Chained_Brides of the Kindred Page 12

  “I don’t think so.” Kor took a step toward the man, his eyes starting to glow. “My lady doesn’t feel like punishing anyone else today so I’m taking her home.”

  “No. Your lady—our mistress—will stay and hand out punishment as is her duty,” the giant snarled. “Or perhaps she will receive a punishment herself.”

  Kor’s eyes glowed brighter than ever, emitting a red hot light that reminded Maggie of molten lava. “Are you threatening my lady?” he asked in a soft voice. “Are you?”

  For the first time, the leather giant looked uncertain.

  “In entering this part of the wood and touching this tree, she made a promise. A promise she has not yet fulfilled.”

  Maggie frowned. What was he talking about? Were the people here in this dream actually alive somehow? And why did they want her to play Mistress so badly?

  “My lady touched your tree by accident and was unable to free herself,” Kor said, still in the same, soft, dangerous voice. “She is a gentle, innocent soul who has no wish to hurt or punish anyone.”

  The leather giant frowned. “She must—”

  “She must leave here now. I am escorting her back to the wood,” Kor said. “Lay a hand on her and I’ll snap your neck.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure if it was his calm, matter-of-fact way of threatening or his glowing eyes, but the towering leather giant finally backed down.

  “Very well,” he muttered. “But if you do not enjoy these activities, do not enter this dream again. We who live here require sustenance—it is cruel to offer it and then withdraw at the last moment.”

  Kor nodded briefly. “Fine. You won’t see us here again—that’s a promise.”

  “Then you may go.” To Maggie’s relief, the leather giant stepped to one side and allowed Kor to grab her hand and lead her off the stage.

  “That was close,” she muttered from the corner of her mouth as they passed through the silent leather-people who had gathered at the foot of the stage to watch the whipping that never happened. “Uh, how long until we—”

  Suddenly the dark sex dungeon was gone and they were standing among the trees with black leaves again.

  “Get out,” Maggie finished. “Oh—here we are.”

  “Yes, and you appear to be wounded.” Kor was frowning at her.

  “What? How?” Maggie was mainly thinking that he appeared to be dressed again. She didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that. Though he was certainly all kinds of tasty in the nude, there was no doubt it was more comfortable to see him with his naughty bits covered.

  “I don’t know how—let me look at your back.”

  “Oh, right—my back!” Maggie remembered a scratching sensation she’d thought was the centipede right before she’d blundered into the bondage tree. Looking around, though, it seemed more logical to assume she’d stumbled backward into the spines of the barbed-wire tree. Thank goodness she hadn’t grabbed that one by mistake! Who knows where she might have ended up—probably Nazi Germany or someplace equally awful.

  “You’re bleeding.” Kor sounded so grim, she turned to face him.

  “What’s wrong? It doesn’t feel that bad—can you see bone or something? Is my scapula sticking out?”

  “No.” He sighed. “But there’s no way we can go to the Remembrance Pool now. An open wound would make you much too susceptible to its fluids.”

  Maggie shrugged. “Okay, well, let’s skip it then.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand—touring the Dreaming Wood and the Remembrance Pool isn’t just a social custom—it’s actually a required part of being at the spa.”

  “But…why?”

  “This place is run by Sensorians—beings who feed on emotion. By providing their patrons access to their deepest dreams and fondest memories, they are generating emotion which they can feed on—both directly and indirectly.”

  “Oh…” Maggie suddenly understood. “So the people in that tree-dream…”

  “Were actually actors put there to generate emotion,” Kor finished for her.

  “And…” She bit her lip. “Back at the reception desk when you were, uh, kissing my leg? And then afterwards the attendants were so thankful and they turned that weird rosy pink color… You weren’t just putting on a show?”

  “Not completely. I was also giving them a little taste of my feelings for you.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “It seemed to make them very happy as I recall.”

  Maggie’s heart was suddenly beating harder.

  “Oh, but you…you don’t really…”

  “Feel desire for your sweet, curvy little body?” Kor gave her a slow smile. “Of course, I do, blondie. After the way you touched me when you were washing off the verium…”

  “I only did that because I had to,” Maggie protested. God, she wished he wouldn’t look at her like that. It made her feel naked. “It wasn’t like I was…was fondling you for fun or something! I mean, I am engaged.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said dryly. “So you keep reminding me.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I wonder how dear old Donald would feel if he knew you got all dressed up in black leather and paddled people for fun?”

  “Don’t tease me,” Maggie muttered. “You know perfectly well that was not fun for me. And Donald is very straight laced—I don’t think he’d be interested either.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kor was looking at her speculatively. “Right.”

  “Leave me alone.” Maggie crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. “Just drop it—okay?”

  “I’d drop it if the idea didn’t appear to interest you—at least on some level,” he growled, breaking into her thoughts. “But I think you like it, Maggie. Maybe not the whole punishment aspect but you like being dressed up and put on display. You’re not nearly as ‘straight laced’ as your dull fiancé.”

  “I’m telling you, I don’t,” Maggie insisted. “It’s just not…me. I mean, just look at me. I’m not like some kind of a sex kitten who crooks her little finger and all the guys come running. I look ridiculous in this kind of thing.” She gestured at the tight cat suit. “And even worse in that getup I was wearing in the tree-dream.”

  “Actually, you looked amazing.” Kor’s voice was a soft growl. “More than amazing. I don’t know why you don’t have more confidence in your own beauty, blondie. If you came up to me, wearing those clothes, maybe wanting to play a little game…”

  Maggie’s whole body began to feel hot and flushed.

  “I…I would never…I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Just trying to get to know you, Maggie.” Kor stroked her cheek which was hot with embarrassment.

  “Don’t.” Maggie pulled away from the gentle touch, her heart pounding. “We shouldn’t.”

  “All right. Not now, anyway.” He let his hand drop to his side. “But you may have to get over that whole ‘touch-me-not’ attitude in the very near future—that is, if you want to get out of here.”

  Maggie felt a twinge of unease. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by that?”

  But Kor only shook his head. “Never mind, my lady. Let’s just get you back to the room and treat your wounds. I’ll inform the front desk that my mistress is tired and resting before the Grand Banquet tonight. We’ll just have to go to the pool early tomorrow morning.”

  With that, he led the way out of the woods, refusing to answer any more questions, no matter how often Maggie asked.

  * * * * *

  “Damn!” Xandra the swamp witch clenched her too-long fingers into fists at her sides as she glared down into the pale blue concoction in her cauldron. They weren’t going to the Remembrance Pool! But it was necessary—they must if the seed of memory was to be planted. Without it, Therron would never return and she would never have her revenge.

  She paced beside the cauldron for a moment, watching as the other patrons of the spa walked in a leisurely manner to and fro. Suddenly she stopped and nodded once, sharply to herself.

  �
�Oh, you’ll go to the pool, my darlings,” she muttered, reaching for a glass jar of something dark and viscous. It slid with oily ease as she poured it into the mixture in the cauldron, turning the water a dark, cloudy gray. “You’ll go whether you want to or not—and there the seed will be planted!”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are you serious? I can’t wear this.”

  Kor gave a long suffering sigh. “What’s wrong with this one? You’ve already rejected the first five—we’re running out of options and the Grand Banquet starts within the hour.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Maggie gestured to herself. “What’s wrong with it?”

  She was wearing a white lace gown with a deep V neck and a matching slit up the center of the skirt. The two met in the middle with a black diamond design which emphasized her waist. It showed a lot of leg—as well as the white lace panties that went with it—but at least it covered her breasts completely, which seemed to be important to her.

  Honestly, Kor thought she looked good enough to eat. Just watching her full hips sway and seeing the outline of her tight little nipples behind the delicate white lace was making his black leather slave pants uncomfortably tight. But Maggie was unaccountably shy about her body and not very happy about wearing the Yonnie Six clothing that fashion-minded Lady Pope’nose had packed for herself.

  “Yes,” he said, still trying to understand her problem. “What’s wrong?”

  “The same thing that’s wrong with all the others—they’re too tight and even if they weren’t, they’re completely obscene.” Maggie glared at him, as though he had personally designed the gowns they were going through.

  “It’s not too tight,” Kor tried to tell her. “It’s stretchy—see? It hugs your curves perfectly, Mistress.”

  “Maybe I don’t want my curves hugged.” Maggie crossed her arms over her chest protectively and looked down. “Maybe I’m wishing for a nice baggy pair of sweatpants and a night in watching trashy TV shows. Can’t we just skip the banquet tonight and do that? Do they have cable up here? I’d commit murder for a Pretty Lying Lovelies marathon and a big bowl of buttered popcorn.”

  “I don’t know what either of those things is but I do know you can’t miss the banquet after skipping the pool,” Kor said firmly. “Not only would all the other mistresses talk, but the Sensorians who run this place would begin demanding that you pay up. And I don’t think you’d like the way they extract late payments here. I’ll give you a hint—they find pain just as delicious as pleasure.”

  Maggie shivered and took a deep breath. “All right, fine," she said at last. "I guess this one is as good as any. I might as well wear it.”

  “You look beautiful, you know,” Kor murmured, taking her hand. “The dress looks like it was made for you.”

  “Um…thank you.” She blushed bright pink as she always seemed to do when given a compliment, and looked away.

  Kor frowned. Was she really so unused to being complimented on her beauty? But how could that be? She was gorgeous with her blonde curls and her big eyes…Suddenly he realized he still didn’t know their color.

  “Here,” he said, slipping off her oculars.

  “What are you…hey, I need those,” Maggie protested at once.

  “I know. But I’ve been wondering since I first saw you in my dreams what color your eyes are.” He stepped closer and tilted her chin up so he could study her face.

  His nearness seemed to embarrass her because she blushed an even deeper pink and looked down.”

  “Look at me, Maggie,” he commanded softly. “Let me see you."

  Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his.

  “Blue,” Kor murmured, studying them closely. “They’re so dark I thought they might be brown or even black but they’re midnight blue. Fucking gorgeous, blondie.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, but there was no fight in her voice and she didn’t look away from his gaze.

  “Don’t call you what?” he asked, deliberately misunderstanding her. “Gorgeous? I can’t help it—you are. And that white lace dress is perfect on you. You’ll be the most beautiful mistress at the banquet.”

  “Only I’m not really a mistress.” Her voice was soft and breathless.

  “Tonight you are,” Kor corrected her gently. “And I’m your slave. Listen, Maggie, you should know that we might have to…act in certain ways in order to avoid suspicion.”

  Her big blue eyes went wide. “What ways?”

  “Never mind.” Kor was sorry he’d said anything but he hadn’t wanted her to be completely surprised. “Just follow my lead and do what all the other mistresses do.”

  “But…but what are you going to do to me?” She looked frightened.

  “Nothing you don’t want me to,” Kor promised. He cupped her cheek. “Look, I know we haven’t known each other very long but it feels like we have.”

  “Because of the dreams,” Maggie whispered.

  He nodded. “Because of the dreams."

  "What caused them? Why did we have them?"

  Kor shook his head. "I don't know. But what I do know—what I want you to know is that I would never hurt you—all right? In fact, my whole agenda tonight is about protecting you…about not arousing suspicion.”

  “All right.” She nodded. “I…I trust you, Kor. But…after the banquet we’ll find the night porter and bribe him so I can make the call, right?”

  “Is that all you care about?” he asked roughly. “Getting away from here? Going our separate ways?”

  Maggie looked confused. “Of course not but I thought—I mean, you want to go too, right? You want to get away and live your life as a free man, away from Lady Pope’nose and everyone like her, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.” Kor sighed. “Here, let me check your back one more time.”

  She turned obediently and stood quietly while he examined the two long scratches she’d gotten in the forbidden part of the Dreaming Wood. They weren’t as deep as he had feared and they were no longer bleeding which was good. Kor had found a first aid kit and covered them with wound knitting salve that worked quickly. He was glad to see that both of the scratches were almost healed—they should be closed enough for Maggie to safely visit the Remembrance pool tomorrow if they had to make an appearance before they could get away and…

  Go our separate ways. It was exactly what he had said to Maggie—exactly what they ought to do. So why was he still so reluctant to let this little female go? I barely know her, he told himself, running one finger gently along her back, tracing a line between the two scratches. Why should I care where she goes?

  But the fact was, he did care. A hell of a lot.

  Maggie shivered under his touch like a nervous animal.

  “Sorry.” Kor stopped at once.

  “No, it’s just…it tickles. Are they healing all right?” She turned back to face him.

  Kor nodded. “Just fine.”

  “Good.” Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. “Then…could I have my glasses back?”

  “Your what?” he frowned. “Oh, you mean these?” He handed her the oculars.

  “Exactly.” She slipped them back on and pushed them up her nose with a contented sigh. “There. Now I feel like myself again.”

  “You like wearing them?” Kor raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Oh, well…I know they’re not the prettiest things.” She gave a self-conscious little laugh. “With my prescription, the lenses are always too thick to do much of anything decorative with them. And I’ve tried contacts but they dry out my eyes, especially when I’m working and looking into a microscope. I know they have all kinds of laser surgeries now but I’m kind of a chicken when it comes to that. I mean, it’s your eyes. What if they screw it up and you wind up blind?”

  “From the look of those oculars, you’re half-blind already.” Kor smiled to soften his comment. “But don’t apologize for wearing them—I like them.”

  “You do?” She looked at him uncertainly. �
��Why?”

  “Because, when you’re wearing them, no other male can see those gorgeous blue eyes of yours.” Leaning down, he kissed her on the mouth, barely brushing her lips with his. Gods, she smelled good—some fragrance that was warm and softly feminine at the same time. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and inhale deeply, wanted to crush her to him and hold her sweet, curvy body close to his, but he held himself back, not wanting to frighten her.

  “What…” Maggie put her fingertips to her lips, as though to feel where his mouth had been. “What was that for?”

  “For luck,” Kor said lightly. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it. Come on, my lady. The Grand Banquet awaits.”

  * * * * *

  Maggie had a bad feeling about the banquet as they rode down in the green glass elevators which led to the lobby. Kor had promised to do the bare minimum in the way of a slave/mistress display but she couldn’t shake the idea that even the bare minimum was going to end up being a lot more than she was willing to do.

  Not that she didn’t want to do it—she did and that was the problem.

  I shouldn’t feel this way about him, she thought as they stood in silence, waiting for the doors to slide open. Shouldn’t be so attracted to another man. A man who isn’t Donald.

  And yet, she couldn’t help it. When Kor touched her—when he even looked at her—her heart started to race and her skin seemed to become more sensitive. And his scent…it was a warm, dark, masculine spice that seemed to invade all her senses at once. Just standing here in an enclosed space with him was making her feel hot all over. Of course, part of that could be because he was just so big—his shoulders were probably twice as broad as hers and he was at least six foot six if not taller. He was probably generating twice as much body heat as a regular guy would.

  Maggie had never spent this much time around such a physically imposing man and it was a little hard to get used to. Well, after tonight you won’t have to worry about it, she told herself uneasily. We’ll bribe the night porter and be out of here by tomorrow. Hopefully. In the mean time she just had to keep it together for a little while longer.