Authors: Missy Maxim
Tags: #vampires, #paranormal romance, #dancing, #possession, #catherine and julian
POSSESSION
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The right of Missy Maxim to be identified as
the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First printed 2010
First Edition
All characters in this publication are purely
fictitious and any resemblance to real persons--living or dead--is
purely coincidental.
By Missy Maxim
Published by Missy Maxim at Smashwords.
Copyright 2010 Missy Maxim
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Possession
Chapter 1
Lorcan followed the young woman around the
college campus as she headed for a café.
She was just another anonymous face in the
gigantic world that was Los Angeles, but something about her called
to him. Her youth, her innocence, the natural beauty hidden by
bangs and baggy clothes…he couldn’t tell you specifically, but he
was drawn to this young woman. Had been following her since
spotting her on one of his walks two weeks ago.
Yes…she would be perfect.
***
Lorcan entered the café, ruse firmly crafted.
He wore a black sweater and dark jeans, schooling his expression
into the soulful niceness of your average college senior. He
ordered a black coffee and pretended to look around the shop while
he waited, his eyes stopping on his target.
She felt his gaze, and looked down,
blushing.
How…cute
, he thought, chuckling
malevolently inside. He’d bet she was even a virgin, if he was
lucky. He did
so
love corrupting virgins.
“Hi. May I sit here? Seems to be busy
tonight.”
She pushed her books to the side. “Oh, sure!
I guess with the sudden cold turn, everybody wanted something
warm,” she replied quietly. She glanced down at the open book
before her, unsure whether to close it, or go back to reading.
“What are you studying?”
“History,” the girl confessed. “With a minor
in British Lit, just because I like it. I’m a bit of an
overachiever, I guess.” She blushed again.
“We can learn a lot from the past. My friends
call me Liam,” he supplied. “I have a passion for art, myself.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed, I m-mean,
you look more like a…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment.
“A jock? Well, there is a thrill to a good
chase. My father would have preferred I go into the family
business, but, I’m here. Do you like L.A., Miss…?”
“Catherine Mitchell. Yeah, I guess… I’m used
to it, I mean. I’m from the ‘burbs.”
He managed to coax everything out of her
after that: how her grandmother raised her after her parents died
when she was twelve, how a college education had been a parting
gift from her parents and the grandmother was now in a nursing home
with Alzheimer’s, and that freshman year had been a bit lonely so
far, with the exception of her roommate.
When the café announced it was closing,
Lorcan walked her home. He put on the hopeful puppy look that all
girls fell for, generation after generation.
“This is probably going to sound weird, but
could I sketch you sometime?” he asked with false shyness.
Her eyes widened to comic proportions.
“Me?”
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to, it’s
just…you’re so pretty, and I need to practice my life sketches.
Forget it; you don’t even know me…” He started to walk away.
“Wait. Um…”
Lorcan had his back to her, so she couldn’t
see the triumphant grin that spread across his face.
“I guess I could meet you in one of the art
rooms…” Catherine suggested.
“Thanks,” he said, sighing in relief.
“Everybody already has a subject, and the assignment’s almost due.
You saved me, Cate. Can I call you Cate?”
She stroked her long hair behind her ear and
blushed again. “I guess. I can meet you at the café tomorrow
evening?”
“Great,” he said with a smile. “I can’t
wait.”
Lorcan walked off, whistling to himself as he
turned a corner. Time to find dinner.
***
Catherine couldn’t believe she agreed to sit
for some art project, but he’d sounded…desperate, and she knew what
it was like to face a deadline here. She was only a freshman, but
there was already a lot of pressure. She set her backpack on her
bed and looked at the mirror attached to the closet door.
Pretty?
she wondered, looking at her
reflection. She was okay, she guessed.
A nice enough figure for dressy clothes, if
she could be bothered. Long, straight, brown hair that she usually
braided. Blue-gray eyes usually hidden behind reading glasses,
since she was always studying. Five-foot-four was good
enough--short enough you could wear heels around men, tall enough
for clothes to fit with ease.
But pretty?
Maybe his artist’s eye saw something she
couldn’t.
Catherine shrugged and pulled her history
book out. There was still another chapter to read before she went
to bed.
***
Lorcan was happily humming when he got back
to the hotel he and the minions were staying at.
“Good hunting, Master?”
“Better than that, boys.
I
found a new
toy.” He went to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. “She’ll be
perfect, after some training.”
“Wouldn’t an already trained courtesan be a
better choice, Master? There are plenty of beautiful girls…”
“I
want this
one!” he snarled. “She’s
innocent…a blank canvas.
And
she has a brain, unlike that
last fuckwit you found for me.”
“Melody came highly recommended.” the minion
said.
“’Melody came highly recommended’… She was an
idiot
and a whore. This new girl will be grateful I plucked
her out of obscurity…once I turn her,” Lorcan said. “We’re leaving
tomorrow night!”
He stomped into his suite to play with the
latest food the minions had brought him.
***
The next night, Catherine waited with her hot
chocolate for him to show up at the café. She was really nervous,
and hoped Liam wasn’t expecting her to pose nude. She didn’t have
that kind of bravery.
He showed up a couple minutes later dressed
similarly to the previous day. “Hey. I’m really glad you showed
up.”
“I’m a girl of my word.”
“Shall we?” They walked to the Art building
to use one of the classrooms. Liam opened the door for her. “After
you,” he said, then covered her face with a cloth soaked in ether
as she passed him.
Simultaneously, a couple minions were
clearing out her dorm room and leaving a note about rushing to the
sick grandma. Lorcan dumped the unconscious girl in the limo and
barked at the driver to head to the airport and step on it. He
caressed her face with a cold finger, her soft skin prickling with
goose bumps.
“You’re entering a whole new world, Cate.
We’re going to have
so
much fun!”
Chapter 2
“Hey, Julian. Lorcan is on the line. He has a
new girl he wants you to train,” Alana announced, walking into his
office.
“Bloody wanker! The last girl he sent back
needed reconstructive surgery. Tell him no deal.”
“He’s willing to pay double, and he wants you
to teach her personally.”
“Why?” Julian demanded.
Wait, he knew why…
“He wants to turn her, doesn’t he?”
Alana smirked, and nodded. “That’s why they
pay you the big money. My guess is that he can’t convince Celia to
come back anymore, so he wants a new toy to mold. He wants the girl
ready before the Season is over.”
“Posturing prick…it can take up to six months
to put out a qualified courtesan, and that’s with round the clock
private tutoring. Tell him no deal. I can’t make a girl into a lady
for a demon in two months.”
“Okay…but he’s already over the
Atlantic.”
Shit.
“Fine…I’ll look at her, but that’s all!”
Alana left the office, grinning. Business had
been slow, so they could use the press, and she loved handling
fresh money.
***
“Wakey, wakey, Katie…” Lorcan sang.
Catherine’s eyelids fluttered as she neared
consciousness. She felt dizzy, even though she knew she was lying
down. She tried to lift her hand to rub her eyes, only to discover
her wrists were bound.
Her eyes flew open.
“There’s my girl. I thought you were going to
sleep the whole flight.”
“Liam? Where…?”
“On my jet, somewhere over the Atlantic,” he
replied. “I want to introduce you to a ‘friend’.” He seemed to find
that idea funny, chuckling nastily.
Her ankles were tied together, too. “Why are
you doing this?” she asked.
Catherine took a better look at him now that
her eyes had cleared. Lorcan wore a black silk shirt under a
leather coat. A Celtic design belt buckle adorned his pants, and
rings had been added to his fingers. And was that…eyeliner?
“Why? Because I can,” he answered gleefully.
“You see, sweetheart, you’re no longer in the safe little coed life
you knew.”
His face shifted to that of a monster’s. He
covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream.
“Now, now, Cate…you really want to save that
for later, when I’ve earned it. I so love a
good
scream.
Here’s the deal: I’ve been bored, you’re mine now, and you’re gonna
be trained to please me.”
She shook her head in denial, because that
was all she could do.
“Cate, you really don’t have a choice in the
matter,” Lorcan told her with false regret. “I could always just
kill you, but then I’d have to find another girl, and you wouldn’t
want me to be so inconvenienced, would you…” He shook her head ‘no’
for her. “Good girl.”
“Please…” she whispered.
“You hear that, boys?” he crowed. “I haven’t
done anything, yet, and she’s already begging! Ohhh, you’re going
to be SO much fun, little Cate. Starting now.”
Lorcan cut a line into her ankle, making her
scream. He licked the blood off his finger before dragging his nail
across the first line to form an “x”.
“So much better than those little tattoos the
girls get, huh?” Hard evil eyes bored into hers. “If you’re
naughty, I can make the scar permanent.”
“I won’t…I won’t…” she sobbed.
He patted her knee. “Glad we understand each
other! So, let me tell you a story about a girl…”
Lorcan described horror upon horror in lurid
detail, slapping her if it appeared her attention wasn’t fully on
him. He didn’t touch her hard enough to bruise, but her cheek felt
hot from the sting just the same. The monster delighted in her
tears, licking them off her skin when they escaped, then laughed at
her efforts to not cry anymore.
What had she done to deserve this?
When the plane finally landed, Lorcan
fastened a tacky rhinestone collar around her neck and tugged her
along by a leash, then made her sit on his lap in the car. The
minions laughed at her humiliation, barking like dogs and making
lewd gestures.
Catherine stared out the tinted windows,
trying to ignore it all.
It was soon apparent they’d landed in London,
at night. She had no idea what time it might be or how long she’d
been unconscious before. Lorcan took her watch.
What would happen to her in the next few
days? Would she live? Would she ever see her grandmother again?
Would her roommate try calling the cops?
Catherine contemplated everything as she sat
there, rigid and stoic as possible. She wasn’t going to give that
bastard the satisfaction of her fear, though he probably knew just
how much she felt, anyway.
She hated that he kept stroking her hair.
Hated being thirsty and not able to ask for
water.
Hated needing to use the bathroom.
Hated the way her stomach was growling loud
enough for
her
to hear it.
They drove for a long time, out of the city
on a highway. The lack of food was making her sleepy, but she
couldn’t chance passing out around this bunch. Her bladder wanted
to leap for joy when they finally turned down a private road. The
car pulled up in front of an enormous house that had to be very
old.