Pharon's Demon
Authors: Anne Marsh
Tags: #paranormal romance, #space opera, #erotic romance, #pirates
Copyright 2014 Anne Marsh
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Author’s Note
I’ve read plenty of reviews where the
reviewer mentioned an intense desire for the story to be longer.
Much, much longer. Sometimes I agree and sometimes I disagree, but
it got me to thinking… my first paranormal romance, THE HUNT,
started life as a thirty page novella. Even better, it was a sexy
space opera with playful BDSM elements. As I wrote the story,
however, I kept hearing a little voice in my head (always
dangerous) going
This should be longer…
Eventually, I listened to the little voice,
rewrote and expanded the story, and THE HUNT was born. I’ve always
enjoyed its precursor, however, and thought it would be fun to
share with you. If you enjoy it, there’s more kinky cat hijinks in
the full-length book.
Planet Zemelda.
Certain obvious difficulties presented
themselves when you came from a race of highly successful
intergalactic pirates. Bennu’s people had more than enough money to
buy their own small planet hidden in an out-of-the-way galaxy, and
her own brothers had proved quite happy to follow in the family
footsteps. Anhur, Kneph and Kontar were skilled thieves who
conducted daring raids in the small, bullet-shaped ships that her
engineer-mother had designed just for that purpose. Two of them
even specialized in reconnaissance thefts, going undercover to
spirit away whatever object had caught their fancy. Pin-up posters
across the galaxy featured their faces, smiling, winking and oozing
sex appeal. Catch one of her brothers and he’d brazen it out with
flashing dimples and smooth, golden charm. Bennu had watched women
melt at their feet, happy to hand over whatever piece of jewelry or
expensive statuary her brothers had been apprehended in the midst
of thieving.
Her brothers were excellent pirates.
She, on the other hand, was not.
She knew how to skulk and dodge, how to
rappel up smooth walls and into security-riddled vaults and
mansions. She’d mastered those skills at just as young an age as
her brothers had. She could fence, shoot, and arm-wrestle an
opponent with as much élan as any of her brothers. It wasn’t the
derring-do part of things that got her in trouble. It was the
getting caught part.
Bennu loved getting caught. Other thieves
feared being caught; they did everything in their power to prevent
it. She, however—she got hot and wet remembering the times she’d
been caught. And yet none of her captors had ever punished her like
she deserved. Like she secretly wanted. Hell, the last time, the
warlord from whom she’d been purloining a particularly spectacular
gold dagger had laughed at her effrontery and tumbled straight back
into his furs, without any other sort of prelude.
She
preferred more in the way of foreplay than spreading her legs, even
if he was deliciously large and brawny.
There had to be someone out there willing and
ready to teach a girl a well-deserved lesson.
Wherever he was, he wasn’t here. The Director
of Intergalactic Piracy Planning continued his lecture on her
shortcomings in the piracy-planning arena, forcing her attention
back to what her life
was
rather than what it could be. He
strode back and forth in front of his desk, the dark material of
his blacksuit pulling slightly over his paunch. Somehow he managed
to look stern and disapproving even as he advocated theft. You’d
have thought he was calling her on the carpet for kicking small,
fuzzy animals or stealing candy from orphans.
“You need to pull your own weight around
here,” he concluded, clearly finishing up the canned part of his
speech.
She took issue with that. “I do. Believe me,
I do.”
He sighed, a disappointed sound as familiar
as the speech. “I’m sure everyone appreciates your willingness to
pitch in and do whatever needs to be done, Bennu, but there’s only
so far that fetching, carrying and creative accounting can get you
in this business.”
Her last official job had been six months
ago—the warlord with the dagger. Her brothers believed her
spectacular failure to bring home the prize was due to a lack of
skills on her part. They’d spent every subsequent waking
minute—when they weren’t out collecting more jewels and gold coins
to add to Zemelda’s already overflowing coffers—training her to
sneak around and to disguise herself. They’d sent her clambering
over walls and sliding along ropes. Not only was the constant
work-out exhausting, but the only sexual satisfaction she found now
was what she gave herself. Living at home was worse than living in
a cloister. A quick hand job in the dead of night—particularly when
her family had the night vision of cats and were stealthy enough to
make knowing where they were more guesswork than certainty—was
nowhere near as satisfying as skin-on-skin sex. And it was nowhere
near as satisfying as hot, wet bump-and-grind after some alpha male
paddled her ass in retaliation for theft and then stuffed her sex
so full of hot, juicy cock that the come leaked out of her all the
way back to Zemelda. She squirmed, just thinking of it.
“So tell me my mission,” she demanded. The
unspoken words
last chance
hung in the air, but it was
easier to pretend if some things remained unsaid.
“Have you heard of Zeberget?” The director
cued a series of images on the computer screen. She hadn’t, but
that lack was apparently about to be remedied. “It’s a small, arid
planet that belongs to the Pharon dynasty. It takes weeks to get
there, even traveling as fast as you can. No stops,” he warned,
clearly familiar with her usual behavior. Damn. So much for
visiting the pleasure quarters of Rtut.
“What do they have that the Family wants?”
She’d have to go fetch whatever it was that They wanted, but good
intel was not to be sneezed at—and the Director’s was usually of
the highest caliber. Which made it interesting that he suddenly
looked uncomfortable. “Spill,” she coaxed when he hesitated.
“Zeberget is known for its mines, with
several veins of topaz running deep below the planet’s surface. The
raw stones from the mines are worth fortunes by themselves and the
Family wants you to retrieve a bag of uncut stones. Because the
stones are shipped off-surface as soon they are brought up from the
mines, you’ll need to go down into one of the shafts and cut out
your own stones.”
“That’s it?” It sounded too simple. There
would be armed guards and all the difficulties of arranging
transport, but this sounded like an in-and-out sort of an
operation. And completely uninteresting.
The Director shook his head—this must have
been the good part he’d hesitated to disclose. “The problem with
Zeberget is that the Pharon dynasty apparently has some sort of
deal with the underworld demons.”
Underworld demons were definitely more
interesting.
“The demons guard the mines.” Images marched
across the screen as he clicked his pointer. A stark, hot desert
world in full summer bloom against a jewel-blue sky. The harsh jut
of volcanic mountain peaks. A few clusters of peach-colored
buildings with soft swooping curves and arches, sweltering in the
arid heat, followed by the generous spill of white sand against the
welcome edges of the ocean. All lush and exotic. If she’d been in
the market for a vacation, she would have been all sign-me-up. What
she didn’t see, however, were any pictures of the hot underworld
demons. That was an interesting omission.
“You’ll go in by spaceship,” he continued.
“Be prepared for a water landing. We’re not sure what sorts of
creatures live in the oceans on Zeberget, but be prepared for
trouble.”
“And once I’ve landed?”
“A local will guide you to the closest mine
shaft. The Pharons have a few caretakers living on the surface.”
The Director stopped the slideshow on the picture of a pink-colored
masonry building with a domed roof. “The guards, however, live
belowground. Above ground, there’s not too much to worry about
besides the occasional sand storm or scorpion.”
Wonderful. Why had
she
been chosen for
this job?
“I understand,” she said, because that was
the correct answer, and snapped her handheld closed. The Director
transferred the files from his computer to her device before
standing up.
“Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks.” She turned for the door.
Let’s
get this show on the road.
“Bennu.” He said her name with an audible
sigh. “Don’t get caught this time. The Family won’t give you
another chance.”
Sure she wouldn’t. Using sex to finesse your
way out of a bungled bit of thievery didn’t seem fair. It was just
her luck she was so damn good at it.
She gave the Director a cheeky salute and
made a beeline for the docking stations and her spaceship.
Planet Zeberget.
Bennu set the spacecraft down in the shallow
lagoon ringing the main continent of Zeberget, wincing as the metal
exterior scrapped loudly across the exposed corals. Low tide. Her
data was incomplete. Instead of slipping quietly through the
atmosphere and landing in the dead of night, she’d put down in the
middle of the afternoon and on top of an entire coral reef. In ten
minutes, she’d done more to damage the local ecosystem than any of
the planet’s inhabitants had done in a lifetime. Damn and double
damn.
She swam to shore, wishing she’d brought her
diving gear. The surface reef plunged steeply just beyond her
landing place in a fantastic display of soft corals. Colorful
gorgonians spread their skeletal fingers, undulating slightly in
the currents. Shoals of fish darted to and fro and, far below, she
saw the spotted crescent of a ray gliding along the sandy bottom.
Without the weapon-toting demon guards, the Pharon could make a
killing selling package tours. She’d be the first to sign up to
spend her free summers here.
The tribesman waiting for her on the shore
looked displeased. “They didn’t tell me that they were sending a
woman.”
Too bad, so sad.
His gaze traveled down the length of her body
and back up again. Apparently, he found her regulation Lycra
blacksuit more attractive than some did. “You should return to your
ship. This is not a good place for you.”
She was here now. Threats weren’t going to
stop her. “Just take me to the mine shaft,” she said, hoisting her
pack onto her back.
He turned and began striding back up the
beach. Bennu followed, the heavy sand dragging at her footsteps,
the sun-heated air making her blacksuit stick to her skin. A
rivulet of sweat ran down the curve of her spine.
“Is this heat normal?” Best to know what she
was facing. And to plan on a wardrobe change if she made a return
trip.
Her guide shrugged. “These are the summer
months. The heat is more intense now. They told you, did they not,
what you will find down in the mines? Are you sure that you still
wish to descend?”
“Yes,” she said. “I came here to do a job and
I’m going to do it. A pack of demons isn’t stopping me.” She’d
never had hot, crazy demon sex before. With luck, she could snag
the topazes
and
a demon before she headed back to her
ship.
“There are snakes,” the man argued, clearly
certain that he could dissuade her.
A low hill rose beyond the beach. Studded
with date palms, the gentle slope presented a dark smudge on the
horizon. It was also their destination, unless she missed her
guess.
“Snakes,” she repeated. That was a new
one.