Your Treat or Mine Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Your Treat or Mine

  ISBN #978-1-906811-23-5

  ©Copyright Tuesday Morrigan 2008

  Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright October 2008

  Edited by Christine Riley

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2008 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road

  , Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  Bite Me!

  YOUR TREAT OR MINE

  Tuesday Morrigan

  Dedication

  To my family and friends, thanks for pushing me to write this story.

  Without you, Amelia’s tale would not be.

  Chapter One

  Build My World

  Getting hazed on Halloween had to be a clear indication that Amelia was in trouble. Especially when one considered the fact that she was damn near thirty.

  She grimaced and pulled her coat closer to her cold body before stepping out of her vehicle. The north-eastern autumn weather was unnaturally cool. She took that as an omen.

  A bad one.

  She gritted her teeth and reminded herself she’d decided to start fighting for what she wanted. Straightening her shoulders, she marched on. Getting hazed was the first step in her fight for the corner office in her company’s marketing division. The click of her low heels seemed to thud through her mind as she took each step towards the front door. The walk up the cobblestone path reminded Amelia of her freshman year in college. Of her first experience with hazing.

  Despite her familiarity, she was no less nervous about the coming experience.

  She’d joined a sorority then for the camaraderie and connections the organisation had promised. She’d never once regretted her actions. Now she was about to embark on a journey that was going to allow her to join an more elite organisation. The Council of Promise.

  That was the whispered name of the three-person organisation that reportedly determined who climbed up her company’s corporate ladder.

  JAK, Inc. Using the initials from their first names to title the company, Janus Christensen, Agostino Bonacelli, and Konstantin Jovovich had come together to create JAK, Inc. The company specialised in consumer technology. Amelia was a lower level executive in the marketing division.

  She stopped several feet away from the cascading steps that led to the main door and simply stared at the building before her. According to the invite that sat in her front left pocket, the massive log home in front of her was one of the many houses provided for the executives of JAK, Inc., one of the nation’s fastest growing companies.

  But JAK, Inc. was unique in the corporate world because it was owned and managed by paranormals. The Christensens were werewolves, the Bonacellis were-tigers and the Jovoviches were vampires. As a human, Amelia had one strike against her. She’d been shocked when she discovered the true nature of her colleagues, but more than that she’d been disappointed to find her career was going to be hindered by her humanity.

  Then one night, Rickard, one of her co-workers and a trusted friend, had whispered that the Council of Promise could help her overcome her issue and rise higher in the company. Rikard also mentioned it wouldn’t be easy to get the Council’s attention. But more importantly she had to capture the interest of at least two Fates. The Three Fates were the ruling body of the Council.

  They were the true leaders of the corporation and it was no small feat to snag their attention.

  Actually, the word the man had used was impossible. Few humans were worthy of the Fates’ notice. But Amelia was used to accomplishing the undoable. When she’d seen the blood-red invitation card sitting on her desk when she returned from her lunch break, she’d nearly passed out in relief. She’d been even more surprised when she saw the address on the note. Amelia glanced back at the building before her.

  Rumour had it, the home was currently being occupied by none other than Mr. and Mrs. Christensen, one of the three couples who’d founded the corporation more than five hundred years ago.

  The anxious feeling about the upcoming hazing doubled—no, tripled.

  At least this time it’s for work, she thought as she gripped the doorknocker.

  She breathed into her cold palms as she waited for someone to answer the door. After the third blow the door swung open to reveal a dour looking butler. “Yes?” he sneered.

  Amelia stared at him blankly for a moment, torn between the desire to call him “Alfred,” or sneer right back. She could do neither since she had to be on her best behaviour.

  “I’m Amelia Brockman. Ms. Christensen and Mr. Bonacelli invited me,” she said in one long breath as she searched for the invite card that had arrived on her desk less than five hours ago. Rikard had warned her about addressing the butler. Before being allowed in, she had to identify which of the two Fates had invited her. If he was not satisfied, she would be escorted off the property.

  One snowy white eyebrow lifted and the sneer became more pronounced. “So you are the straggler?”

  “Everyone has arrived?” Amelia heard herself asking, though she already knew the answer.

  “Yes. We wait on you. Alone.” He turned around, giving her his hunched back and walked into the building. Feeling she’d been chastised and insulted, Amelia followed the butler into the building. She glanced around as she walked, taking notice of the simple elegance of the home’s foyer, the quiet glamour that marked the halls, and the sophistication of the small room the butler pointed out to her. “You will wait here,” he fairly growled before toddling away.

  A quick glance around the room confirmed Amelia was alone. Though it was too late to do anything about it, she couldn’t let the butler’s comment about her timing go. She looked at her watch, needing to know if she was late and just how tardy she was.

  If she had to grovel, she was going to be prepared to beg for forgiveness.

  She blinked at her watch and shook her arm for emphasis. According to the overpriced piece of steel, she was more than thirty minutes late.

  “Shit,” she cursed softly.

  “And here I thought you were as pure as newly fallen snow, Ms. Brockman.”

  She whipped around at the softly whispered words to find bright green eyes watching her. They seemed to glow in the barely lit room. Feeling as though the green gaze was hunting her Amelia took an instinctive step back.

  Green Eyes took a step forward, moving into the dim lighting that cloaked the room. Amelia sucked in a deep breath at the sight that greeted her. Green Eyes was cloaked from head to toe in a costume complete with a mask that covered the top half of his face. A five o’ clock shadow hid the other portion.

  But there was no denying the fact that
the man before her was handsome. Breathtaking really, as all of the Jovovich vampires were.

  “Come, Ms. Brockman, let us journey together to start the rest of your life.” He held out one broad, tanned palm, beckoning her to him.

  He had the most enticing voice. Amelia had never heard anything more attractive. Body pliant she strode over to where he stood and took his outstretched hand.

  His fingers gripped her smaller ones, closed around them with certainty. He smiled down at her, a brief flash of white teeth, and turned to the back wall of the room. He gazed out before him. Amelia lifted her head and glanced at what he was looking at. It was then she realised the room they stood in was much larger than she originally believed. “Are you ready my dear?”

  His thick smooth voice moved over her skin, caressing her flesh, leaving awakened erogenous zones in its wake. Amelia swallowed thickly and pushed the wicked heat that flushed her system away. The instant burning desire, the wanton need, she was used to it. Or she should have been used to it.

  Every one of the vampires at JAK, Inc. had the ability to turn a human, whether male or female, into a quivering mass of need with a few breathed words. This man was more potent than the rest, but not especially different.

  “Yes,” she whispered in answer.

  He smiled, flashing her that bold smile again.

  “I knew we’d chosen correctly.”

  As pride burst through Amelia at the vampire’s words, the light in the room brightened until it was a blinding flash of white. Automatically, Amelia placed her hands over her face, shielding her eyes from the silver flash. Almost as soon as the light appeared, it departed, leaving behind a room that was darker than before. Gone was the dim lighting. In its place stood three blood- red candles. Each one of the candles stood to the left of the three masked individuals. Amelia blinked twice at the sight.

  She recognised the person in the middle. To clarify, Amelia glanced at her side and indeed noted that the masked vampire was gone. He now sat before her, the head of the Council. She swallowed thickly. Though she’d been working with vampires for years now, she forgot how quickly they moved.

  “Please sit, Ms. Brockman.”

  Amelia jerked at the sound of wood moving against wood. She turned in time to see a portion of the right wall slide back into its place. A masked, hunched-over elderly man stood before it. In his hands, he held a platter with four glasses of water. No doubt it was the same butler who’d shown her to the room. He toddled over to her and held out the glasses. She took one automatically.

  “Ms. Brockman?” a sultry female voice purred in question.

  Amelia thought back frantically to what the woman had to be asking her. It came to her like a flash of lightning in the dark. Quickly, Amelia turned around searching for somewhere to sit. And almost stumbled over the seat behind her.

  She plopped down. As soon as she took her seat, a second male, the man on the right spoke. “Now that we are all ready, I suggest we begin.”

  A chaotic mix of anxiety, anticipation, fear and need churned inside of Amelia as she stared at the masked trio before her. Even if she’d not been nervous about her meeting with the Three Fates, Amelia would have been truly frightened at the sight that greeted her. Her emotions were so turbulent she could barely grasp the cool glass of water in her hand, let alone take a sip from it.

  She raised her head, determined to look into the eyes of the three people who would determine her career. At five foot two and a half inches, Amelia was used to having to look up to everyone. She knew, like Napoleon, she tended to overcompensate for her short size. Standing in front of the seated Fates, she’d felt more than diminutive.

  It didn’t help things that she was seated. She shifted in her seat uncomfortable.

  “Welcome, Ms. Brockman,” the male in the middle said.

  It took Amelia two times before she finally managed to respond. “Thank you for your invite, priests and priestess.”

  Though none of them spoke, Amelia felt their approval at her greeting. It lightened the dense air that cloaked the room. She silently thanked Rikard for teaching her the proper greeting.

  “According to your co-workers you desire more challenging opportunities at JAK Inc. Is that correct Ms. Brockman?”

  “Yes, your honour.”

  This time the three Council members glanced at each other. She knew they were wondering who’d told her the proper way for addressing them. Since the three persons judged the fate of one’s career at JAK Inc, they’d come to be known as honours, in the same tradition of American judges—something very few pledges knew. When Amelia got home, she was going to order Rikard a hundred pounds of the best steak she could afford.

  “The Council has recognised your strengths and realises you are ready for more tasks.” And a corner office, Amelia silently added.

  “The first of your tasks begins tonight,” the second male murmured.

  Here comes the hazing. The masked butler made his way over to where sat. In his gnarled hands he held a large white box with a note card on the top. Amelia’s full name was written across it. She took the box, nervous about what was going to be asked to do, but eager to finish the task.

  “You will wear the outfit, each and every last piece. Then you will go to the address provided and search for the Wolf’s Cock and Tiger’s Phallus. Follow the directions. If anyone should ask what you are looking for, you must tell them you are searching for the Wolf’s Cock and Tiger’s Phallus.”

  Amelia stared at the woman on the left, the person who’d spoken the directions, in growing horror. Her mind kept going through all the things they could truly be asking her to do. None of them calmed her.

  She’d been expecting something along the lines of the hazing she’d experienced in her sorority. She knew without reading the directions on the card that what the Council was asking her for was more in depth.

  “Are you up to the task, Ms. Brockman?” the second man asked softly.

  Scared as hell or not, Amelia knew she was going to complete the damned task. She’d worked too hard at JAK, Inc. to do anything else.

  She had to succeed.

  “Yes, your honour, I am.”

  “Good,” the masked vampire murmured. “By the end of the night you shall receive your treat. I promise it will be worth the ordeal. And more satisfying than you ever dreamed.”

  * * * *

  Less than thirty minutes later, Amelia pulled her car to the front gate of the infamous burial plot that housed the Bonacelli, Christensen, and Jovovich families among other famous preternaturals.

  It looked a thousand times more ominous than it had the one time she’d ventured to it. She’d gone to see the plot approximately six months after she discovered JAK, Inc.’s major secret. She’d felt obligated then. Apparently, it was good form to visit the graves of those who had started the company, especially since many of the founding vampires hibernated on the plot. Though it had been a hot, summer day, the sight of the burial ground with its large tombs, artistic sculptures and mausoleums had chilled her to the bone.

  “Damn,” she whispered savagely, as she reversed her car. It had occurred to her that parking right in front of the graveyard was not a good idea as it might alert people to the fact that she was inside.

  Amelia placed the car in park and breathed deeply, trying to calm her nerves. Think, think, she whispered to herself as she felt the beginnings of a panic attack tighten her muscles.

  “All you have to do is find the Wolf’s Cock and the Tiger’s Phallus,” she breathed out through shaky lips. The only thing keeping Amelia from putting her car in drive and bolting was that, according to the note, neither the cock nor phallus “lay with the dead”. Which meant that Amelia didn’t have to search any of the burial plots for them.

  Amelia pictured her goal—corner office with her name, an impressive title on the door and the chance to restructure the company’s marketing program.

  After taking a final deep breath she unlocked the door and
stepped out. She almost immediately regretted her determination. The autumn night was unseasonably cold and she was sorely undressed.

  “Son of a…” she cursed as she ran across the street to the burial ground’s gate. The outfit that had lay in the white box the Council gave her had consisted of little more than a few scraps of red fabric and a pair of strappy, red platforms. Once she was dressed, Amelia realised she looked like a very carnal depiction of Little Red Riding Hood, complete with a basket filled with sexual goodies.

  She might have bitten off more than she could chew.

  As Amelia strode towards the gate, she silently uttered prayers that the outfit was more for show than anything else. If she was supposed to get some guy hot and bothered, she was screwed.

  Five foot two, overweight, and plain, Amelia had never been the kind to turn on the opposite sex. All of her thoroughly disappointing sexual experiences had been the result of years of friendship that eventually went nowhere.

  “Please let the phalluses be made of plastic, or wood, or iron…just not flesh,” she whispered as she fished out the key that had been among the basket’s goodies. After a few seconds she had the graveyard gate open.

  Amelia discovered she was a lot more religious than she’d previously thought. As she prowled through the graveyard searching for anything remotely like a cock, she sent constant prayers to God.

  “Halt!”

  She froze at the sound of the loud, irritated masculine voice. Her body broke out into a quiver when the shout was followed by the heavy thud of footsteps. She panicked and took off, running as quickly as possible in her four-inch platforms.

  Amelia hadn’t considered there might be security guards at the burial ground. When the head priestess had told her she was to inform anyone she ran across that she sought the Wolf’s Cock and Tiger’s Phallus, she hadn’t actually believed she would meet anyone at the grave.