Isadora (Masters Among Monsters Book 2)

  As he was led between the throngs of onlookers, the volume of their whispers increased and turned to shouts of disdain. “Skotoste! Skotoste ton amartolo!”

  Yes, Elias thought. This is an execution. Kill and sinner. Those were the words being shouted at the man. One thing history never failed to produce was a frenzied group of people ready to believe each other no matter the cost—even a life.

  The flaming torches secured to the walls lit up the raised, wooden platform like a stage, and Elias’s stomach turned as he dreaded what was about to happen next. He had a feeling that the execution was the reason he was there. He just wasn’t sure why.

  Where was Isadora? The visions were supposed to show him the vampire he was to end, and he knew from his reaction to her that he hadn’t been wrong on that score. Then his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of—

  “Prince Alexios.”

  Horns blasted, silence swept over the horde, and then the dull, ominous thud of a drum began. As the prisoner was led up the stairs, a regal man stepped out onto the platform and smiled at the crowd. That was the first time Elias had seen true evil.

  “Silence,” Prince Alexios ordered, raising his hand high above his head. “While I am overjoyed at your enthusiasm, this eve marks a somber occasion. For tonight, Sebastos, son of councilman Tityrus, will be put to death.”

  As the crowd exploded with shouts and catcalls, Elias started forward. He knew he was there for a reason, and since he was undetected from this bunch, he wove his way through them towards the front, searching for Isadora.

  “Let it be known: If you are caught acting in a sinful manner which does not follow the accordance of our laws, you will be punished for your crimes.”

  The guard holding the prisoner’s shackles stepped forward, towing the man behind him. Then he came to a stop by the prince. He looked to him, reached for his visor, and then shoved it up.

  When the soldier surveyed the crowd before facing the one whose chains he held onto, Elias’s breath caught in his throat. He knew those eyes, that cocky glint, and when Vasilios reached for the hood over the prisoner’s head and whipped it off, Diomêdês’s long, silver mane flowed free. Then he flashed over behind the prince, where he circled the man’s neck with the chains of his cuffs.

  The crowd cried out in alarm and scurried as guards ran to the prince’s defense, but Vasilios was there, ripping hearts from chests as easily as one plucks fruit from a tree. It was truly terrifying.

  Elias was rooted to his spot as Diomêdês’s mouth found the prince’s ear and he told him in a tone full of vengeance and triumph, “I told you that your death would be far more painful than mine.”

  A puddle of piss formed at the Prince’s feet, and Elias watched the barbaric scene unfolding in horrid fascination.

  Then Diomêdês said, “You put me to death for watching something I should not, yet you encourage this bunch of heathens to watch you kill. Well, my friend, tonight, they can watch you die.” His eyes flicked out to the crowd, and they landed on him.

  And Elias felt as though he could see him in that moment.

  What the fuck? He was supposed to see Isadora, not Diomêdês, but before any answers could be ascertained, the vampire struck. He sank his fangs into the prince’s neck and drank.

  As the man howled in pain, Vasilios murmured, “Yes, my brother, you are a fine addition to our line. Now, end him and let us be gone.”

  Diomêdês retracted his fangs, and then he punched through the man’s body from behind, exiting through his chest with his heart in his fist.

  Vasilios gave a booming laugh as Diomêdês dropped the organ to the ground, and then Vasilios threw his helmet down beside it. The prince’s body followed, and as Diomêdês stared at the lifeless body, Vasilios clapped him on the back.

  “Okay, so your temper we will work on. Now, let us go. Ambrogio waits.”

  As the two vanished before his very eyes, so did everything else. That’s when Elias heard Artemis in his mind, Be careful, Elias Fontana. Do not forget whom it is you are up against.

  He whirled around the now-empty space, but he wasn’t sure why, when even to this day, she had never shown herself. Why would he expect anything different now?

  You too have a temper. One we have been careful to tame. Be wary of where it could lead you should you not control yourself. Find your friends, Elias, for you must come together to succeed.

  And, before any questions could be asked, Isadora stirring in his arms woke him.

  ISADORA AWOKE EXACTLY where she’d fallen asleep. On her bed, in Elias’s arms. She’d changed into a knee-length nightgown with buttons fastened from the hemline to just between her breasts.

  Once Elias had returned from his shower, he’d wrapped her in his arms and she’d drifted off to sleep under Diomêdês’s watchful eye. Their kind didn’t generally require sleep, so she figured her body must’ve still been healing after the trauma and exertions she’d placed it under.

  As her eyes opened this morning, she found herself stretched out on her right side, facing her Ancient. He hadn’t moved from the chair since the night before, and he had a peaceful look on his face. As if the sight of her sleeping and recovering had brought him great comfort.

  Diomêdês was magnificent as he sat there still dressed in his regalia. He was handsome and commanding, and his presence had her nipples hardening. His intuitive eyes fell to the hand Elias had around her waist, and as she nestled against the silent man behind her, Diomêdês’s eyes flared.

  The hand on her abdomen tightened, and when Elias aligned her body with his, Isadora licked her lips and Diomêdês inclined his head.

  Permission.

  She pushed her ass over Elias’s pelvis and let out a throaty sigh when the hand on her front lowered. His erection hardened against her rounded curves as his heated palm flattened over her mound and squeezed.

  “Oh,” she moaned, arching her head on the pillow.

  That was when Elias’s breath ghosted over her ear—he was awake.

  The hand between her thighs smoothed over her left leg to her hip, where he slowly drew the material up her legs. Once Elias had the fabric bunched around her waist, his tongue traced the line of her neck. She had the crazy notion that, as he did it, his eyes were locked with her Ancient’s, and the idea of that made her pussy throb even harder.

  As the hand on her hip slipped to her naked mound, Elias’s teeth dug into the skin beneath her ear, and Isadora’s fangs elongated. The tip of one drew blood from her lower lip as she writhed against the hard cock pressing into her.

  Do it, she wanted to shout. Touch me there.

  Elias had her on the very edge of sanity, and as he stroked his fingers up the V of her pelvic bone, she thought she’d scream. Just when she didn’t think the moment could get any more perfect, Elias finally spoke, but not to her.

  “What next?”

  She locked gazes with Diomêdês, who’d spread his legs and placed his hands flat on his thighs. When his fangs punched down and a sinful smirk crossed his lips, Isadora’s entire body vibrated.

  “Put your fingers between her pretty thighs. She’s dying for it.”

  Isadora gasped, and when a hedonistic chuckled left Elias, she knew she was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

  “Is she?”

  She reached back with one hand to grasp Elias’s hair, and as she tangled her fingers in the thick strands and yanked his head forward, she craned her head to meet his eyes. “Yes. Now put them in me.”

  Elias lowered his head, and when he bit her lower lip, a growl came from across the room. Diomêdês liked that. Elias did it again, but this time, he added a long, thick finger to go with it.

  Isadora moaned and raised her left leg onto Elias’s hip, spreading herself wide open for the one touching her and the one watching. As Elias added a second finger, she thrust back against the erection she desperately wanted inside her.

  “What next?” Elias asked.

  The fact that he hadn’t
said one damn thing to her but was looking to Diomêdês for direction had Isadora’s sex soaked from every slide of those clever, slippery fingers. It was as if he knew that by including her sire she would become even hotter, and he wasn’t fucking wrong.

  “Get her naked.”

  Elias withdrew his fingers and flipped her onto her back, and as he knelt between her spread thighs, he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices from them.

  Her lips parted and she panted as he took the hem of her nightgown and tore it open, the buttons flying free. When it was gaping wide, he gripped either side of the flimsy material and hauled her up from the bed. Then he crushed their lips together in a wild kiss, and as Isadora let herself fall under the spell of these two men, the taste of herself on Elias’s lips sent her spiraling.

  CHRIST, SHE’S FUCKING sexy, Elias thought as Isadora’s hair fell behind her and her body bowed to meet his, her naked breasts angled up like an offering he couldn’t refuse.

  Diomêdês’s eyes were fastened on them as Elias slid his tongue deep within her mouth. When a light began to flicker behind his eyes, he knew what was about to happen. He was about to be sent back, hurled into the past to see some atrocity Isadora had committed, but right then, he was too wrapped up in what was taking place to allow that to happen. So he yanked his mouth away and stared into her beautiful face instead.

  Sex with more than one participant was nothing new to Elias. Throughout college, he’d been up for trying all kinds of combinations. As an adult, he’d become more selective, and since Isadora, he’d practically lived his life as a monk, save for a one-night stand here or there.

  This, however, was a whole different ball game. The brooding vampire watching them from the plush lounge added a new meaning to the word intense, and Elias fed off the man’s power. It was rolling off him, and Elias could sense how turned on he was from observing the two of them touching one another. So he wondered why he wasn’t the one on the bed, about to fuck Isadora into the mattress.

  Hell, what did he care? It wasn’t his problem if the guy wanted to deny himself the pleasure of sinking into her tight cunt. All the more for him. As it was, his dick was so hard that it was time to undress.

  First her and then himself. It was time to relieve the tension that’d built inside him.

  He pushed the arm of the nightgown off her shoulders, and when it fell away, Isadora was fully naked. Elias lowered her back to the bed and trailed his eyes over her creamy skin. He then let them linger on her high breasts, which were tipped with dusky, erect nipples begging to be sucked. He continued his perusal down her stomach and her abdomen to the bare mound between her thighs. As his eyes zeroed in on her delicious pussy, she bent her legs until her feet were flat on the bed and then slowly parted them for him.

  Her swollen lips glistened at him, as his next instruction came from across the room.

  “Taste her.”

  Elias’s cock pounded at the order, and he grappled with the button and the zipper of his pants. Once they were undone, he placed his hands on either side of her knees and slid them down the tops of her thighs. Then he grasped under her right knee and draped it over his shoulder before pressing a palm to the inside of her left and flattening it down so that, when he swiped his tongue up her soaked slit, Diomêdês had a perfect view.

  The feral sound that met Elias’s ears let him know that the vampire had seen exactly what he’d intended. Elias turned his head, and when their eyes met, he dragged his tongue over Isadora’s clit. She cried his name, bucking her hips up to get closer.

  “Again,” Diomêdês rasped.

  Elias gave a self-satisfied grin as he flicked her sensitive bundle of nerves again and sucked it between his lips.

  “Oh, fuck, Elias,” she moaned and grabbed his head, pulling him closer.

  Elias wasn’t quite sure what he expected then, but when Diomêdês got to his feet, he raised his head.

  “Continue,” the vampire told him.

  So Elias shut his eyes and devoured Isadora as he used to years ago. He slid his tongue deep inside her, and as her fingers twisted in his hair and she arched against his mouth, he licked her folds and teased her clit before plunging back inside again.

  When her needy cries turned to a breathy, “Diomêdês,” Elias lifted his head and knelt. The male had removed his jacket and was climbing on the bed to be near her head, his black pants now unfastened.

  Isadora sat up slightly as Diomêdês’s eyes met his from behind her. Then he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “Straddle his lap.”

  Elias looked down to his erect cock, and when Isadora crawled to him and placed her knees on either side of his lap, Elias shut his eyes from the pleasure her hot, wet cunt caused his engorged dick.

  It throbbed as she rubbed herself over him. Then the mattress shifted—Diomêdês was now kneeling behind her to brush her hair aside. What the fuck was about to happen?

  Isadora raised her head and knelt. Then she reached down and lined his cock up before she slowly impaled herself. Her lips tightened, her fangs gleamed at him, and Elias couldn’t help the raw sound of satisfaction that came from him as her hands found his shoulders and she took him all the way to his balls.

  Once she was seated, her eyes flashed open and found his. Then she gave an indecent smile as Diomêdês skimmed his lips over her jaw and said, “Now, fuck her while I feed.”

  Elias groaned as he remembered the way the vampire had bitten the prince in his vision. When he sank his teeth into Isadora’s neck and her inner muscles clenched, though, Elias knew that this was completely different. What he had assumed would be painful was obviously very pleasurable as she writhed on top of his cock.

  Elias gripped her hips and let her move as she needed, all the while Diomêdês pinned him with a look full of sex and lust as he greedily drank from Isadora’s vein. It was the most fucked-up encounter he’d ever been in, but as the stunning woman fucking his dick like she would never get enough arched her neck farther to the side and reached back to fist her sire’s hair, Elias thought he’d never seen something so breathtaking than the two of them.

  Breathtaking and hot as hell.

  His fingers flexed into her hips as she continued to writhe over him, and his mind began to spin. He felt as though he were having an out-of-body experience, and when a scream ripped from her lips and her body tensed, heat flooded his cock and he squeezed his eyes shut at the intensity of her orgasm.

  As his heart thudded uncontrollably, he opened his eyes, and Diomêdês raised his head. With her blood staining his lips, he gave Elias a look of such erotic satisfaction that he found himself chasing that same high they’d both had.

  It wasn’t until the vampire said, “Come,” however, that Elias’s climax raced down to his balls and took a tight fucking hold of them.

  He emptied himself deep inside the only woman he’d ever loved and realized that she wasn’t the one who’d given him his final release. Her sire had, and that made things a whole fuck of a lot more complicated.

  ETON WALKED DOWN the east corridor like a gun was to his back and he was being made to walk the plank. He knew he looked like shit. When Alasdair had come to see if he’d check on the man in the holding cell after visiting Thanos, he’d suggested that he should perhaps change his clothes. But what was the point? The only one he cared to see him no longer wanted anything to do with him.

  So yeah, what’s the fucking point?

  The mortal wounds of the flesh, the ones that jeopardized his and Thanos’s existences, had healed enough that there was no immediate threat to their lives. His soul and peace of mind, however, was in grave danger. And death by rejection seemed like a much crueler fate than dying of a flesh wound.

  These last several days had been the worst kind of torture. In the two thousand years he’d been bound to Thanos, they had not been separated for longer than a day. Even then, his first-sired would seek out his location and come to him just to be close.

  But this
separation, this complete dismissal from his life, had Eton floundering. Had Thanos really meant what he’d said? That he wanted nothing more to do with him—ever? He couldn’t fathom it.

  If he would just listen. Try to understand why he’d done what he had. To do that, though, the stubborn ass would have to let him in to see him. Thanos would have to allow him in his bedchambers for longer than the few minutes he’d granted him thus far.

  As he came to a standstill in front of Thanos’s chambers, he ran a trembling hand through his hair and then froze. Because just beyond that door, the door of his first-sired, was the sound of another’s voice.

  * * *

  PARIS WAS DRUNK. There was no other word for it. He’d been sitting and drinking with the mysterious Thanos all night, and every time he’d tried to stop, the male had told him that he better not quit on him and poured him another glass.

  As it was, he was pretty sure he was about to slide off the chair he was sitting in and pass out, but he was determined to hold his own. Well, as much as he could against a vampire who he was almost positive couldn’t get drunk.

  “You know, for a human, you are quite entertaining, Mr. Antoniou.”

  “Lucky me, I suppose,” he joked. “Otherwise, you’d eat me. And drinking with you seems much more pleasurable from my point of view.”

  The vampire laughed, and the sound was so genuine that Paris couldn’t help his smile.

  “You would be surprised. We can make it rather…pleasurable.”

  Paris’s mouth fell open. “To be eaten? I think I’ll pass.”

  “Your loss,” he flippantly replied.

  And then, for some insane reason, Paris heard himself say, “Or yours.”

  The silence that met his ears made him think he might have gone too far with the flirty words, and just when he was about to try to change the subject, the voice from the corner sobered.