unmoving muscle, tension strained from every ligament and tendon as she sucked every last drop from his firm pulsing cock. Firing off stars like Fourth of July had played out with his body; visions of blistering brilliant lights clouded his eyes as he forced himself to resume breathing.
Wiping away reminisce of his liquid desires, she perched herself upon her knees to gaze into sated eyes. Exquisitely flushed, panting, beautiful, slowly she climbed back up his relaxed body, pecking sweet sin-filled kisses along the way. Dipping between the chiseled muscle of his abdomen and pecs and over his taut creamy skin, tasting his intoxicating mint with every sweep of her tongue. Her blue eyes mere inches from his as she whispered, “Good morning, Sunshine!” a deliciously evil smirk taunted him as she dissolved into the early morning mists of sunrays, releasing him of his invisible bonds.
As Loren started to stir, Eric slightly glanced back at Sasha acknowledging her annoyance. “How long did you say I have been out for?” the deep rasp of his words sizzled the air stirring Loren to wake more, her small smile peeked out from her sleepy face, only to fall back into a still composure as her head slowly lowered back down upon her arm.
Sasha searched his face for any signs of distress, but come on, the guy had been nearly blown up. Dismissing his short attention span she cupped his wrist to feel his pulse.
“Hmmmm….. Must be the head trauma” eyeing him suspiciously. “For the better part of a week. You came to a couple of times, but sustained some pretty serious internal damage and one mean concussion. I would take it easy if I were. Concussions can be a tricky thing for a…uh well I mean for anyone.” Looking away, Sasha worried she had offended him. His bewildered eyes spoke a different language all together.
“But why? Why did she stay here….with me?” His mind was still thick from sleep as he tried to rasp out anything sounding coherent.
Sasha flashed her brilliant reassuring smile to ease his worries warming the atmosphere. “I think she kinda likes you.” Winking back at him, his hard set eyes slightly falter from there normally harsh glare. His taut squared jaw relaxed as he considered that for a moment.
“But she’ll never admit that. And you should know Eric, it will never work.” Stepping back to give him room to think, Sasha motioned to the food, encouraging him to eat. “Please eat. You need your strength. You’re looking a bit ragged still.”
Staring at the tray of food he, couldn’t decide whether he wanted to devour every morsel as his stomach rumbled begging to be filled or slam tray against the wall for his lack of control. Having been unconscious for days and seeing the smug smile on Sasha’s siren face when she said ‘it’ll never work’ irritated the hell of him and he had no idea why the thought bothered him so much. Playing the patient instead of delivering justice infuriated him. His stomach had other ideas, growling louder as leaned over to pull the tray closer. The dainty fork felt too fragile in his big hands as he scooped up the first bite of apple pie, shoveling it in his parched dry mouth. Scooping up the bottle of water to wash down the pie with, Sasha had to step back as she watched his throat work as he drank the water down. Biting her lip as the muscles danced with each swallow, teasing her, begging to be sucked on.
Turning back to the plate of food he followed the first bite of pie by another. He couldn’t even delight in the tastes as he devoured more fruits and cheeses. Making quick work of what was left, his stomach’s growls had simmered, but his hunger was fierce. Realizing it wasn’t the food he wanted anymore. It was the fiery head, curled up like a minx sitting just feet away.
A soft moan broke the silence and instantly he felt the need to protect her while she slept, to curl her tiny body against his as he draped his thick arms over her; daring anyone stupid enough to test his boundaries. Craning his head to the angelic form curled up, he desperately fought that urge to climb over the bed, pick her up and do just that. “Don’t be absurd.” He snapped. “I know you’re a horny bastard, but seriously, she’ll kick your ass, man.” His big head definitely had a way of putting things into perspective when his not-so-little head decided to put in its two cents.
Sasha knew Loren’s habit of talking in her sleep. After hundreds of years, she’d heard full conversations that Loren had had with mysterious beings in her slumber. “She’s not so quiet when she’s engaged in her dreamscape. If you’d prefer it, I’d happily wake her, so you can rest more.”
Waving off her suggestion, Eric found something fascinating about the little vixen; hard ass by day, sweet innocent creature by night. Cocking his head to listen more, he took little notice as Sasha quietly left the room. The soft thud of the wooden door closing them in together eased him. Rolling to his side, the black satin sheets shifted from his chiseled chest to his rigid hips. His golden skin pulled taut across his six-pack abs hugging his supple body for dear life.
He was hypnotized by the rising and falling of her breasts with every breath. Her full pink lips murmured little words here and there. Attempting to decipher her codes, he played along, listening to every whispered syllable. He wondered what she was dreaming of or whom she spoke to. Her soft pouty lips lifted into a sultry smirk as she whispered one more single word. “Eric” The soft carry of her voice lingered in his ears, shocked that she was dreaming of him. Him. She was dreaming of him, she was actually dreaming of him. Eric felt the rush of his blood searing through his body, his cock stiffened more as her lips closed around his name. Fire shot through his veins blazing with need to devour her. His gun-metal gray eyes grew wide as he became more beguiled by her.
Loren’s fiery red ringlets framed her gentle features as they fell down caressing her shoulders and arms. “Mine” His mind bit out an animalistic growl. Surprised he felt the need to consume every inch of her supple skin; and the feeling had multiplied and intensified as she spoke his name. His cock raged with need to fill her completely, marking her with his kiss until his tongue twisted from lavishing her from head to toe. His eyes fixated on her like a target that he needed to aim perfectly for.
“Eric….” She moaned again. The word came so softly he thought it was carried on a summer breeze. His heart thudded as he tried to replay what he hoped he had just heard. She spoke his name again! His mind raced to keep up with his heart. ‘Can’t be. She hates my fucking guts.’
“No…...it can’t happen.” Her mumbles left him amused as he tried to figure out what else she was seeing in her dreams. Licking his lips to a glossy sheen, his body fought with his desire to slip in between her milky thighs and wrap her legs over his shoulders as he flicked her clit and sliced the folds of her essence with his tongue; watching her face twist in sweet agony until she awoken.
The aching in his stomach grew and it wasn’t just from lack of food. It was from lack of her. She was the fuel he needed to survive, the fire in his belly. She was everything he never knew he always wanted. She was a need he had to have. A desire he needed to consume. An ache he demanded to soothe. His little vixen was just that, his.

The rumbling taunts of Eric’s stomach grew louder as it begged for more food, awakening Loren. Her sleepy eyes, fluttered open as she stretched from her curled position. Her arms rose over her head, arching her back as she stretched out. Her plump breasts loved to show how tight her nipples were as they pierced through her black leather bodice. Time seemed to stand still as the silence of the room consumed her. Leaning back for another long moment, she scrubbed slender hands over her face unsure why she had woken.
The rumbling came again and she jerked her head in Eric’s direction. His smoldering smile begged to be kissed, as his eyes locked onto hers. Shivers ran down her spine as the energy between them sizzled in the air. Her breath caught as the sight of his naked body, barely covered by the sheet that shimmered from the sparse rays of sunlight. For a moment Loren had almost forgotten how he ended up naked and wrapped in those layers of luxuriant fabric. Slicing off the blood and debris covered remains of his clothes, Loren tossed them to Gabrielle. Thankful she had been kind to bag them and promptly burn them.
As he laid there staring back at Loren, her eyes flinted over the length of his body with quick glances, eyeing the small dusting of dark brown hair that graze his lower abs, leaving a trail to follow lower. Her eyes wanted to follow the tail down, but damn it, if that stupid sheet make that task impossible! Her eyes shot up to catch his again, as she nervously bit into her full lip. “Um, uh how are you feeling?” She didn’t really care, but figured it was the polite thing to ask. Seeming as he nearly got himself killed during the raid on Roland Lemire’s Beach house only days earlier. What she really wanted to know is if he had any injured muscles she could massage for him, any in particular that would benefit them both. Her mind fixated on what was hiding beneath the black satin sheets. How his hands would feel holding her naked skin next to his. Feeling his thick long shaft thrust her to the brink of insanity, then further.
Clearing his throat, Eric repositioned the sheet a little higher, twisting his harden cock out of sight. The pitched tent look was so unattractive in his mind. “Well aside from starving, remarkably well. Huh, Thought I had blown myself up.” He scoffed Eric’s voice still gruff as he tried to soften his tone. His eyes refused to deviate from hers. Her lips curled up in to a saucy smirk as she considered telling him he was just about right in the ‘blown myself up’ part.
“Well you kinda did. Only a fucking moron would use gasoline and a lighter to make a bomb. Seriously what were you guys thinking? Two top assassins and neither of you could come up with a better solution?” the chiming of her laugh lightened the mood, softening her intense gaze. Loren saw Eric tense up from her realization. True to her fashion, Loren loved her snarky sarcasm as it seemed to serve her best. “I should be ashamed of Alix for being so uncreative. But you, well I guess you are just a human after all.”
Gracefully Loren rose to her feet in a lithe movement, his eyes stayed absorbed on her face. Wondering what it would be like to lay next to her, looking into her sated eyes and fiery smile as she came down from her climax. Sagging onto his body, her fiery red hair splayed out across his chest.
Loren felt his heated stare consume her body as she stepped away from the bed. The smell of dark spice wafted through the air as his muscles coiled beneath the cloth. Biting her lip she curled a wavy tendril of hair behind her ear, sidling away from the edge of the bed. One quick turn of her body and she’d fall right into his lap. The thought had its enticing appeal to it as she braved another glance at his soldier standing at attention under those sheets.
His body tensed and flex reactively to her movements. The sinuous way she swayed her hips, tempting him to pounce. His body loved the idea as much as his mind did, silently begging for a preview. The hard cock grew into a steel beam, demanding to be touched by something other than his rough hand.
Loren played her coolness, cocking a thin red brow at him when she took noticed of his rigid muscles. Trying to hide his intentions seemed to fail as his cock was ready to spring for her delight. Catching the hitch of her breath before it broke into the awkward silence that stained the air. “I must go now and inform the Sisterhood you’re all right.” A soft crimson blush rushed to her cheeks as she tried to pry her eyes from his. Failing miserably. Crossing the room, her bright blue eyes changed into heated pools of creamy lust aching to peek further down his body once again. “I see Sasha brought you some food. You should eat up. She’s a hell of a cook.” Smirking back at him, she felt the door for the brass handle, freeing the heavy wooden barrier from its jamb.
“Loren, wait.” He called to her, slowly she pulled herself back in from the hallway, and she was only a step away from closing the door. Leaning against the jamb, her stomach turned waiting for his next words. A faint blush caressed her cheeks as she tried to look away. “Yeah.” The soft rasp of her voice shot another wave of heated lust straight to his wanting cock. Another throbbing ache coursed through him as he wished she would return to him within arms-length so he could pull her down and roll her beneath him so he ravaged her from head to toe. The momentary thought alone brought out a charming smile that seemed out of place. A brilliant flush seared across his shimmering skin. The thin sheen of sweat broke free from his chest, accentuating his chiseled muscles. “Why did you stay here? Sasha said you’ve been here since we returned from Roland’s. I don’t get it.”
“What’s there to get. Alix asked me to watch over you. And I have. So now I must go. Later.” His mouth silently begged her to stay. His control told her to leave. She was a distraction he didn’t need and yet secretly wanted. He nodded as she shut the door behind her, but he couldn’t let her just walk out. He felt tethered to her; the pull was too intense for him to understand. Springing from the bed he landed just in front of the door. His hand cupped the knob ready to turn and free him, but why? Stopping to reason with himself, he faced the hard truth. His cocked ached begging to bury itself deep within her, her smile fueled the fire in his gut, but none of it made sense. He couldn’t face her without the answers to his questions. Leaning his head against the door, he let his hand fall from the brass knob as he tried to corral his libido with a quick jerk of his chain. Palming his searing length, he cursed himself as the need to shoot his seed into her consumed him completely. Stroking him faster, harder with furious need; his sac tightened with the impending climax as sweat beads trickled down his back. Pumping his throbbing cock as he grew closer, the strain in his body screamed for release. Thump… the sound caught him off guard, until he heard her voice, soft as a whisper call his name. Looking down at the pulsing rod of meat his hand gripped, all need to get off disgusted him. Dropping the length of him, he flipped around, propping himself back against the door. What the hell would she think of she knew, he was on the other side of the door, envisioning her supple thighs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her hard, pinning her to the wall. ‘Fucking pathetic!’ is what she’d think of it. The ache in his sac didn’t leave even as his cock slowly softened. “No way am I going to be this pathetic. Jacking off to a chick standing on the opposite side of a door, fucking sad.” He chided himself. Sliding down, his body bunched and coiled, needing its fix for release. As the cold marble came up on his naked ass, the feeling stung him, wishing he could feel the heat of her body swaddle him instead. “Right. Never gonna happen.” He reassured himself.

Ever Mine:::Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The burn of his needing kiss still lingered on her heated skin, as she feathered her fingertips over the subtle marks he left behind on her delicate neck. Staring out the window of the plane, the whirling of the jet engines seemed to fade as she watched the last of the sun’s brilliant rays settle into the horizon. Leaving behind subtle hues of burnt oranges and deep-set mauves, Alix kissed the day goodbye, and waited for the moment the midnight sun made its nightly appearance. The flight from Phoenix was packed and the din of voices disappeared as she sank deeper into the delicious memories of her last encounter with Damian.
She hadn't been one for the pursuit of trivial thoughts, yet at that moment she did everything she could to keep herself seated, while her thoughts ran amuck with delicious ideas for her next encounter with him.
The scent of him, so strong, and musky reminding her of delicious dark spices, still wafted faintly from her pale pink shirt. Her skin still stained with the memory of his touch. Her lips still quivered from the last gentle caress of his fingers. "Ever mine, my love." was all but a sweet whisper in her ear. His words filled her heart so completely that leaving was always agony. Alix kept her mind locked down tight making her a virtual prisoner of her own thoughts. The constant question of why he loved with her, knowing what she was and what she did, seem to grow as of late. Each time she kissed him goodbye, was like one more slap in the face as she chose her job over him.
Shaking the thoughts out of her mind her fingers danced over the mark on her neck once again, imagining the feel of his lips brushing against her heated skin. Caressing her as he settled in to take her vein deeper, succumbing to the exchange. Exchanging energies as only magic-kind did, keeping them connected to their mates. The memory so vivid it sent shivers rattling through her entire body. She was a virtual prisoner of her thoughts when she thought about him.
Hell, it was torture to be away from him. The beautifully cruel memories of his body crushed against hers, the feel of his chiseled chest pressed into hers, as he possessed her with his soul-penetrating stare. Tangled and twisted in the heat of passion. The subtle shifting of her black leather pants caressing against her fair skin reminded her of the feel of his strong hands as they slid gently up her thigh. The sensual way the soft pads of his fingers brushed against her smoldering core until she let out the cry of desire, as she begged for more.
Just this little reminder had her reeling, knowing that her very essence was welling up without her control. Her mind raced with more thoughts as they danced carefully across her impatient mind. Sinking deeper into her seductive visions, her teeth nearly broke the soft skin of her pink lip as she bit down as her hands gripped the arm rests, trying in vain to keep her seated.
Slaking off all sense of what she had done before climbing onto the plane, her only concern now was how fast she could strip Damian’s clothes off. The luscious idea of pinning him to the floor between her sultry thighs had her reeling with heated anticipation.


Twenty-four hours ago, Alix met with her employer, Roland Lemire, working for him, nearly sixty years as a trained assassin. Her role was to aid the Oracle Legacy when they required her special set of skills. The Oracle Legacy was one of the oldest of all the Oranisian covens. Amongst magic-kind, the O.L. ranked as aristocrats of their own accord.
At his penthouse suite on the bay in Chicago Roland stood facing out of the floor to ceiling windows. “It’s on the table.” His gruff voice spoke, as it irritated the air around her. On his desk was a plain manila envelope with her next assignment. "G. R. Hans". Having read of him in many papers over the past six months, Alix knew what she had to do.
“So the Valley of Hades again? Great, just fucking great.” She scoffed, rolling her emerald green eyes. Just want she wanted to do, fly down to Phoenix and make sure Hans’ was ready for his desert nap.
“Is there a problem?” he quirked a smile, eyeing her in the reflection of his window.
“No.” shaking her head, she grabbed the envelope and shimmin back to her home in Tahoe. The less time she spent with Roland, the better.
Sitting down at her desk, Alix read through the documents, giving each page a thorough scan. Hans wasn’t just your typical thug. Drug dealer, sure. Mafia wannabe, definitely, and yet the Magistrate Crime Scene Investigators hadn’t discovered the wealth of underground shit he was apart of. Researching her intended marks, always lead to one inescapable truth, everyone had a weakness. She found each one’s with diligence and exploited that bit of knowledge.
When she made her presence known, more often than not she was standing over their writhing bodies. As their muffled screams of agony begged for death to relieve them, Alix dangled their very life in her hands.
In the few hours she had before she left to her next job, Alix took to her laptop, digging for any more information on Hans. Her intel revealed Hans’ dirty little secret after a few clicks of the mouse and thanks to the wonderful world of URL tracking, hacking into Hans’ personal database was nothing more than child’s play. Even his personal password was a cliché. IAMGOD. “Ego trip much, fucker?” she cursed, glancing over at the clock. Two hours until she needed to leave.
The information she found in his personal files revealed everything from daily counts of smack sold by his dealers to the number of women and their ages that he had sold. The information gnawed at her as she finished scouring his database, keying her up with a severe need to dispense justice.
Using his club as a front, Hans had set up shop as one of the west coast’s leading sex trafficking rings for young women. Selling the young and the beautiful to the highest bidder was something that tickled his cock. Hans loved and took pride in every dollar he made from the sales. He didn’t care who or what kind of torment buyer’s had in store for them. Most often, it was for their own personal depravity. Women used like a dishrags then tossed in the trash, was the kind of shit always made her skin crawl.
To Alix it was her duty, or rather her Calling as Damian had once described her, to rid the world of these types of beings. The ones who thrived off of human misery, killing for the sake of killing never sat well with Alix. The distaste of it burnt her tongue like acid for the mere idea of it. Alix was too refined and accomplished for that kind of amateur display. She had her mission to rid the world of those unworthy of breathing. Clearly, Hans was on that list and as it were, he currently took the top spot thanks to Roland’s “most wanted hit list”.
Though she hated to leave Damian, he understood. This is who she was. She kissed him goodbye, with little fear of her next job. “Job” if that's what you would call it. To Alix, it was beyond a job, beyond a necessary evil, it was the only way she could live.
Alix, well respected in her field for being cunning, brilliant, and amazingly resilient, Alix’s beauty was as sensuous on the outside as her killing skills were deadly. She knew better than anyone did what kind of female she was, ‘a watch your ass kind of woman should you be stupid enough to cross her.’ Damn did she pride herself on that fact.


Hans, was more than your average scumbag. His shaven head and the brown goatee that edged the hard lines of his harsh jaw emphasized the deep lines leading to his beady dark eyes. Eyes that sneered with a condescending gaze that amplified the cruelty that lay beneath the surface. Hans hid his true intentions behind layers of charm to his victims.
His greedy hands fondle each of the young ladies he planned on selling. Priming them for what he knows will be a profitable evening. Hans, kept his hands deep in the thick of his transactions, taking inventory of the young merchandise for what would be their last encounter with the outside world. Selling these women had been a lucrative business for him, making him twice the amount of money than just selling the drugs out of his club. Using his night-club, "The Last Stop" as his front, he did quite well for himself. His body, adorned in the fashions that evoked his wealth-induced front would make any normal person wish to puke up rusty nails. Hans dressed head to toe in black pinstriped Armani, shimmering gold crosses and jewels from his neck, wrists and fingers. He loved to front his ill-gotten wealth to his latest catches of the night. Showering his lady of the moment with Champagne and shining trinkets before discarding them after his personal use. To Hans, women were like tissues, soft and disposable. Just a pleasant waste of time, until they’re used up. Like so many before, when he grew tired his lady they would then be tossed aside for the next pretty little thing. Using a woman for more than one day was unheard of to him.

Reviewing the intel, Alix's vision tweaked into 'The Matter' mode, consuming her as it fired up and controlled her mind and her body. Alix felt her eyes light up into a brilliant display of glowing ominous green flames. Her body and mind becoming hard as steel. She welcomed ‘The Matter’ and all it consumed of her. It was as much a part of her as was breathing. With it, she could alter and influence everything around her. No door would ever be locked for her; no mark could ever hide from her. And now, Hans would get a taste of what she had to offer. To Alix, all that mattered was making a shit-bag like, Hans disappear. Her special brand of justice would be dispensed and the world would be free of one more nightmare.


Walking through the old-fashioned lamp lit streets, the cool autumn chill nipped at her flushed cheeks. Stopping at the corner, glancing across the street to the club, she found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she saw how packed the club was. Magic-kind and humans clamored together as the chill of the autumn air brushed passed their half-naked bodies. Women dressed for sin, hoping to find their dreams on the dance floor and men stood hard against the cool night breezes. A trailing line of bodies crowded down and around the corner of the street, hundreds of unsuspecting people waited, ready to get their electric sex on the dance floor. Civilian human and magic-kind alike pranced about trying to keep themselves warm in their short minis and thin shirts.
"The Last Stop" she said to herself, biting back the urge to spit nails. "How fucking appropriate. This should be quite interesting"
After hacking into Hans’s database, Alix pulled up his security files, every motion sensor and security guard’s routes were carefully memorized. With full knowledge of the inner workings of the security, she scanned the entire building top to bottom. She relied on her abilities to read the layout before making her silent grand entrance. Slipping down the grime-ridden alleyway to the back of the building, Alix knew the easiest way to get in would be to shimmin. The halo of the streetlights could barely illuminate a few feet into the alleyway from the sidewalk. For Alix, the darkness was a convenient way for her to hide shimmin, but to the humans a dark alley gave the classic creepy vibe to everyone. The possibility of danger leered from every hidden shadow, as trash dumpsters provided the awful stench that lingered for days. Alix peered around, looking for any unfortunates that might try to hide themselves from the weather’s unrelenting chill. She waited patiently in the darkness until she was satisfied with the absence of any other presence.
As more humans scurried by the alley’s entrance, Alix found their actions humorous, their childish imaginations running rampant with thoughts of dangerous beings stalking in the shadows. "If they only knew, I'm the one they should fear” a sneer etched across her stone features as she contemplated the thought, readying herself for shimmin.


Hans enjoyed the view from his fifth floor office as he sank back into his chair. The leather creaked against the force of his body. Looking down at the scum that clamored to enter into his establishment of debauchery, patiently he waited, watching for that one special lady of the moment to enter his realm. His eyes scanned the hordes of possible merchandise.
Peering out the window, watching as the latest swell of club dwellers enter, Hans knew full well that coercing one or even four of those unsuspecting females would be easier than coaxing a kitten. With the promise of unforgettable sex, money, and jewels, they were easy targets. “Stupid little girls” he spoke insidiously, as the idea of their possible fair market worth rolled around in his greedy mind.
His smug grin full of menace turned his face into something even a blind man would find disturbing. Little did he know that it would be the last voluntary expression of his final moments. Without so much as a swish of a breeze, Alix was standing behind the man, one hand with her eight inch serrated bowie knife at the his throat, and a syringe full of tranquilizer in her other hand.
"Slowly face me." She whispered in her sexiest, raspy alto voice. No man alive could fight that sweet sound. As he turned towards her, Alix smiled a half-crooked smile, "I think someone has been a naughty shit-bag. Selling innocent girls and dust to line your pockets....Tsk Tsk. Didn't anyone ever tell you crack kills?"
His eyes filled with anger and awe as he drank in the sight of her. His lips silently pleading as she hushed him quiet. ‘Lethal and lovely’ he thought as she slid the edge of her blade over his cleanly shaven throat, taunting him as she readied him for his unwelcome sleep. Her eyes never wavered, staring straight into the flat blackness he called eyes, watching him pleading and begging without words for mercy. Fucking mercy, something he's never shown a single person before. Slowly sliding the needle into the side of his throat, pushing the plunger, “See I'm not all mean, take a nap for me." She taunted, letting out a sultry laugh, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, within moments as his body started to sag under its own weight. Alix let the asshole drop like a sack of potatoes, pleased with herself, clapping her hands free of his stink.
‘Excellent’ she thought. ‘Ah the perks of my job.’ Glancing behind her, Alix used her mind to will the door to lock on itself. The metal click softly reverberated across the room. Alix turned her gaze back to Hans, "Plenty of time for you and me to have some real fun." A sly smile crossed her face, as she stared down at the lowlife piece, of shit, flesh dealer. Fuckers like this made her ‘job’ worthwhile and Hans in particular she would enjoy dispatching.
Her eyes were full of the green flames as ‘the Matter’ assailed her; steering her course for that moment. ‘The Matter’, was her most trusted ally in the fight to conquer injustice. And he didn’t stand a hookers chance in hell of surviving this.
Standing over G.R. Hans's body as he lay tethered across his massive mahogany carved desk Alix did what all trained assassins did well, wait. Patience was a virtue she had in spades. Though she was itching for something else. Someone else. And tonight that craving only grew.
Patiently she waited for Hans to wake up to his new reality. She had Waited for that single moment when the sonofabitch would be alone. Now she waited for the sun to make its grand entrance for the coming day. Patiently waiting for this asshole to wake up….Fuck patience.
Alix shot him up with a enough adrenaline to make an elephant do back flips. “Wakey wakey.” She taunted, her smile beamed as she caressed his cheek with the tip of her ivory dagger. “I only thought it fair that you see for yourself what you’ve done and profited from.”
“Fuck you bitch! Guards!” he screamed, thrashing against his binds. “Releasing me now!”
“Sorry, I gave you’re staff the night off.” Her wry laugh set his anger on fire. “They figured you were a little bit busy” She loved this game, ‘take all control away from the bad man’; walking her fingers up his chest to his jawline Hans gnashed his teeth together, seething and writhing against his binds.
“Oh no no no. We aren’t through here.” She taunted so more.
“Get the fuck off me!”
“As you wish. The stench of your life is distasteful to say the least."
With the first brilliant yellow rays peering through the boisterous drapes, Hans slowly became aware or his surroundings.
"Funny, I would have thought an asshole like you would have decorated in a color more to your suiting, like shit brown." Alix smiled slyly. Leaning down to his ear, her lips brushed lightly against his skin. “Do. You. Know. Why. I. Am. Here.?" she spoke slowly letting the gravity of his situation sink in.
Get the fuck off me cunt!" Hans barked out, his speech still thick with false sleep as the tranquilizer began to wear off.
"Pity, most men would die to be in your current state. As I recall once said to me, ‘It’d be one hell of a fantasy come to life’.” Her fingers clutched his jaw, pulling it back so his face was securely looking at her. “Payback is a bitch and today I happen to be that bitch.” Hoping off the SOB, Alix knew she would greatly enjoy what was about to happen.
Placing her hand on his forehead, Alix poured images of all the women he had sold in his rings. All the pain and torment they endured, every second of their fear and anguish. As he thrashed more Alix pushed more images into his head until his screams became desperate cries begging her to stop. “I’ll stop! I won’t sell them anymore.” His pleas fell on deaf ears as she pulled away. His mind went erratic as he fought to find away to free himself. "What the fuck do you want from me? Money? You've got it, Males, females maybe, I can do that...No wait you're probably a Coker? Ah yes, that’s what you want, right?" Hans, thinking of the best way to make a deal and save his skin from what was about to happen, he watched anxiously as Alix slide her ivory carved porcelain gripped dagger from its sheath.
“You’ll do more than stop.” The chill in her voice terrified him, his eyes shot open in panic, he begged for his life.
In one graceful arch, she came down across his throat, slicing the sinews with all the precision of a surgeon. Crimson blood wept from the wound, down his skin, to the desk, trickling rivers down the legs. The metallic scent of his blood disgusted her as the pulled away from the pools of red liquid forming on the floor. Carefully she wiped her blade over his black Armani shirt and slide it silently in to her thigh holster. “Please send my regards to Satan.” Winking back at him, Hans’s eyes slowly dilated into the “fixed” position. “Perfect.” She smiled. The glow rescinded as she stepped towards the wall of glass windows. It was moments like this that she considered what she truly was, an assassin. One with the distinct gift. She possessed “The Matter” like no other and didn’t feel the need to question why anymore. Long ago, she had begged Crem, the leader of the Sisterhood for answers, only to be denied any truth. Secrecy and rules……. Always the fucking rules.