Come Fill Me (The Prophecy) (30 page)

Time passed more swiftly here than it did on his plane. As people moved about, their bodies seemed to blur. The vibrant colors dazzled when compared to his realm’s somber hues, making Nikoli slightly dizzy, the same as touching her.

“Regina,” he repeated, enjoying the sound of her name. He glanced at her fiery red hair, gold earrings—the color of stars on his side—soft gray sweater and black pants.

Gently, she squeezed his hand, her expression soft with arousal. “And you are?”

There was no need to lie. Tonight would be their only time together. Tomorrow, Regina would be safe, and he would surely be dead. Even if he escaped harm from Sazaar, Andris and the others, death awaited him on his return to E2. Fear or sorrow should have overwhelmed Nikoli. Instead, gratitude for this small slice of time, this moment of unrestricted joy, quickened his answer. “Nikoli Zorr.”

Regina moved her lips as though testing his name. Her resultant smile said she liked it. “Nikoli.” Her iris’s green tint was darker now, lushly verdant in the room’s scant light. She studied his features. “It sounds Russian. Were you born there?”

Prepared for her questions, he continued to lie. “My parents emigrated from a small isolated village in Romania. They brought me over when I was twelve. I’m afraid our accent is quite unique.”

“It fits you,” she said. “Do you work here?” She glimpsed at his shoulders. “Are you on your way home?”

“Sir?”

Nikoli glanced over at the young woman who had waited on him. She regarded Regina’s hand in his, then flashed him a hungry smile.

Unmoved by her seduction, growing cautious, he said, “Yes?”

“You forgot your change.” She rested a series of bills and circular coins near his cup, then regarded him, her expression expectant.

Nikoli wasn’t certain how to respond. Of the currency he’d stolen, he hadn’t known how much to offer for the drink. Overwhelmed at seeing Regina, at being close enough to hear her speak, he’d watched her hand over a bill for her order but hadn’t noticed if she’d received anything back.

“Thank you,” he said.

Brows drawn together, the girl glanced at the bills.

Nikoli sensed she wanted them back. Why, he didn’t know. Taking a chance, he slid the one on top toward her to see what would happen.

“Thank
you,”
she said, pocketing it. Ponytail swinging, she hurried back to her station.

“Wow. You’re a good tipper,” Regina said, arching one brow.

Nikoli wasn’t certain what she meant. His only answer was the truth. “I wanted her to leave.” He smiled. “It was the only way I knew to get rid of her.”

Regina laughed.

The carefree, tinkling sound stroked Nikoli’s soul. With great care, he squeezed her fingers.

Regina’s expression grew distracted, her smile fading as she glanced at their hands, her fingers hugging his. Not caring if he acted recklessly, Nikoli held on to her for a few seconds more.

After he released her, Regina wrapped her fingers around her cup. She asked again, “Do you work in this building?”

“On the third floor,” he offered, lying easily, giving her the name of one of the companies he’d passed on the way down here.

Nodding, Regina captured a bit of the drink’s whipped cream on her fingertip, then brought it to her mouth, licking it off.

The back of his neck tingled.

“Do you own the company?” she asked.

His attention remained on her mouth, the promise of its wet heat beyond her plump bottom lip. He imagined his tongue stroking her lips, parting them, seeking entrance. Once claimed, he pictured Regina offering even more of herself. On her knees, she’d take his cock into her velvety palms, lifting it to her mouth, drawing it inside, providing shelter, elation, completion. Sounding distracted, he said, “Yes.”

“What business are you in, Nikoli?”

The shameless images in his mind evaporated with her question. Stalling for an answer, his knowledge of this realm, he peeled off the white circular cover on the top of his cup and placed it to the side. A word popped in his mind, one he’d seen quite a few times on this plane. “Consulting.”

“On what?”

His pulse pounded. He thought back to things he’d seen here. “Computer software designs.”

Regina’s quick nod told Nikoli he hadn’t said anything strange.

She smiled. “My system could certainly use some expert help. Carly’s always complaining about how we need to move my accounting and other files into the twenty-first century. Sad to say, I’ve let her whine without really doing anything to fix the problem. I figured she could just live with it since she’s my only employee, kind of a combination bookkeeper-receptionist-secretary. But hey, if you know software, maybe you can give me a couple of tips on what I need to do.”

Sweat trickled down Nikoli’s back. He had no idea what to suggest. The systems on this side were centuries behind the advancements on his. “Of course, but I generally work with large firms with hundreds of employees.” To take the focus off himself, he asked, “What business are you in, Regina?”

“I’m a psychologist.” She ran her fingertip over the food she’d been eating. Small, delicate flakes fell from it onto the countertop. “I deal with anxiety disorders.”

He offered a nod of encouragement. “I admire anyone who helps others with their problems. Your work must be very rewarding.”

Appreciation for his comment radiated from her. “I certainly try to help all that I can. Unfortunately, I’m not always successful.”

He thought of Sazaar and was careful to keep himself from sounding worried. “It’s understandable that some can’t be helped.”

Regina offered a rueful smile. “I’ll have to remember that when I’m feeling badly about a failure. Now that I know you work here, perhaps I can ask you for a pep talk from time to time.”

He spoke without thinking. “A pep talk?”

“A word of support,” she amended.

“Of course.” With his full attention on her, he spoke from the heart, offering a future they didn’t have. “Always.”

A soft heat emanated from her, the kind a woman on this side showed when she wanted a man. “Are you on your way home, Nikoli?”

Surprised at her question, not knowing why she asked, he shook his head.

She glanced at his coat, confusion sparking in her expression as though she’d expected him to leave.

“There’s a matter I have to attend to,” he said, being deliberately vague, “but I still have work to do and planned to return shortly.”

Naked pleasure shone on her face.

It pleased him as nothing else ever had. “Are you going home?” he asked.

“I have one last patient in a few minutes.” She nibbled on the edge of her food, then returned it to the white square it had rested on—what her people called a napkin. Brushing crumbs from the side of her mouth, she said, “The appointment will be over in an hour. If you don’t have to work past seven fifteen or so, would you care to have dinner with me?” She lowered her hand to the table, waiting for his answer.

His mouth had already gone dry. Her words rang in his mind.

I have one last patient.

Sazaar. For weeks, he’d watched his mate arrive at Regina’s office, then struggle to disclose her abominable secrets. Thus far, Sazaar hadn’t revealed anything about Andris and the others. Tonight, she would. Nikoli sensed it. Feared it.

Once Regina learned what no human was meant to know, Sazaar would destroy her. She’d have no other choice.

Duty and honor demand the ultimate sacrifice.

Haevyn

© 2012 Darcy Abriel

Humanotica, Book 2

Everyone has their poison. For Haevyn Briena, it’s her inability to resist a dare. This time it’s a challenge from her friend and lover, Grisha, to sneak into the popular, illegal cage fights that always end in all-male orgies. Eagerly she snaps up the gauntlet, unaware that she will end the night forever changed.

When expatriate humanotic warrior Entreus locks eyes with Haevyn at the sex-fueled event, he is instantly captivated. Despite a duty that binds him to an exiled malevolent sorcerer, he seeks her out in a shattering, illuminating encounter.

Grisha’s plan is in motion—to bring both his warrior lovers together and heal their scarred souls with a combined passion that he alone cannot provide. But Haevyn’s tormented past refuses to die. And Entreus will not rest until the Core that ruined his life is destroyed.

Amid ever-tangling emotions and a brutal plot to take over the city, the three lovers walk a tightrope that could be cut at any moment. Fighting for justice, bound by duty…and a love that could alter the foundations of their world.

Warning: Watch out for oiled-up, naked trinespined warriors battling for top position, feisty tracer females that fit oh-so-snugly in between, and sexy nights that segue into complex relationships. Beware of tebitcheckers wielding those nasty little contulators at illegal, testosterone-drenched cage confrontations
.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Haevyn:

The stillness of the night closed in around her, and Haevyn hugged the warm cloak closer. Quickly drawing in a breath of stinging, salty sea air, she attempted to clear her head and regain some measure of composure. She should not be lusting after such a man. She’d learned firsthand the true nature of a humanotic. The education she’d received as the doxy of just such a humanotic should have been long-lasting and far-reaching. She’d joined the Compsociates in part to get away from his kind.

Haevyn had promised herself she wouldn’t think about the past. What had gone before she couldn’t change, no matter how much she wished it were otherwise. There had been purpose to it, but still the scar remained firmly etched into her
sporiti
. Somehow, she hadn’t expected the sensation of…filth to remain with her. She’d learned to live with it, learned to adjust and to bear the stain. There were moments… Ah, yes, there were moments when she came close to forgetting her past. Grisha helped soothe her
sporiti
. He never judged her for her choices, never demanded. He understood her as no one else could.

Still, out of the ashes of her past had been formed this twisted attraction, like flutterflies to a flame, drawing her to the heart of destruction. Hot, bright and painfully savage. Scars formed from the fires of retribution now made her
need
, so much more than ever before, to escape the numbing that shut her off from dangerous emotion.

Her boots thumped against the old wood boards. At least the choices she’d made, though survival had necessitated them, had been her own. She’d clawed her way out of the factories, away from Rollin Trader, and with luck, she’d managed to keep herself out of the hands of humanotics and far away from the Factorium that created them. Even if it did mean fighting her own base urges as well.

“You shouldn’t be out walking these docks alone.”

She whirled around, a hand going to the weapon in the deep pocket of her cloak. Instinct kicked in.

It was him, the humanotic champion from the Cockrage. Her fingers curled around the unyielding handle of the revolver. Just that act alone offered some security. She should have scented him, known he was near. Facing him, though he stood some distance away in deeper shadows untouched by the bright moonlight, she took a cautious step back. He reeked still of game-savage intensity. And the scent of that barbarian earthiness appealed to her in a way it shouldn’t. But now, at least, he was partially clothed, though the trousers fit him all too snugly.

“Are you following me?” she asked in a deceptively deep tone, still trying to mask her sex.

He stepped forward, lamplight spilling over him, glinting on his bare, skinmetal chest. Gods help her, why was she drawn to this stranger so peculiarly? She fought the attraction with everything she had, but it was almost more than she could withstand. Something seemed…different about him. Or maybe it was just the energy of the night still drenching her from the games. Aberrant attraction. She would be the cause of her own destruction if she wasn’t careful.

He shrugged. “I saw you at the fights. I knew you weren’t one of them. Perhaps you intrigue me. There’s little in this dimension that…arouses me of late.”

The tenseness of his half-guarded expression seemed familiar—a resonance in the intensity that shot through her,
sporiti
-deep. She connected with that emotion. Understood it. The cowl of her coat still shrouded her face; the bulkiness of the outer garment engulfed her form. “I’m not what you think I am.”

Her nipples drew tight and hard as an unexpected desire took root. She saw a glint in his eyes and knew that probably, with his altered senses, he could smell her arousal.

He took another step toward her. “You belong to Grisha. I saw you with him. Why are you out here alone?”

“What’s it to you?” Her heart pounded. They were alone here in the dead of night. He might do anything to her.

Anything at all.

Her nipples scraped against the rough fabric of the binding beneath her shirt, the contact shooting a jolt of blistering desire through her body down to her cunt. She fought for control; her fingers trembled against the grip of the gun, but it wasn’t because she was chilled, nor was it from fear. What would it be like to fuck him? She already knew every inch of his man-flesh from the cockfight. She’d seen him aroused. Had watched him dominate and claim sexual victory over his opponent. She had even imagined herself in the place of that vanquished warrior, feeling that cock penetrating deeply into her pussy.