Dark and Light - Evangeline Anderson Page 0,63

buried the need deep down, where no one can see it but me.”

“You…you’re lying,” she whispered.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we? We’ll see if you get wet when I discipline you.” He shrugged, his broad, muscular shoulders rolling with the movement.

He wore all black, she noted, from the sleeveless vest that covered his muscular torso to the black leather trousers and the tall black boots that completed his monochrome look. His outfit looked especially severe next to her own silky nightshirt.

“You can’t just…” Alli couldn’t go on. She shook her head.

“We’ll see,” he repeated and gave her another cruel smile.

He was maneuvering the small ship they were in towards a much larger one—a floating fortress circling the Earth like a dark asteroid.

For a moment, the little ship looked like it was going to crash against the side of the vast structure. But just as Alli felt her heart jump up into her throat, a silver fissure opened in the side of the fortress and they flew right into it.

The small ship came to a stop in a large, dark hangar. The man parked it beside two other similar craft and killed the engine. Then he turned to Alli.

“Welcome,” he murmured, “To my Palace of Shadows.”

“Palace of Shadows?” Alli looked around as he stepped out and came around to open her door. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her down from the ship lightly, as though she weighed no more than a doll—though this was most definitely not the case as Alli knew. Was this where the dreams she’d been having of him had been set?

“This is the setting of the dreams we shared,” he acknowledged. “I had to bring you here until I found out where you were. I knew you weren’t from my Earth—the concubines there are dull and spiritless. But you, Allisandra—you have fire in you. I knew I wanted to taste that fire the moment my mind found yours.”

There was so much there to unpack Alli hardly knew where to start.

“Concubines?” she asked at last, repeating the strange word he had used.

The man nodded.

“My kind—the Kru’ell Ones—don’t take brides like other Kindred do. We only take concubines—sometimes for days or weeks at a time. We taste them until we are satiated with them, and then send them back where they came from.”

“But…why?” Alli shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand, Allisandra—just obey.” There was steel in his gravelly voice and the menace in his tone was unmistakable. “Now come with me—I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Alli followed him out of the vast black hangar down a long, marble corridor. He led her through an immense, echoing room she recognized as the place in the dream they had always met.

In the dreams, the room was always empty except for the shadows. But now that she could see it in person, Alli saw that it wasn’t empty after all. It was filled with equipment—equipment with wooden frames and leather parts and silver chains.

There was a long, padded bench with manacles attached to either end. Beside it was a whipping post. To the right of that was a vast rack filled with many, many, many instruments of corporal punishment. Alli’s eyes widened as she saw paddles and whips, floggers, and crops.

The man must have seen her staring because he gave her an amused smirk.

“Don’t worry, baby—remember I told you I’ll only punish you as much as you want to be punished.”

That wasn’t precisely what he had said, but Alli couldn’t remember his exact words at the moment. She was too busy nearly hyperventilating at the scary display of bondage and punishment gear.

“Come.” he motioned at her impatiently.

Alli realized she had come to a halt, staring at the paraphernalia—there was much more of it than she had originally seen and some of it she had no names for. Somehow, she couldn’t get her legs to move.

“Come,” he said again. He took her hand and led her through the vast, echoing room and down another long hallway.

There was plush gray carpeting on the floor, so soft it felt amazingly soothing on her bare feet. Speaking of being bare, she wished she had on more than just the silky nightshirt she’d gone to bed in. She would much rather have been dressed in one of her business suits as though she was going to court—it would have made her feel more in control of the situation.

“But you’re not in control, Allisandra,” the man rumbled, looking down at

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