The Patron

By Selena Illyria

© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Right Reserved

I/R,Paranormal

Every twist, every turn, through the labyrinthine hallways of the backstage area of the Opera house brought her closer and closer to her goal. It became harder to breath, and her heart picked up pace with each step that she took. Her body hummed with anticipation as the guide told her how lucky she was to be at the Opera House on that day, at that time, as the Opera Company was moving the next day to another town. She clutched the handle of her opera glasses tightly, her fan hanging off her wrist, gently swaying as they made their way deeper into the backstage area. They passed by singers, set builders and extras, but she didn’t care about any of them. All she cared about was him.

Her body heated, stomach tightened, her breasts became full and heavy, the nipples beading tightly, aching for attention. Her panties became moist at the very mention of him. The whole reason for attending the opera that night was to see him perform before the company left town to tour. She had tried in vain to attend the theatre when the company had first arrived, but work kept her from her desire. But now tonight, on the last night of their performance, she would get to meet the man she had dreamt about before ever seeing his face clearly. Just hearing him play the violin brought her close to orgasmic bliss. She bit her lip, remembering how aroused she became when the opera arrived to the point where he performed his violin solo. The audience couldn’t see him, as he was in the orchestra pit, but that didn’t stop her from picturing him in her mind; visualizing his face from the photo she had found among her father’s person affects after the accident.

In the photo, her father stood next to a young man, who looked to be about twenty-five at the time. They were in front of a red brick building, the young man holding a violin in one had and a bow in the other. His pale skin was a stark contrast to the long, ink black wavy hair that fell to his hips. His eyes were an indiscernible color, and she couldn’t see many features as the picture was somewhat fuzzy on his part. Her father stood next to him, cocoa skin glowing, his clipped curls, cut close to his head, wearing a black suit and crisp white shirt with plain black tie. His arm around the young man, actually smiling, something she rarely saw while growing up in his house.

When she’d inquired about the picture, her father’s best friend and lawyer told her that her father was the young man’s patron, a practice that she had thought long dead. When it had come time to decide what to do about the young man, now thirty, she’d decided to continue as his benefactor. After all, she’d grown up listening to opera, and loved the violin; although she had never played an instrument, she could appreciate the talent it took. Over the three years she had been his patron, she got to know him via letters and emails. It started out with the usual, Hi, how are you?, I’m fine, this is where we are, this is when we leave. But soon, the letters became more intimate. She looked forward to reading his correspondence, loved getting mail with foreign stamps and postmarks, and adored hearing about his travels and the people he met.

But she had never spoken to him on the phone, not daring to break the spell of intimacy she shared with him in his letters. All she had of him, as far as his image was concerned, was the blurry picture. Then two years ago he’d signed a record deal, and his first CD had sold quickly, becoming a number one seller. Although he was in high demand, he chose to tour with the opera house exclusively. She couldn’t count how many times she had listened to his CD; the sensual play of the bow on the strings, the sweet, moody melody of the violin filling her ears and bringing such intense emotion and pleasure. She’d found herself fantasizing that he played only for her. It seemed ridiculous to her logical mind, but she kept the dream alive. Soon, those imaginings had turned sensual, and then downright erotic. She’d find herself breathless at times, aroused at the mere thought of those dreams.

And now she was about to meet him, her dream, in the flesh.

She prayed that he was all she hoped him to be. She had frequented the opera scene since she was a little girl; her father was a great believer in supporting the arts. And due to his generosity, it allowed them access to places the public couldn’t go. She had gotten to meet great singers and celebrities, but found most of them so vain and self-absorbed that they became insufferable to her. She hoped he wasn’t like that.

The longer she followed her guide backstage, the darker it seemed to become. Light fixtures on the walls were wider spaced, and she found herself becoming both nervous and excited. With each step she took, arousal burned brighter and brighter within her. Soon, a soft melody floated toward them, and she paused, closing her eyes, savoring the sweet sound. It was heavenly; she just knew that it was him playing. She clutched the program she carried with her for him to sign tightly in her fist, not caring that it would be wrinkled. Soon she would get to meet him. The guide seemed to notice her pause as he stopped and turned back toward her.

“Well, Miss? Are you coming or not?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t like the way the guide looked at her, like she was some groupie. As if she planned to fall at the violin player’s feet, bask in his presence and hope he would chose her to spend his night with. Straightening up, spine rigid, she held her head high.

“I was just straining my ears to hear the music. Let us continue,” she said sharply. She swore she heard him snicker softly, but chose to ignore it.

As they continued down the hallway, the music became louder and louder until, finally, they were before him. There he sat in an open space where the corrider connected with other hallways, a single light illuminated him. He was not what she expected at all. His black suit pants were wrinkled, his black jacket, thrown carelessly on a nearby traveling trunk. His white shirt was unbuttoned enough to show a sliver of pale white skin. He sat on a pile of crates, his head bent so his hair fell around him like a curtain of midnight ink, his fingers moving deftly over the strings, completely oblivious to their presence. With each pluck of his fingers, each swipe of his bow her body came to life, responding to the melody; her clit throbbed, pulsing in time with the beat. Her body grew hotter as the music sped up.

And then suddenly it all stopped. His head came up, his hair still covering most of his features. From what she could see, he had full lips shaped in a Cupid’s bow. He stood, violin in his right hand, bow in his left hanging at his sides. He reached up and tucked some hair behind his ear, and she saw a quick flash of silver before it disappeared. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d seen an a silver earring.

“Mr. Bartholomew? May I present . . .”

Her guide was interrupted by Sebastien Bartholomew, violin prodigy extraordinaire.

“I know who she is, Giannini. She is my patron.”

His voice was like liquid velvet running against silken skin, skittering along her spine, heating her core, tightening her stomach further and causing the arousal within her to increase ten fold. The room became like an inferno, and her nipples hardened against the crushed silk of her dress as she extended her hand, as calmly as she could, toward him. His large alabaster hand, rough with calluses, enveloped her small hand. Holding it firmly, he didn’t shake it; instead he gave it a firm yank, and she stumbled toward him until she hit a hard wall of pure man. His arousal pressed against the soft swell of her belly. Gulping she looked up, knees threatening to give way at any second. Her dark brown eyes clashed with his green-gold orbs, looking down at her, darkening with each second that passed.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She tried again, but like before, nothing. He brought his head down to hers, his lips crushing the delicate flesh of her mouth. She felt his arm snake around her waist, the violin hitting her thigh. He devoured her in a demanding kiss that she couldn’t break if her life depended on it.

He finally pulled his head away from hers and looked deeply into her eyes, reaching up he brushed back a stray curl, his roughened fingertips brushing her silken skin.

“Welcome to my world, wife,” he whispered.

She stared at him in wonder until his words sunk in. Trying to shove him off of her, she finally found her voice and uttered, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not your wife.”

The Violinist
By: Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

15 Years Ago . . .

He pressed his ear to the door, listening. His hand squeezed into a fist, resisting the urge to open the door and peek. She was home. She was here, in the house. Ever fiber of his being was tuned into her presence. For the first time in months he was overjoyed, his angel, had returned to him. Well, not to him, she had returned home and that was enough for him. He could hear Mr. Humphreys’ voice loud and clear, criticizing his daughter, Lea and all Lea would say was, “Yes, sir.” or “No, sir.”

Her soft voice, wrapping itself around his heart, squeezing it, making him light headed. He gritted his teeth, every word, made him angrier and angrier. He hated when Mr. Humphreys’ criticized Lea. The man never had anything kind or nurturing to say to her, it was always a put down. He heard, the dismissal, “You can go.”

And quickly rushed toward the opposite wall, tucking himself into a darkened alcove. He saw the door open and Lea come out, the bodice of her dress hugging her chest, showing the curve of her breasts and a hint of cleavage. Her floor length skirt belling out at the hips, the crimson color, complimenting her rich cocoa skin. His heart began to beat faster as he struggled to keep breathing. She was so beautiful, so perfect, so angelic to him, how could he not be in love with her? He bit his lip, his canines digging into the delicate flesh of his full bottom lip. He could taste the sweet metallic flavor of blood, as his teeth pierced the thin skin. He leaned his head back against the silk wallpaper. He watched as her head bowed, her fists clenched in held back anger and frustration. He understood her pain, knew what it was like to not be acknowledged as you wanted to be. He wanted to go to her, wrap his arms around her and tell her she was loved and appreciated, that she was as beautiful as she was intelligent.

But he held his tongue, his whole body shaking from the effort of restraining himself. Mr. Humphreys had made it clear under no circumstances was she to know of his existence. He didn’t know the reason why, but if he wanted to continue his lessons, he would not reveal himself to the girl he had fallen in love with. Besides her, his lessons meant everything to him. Playing the violin meant an escape from the life that would have awaited him should he break their deal. He dreamed of a life of fame and money and once that was accomplished he would break away from his cruel patron and introduce himself to his love. He dreamed that she would reciprocate his feelings and wish to marry him and then he would have everything he had ever wanted; his love, his music and a life beyond the prison of his bedroom in the mansion.

He watched her take a deep breath, raise her head, a single tear making it’s way down her cheek. He held his breath as she dashed the evidence of her pain, away. Hands loosening, falling to her sides in a relaxed position, she turned and walked down the hall, taking with her, though she didn’t know it, his heart. Sighing heavily, he crept down the hall in the opposite direction, toward his room, where he would practice crafting his trade as a violinist.

Closing the door softly behind him, he walked to his wooden chair by the single window of his room, currently covered in frost due to the cold. Opening his case, taking out his treasured instrument and bow, he began to play his scales, which soon morphed into a sad love song for a girl who did not know he even existed. Sebastian Bartholomew played well into the night, the same sad song over and over again, tears slipping down his face, eyes closed as he played the notes that expressed the pain of his heart. He had just come to a pause when he heard it, a soft rapping on his door. He opened his eyes slowly, green-gold eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness that had fallen in his room.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

His breath hitched, it was her! She had heard him playing. He quickly put his violin and bow back into the case. Closing the lid, he stood, straightening his wrinkled clothes. Taking in a deep breath, he walked toward the door, hand extended, ready to take hold of the knob and turn it, all he could think about was seeing her. Then he heard her voice, softly muttering, “Must be the radio.”

No! His mind cried out. He rushed toward the door, no longer caring about the rules that had been laid out for him. He threw it open and rushed out into the hallway only to see her retreating figure, being swallowed up the darkness. He held back a howl of frustration. Rushing back into his room, he slammed the door and leaned against. He had missed his chance to finally see her, look into her brown eyes and hear her voice, up close and in personal. He slammed his fist into the door, once, twice, three times, head bowed, long black waves of his hair covering his face. Would fate continue to torment him like this? So close and yet so far, how long would he have to endure the pain of unrequited love before luck would grace him with it’s presence? Gritting his teeth he looked up, eyes glittering, rushing over to his chair, he opened his violin case, took out his instrument and his bow and started to play like a demon, using the violin to express his rage at life. All the time one thought ran through his mind, one day he would break free of Mr. Humphreys and get back his life. He was tired of being tied to the curse that kept his soul in this dimension. Damn him for making a deal with a mortal.

The Present Day
By: Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

Sebastian pulled back, looking down at Lea, his fingers trailed down the sides of her neck, brushing her pulse on their way down, over her satin covered shoulders and down her arms to take her hands into his. He resisted the urge to lower his head back down and take her lips again, taste the sweetness of her kiss. He drew a deep breath and looked into her eyes, filled with confusion and apprehension. He silently dammed, Jeffery Humphreys, because of him, she remembered nothing. He opened his mouth, ready to spill is deepest secrets, tell her their history, finally lay bare his soul to her and yet nothing came out. How could he explain something that had become so complicated? Even to him and he was there in the beginning. Sighing, he dropped her hands and stepped back, that small act, caused him a slight pang of pain.

“Will you have dinner with me?” He asked, silently begging her to take him up on the offer. If he was truthful it wasn’t just about having dinner with her wasn’t just about spending more time with her, he was hungry too, he hadn’t eaten all day, too busy practicing his solo, focusing on getting it perfect. He felt he had been off the night before and was determined to correct that error, especially since he had received word that she would be in the audience tonight. That night, that performance was only for her, as it had always been. He studied her face, watching her emotions dance in her eyes as she tried to understand his earlier words.

He knew he had screwed up, he should let her remember that day, instead he should have said nothing at all. Finally she looked up at him, her brown eyes melting him, he became warm, stomach tightening and breathing became hard. He watched her lick her lips and almost reached out to pull her back into his arms for another taste. His hands twitched, longing to feel her skin against his palms. He gave himself a mental shake, asking himself how would he get through dinner if he couldn’t control himself? He couldn’t answer himself.

“Okay, I’ll have dinner with you, but you have to explain that last remark.” She said.

In a sign of nervousness, he reached up and tucked some hair behind his ear, his fingers brushing the smooth, cold silver obelisk, earring, dangling in the lobe.

“Over dinner.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, arms folding over her chest, emphasizing her small breasts. The scoop neck of her dress showed just a hint of tantalizing cleavage, driving him further to distraction. The tilt of her chin, showed she wanted to be stubborn, he didn’t have much time to explain, tomorrow he would be leaving with the opera to go to the next town and he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

“Please, over dinner, all will be explained,” he pleaded, wincing, if his former comrades could see him now, pleading with a woman he would never have heard the end of it. Thankfully they were elsewhere, no doubt causing mischief to fill the boredom. He waited and watched as she weighed her options. Taking a deep breath she replied.

“Fine, dinner, where should I meet you?”
“I shall take you, Giannini?” Sebastian looked around he knew that stage manager wouldn’t be far off. He would undoubtedly be eavesdropping on their conversation, ready to spread the backstage gossip as soon as he got a chance.

Giannini stepped out from the shadows, shoulders covered in dust, an indication that he had chosen to hide behind an old, dusty curtain hanging nearby. The stage manager bowed low, trying to show an over exaggerated semblance of respect for his star violinist.

“Yes, Mr. Bartholomew? He asked, not lifting his head.

“I wish for my car to be brought around, I will be taking my wi . . . patron to dinner at Clair de Lune. Thank you.”

Gianinni, did not say a word, instead straightened and left the two of them alone.

“Thank you.” He said, quietly.

She didn’t say anything instead she nodded her head and turned her back on him.

“I’ll meet you outside. I have a phone call to make, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Bartholomew.”

She didn’t wait for his response, instead started walking down the corridor, going back the way she came.

“Sebastian, my love, call me Sebastian,” he said quietly. He quickly gathered his things together, shrugging on his jacket and placing his violin and bow in his case. Straightening he went to meet her outside. Once outside he looked around and spotted her, shivering from the lack of a coat, night had fallen fully, stars sparkled like diamonds thrown across a black silken blanket that was the sky. No one else stood in front of the Opera house. He walked toward her, putting down his case, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it across her shoulders.

“There now, you will be much warmer in this.”

He patted her shoulders and rubbed them lightly before stepping back. He didn’t notice the way she had stiffened, but he did notice when she whirled around.

“What did you say?”

A crazed look in her eye, his pulse quickened, his nerves became alive, he hadn’t realized he’d made a mistake, until now.

“I told you, you would be warmer in my jacket.”

“You,” Her hand shook as she pointed a finger at him in accusation, “You were there, after I was attacked that night. You . . . you saved my life.”

Sebastian could have smacked himself in the head. He had used the exact phrasing and done the exact same thing five years ago, after some of his brethren had found her and tried to kill her. He couldn’t help but wonder, now would she remember what they had done to save her life and what her father had done that could have killed her?

Finding the Past
Part 1
By:
Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

Lea pushed play on her laptop and the sounds of Punk Rock filled her speakers and sighed. Pulling her paperwork toward her, she picked up a pen and started to look over the document in front of her. She tried in vain to forget her dinner with Sebastian but her mind wouldn’t let her. She sighed, shoulders sagging as her body reacted to her memories. After he had placed his jacket over her shoulders and uttered those memorable words, it was like something clicked into place and her mind hit rewind, she found herself standing in the family graveyard, placing flowers on her mother’s grave, the huge granite headstone, complete with a statue of a weeping angel, stood in front her. She barely remembered her mother. Every memory she had of her was of perfume, make-up and a sweet voice that seduced every man she met. Her mother had been the picture of perfection, not a hair out of place, a smudge of her make-up or an ill timed remark.

Her mother had been smart, sophisticated and a perfect match for her father in every way, too bad she hadn’t been a perfect mother as well. On the surface, the Humphreys Family looked perfect, but the reality was both parents were so wrapped up in their own worlds they hardly had time for the daughter. Lea had been raised by nannies, always taught to call Madeline ‘mommy’ in front of company, but other than that, anyone could have raised her. Perfection had practically been beaten into Lea when she was growing up, nothing less would do. When her mother died, thing became worse, her father became secretive, where once she was allowed to roam freely all over the mansion, she was restricted to her suite of rooms, the kitchens and library, no satisfactory explanation had been given to her. When she was younger she followed that rule blindly, but when she started hearing music drifting from the forbidden wing, she investigated, although she never found the source, the mystery music was always a comfort to her.

Then one day, at her mother’s grave, she felt it, something was behind her, she turned to find her confronted by at least five men, well not men exactly. They had the form of men, but seemed to be covered in dusty black clothes, their forms, gaunt and skeletal, all one could see of their face were black, eyes, inky and dark. Death spelled out with their gaze. She had been frozen with fear, the flowers in her hand, slipping to the ground as tears started to spill, she couldn’t control herself, she knew she was going to die and all she could think of was the music, how she would never find the source of the sad, melancholy music.

Shaking, a sense of cold rising within her, she stared at the things before her, she wanted to run but was unable to. And then he appeared, black as night, was all she could see of him. The forms moved toward him, it was a blur of of figures dancing and weapons clashing, at least she thought she saw weapons, swords to be exact. Her body finally reacted and like a marionette with it strings cut, she crumpled to her knees, pain pierced her side, then her back. She was sure of those figures had attacked her, warm liquid soaked her side and back, but she barely noticed as blackness, wavered at the edge of her vision and then she screamed as something bit her on the shoulder, the blackness wavered and started to take over her vision. She uttered a single word, a whispered plea, “Violin.”

Then she fell to her side as her life draining from the wounds on her side, back and being pulled into the creature currently feeding on her through her shoulder. She could feel every tug, soon the tug went from one creature to two then three. Before the inky darkness of death, became her vision, she saw him, her defender, fighting with two creatures, she opened her mouth to call to him, to let go and save himself, but it was too late, warmth became ice and she was close to death, not bright light to walk toward, no voices calling to her from the great beyond, nothing, just empty silence.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been dead, she suddenly found herself, engulfed in roaring heat, like her body was in the heart of the fire. The flames danced, sparkled and wrapped themselves around her, caressing her skin. She could feel rage, anger sadness, loss, hope, love and so many other emotions and a voice; a low, husky, seductive voice calling to her.

“Lea, my love, don’t go yet, please don’t go.”

She felt the heat die down as the inferno was replaced by something warm placed around her shoulders, life started to pour into her. Large hands patted her shoulders, rubbing them slightly.

“There now, you’ll be much warmer in this.” The voice said.

She didn’t understand how she would be much warmer in whatever he put around her shoulders when her body was on fire, but as if a sudden gust of wind blew out a candle, the heat was suddenly gone and she was left shivering and cold. With great effort and pain, she managed to wrap her fingers around the thick, heavy cloth, pulling it around her, she was sure she was on the ground, she could feel the cold blades of grass on her skin, like a thousand needle pricks as her body awakened to life. She slowly opened her eyes, though her lids felt heavy. Looking around slowly, through narrowed eyes, she saw no one. She was alone in the graveyard, alone, cold and so sleepy.

* * * * * *

Coming back to the present she sighed, her back and side winced at the phantom wounds. She still wondered how she could have forgotten such an event, she also wondered about Sebastian, he didn’t deny that he had been at the graveyard, but he didn’t give her much to go on either. She needed answers and she needed them now. Putting her pen down, she reached for the phone, dialing the number by heart she called the one person she was sure she could trust. He picked up the phone after two rings, voice husky from sleep.

” ‘Ello?”
Lea smiled.
“David, it’s me Lea I need you to do me a favor, I need you to find out all you can about my father and someone named Sebastian Bartholomew.”
“That all?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, going back to sleep now.”

Lea shook her head.

“Sweet dreams.”

David mumbled something before hanging up the phone. Lea placed her receiver back on its cradle and looked toward the poster of Sebastian on the wall, one way or another she was going to find out what had happened all those years ago and why Sebastian called her his wife, another thing he hadn’t explained. Reaching down absently she scratched the old wound on her shoulder that still itched and pained her at times, last night, it had been burning. Now it throbbed dulling. Getting up she walked over to the mirror in her office and pulled her shirt’s collar as far down as it would go the wound, looked pale against her cocoa skin, eyebrows raised she stared at the three distinctive puncture marks, they had turned black, blood dripped from the wounds.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Finding the Past
Part 2
By:
Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

“We have a problem.”
Sebastian looked up from his book to watch David close the door behind him. The man seemed to consume the space he was in, half the room seemed to disappear behind him.
“David, to what do I owe this visit?”
“She wants me to investigate both you and her father.”
“Who is she?”
“Your wiiiffffeee,” David hissed.
“Oh.”
Sebastian slipped a bookmark into his place and closed the book. David walked further into the room until two thirds of the room was gone.
“Tone down your power, you’re consuming unconsciously,” Sebastian ordered.
David looked around. His cheeks flushed a bright red color. Rubbing the back of his neck he gave Sebastian a sheepish smile.
“Sorry about that.”
The room returned to normal, the darkness seeping toward David like ink moving in reverse back to a bottle on its side.
“May I sit down?” David asked gesturing to an empty chair. Sebastian nodded his head, inky black hair slid over his shoulder only to be brushed back over his shoulder and tucked behind his hair behind his ear, the silver obelisk dangling, glimmering, shining and quaking with every movement.
“What is going on, David?”
“Lea wants me to investigate you and her father.”
“She will find nothing.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“The fact that she’s asked me to look into you and her father tells me that she remembers something.”
“She remembers her attack, nothing else. If she remembers anything after that all the better I can then claim her as my wife officially.”
“She’s a mortal!” David said standing up suddenly the chair falling onto its back.
“And as mortal I shall protect her with my dying breath.”
“You can’t die, we can’t afford that,” David hissed.
“Those days are behind . . .”
“Don’t finish that sentence, do not even think it. Do you know what would happen if you were to die, here of all places?”
David started to pace. Sebastian sighed heavily.
“Yes, I am aware of it.”
“Hell, Bastian. All hell would break loose. We don’t have enough of us left to defend ourselves from the other dimensions. How the fuck are we supposed to defend this backwater?”
“This backwater as you put it is your home now too,” Sebastian pointed out.
“Yes, but no one will notice if I’m dead, no will care, you . . . you will be noticed. You will be more than noticed.”
“Calm down David, you’re getting agitated.”
“I can’t calm down, damn that Humphreys, he’s the reason we’re in this mess to begin with. He’s the reason so many of them, are here in the first place.”
“He’s the reason I’m here.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, she’s the reason you’re here you moron. If you hadn’t fallen in love with her none of this would be happening.”
Sebastian calmly placed his book on his lap and his hands on top of the cool leather. His power coolly sliding to his fingertips, the air becoming cold, darkness seeped from him engulfing the wall in back of him.
“Are you blaming her?” He asked calmly.
David looked up and did a double take, raising his hands in supplication.
“Please Bastian calm down, I’m not blaming her, I’m . . . I’m just frustrated with this whole situation that’s all. This has turned into a mess. “
“Yes, I know but it is a mess I’m willing to make for her, she is my wife. Nothing anyone does or says will change that.”
“I know, Bastian. Should I let the others know that we could have problems? After the attack, we didn’t really discuss this with the others.”
“The others understood when I explained how she became my wife.”
“Yes, but they need to know that she could remember,” David warned.
“Fine, fine, call them forth.”
Sebastian sighed, his shoulders sagging. He could feel his power receding as the darkness pulled back into himself. He could feel that that they were on the edge of something. Something was about to start, but he wasn’t sure what they would be facing.

* * * * * *

20 Years ago . . .
Mr. Humphreys had just become a newlywed, beaming brightly at the future ahead him and his blushing bride. But underneath the polish, gleam and prestige was a man who craved power. He had been born on the wrong side of the tracks, always lusting after what he could not have. And then one day he met a man that would change his life.

It was a hot summer night. Mr. Humphrey’s walked toward his car in the flickering light of the parking lot.
“I know you want power.”
Mr. Humphreys whirled around peering into the darkness. All the lights had gone off except one. He could see a man wrapped up from head to toe in all black, one could only see his eyes. Mr. Humphreys jerked back when, suddenly he could see those eyes up close, black, bottomless inky orbs looking back him, constantly moving.
“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” Mr. Humphreys demanded.
“Who I am and how I know your name doesn’t matter, but I know you want power and all the things that come with it, take this, use it,” The stranger said as he shoved a book at him and then in a swirl of dark clouds he was gone. The book seemed to glow in his hands the leather became hot. He dropped the book. It fell open to a page with the title: Demons of the Second Dimension. Underneath was scrawled. Demons of this Dimension can grant two wishes in exchange for flesh and blood. Mr. Humphreys was both horrified and fascinated.
“Wishes? Two wishes?” He murmured out loud.
An overwhelm urge drove him as he picked up the book, his eyes scanned the pages as he read the words. Something took hold of him, he wasn’t sure what it was but he knew one thing, he had to use the book, just had to. Closing the book and tucking it under his arm he made his way to his car, unlocking it he slid into the seat, he started it and drove carefully back home. Paranoia caused him to watch for anyone that could be following him. By the time he got home he was breathing hard and jumpy. He turned off the car, climbed out of it and headed for the house, taking the back entrance. He made his way to his study once there he closed and locked the door. He put his briefcase down and turned on the light. He shrugged out of his coat not noticing its fall to the floor. All he cared about was reading the book and figuring how to summon the demon to him. He wanted the power he felt the book could give him, wanted it desperately, whatever the cost.

Find the Past Part 3
By Selena Illyria
©2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

Lea gritted her teeth, her grip on the arm rest of her overstuffed armchair increased, nails biting into the soft, warm tan colored leather. Muscles jerked and her toes curled as yet another orgasm ripped through her. Ever since she had asked David to dig into her father’s past with Sebastian she couldn’t stop coming. She wasn’t sure what was worse; the barrage of erotic images or the orgasms. Every time she closed her eyes she saw several pairs of hands caressing her body, lips brushing her skin, tongues tracing a fiery path over her skin, flicking her nipples and clit, rimming the entrance of her dark hole and all the while she stared into green-gold eyes.
When she was awake, orgasms broke out every few minutes, varying in levels of intensity. Her voice was gone, hoarse from all the crying out, her lip ached from all the times she’d bitten down to keep from uttering a sound, she couldn’t wearing panties just the brush of fabric against her engorged clit was enough to send shockwaves through her. Gripping her coffee cup in her hand tightly she brought the ceramic mug to her lips and took a sip only to utter a sound of frustration, when a mini-orgasm broke out, her inner muscles contracting, her limbs shaking minutely.
Tea sloshed around in the cup but there was no spillage much to her relief. She brought the cup to her lips again and took a sip, grimacing at the ice cold temperature. With shaking hands she put the cup down on the table nearest her. She drew her black, diamond patterned blanket around her and shivered.
She had called in sick to work refusing to give an explanation or a time table for her return. Her shoulder ached and she had, had to replace the bandage three times that morning and five last night, she could feel the wound throb underneath the flimsy cotton, plastic and glue. She wanted it to stop. No amount of pain killers she either spread on the wound or downed stopped the pulsing or the bleeding. The punctures seemed to be enlarging, spreading forming intricate circular designs on her shoulder, like a tattoo.
The ink black markings all throbbed painfully in time with her heartbeat. She shook her head as she reached for her tea again, not caring that it was cold, she was thirsty, never in her life had she been so thirsty and yet with each swallow her throat reminded her of her screaming. She could only imagine what her neighbors thought. She didn’t really care what they thought all she could concentrate was the pain. She managed to take another sip before putting her mug back down, pulling the throw around her shoulders, she then slipped her hands under her thighs to try and keep the shaking under control. It wasn’t working.
“As beautiful as ever,” A voice said behind her chair. It sounded like Sebastian and yet it was wrong somehow. Gasping, then wincing at the pain she turned her head this way and that, not wanting to get out of the comfort and warmth of her chair. She didn’t even give thought to the hot and cold flashes she had been getting as of late. Finally the figure stepped into her line of sight and she gasped again. He held up his hands.
“No, no don’t get up, please, not on my account,” The Sebastian look alike told her, He worn tight black leather pants that emphasized his muscular thighs and his obvious bulge. He wore a loose white shirt, hair cut to his chin, curling under his square jaw, a silver obelisk dangling in each ear, red-orange eyes framed by ink black lashes.
“Who, who are you?” She whispered voice raspy.
“Oh, this is so sad. You wound me my dear, wound me straight to the heart,” He said holding his hands over his heart, a wounded look on his face.
“But it is understandable, you’re eyes were only for Sebastian. My brother has all the luck. I, my dear, am Toryn, a pleasure to meet you again.”
He bowed low, hair falling forward to cover his features, just like his brother. His skin tone was bronze, as if he enjoyed life outside in the sun.
“I love the sun. Sometimes I romp around in the nude, feeling the warmth on my skin, just divine.”
A flash of Toryn’s nude body over hers, his lips moving over hers as he pounded into her, she cried out, mouth open, a silent scream issue forth as another orgasm ripped through her, this one bigger than the last, she squeezed her legs shut, back bowed, head thrown back. Once the torturous feeling of ecstasy had passed she slumped forward, eyes closed panting. It was so pleasurable it was painful. She wanted it to stop but didn’t know how. Opening her eyes, tears brimming, ready to spill she sat up looking up at him, silently pleading with him to make it stop. She gasped when she found him not standing before her, but crouching down in front of her. His hands placed on both arm rests, bracketing her in.
“Oh, sweet, I’m so sorry,” he murmured his voice just a shade higher than Sebastian’s, like suede running over naked skin. She licked her lips, opened her mouth and only one word spilled out, “Please.”
He reached up, callused fingertips lightly brushing from her temple to her cheek.
“I’m sorry, sweet, but I can’t stop it. What I can do is bring you to my world, where you can be watched more closely.”
He brushed her temple and cheek again, a soothing sensation, making her body feel light and weightless, her eyelids heavy. She hardly noticed the mini orgasm that ran through her, causing her muscles to twitch and jump. Darkness clouded her vision and sleep soon took hold. She soon found herself in a dreamless sleep, soothed and comforted.

* * * * * *

Toryn slipped her out of the chair and into his arms, carrying her carefully to the center of the room he summoned a portal to open. Soon a swirling vortex of red-orange opened up before him, whipping his hair back. He looked around the room deciding there was nothing else to take, he stepped through the doorway. Soon he found himself in a desert landscape, a purple sky stretching out overhead. He started to walk toward a lush patch of pine trees, leaving his dry landscape that was made up of oranges, reds and pale golds, to enter craggy green territory. Walking along, Lea’s arm swinging back and forth lifelessly, he cut a path through the forest land, pausing he looked out over a cliff to the setting, blazing yellow globe, far off into the distance, the thunderous sound of waves crashing against rock below him. He turned to leave when he was confronted with a man, holding a large silver triton.
“Why the hell is she here and where is Bastian?”
“Good to see you to Tryton. She’s here because she needs our help and Bastian is still on the other side.”
“What do you mean?” Tryton moved closer, his long, wavy black hair swinging back and forth in its ponytail.
“She’s been having uncontrollable orgasms and no one to watch over her, she could hurt herself.” “And where is our dear brother Sebastian?” Tryton asked, his staff hitting a rock on the ground, it rung slightly before he raised it. Water spurted up from the spot, soon turning into a small stream.
“He is still in the mortal world.”
“Does he know you have his bride?”
“No, David came to me, told me she was remembering, this tells me she could remember certain things.”
Toryn nodded down to Lea whose body twitched and arched slightly.
“Shit, let’s get her back to the tower. We must get her strapped down. As soon as you get there send someone to fetch Bastian. I’ll go find Vulcan and Cable. Toryn watched his brother vanish in a puff of pale blue smoke. Adjusting Lea in his arms he headed deeper into the forest toward the tall tower of gray granite and red brick in the middle of the forest.

* * * * * *

20 Years ago . . .

Mr. Humphreys placed the candles just so, making sure that they formed a perfect circle. Pacing the outer edge carefully he made sure the pentagram was perfectly drawn. He had the bowl of water, a bowl of soil and a bowl of an offering of gold. He had the blood bag ready to give as payment for his wish fulfilled. Tonight he was determined to summon a demon from the first dimension, or as the book called them the Server Demons. They were the weakest of the caste system of demons. They usually served other demons and could only grant one wish. They were the lowest and least dangerous on the totem pole. The highest ranking demons were the demons on the fifth level. He didn’t care about the fifth level demons tonight. He had one wish and wanted it granted by something he felt he could easily manage.
As he lit the candles one by one, he snorted, scoffing at the old woman at the Occult store, who seemed to sense what he was about to do and warned him off.
“The old woman didn’t understand,” He muttered, “I need to do this. This is important.”
Finally getting all the candles lit, he put away his lighter and walked back to the book. Power flowed from the cracked leather cover, swirling around him, caressing him; teasing him with its scent of sandalwood and jasmine. Inhaling deeply he opened the book and pushed passed the pages of little interest to him. Finding the passage he wanted, he closed his eyes and focused. Opening his mouth he recited the small summoning verse aloud and waited, sweat slipping over his forehead. He felt a sudden gust of warm air blow against him and then a loud cackle. Opening his eyes, he saw before him a man, well if a man had a long black tail, with fire lit at the end and black horns on his head. The thing before him blinked black pupilless eyes. On closer inspection his skin had opalescent black scales, rainbow colors glittering with every movement the demon made.
“Ah, the mortal realm, nice to be back here, ooooh, shiny!”
The demon walked forward, crouching down he tried to reach out for the gold ring with the ruby inset. His hand hit the invisible barrier that was created by the candles. He hissed, shaking his hand as smoke rose from it.
“You’ll get your offering and your payment when you’ve done your duty here.”
The demon rose to his full height, which was a surprising five feet, five inches. Mr. Humphrey’s had been expecting someone or something taller.
“Fine, fine human tell me your measly wish and I’ll grant it.”
The demon shook his hand and let it fall to his side. Mr. Humphrey’s heart tattooed a beat against his chest. He licked his lips and uttered the words that would seal his fate.
“I wish for more powerful clients to frequent my law firm.”
The demon’s coal black eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“That is what you want? More work?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure? Not fame, fortune, a hotter wife than the one you’ve got?”
“No, no, no, none of those things, I want more powerful clients to frequent my law firm.”
The demon threw back his head and laughed.
“You are a strange one mortal. Fine, fine tomorrow morning when you enter your law firm you will find your wish to be granted. Now give me my offering and my payment.”
With shaking hands Mr. Humphreys put down the book, picked up the blood pack and walked toward the circle. He leaned down and picked up the ring, tossing that in first. He watched the demon pick it up, bite into it and nod in approval.
“Real gold and a real ruby, good, good, blood price?”
Mr. Humphreys tossed the bag of blood into the circle as well and watched in horror and fascination as the demon bit into the plastic bag, sucking it dry with each pull of its mouth, until nothing was left, not even droplets of blood smooshed between the thin plastic covers. The demon tossed it at the barrier and it dropped harmlessly to the ground. He threw back his head and let out a loud cackle.
“Good, Luck Humphreys my boy, good luck to you. Thanks for the laugh.”
With that the demon disappeared in a puff of red smoke. Mr. Humphreys shook. A sense of cold over took him, chilling him from head to toe. The demon had known his name. Fear started to overtake him, he dropped to his knees and warm wetness soaked his crotch at the thought the demon would come back to kill him.
“I’m in over my head,” he muttered, clutching his head.
“I’ve never done something like this before, that thing . . . that thing could kill me!”
Scrambling up he started to blow out the candles, dumping the water and soil in the trash he threw in the empty bag plastic blood bag. He threw open a closet door and threw the book in, once the candles were cooled, threw them and the bowls into a box and threw that into the closet with the book. As he shut the door and locked it he swore he could hear laughter following him as he ran out of the room. He showered, changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed beside his wife who was already asleep.
The next morning he got up and went to work, ignoring the nagging thought that he had forgotten something. When he arrived at work he was puzzled by all the commotion in front of his law firm, there were news vans and a crowd of people near the entrance. He made his way around to the back to avoid the crush and took the stairs up to the third floor where his office was located. He didn’t notice that his secretary was not at her desk, instead just picking up his messages and walked straight into his office. He stopped dead, right there sitting in the visitor’s chair was the governor of the state surrounded by his security detail. The man turned in his chair to face Mr. Humphreys.
“Ah, Mr. Humphreys, I need your help, I’ve had an accident, you’re the only one that can help me,” the man said eyeing Mr. Humphreys.
Mr. Humphreys fainted.

Finding the Past Part 4
By:
Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

“Why is she here?” Vulcan asked looking over the sleeping Lea.
“I told you she needs to be watched,” Toryn said, eyeing Lea, trying to not notice her curves. His cock hardened, remember watching Sebastian taking her over and over, bringing her to the brink of orgasm only to stop before. He turned his gaze away. He needed to stop lusting after his brother’s wife. But he couldn’t stop looking, his eyes wandered back to her. It didn’t help that she looked like the woman he had loved so long ago. The woman he had loved and lost all due to betrayal. Sighing he turned away. He caught Cable’s glance and then looked away from his brother’s knowing glance.
Cable rose from his seat as Toryn left the room. Cable followed him grabbing hold of arm.
“Don’t say it, don’t even think it.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything except, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know.”
“But you can’t stop blaming yourself. She betrayed you.”
“I know but I can’t stop the pain nor can I help that Lea looks like her.”
“She may look like her, but she isn’t her.”
“I know.”
Tryton joined them.
“Do we have to strap her down? She looks fine now.”
“It’s for her safety.”
“Why?”
“She’s come over and over again. It could drive her mad if she isn’t already. Also, she could hurt herself or one of us, until we can figure out a way to stop this, she has to be tied down.”
The brothers were interrupted from saying anything when they heard a roar echoing through the doors.
“Sebastian’ s home,” Tryton said grinning.
“Let’s go before he tears this place apart, damn David for telling him,” Toryn said as he rushed out of the room, the brothers on his heels.
They met Sebastian in the main hall of the Stone Tower.
“Brother,” Vulcan said.
“Where is she? Where is my wife? Why did you take her?” Sebastian demanded shoving past his brothers, looking around.
“We had to take her,” Toryn said.
“No, he took her. I had nothing to do with this,” Vulcan said.
Toryn turned to him, glaring “Tattletale.”
“Better have him know now rather than later. She’s in your bedroom,” Cable said.
Sebastian rushed up the stairs, his brothers fast on his heels.
“Sebastian, something’s wrong, she’s . . . she keeps . . . coming,” Tryton said.
Sebastian stopped short causing his brothers to crash into him.
“What? What’s wrong?” Toryn asked.
Sebastian didn’t answer them, he ran toward his room, throwing back the covers, he ripped her shirt, shoving it down to expose her shoulders. He ripped off the bandages, there on her shoulder he found the puncture marks, swirling, black marks, extending their delicate tendril, stretching out; enlarging the design.
“Shit! What is that?” Toryn asked looking over Sebastian’s shoulder.
“That is the question. What the fuck did those bastards do to my wife?!?” Sebastian roared.
Sebastian started to strip off her clothes until she was naked, writhing, sweat beaded her skin. The brothers could see more swirling designs along her skin all seeming to come from her back. Sebastian rolled her over gently. They could see a larger swirling pattern on her back, writhing, reforming in different patterns.
“What is that?!?”
“I don’t know. Go find the healers, find father as well,” Sebastian ordered.
The brothers took off, Toryn was the only one left.
“Sebastian?”
“Yes, Toryn?”
“It’s good to have you back, your highness. It’s time you took the throne.”
Sebastian bowed his head.
“I know, but not without my queen.”
“I know, Sebastian. I know.”
Toryn turned and rushed out of the room leaving Sebastian and Lea alone. Reaching out he brushed away curls that had fallen in her face.
“I will help you my love. I promise,” Sebastian said. He leaned over and brushed his lips. His eyes widened when she reached up, sliding her hands into his hair, holding his head down, her lips moving over his, nibbling, sucking, when he opened his mouth to her, she slipped his tongue inside of the wet cavern of her mouth. She pulled her head away, her dark brown eyes blazing with a fire he had never seen before.
“Fuck me Sebastian, fuck me now,” She begged.
* * * * * *
19 Years ago . . .
Mr. Humphreys stared at the demon standing in the circle, long dark brown hair, flowing down his back. He stood at seven feet tall, eyes like obsidian observing his surroundings. Swirling, delicate, inky, black designs swirled over his bronzed skin, constantly shaping and reshaping its design.
“You know my terms. You summoned me here now you must pay me.”
“You want to fuck my wife?”
“I require flesh and blood, Mr. Humphreys, those are my terms. Besides you have not fucked her in a year and you are also sterile. This she doesn’t know. If you wish to have an heir, this way we can help each other.”
Mr. Humphreys paced back and forth, his mind going a mile a minute. He was successful, business was booming, he had enough high profile clients to keep in rolling in money and traveling the inner circles of the powerful, wealthy and successful for years. He also had a wife that seemed to adore but behind closed doors she loathed him, she wanted to the full picture of perfection and that picture included a child. Despite the fact that she hated his touch she tolerated having sex with him all for the sake of her goal, having a child. Running a hand over the back of his neck he turned to the demon known simply as Riken.
“Fine, fine, fuck my wife and give us a child,” Mr. Humphreys said as he leaned down, took hold of two candles and moved them out of the way. The barrier between the inside and the outside of the circle shimmered for a moment like a diamond caught in the sunlight and then vanished. Riken stepped over the remainder of the candles and breathed deeply. He smiled and turned to Mr. Humphreys.
“I promise to make it pleasurable for her. Get some loud music and earphones. It’s going to be a long night. And she will forget after it’s happened.”
Riken walked pasted him walking across the room in two steps. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine in his wake, Mr. Humphreys felt a rush of heat through his body, his stomach tightening, his cock hardening and lengthening. He reached out to cradle the bulge. He closed his eyes and sank down into his executive chair. The first thing he heard was a scream of fear followed by a moan of pleasure. Without thinking Mr. Humphreys reached for his belt, undoing it and then pulling down the tab. He shoved his pants down, slipping his hands into his boxer briefs, taking hold of his cock. He couldn’t stop himself, he was so horny. He needed release, badly. He had read the risks of summoning a demon of the second dimension but didn’t think it through; he wanted more, more power, more notoriety. He summoned him knowing the payment and yet he hadn’t thought it would lead to a demon fucking his wife. He closed his eyes and pictured them together, in his mind, so clear he could see them, intertwined grunting, thrusting against each other, faster, harder, he pumped his cock faster. All night long he saw the two of them and all night long he jerked off until the morning when Riken strolled into Mr. Humphreys’ study buttoning his shirt. “It is done,” The demon said simply. Leaning down he took the blood and the gold coins from Mr. Humphreys’ private collection. In a puff of dark brown smoke, Riken disappeared and nine months later Lea was born.

Family Reunion
By Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

Lucifer held onto his prayer beads, eyes closed practicing his breathing. He loathed traveling between dimensions, he could have just appeared at the Stone Tower but he needed time to summon his thoughts, gather them and put them into order. He had always known that Lea was Riken’s child, the only child of Riken, making her the heir to his throne. But with Sebastian being the king of the Fifth Dimension things would become interesting. He would have to make a ruling on how things were split and whether he would have to create a new dimension.
Riken would not be happy that Sebastian had stopped Lea’s transformation that day at the cemetery. Once at the Tower he would demand his daughter. Sebastian though normally calm could become hard to handle his power of rage could come out, that would not be good. Things could happen that would ripple throughout the other dimensions, he couldn’t afford that. The horseless carriage pulled up at the steps of the Stone Tower in no time and Lucifer kicked the door open, scrambling to get out before the driver came around.
He breathed in the air, deeply, the sounds of nature all around him, in the distance he could see smoke coming from Vulcan’s home. The wind gently blew, ink black strands of hair across Lucifer’s face. He looked up to see Cable, Toryn and Vulcan all standing in the entryway of the Tower.
“My sons, how is Lea?”
Toryn stepped forward.
“She’s feverish and having orgasms every few seconds it seems. Sebastian is with her now.”
Lucifer sighed.
“Take me to her, expect Riken to be joining us.”
Lucifer strode past his sons into the Tower he had built for his wife Lily. There were no traces of her left except for the lilies that grew up between the cracks of the thick bricks. He breathed in the air and heard a scream. Rushing up the winding stairs he made his way to the second floor. The circular became square, tight spaces became caverns and a long hallway stretched out before him. Dashing down the oriental carpeted corridor he burst into the master bedroom, stopped short and then turned around blushing. His son was in bed with his wife, both of them naked, writhing against each other, the scent of sex hung heavy in the air.
“I’m . . . just . . . going to go now.”
He dashed back toward the door only to crash into his other sons.
“We heard a scream,” Tryton said, appearing from nowhere.
“Is Lea okay?” Toryn asked.
“Oh for the love of . . . I’m blind, I’ve gone blind. I didn’t need to see your ass, dude!” Cable shouted at his brother.
“Fuck off,” Sebastian yelled over his shoulder.
“Boys!” Lucifer yelled. “Let’s leave them alone. You don’t seem to realize this is traumatizing your old man.”
His sons took a giant step back allowing for Lucifer to close the doors. He blew out a breath of relief but that soon turned to a grimace when he heard a roar from the downstairs.
“Riken is here,” Lucifer said weakly. A pounding up the stairs heralded the angry demon’s arrival.
“Where is my daughter?” He demanded
Another scream sounded behind the door and Lucifer held tight to the door knobs. Riken stepped forward anger and concern etched on his face.
“My lord he could be hurting her, please, allow me to . . .,” Riken started.
Lucifer cut him off.
“My son would not hurt your daughter, besides she’s um fine . . . very fine in fact. Please wait for a bit . . .”
Another scream sounded and Lucifer winced.
“I promise you she will be fine.”
“My lord you don’t understand, she must go through the change fully otherwise she will kill him,” Riken explained calmly.
Lucifer paled. He stood aside and let Riken through. The demon rushed forward and pushed the doors wide open.
“Sebastian you must stop, you’ll kill yourself and her if you continue.”
Sebastian looked up and growled, his eyes black bottomless pools. Lucifer sighed, going to the bed, not caring if his son hated him, he yanked back the covers and pulled Sebastian off of Lea, causing the demon to hit the wall. Sebastian was up in a flash, growling, claws unsheathed ready to fight.
“Sebastian!” Lucifer yelled.
The room became hot, thick with heat, flames formed in the palms of Lucifer’s hands. Inky blackness spread out behind Sebastian, dark red flecks glittered in his eyes. Things were getting out of hand. Cable stepped in between both demons and froze them in place. Although frozen, they were very aware of everything that was happening to them.
“Both of you stop! This is about Lea’s health. Sebastian put cloths on, dad put that fire away. For fuck’s sake am I the only adult here?” Cable asked.
“Excuse me who died and made you think you’re the oldest runt?” Toryn asked crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, runt? Last I checked you’re the youngest,” Trytan said amused.
Cable shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“I need you to allow my servants into the tower, they need to finish the change,” Riken said hurriedly.
“Oh, hell no! Those son of a bitches can stay where ever the hell they are. I refuse to be anywhere near them,” Toryn said glaring at Riken.
“She’ll die if you don’t,” Riken said.

Transformation 

By: Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved

I/R, Paranormal

Sebastian gritted his teeth, Lea screams cut through him. He looked at the door and glared at his father who was father standing guard. He continued to pace, fists clenched, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. Another bloodcurdling scream sounded and Sebastian turned only to be stopped by his brother Toryn’s hand on his chest.
“Don’t go in there until he’s done,” Toryn said quietly.
“I can’t stand it,” Sebastian gritted out.
“Riken is doing his job, let him,” Cable said breaking his silence. Pushing away from the wall he walked over to his older brother. “It will be okay, Lea is strong, she will survive.”
“But she is mortal, my moral,” Sebastian shook his head, his heart pounding, mind filling with thoughts of what could happen if she didn’t survive. “I won’t lose her. I can’t lose her.”
Sebastian turned and ran a hand through his hair, frame taunt as he stared out the large circular window. He didn’t see the lush gardens or forests below, all he could focus was the sound of Lea’s screams.
Not many mortals survived the transformation into becoming a demon. Not many mortals chose to become a demon, there were still humans that lived in the dimensions, normal mortals who had chosen to stay as they were. The transformation was painful, to willingly give up a person’s soul in exchange for immortality. But for a half demon the transformation was even more painful. Both sides warred for control only one side could win. Whirling around Sebastian confronted his father.
“When did you know? How long did you know that she was his daughter? Why didn’t you tell me?” He demanded.
Lucifer shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “All will be revealed in time, just let Riken do his job.”
“You all keep saying that. You also keep telling me that I should also calm down. I won’t calm down. My wife is in there, in pain and I can do nothing, nothing about it. What fuck am I supposed to be calm about?!?” He cried out, spittle flying from his mouth.
Lucifer took a step forward, “You challenging me son?”
His form seemed to grow bigger, the room became hot. Sebastian stretched out his arms, shadows started to form behind him, darkness eating the room slowly.
“Whoa, whoa,” Vulcan cried out, reaching out he touched his brother, looking at his father with hesitation. The room’s temperature began to return to normal. Vulcan looked at his frozen brother and sighed. He would have to keep Sebastian frozen for at least a good two hours. Shaking his head he walked away to stand with his other brothers. Sebastian could still hear and see but could not move.
“What should we do when the two hours are up?” Vulcan asked/
“Freeze him again?” Tryton suggested.
“We can’t keep doing that,” Toryn said.
“Well, then you think of something,” Cable said.
Suddenly all was silent, Lea had stop screaming. The doors suddenly burst open and Riken came out, looking pale and shaken.
“It is done,” He walked over and leaned his shoulder against a pillar, sliding down, his minions gliding back and forth in front of the door, black, writhing swirls and curls of gray-black clouds.
Sebastian watched them slide back and forth every so often a face would become clear in the cotton candy masses.
“She needs to rest,” Riken said, voice shakily. Just as he said that the doors opened, one mocha limb slipped out of the opening, pushing the doors wide Sebastian’s breathe caught. Lea stood before them nude, her skin covered in black swirling, writhing tattoos. A wicked smile spread across her lips. “Hello, my husband. I am home,” she purred.

Union
By Selena Illyria
© 2008 Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
I/R, Paranormal

Sebastian moaned as he plunged in and out of Lia’s pussy. She was insatiable. Minutes after they had come together, she would want another round. He was afraid that he would have to call his brothers in to satisfy her. His body shook, his cock twitched as he came again. She cried out, meeting her own climax. Rolling off her, he lay on his back, breathing hard waiting for what would happen next. After a few minutes had passed he looked over at her, to find her eyes were closed, her chest rising up and down, slowing. Relief swept through him. She was asleep. Sitting up, ignoring the light headed feeling that overcame him, he slid off the bed, making his way toward the bathroom. First he damped a cloth and filled a small basin with water. Carefully he made his way back to her. Climbing on the bed he wiped away the traces of their love making before going back into the bathroom to shower.
He dressed and left the bedroom, taking one last glance at her before he left. Heading to the throne room he heard his brothers talking. Glancing out a window in passing he saw night had fallen, moonlight made the gardens look like a Gothic paradise. His stomach growled with need for food. He ignored it, he had things to take care of, first and foremost understanding how this all had happened.
How she was the daughter or Riken. And why their father never told him this information. If he had known he would have told her father what had happened her changing, perhaps wouldn’t have been so stressful. But all that was in the past, for now he concerned on the changes taking place within her. He needed to know what he was dealing with and how to handle it. All talking ceased when he entered the throne room. Making his way toward the throne, he sank down slowly and looked around. A table suddenly appeared before him laden with food and drink. Relief swept through him as he picked up a biscuit and looked pointed at his father.
“Riken and I agree that there should be no combining this dimension with his. He feels that any child born to you would take his place once he has stepped down,” Lucifer started.
Sebastian nodded and his father continued.
“This is a singular case as no one has recovered so quickly from the change before. We should proceed with caution and watch carefully.”
Sebastian nodded again.
“But Riken does have one request.”
Sebastian paused in mid bite of a rib, drenched in hickory, barbecue sauce.
“Yes?”
“He would like for you two to marry again, this time so he can witness it.”
Sebastian thought it over and smiled.
“Yes, that we can do.”
“Good. We’ll let you recover your strength for now but we will talk later.”
Sebastian nodded pleased at the idea of wedding Lia again. He continued to eat as he brothers watched him silently questions all in their eyes, those he would deal with after he had finished eat. Picking up a chicken leg he bit into it as his mind thought of all the preparations that needed to be made for the big day.

Wedding Day Pt1
5 Years Ago
By Selena Illyria
Copyright © Selena Illyria, All Rights Reserved
Interracial, Paranormal

Sebastain held Lea in his arms, carrying her limp body with great difficulty. Blood dripped from the wounds in her side and down her arm. He had wounds in stomach and side. He had a broken ankle that with every step was wounded. He felt weak, dizzy but angry and worry consumed him. He had sent all demons that had attacked her back to their maker but not without some cost. He was hurt and she was injured and infected from the bites that had been inflicted on her.
He could see black swirls, curling, writhing all over her neck, arm and hand. She had yet to awaken. That worried him. He saw her eyes moving under her eyelids but so far no response when he tried to speak to her, reassure her. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It took him a second to focus before he realized it was his brother, Toryn.
“What happened to you? Who is this?”
“We were attacked. She is Lea, I . . . . love her,” Sebastian swayed on his feet, almost dropping her. He managed to find his balance and increased his grip. His fingers dug into arm and thigh. Sebastian’s vision swam and for a second he thought he would fall, only to feel hands gripping his shoulders.
“I’ve got you. I’ll lead you upstairs.”
“No, time, call father, he needs to bind us together. She is dying,” he said weakly, his voice strained with effort.
“You want to do what? She’s human . . . she’s . . . Bastian consider what you’re saying, what you want to do. She’s human. You would be sharing your power with her. You don’t know what effect you’ll have on her.”
“Toryn, just do it.”
Sebastian stumbled but managed to keep on his feet. He kept limping toward the throne room, once there, he climbed the three marble steps, keeping his blurring vision on the throne. He managed to turn around and sink down with her in his arms. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, breathing slowly, his body ached. His side and stomach pulsed with tinges of pain.
“By the gods, Sebastian!” He heard his brother. Vulcan’s voice and then heard footsteps pounding toward him. “What happened?”
“Attacked, need father, Toryn’s gone,” Sebastian managed to rasp.
“I’ll fetch Tryton and Cable.”
Sebastian heard footsteps rushing away. His shoulders sagged and he tried to reach for his power. He need to let Lea go, his arms were asleep and numb. He managed to open his eyes and summon a small chaise lounge. He watched as he floated her toward the settee, straining his mental abilities. By the time he had laid her down he was on the edge of sleep. Yawning deeply, he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.