Yesterday’s excerpt VS THIS ONE! Faeries galore!

Chapter One

 

“Move the fucking line faster you cum shot posers!” HisReignGoddamn nothing irritated Millie more than when the line at her favorite Earth based Goth club moved slower than molasses. “What the fuck does it take to check ID, collect a few pitiful dollars and stamp some hands or get head from some underage human?”

“Shut up bitch!” A voice from behind yelled out, irritating her further.

Sucking in a deep breath, Millie prepped herself to butt heads with the irritating asshat who dared talk back to her. She huffed, tugged the hem of her mini skirt down over her thighs and started to march toward the sound of her annoyance, fists balled and ready to knock some heads. She spun around, seeing the few gawkers, the goth dominatrix wannabes and the skinny boys who liked the idea of sucking blood from some poor woman just so they would put out.

Before she knew it, she’d run into a wall of…

Thick muscle.

“You know he plays an extended set, shit woman. What in Diana’s name is wrong with you tonight?”

What indeed. “Virus.” That wall of muscle belonged to the shapeshifting wolf who’d saved her ass a few times from scuffs she couldn’t handle here. In true form, he’d marched up to her, clapped a hand on her barely covered ass and gave it a squeeze.

She smirked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He eyed her up and down, looking all the more lupine and ready to devour her. “I could ask you the same thing. Last you said, you weren’t coming back for at least a few more months.”

“Yeah,” she shoved back from his chest and resumed her place in line, much to the chagrin of some of the club goers. “I changed my mind.” She couldn’t ignore the depth of his lupine scent on the cold November wind, letting it tickle her senses in that sweet way she enjoyed but would never admit to.

“Oh?” He followed, quirked a brow and moved his hand to the small of her back.

She sighed, let herself feel the comfort of his touch before nodding to his question. “Yeah, I need break, okay?”

“Trouble in Faerie?”

He had no idea. Still, she turned, studied him. All six foot five, two hundred and seventy five pounds of him, to be exact. He grinned, baring sharp fangs, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself, you big dope.” Black pants clung to all that muscle of his thighs, a shirt hung loosely off his frame, exposing more muscle than God, and of course, his hair had been pulled back into a ponytail that hung down broad shoulders most women would die to feel.

Or lick.

Green eyes sparkled, “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

She shook her head, aware that the punishment for lying as Fae no longer applied.

“You’re going to have to talk soon,” he moved his hand up the small of her back and pulled her into his warm embrace while the line moved forward.

“I don’t feel like talking. I feel like getting drunk and dancing my ass off.”

“You could dance it off my cock if you wanted.”

She licked her lips but let the thought slide from her memory when she remembered the type of sex he enjoyed.

Peaceful.

Love making.

Sweet and syrupy. Nothing like fae sex. Which, of course was why she’d braved the human earth’s winter, forgetting it got pretty cold in Dallas. Not quite like the snow covered shithole she called home, the Unseelie Cyber-Kingdom, but still too cold for a miniskirt, stockings and boots. Oh, and a tight top that left her midriff showing.

He ran a hand through his midnight black hair and grinned. Then he pulled her tighter into his chest, walking with her the few steps needed until the line stopped. She allowed herself to settle against him, grateful for the comfort he provided. He’d been a friend of the family, saving her ass from one faerie court incident after another when she was younger, supporting her even though he hated her desire to enter the military.

And now he’d changed his hair color. ‘You dyed it again?”

“You noticed. You do care!” His grin widened.

She snorted. “No, I don’t. I just thought wolves didn’t need to dye their hair to change colors.”

“We do need to. Wolves aren’t like the fae in the respect of being able to change certain aspects of our features. We’re born with one coat like humans. I just grew tired of my natural brown and wanted a change. Plus, it’s sort of a requirement for getting in here.”

Unspoken requirements aside, the standard goth uniform included but was not limited to black, black, tattoos, piercings, and more black. Why the humans chased the darkness she’d never understand, but not all here were human. Some were faerie, she’d scented them when she walked from the parking lot. The wind told her many secrets, including the types of beings present tonight.

Of course much of that was training thanks to her superiors.

Yes, they’d done a damn fine job reminding her of the past version of the Unseelie Kingdom’s beauty before the Cyber-Mage took over and mechanized everything.

The throbbing mass of his erection pressed against her ass, nuzzling the crease and pushing her already short skirt up higher. She shoved against him and glared. “Relax pal. It’s not happening. We’re not compatible, Virus.”

He sniffled, then snorted. “Why can’t you love me? Just once?”

“Your version of love and mine are worlds apart, babe.”

He nodded but stroked her red hair. “You’re not kidding. Anyway, what are you doing here? I’m assuming you’re on the equivalent of shore leave.”

She nodded. “I’m trying to blow off steam before I return. Work has been hectic to say the least. And I’m not entirely here on break.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened, “Some super secret Unseelie Kingdom mission?”

“We’re a city-state now,” she snorted. “And yeah, something like that.”

“Need help?”

Of course she needed help. Virus was probably the one person she could think of off the top of her head who could help her locate Prince Faolan, leader of the Protectors. The rest would be up to her. Seduce their leader, convince him by any means necessary to join the Unseelie forces and back them, then help them defeat their enemy. “I do as a matter of fact. I need that drink and a dance partner who doesn’t knock people upside the head when he does the Gothic Macarana.”

The wind blew, pushing her skirt up higher. She reached adjust it, wouldn’t want to show the pathetic humans all the goods, they’d never buy if they saw everything. Of course when the wind blew harder, she listened.

Hoped for a sign. Even though the bass thumped loud enough that conversation by the door became difficult, the wind could normally still be heard, even in this realm.

Of course when it said nothing, it made her nervous.

The line moved again and with it, Virus and Millie. She’d kept close, enjoying the tranquil waves of energy he’d sent her way. She never knew why but Virus’s energy always seemed to center her more than any other creature. She had to thank the Lord and Lady for small favors, even though they wouldn’t hear her prayers and gratitude. At least not at home, anyway.

The line moved again and this time, Millie slipped from Virus’ embrace and dashed inside, flashing her ID and a pouty smile. She looked back, saw him reach for her.

She couldn’t help the laugh escaping her lips when she slipped inside, past the red velvet curtains and tables by the booths on her left. To her right, the colorful trash 80s room blared, covered in black brick and décor the same. She immediately rushed past the tables and short water bar toward the main bar in front of her.

She looked around, spotted a few patrons who’d showed up to avoid the cover charge before ten PM, and noted the one man looking lecherously at her.

She shot him a flippant glance, the bird and walked past him to the bar in front of her. Planting her ass in the seat, she felt amusement at the fact that mortals kept time still. So much in Faery had changed over the years but one thing remained constant. The Fae could give a shit about the passage of time. When you lived for hundreds of years, memories were held onto, but time itself carried no meaning. Up until the last few hundred years, nothing had changed.

Then the Cyber-revolution hit the Unseelie Kingdom, changing things for the worse. The land grew cold, the machines took over.

Well, more specifically, computers and logic, rather than the natural order of the Fae.

The gods and goddesses were shoved out and the land itself grew cold.

Because computers, unlike the deities, required lower temperatures to operate at maximum capacity.

Thus, holding the proletariat hostage by the military. The humans had their series of revolutions but none were this drastic. Sure, the Communists and Nazi party did major damage to humankind, but none of that compared to the hundreds of thousands of Fae who were murdered, all while changing the landscape forever.

And sealing her fate as one of the damned.

The shit was enough to depress anyone.

Which is why she made time to come to this realm and blow off steam. Balance, she remembered her father telling her, was key to holding on to who she was.

And in this moment, she was nothing more than Millie the Fae, Unseelie at worst, a sex pot at best.

Then, something popped in the energy field around her.

She spun around on the bar stool, searched the slowly growing crowd and found nothing. Shrugging, she turned toward the bar to greet the bartender, Shar.

“Whatcha have hon?”

Leaning forward, Millie looked into the sparkling eyes of the buxom redhead and reached for her wallet, “Fae whiskey please.”

Shar made sure to show plenty of cleavage, help with the tip of course. Being Fae herself, she embraced her sensuality and reminded Millie of her purpose.

Seduction.

Millie snorted, annoyed at the fact that her trip here was a planned tryst. Well, a military assignment, anyway.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t fuck off a little.

Right?

“Sure thing hon. You want that like normal?”

“You remember?”

Red hair so bright it could be mistaken for fire burned brightly in the darkness, emerald eyes betrayed the roughness of her tone. The sweet, round face hardly looked menacing, but Shar wasn’t one to be taken lightly. “I remember my kin, if that’s what you’re asking. Make it a double?”

Millie nodded. Shar had defected from the military and been banished from the Unseelie by court-marshal. The Cyber-Mage had been present for that one, with the intent to make an example, naturally.

The point stuck. Those who defected were banished, rather than killed. The honor lost in never being able to return home to where one grew up was more punishment than death. At least in death the soul returned to the land it was born of, and was given care by the Lord and Lady.

Not anymore, not with the computer machines taking over everything.

“What brought you Earth side?”

“Oh,” Millie waved a hand dismissively, “The usual.”

“You want a human to fuck, eh?”

Millie nodded. “Need, but not a human.” She whispered the last bit low enough that only Shar would be able to hear her.

The older fae’s eyes widened. “Plenty to choose from. Demons, dregs of society, humans, wolves,” she drawled out the last part, “anyone in particular?”

A moment later, Fae whiskey filled a glass and set itself down in front of her. Just because the humans were blind and dumb to magic didn’t mean Shar couldn’t use it.

Millie reached for the glass, aware of the calming properties of magically enhanced booze.

The smell of clove cigarettes and lush forest wafted towards her, signaling that she’d been spotted by another of Virus’s entourage.

Trevor, also freakishly tall, sauntered up behind her, set a hand on her shoulder before blowing a cloud of smoke above her head. His shaved face gleamed with sweat. She’d seen him naked on more than one occasion and the memory of her body dancing against his made sweat or something sweeter drip between her panty-less thighs. Never mind the fact that the Unseelie Fae were forbidden from mating with the wolves despite the desire to have them on their side during their cold war with the Seelie kingdom.

She couldn’t help but want him. He’d help her blow off steam with rough, biting sex and not leave her a blood covered mess like the rest of her ilk seemed to need these days.

More tranquility seeped into her, the white light around her flesh warming her despite the chill in the club.

Millie turned and was greeted by purple and green spiked hair that stood a foot taller than Trevor, silver eyes and a smile that could light up an entire room if he hadn’t been so threateningly huge. “Hi,” she shook her chest in his direction. “What’s cookin’?”

“You, obviously,” Trevor took another puff off his cigarette. Dressed in form fitting leather pants, boots and no shirt, his ample chest and bulging muscles rippled gracefully with each movement. “What’s new?”

“Nothing,” she took the drink from Shar and slapped a bill on the bar. “Just out for a night on the town.”

“I saw Virus a moment ago. He said you’d come in for a mission.”

Damnit, how did he always know? “No, not exactly,” she let her voice sink a few notches. The less the wolves knew, the better. She had no intention of putting her friends in harm’s way because her government called for help from the elite race of wolves who governed all the beings in all the realms.

If either Virus or Trevor were hurt, she had no idea what she’d do. It would be bad, that much was true.

She downed her entire drink, glad for the burn of the Fae whiskey, then put a hand on Trevor’s well muscled shoulder. “Dance with me?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “You only have to lead the way, babycakes.”

“Ugh,” she scoffed at his pet name. “Come on,” she downed the second drink Shar had poured for her without looking and let the booze slam into her.

Anything to forget the bullshit politics of her government, or their irrational fears of the Seelie kingdom attacking.

The Seelie weren’t quite peaceful, yet they hadn’t adopted the technological ideals the city-state of Darkness had. In fact, they were still celebrating most of their heritage traditionally, she’d heard from some of the agents who’d been sent to infiltrate.

Things were normal. The Gods and Goddesses enjoyed fertile land, light, prosperity and had no desire to mess with the natural order of things.

Fear was a mind killer, however. And in her current home, fear ruled the land, backed by the military, propaganda and scare tactics.

Trevor took her hand in his, gripped it tightly and pulled her from the bar stool. She didn’t bother pulling down her skirt, let the lecher in the corner see her ass cheek. Fucker.

She found herself on the main dance floor, facing the stage with the cross and the typical person standing by it, pretending to be crucified like Jesus. Gods the humans were pathetic in their worship of a man who was Fae, but she’d never spill that secret.

Still, the music softened, Assemblage 23 kicked on and bodies began swaying. Then Trevor pulled her to his chest, forcing her into the mass of muscle before a hand slid to the small of her back, while fingers spread over heating flesh.

Then the energy did that funny thing again.

It clicked.

He’s here.

About saschaillyvichauthor

Proclaimed by the Publishing industry as the Bad Boy of Romance, Sascha started writing eighteen years ago. His erotic romances have been listed under the Night Owl Romance and Road to Romance’s Recommended read list, and he's been nominated for a CAPA by The Romance Studio Former host of The Unnamed Romance Show on Radio Dentata Sascha continues to write for Red Sage, Decadent Publishing, Sizzler Editions and Total E-bound. Find him at http://saschaillyvichauthor.com Agency Representation provided by The Corvisiero Agency Editor for Sizzler Editions Intoxication Erotic Romance line, Sascha is also part of the WriteSex Panel, a blog group defining erotica for writers in any genre! Find us at http://www.write-sex.com
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