Boneshaker

Another hard slap and another delicious twist of his fingers made her writhe beneath his touch. She was panting softly now, her body silently begging for more.

"Like this, do you?" Another slap and tease made her squirm.

Swallowing, Claire nodded, her fingers clawing at the cold stone floor for support.

"Will you ever do that again?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Do you promise?" Another round drew a soft moan from her throat.

"I promise," she whispered.

"Good girl."

His fingers slid deep inside her, twisting and rubbing the warm, slick walls of her pussy. This time Darrow didn't pull away to spank her. Instead, he continued his delicious massaging, twisting his fingers and coaxing a litany of soft moans and whimpers from her throat.

He laughed again. "You love this, don't you?"

"Yes," she gasped.

His fingers stopped abruptly. He pulled out of her body and toyed with her entrance. She moaned, begging him for more, her body burning for his touch.

"I don't know, Claire. You upset me with the damn trick of yours." His drummed the fingers of his free hand on the small of her back. "I'm debating even letting you come. I'm not sure if you deserve it."

She groaned, exhausted, and tried to arch her hips against his hand to force him in. He laughed and pulled his hand back. She whimpered again. Damn him. Her body was on fire now, anticipation and need coiling tight in her belly.

"Please," she begged.

"Hmm? I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that."

She exhaled sharply, on the verge of losing her mind. "Darrow, please."

"I'm still not convinced you've earned this, Claire."

"That's not fair!"

"When did I ever say I played fair?" She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Darrow!" Her body ached for his touch, her sex clenching so hard it almost hurt.

His laughter echoed through the hall. "Very well."

His fingers sank deep once again, relieving her body of her hollow emptiness. She moaned his name, her body arching in response. A shiver ran up her spine as he teased her again. God, he could make her squirm. Silthos had amazing techniques and Thaltos had more than enough control, but Darrow could make her scream like no one could.

"You look so lovely here, Claire. I rather like this position for you." His free hand stroked her back. "Perhaps we should introduce Silthos and Thaltos to this. They may enjoy it, too."

She dropped her head and closed her eyes, savoring the feel of every thrust and pull of his wonderful fingers. Another shiver rocked her body. Her fingers trembled and her blood pounded in her ears. She moaned his name again, begging him to continue.

Her body finally surrendered, tensing and shivering as she closed her eyes and screamed his name. Her pussy convulsed around his fingers, holding him tight and never letting go. Beads of sweat shimmered on her back, her breasts now full and aching. Slowly, very slowly, she drifted back down to earth, her famished body now fully stated.

She relaxed into his lap, panting out exhausted. She closed her eyes and nuzzled his thigh with her cheek. His hand stroked the curve of her ass, easing her descent back into reality.

"I must say, Claire. That was one of the best views I've ever had of you." His voice was light again, playful as always.

"Hmmm." It was all she could manage.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, then frowned. "Yes, I'm fine. But you made me too tired to do I had planned for you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Claire." His hand stroked the length of her back. "I'm sure it was something heartfelt and very special."

"It was a striptease," she whispered.

"Damn." He growled quietly to himself. "Well, I...do you suppose you could perform it later?" His voice was soft, pleading.

"Of course. But you've exhausted me and I don't perform well when I'm tired."

"Thank you," he purred.

She smiled and settled into him, reveling in the aftershock of her climax mixing with his wonderful caress. She wondered how Thaltos and Silthos were. Probably still asleep, she guessed. Maybe she could show them all her little dance when they'd woken up. She'd have to practice first. Dancing was never her strong suit. The last time she'd tried, she nearly knocked over her grandmother's ceramic vase. Dancing was banned from the house after that.

The wind whistled softly through the hallway, its soft breeze cooling the sweat on her back. She glanced up to watch a handful of intricately patterned strands of webbing float by, twirling and twisting in the air. The thought remaindered her of the small spider in her room, of Kerion, of the apology she had to make.

"Oh." She placed her hands against the floor, pushed herself up and slid off his lap.

"What? What is it?" Darrow stared at her with wounded eyes. "Did I actually-"

Claire shook her head. "No. I have to see Kerion. His family saved me and I need to thank them."

"Oh, I see."

Darrow stood and offered his hand. She smiled up at him and gripped his wrist, letting him haul her to her feet.

"I don't know where they are." She chewed her lip anxiously as she peered down the hall.

"Would you like me to walk with you?"

"No. I'll be fine."

His expression turned worried for an instant. He managed to swallow his fear and stretched out one thick arm to point down the hallway.

"They live in the shadowed corridors off the main hall." He stretched out one long arm and pointed down the hall. "If you walk all the way down, you'll reach a dead end with two halls branching off to either side. Take the right hall and go until the end. You'll see his web covering the whole wall."

She stood on her toes and kissed him, cupping his face in her hands when she pulled back. "I'll be fine, I promise. Go back to bed. I'll give you your prize when I get back."

His eyes lit up as his face split with his grin. "Yes ma'am." He stepped back, slowly making his way towards their room. "Are you sure you don't want me to come?"

She shook her head and smiled.

He shrugged and stepped into the shadows. "Don't take too long, Claire." His grin was devilish.

She smiled back, and spun on her heels, looking over her shoulder to blow him a kiss.

He grinned back and bowed his head, slipping into the shadows and out of sight.

She smiled one last time before making her way down the vast hallway. It was still deserted despite the fact that the lockdown was long over. Still, not a soul accompanied her down the vast corridor, and she walked in silence, lost in her own musings of her dance.

Minutes – or hours, she couldn't tell which – passed as she walked. Her eyes slid to the swamp, and she stopped in her tracks. Curiously devoid of any trace of silver or cold, she could clearly see the shadows of souls as they made their way across the marsh. Among the shadow, the wizened form of the old woman could be seen, hobbling along as she walked in endless circles.

A flash of memory erupted into her mind - scenes of the woman's face, horrified, bruised and covered in blood, staring up at her as she rained blows onto her cheeks. Gasping, Claire stumbled back and shook her head, tears pricking her eyes.

"Oh, no. No, no, no!"

She watched the old woman as she circled back around, anger and disgust crushing her heart. Howcouldshe? That poor woman. To be attacked so viciously by her friend. Guilt nearly suffocated her. Losing any regard for her safety or fear of the marsh, Claire rushed forward and hauled herself over the wall.

She raced across the soft peat of the bog, tears streaming from her eyes. How could she do such a thing, even while under that evil spell? She should be here, not the old woman. She deserved it more.

The woman noticed her as she made her next round. Before she could react, Claire plowed into her and knocked her to the ground. Burying her face in the warm fabric of the grandmother's dress, Claire cried out her sorrow and anger, screaming unintelligible apologies through her tears.

The old woman's fingers twisted into her hair, stroking her as she whispered soft words of comfort. Claire continued to cry, still babbling broken pieces of apologies. Other souls turned to watch the spectacle. Those who had witnessed her uncontrolled attack knelt down and stroked her skin, wanting to help the girl who had offered them comfort. They stroked her back, offering calming sentiments to soothe her damaged heart.

The old woman continued to stroke her fingers through her hair, whispering into her ear. Claire's tears slowly started to dry, her breathing becoming more stable. Gently she pulled away, sitting back so the woman could push herself up. They stared at each other for a moment, neither making a sound. A small smile cracking her winkled face, the woman stretched out one withered hand to stroke her face. Claire flinched away, turning her head to hide the last remains of tears. The woman hesitated for a moment, then smiled and cupped her cheek, stroking her skin with her thumb.

"Claire," she whispered. Her voice was raspy but warm, like her grandfather's before he passed away, mixed with a heavy English accent.

Claire turned to face her, wiping away the last of her tears from her face.

The woman smiled wider. "'Twas my name once, long ago. Before I passed and fell into this miserable place."

She swallowed. "Your name was Claire?"

The woman nodded. "Claire Harden. Born in London, England in the summer of 1794. My parents were Christian and Victoria."

"Claire Harding. I was born in St. Louis, Missouri in 1994. My mom is Christina and my dad is Victor."

She paused. Harden and Harding. 1794 and 1994. Victor, Victoria. Christian, Christina.

Impossible.

The similarity was hard to ignore. Their eyes were the same soft grey, their skins the same porcelain color. The two of them shared high cheekbones, full lips and straight noses. One had short chestnut hair; the other's had turned grey long ago. A feeling of shock settled into her gut as she stared open-mouthed at this mystery woman. Though, she wasn't so mysterious anymore...

Holy shit. I'm her.

"I knew you the instant I saw you drop the grape into my hands, dear girl." Her thumb continued to stroke her skin. "I saw myself in you. That same warm smile, that same fighting spirit. I knew you before we'd even met."

"Holy fuck," she whispered. Claire's head began to spin. "Iamyou?"

"Not quite, my dear. A new idea of me. I never feel in love with demons or had to fight that damned cloud. But I did have parents who sold me off and a grandmother that despised me."

Holy double fuck.

Warm hands cupped her face. "You listen to me. I have never faulted you for the attack you made. I have never doubted you for anything you've ever done. Your love for those demons, your encounter with Tarrin, your sacrifice to save them. I've never judged you for anything because I know I would have done the same. But you're beginning to doubt yourself. I can see it."

Claire chewed her lip and looked away.

"You mustn't do that. You must keep your eyes up," she snapped her fingers to regain Claire's attention, "and your heart strong. Once you doubt yourself, once you give into that self-loathing and sorrow, you'll never come out. I watched my own son fall into that same trap. I watched him kill himself. You must never,neverdo that, Claire. No matter the pain or exhaustion you feel. You mustn't."

She nodded, fear and anxiety pooling in her gut. This woman, the woman that shared so much with her, knew something was going to happen as clearly as she did.

"Promise me you'll never leave them." The old woman stared into her eyes.

She nodded again. "I swear."

"Good." The old woman smiled. "Now, hold your chin up, keep your eyes open and your heart steady."

Claire smiled back. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now go. I believe you have someone to thank?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

God, that's uncanny.

Nodding, Claire hauled herself up from the ground, extending an arm out to her predecessor. The old woman smiled and grapes her hand, carefully hauling herself from the soft earth. They grinned at each other, a shared spark in their grey eyes. She had the strength now, the self-confidence and resilience she needed to handle whatever threat came her way. She would see Kerion first and handle her apology, then go home to her lovers and. She could handle herself here.

Still, she would have to leave her new friend – indeed, her old self – behind. Claire's smile faltered an inch.

"I don't want to leave you behind."

The old woman shook her head. "Don't you worry about me. I can handle myself."

"You're sure?" She chewed her lip worriedly.

"My dear girl! I am as much you as you are me. You should know I'll be alright." Her grey eyes shined.

Claire nodded, still chewing her lip. The old woman grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, giving her a gentle shove towards the wall.

"Go, child. And hurry. The mist is gone from here, no doubt seeking you out. The quicker you see Kerion, the safer you'll be."

"What?" Claire spun around. "What do you mean it'sgone?"

The woman shrugged her bony shoulders. "No one has seen it for hours. It must have moved past the barrier and into your part of this world."

"But it can't move past the wall!" she cried. Fear started to boil in her gut.

"Not in its vaporous form, it can't. But the mist is tricky. You've seen the magic and the power that swirl around inside. I'm sure it can change its form to hide itself from the guards."

Oh no. Darrow! It knows where they are!

Her stomach dropped to her feet. "Shit. It knows where we live!"

The old woman's eyes widened. She spun Claire around again and began shoving her towards the wall. "Then go to Kerion and warn him. Tell him the mist has used its magic and gotten loose it's hunting you now, and it won't top until it breaks you completely. We'll send a guard to warn your lovers. Go, Claire!"

With one last shove, Claire took off running towards the wall. Panic and anger fueled her run, pushing her faster than usual. She flew across the bog, barely feeling the ground beneath her feet. Reaching the wall, her fingers dug into the cracks in the stones, all the strength in her slender arms combining to haul her up. She tumbled over the edge, landing on shaky feet as she straightened herself. Taking one quick breath to find her center and reset her motives, Claire turned and raced down the hallway to find Kerion.

The hall remained empty through her run. In the back of her mind, she wondered vaguely if the absence of life had more to do with the mist's escape than a miscommunication about the lockdown.

Reaching the end of the main hall, she veered right and continued down the cavernous branch of corridor. Her lungs ached, her legs burned. But she'd be damned if she stopped. Shehadto find Kerion, had to warn him about the mist, had to save her lovers.

She followed the endless curves of the hall, sliding on the tiled floor every time she made a turn. She ran on, never slowing her pace and never looking away from her darkness before her. She noticed the floors and wall of this corridor were chipped and broken from years of neglect. Clearly, Kerion's home wasn't used much.

"Claire!"

She turned to spy the old woman, her ancestor, standing in the middle of the bog, waving to her.

"We've sent the guards! Your lovers have been warned."

She nodded and picked up her pace, returning her gaze to the darkness ahead. Good. They'd be safe for now. All she had to do was find Kerion and warn him about the mist and she'd be home free.

Still running at full speed, she took the final corner too fast. Without watching her footing, she slammed into a wall of muscle and skin. Strangely, the barrier was cloaked in ink-black feathers. She bounced back from the collision, landing hard on the floor with her head spinning.

What the fuck was that?

Se shook her head to clear it, still unsure of what she had run into.

"Ah! Claire!" Kerion's warm voice drew her back to her senses.

She looked up to see him carefully making his way over to her, his eight legs treading cautiously over the broken stones of the floor. He stopped only inched from her, numerous eyes alight with joy and concern.

"My dear, are you alright?" One slender leg stretched out towards her, offering a handhold to pull her up.

She nodded and griped his leg, pulling herself to her feet. She rubbed her bottom, wincing in pain. "I was trying to find you when I ran into something-"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Kerion cried joyfully. "I meant to introduce you eventually. Claire, this is Lucifer, the ruler of our lovely realm."

Her stomach did a back flip and landed on its head. Lucifer! She was fucked now. Trembling, she looked over to stare at the creature she had unfortunately crashed into.

The fallen angel stood silent, leaning against the nearest wall, arms folded over his chest and regarding her silently. He was bigger than she'd expected, at least a foot taller than she was, with muscular arms, a powerful chest and a strongly defined abdomen. Gold-toned flesh glowed in the soft light of the sconces. Enormous ink-black wings were folded against his back, the tips flaring out on the stone floor behind him. The lines of his face were so sharp, so severely cut, she wondered if he could be touched without drawing blood. Eyes made of liquid gold burned into her, making her squirm in her own skin.

Oh no.

Those eyes narrowed at her for an instant before sliding to Kerion. "This is the girl?" His voice was beyond beautiful. Dark, rich and deep, it promised delicious secrets and sinful desires.

The enormous spider nodded. "Yes. This is the one."

Lucifer's gaze found her again. "Interesting. She doesn't seem like much."

"Yes, I know. But from what Tarrin's told me, she possesses the gift of reading the mist before it makes a move."

Gold eyes widened a millimeter. "She can read it?"

"Yes, sir."

A slow, sinister smile spread onto Lucifer's perfectly sculpted lips. She shivered inside herself. Of all the religious bullcrap her grandmother had shoved into her head, this fallen angel was the one story she never doubted. Hell's master terrified her more than the mist ever could.

"Very interesting, Indeed," he whispered.

His eyes burned into her, making her head swim and her limbs go numb. Fear mixed with arousal deep in her gut. Her grandmother had warned her that he was a dangerous lure, fatal even. She had to keep her distance from him, or else she'd be pulled into his wicked traps. But her body burned suddenly, and she found herself wishing to feel his beautiful wings. Oh, if she could just touch those lips...

"Claire, what on earth are you doing back here?" Kerion's voice mercifully caught her attention. She noticed Lucifer's faded instantly, annoyed her attention was now directed elsewhere.

She shook her head again, turning to face the old spider. "I came to warn you."

Kerion cocked his head. "Warn me about what?"

"The mist."

Kerion laughed. "My dear, the mist has been handled. It's been contained far stricter than ever before. There's no need to worry now, you'll be safe here."

She shook her head. "No, you don't understand one of the souls in the marsh, she told me-"

"You went into the marsh? Claire! The mist is in there! That's suicide!" Kerion's eyes narrowed at her in frustration.

"No, Kerion. Listen, I-"

"My children went into the cursed bog to save you once, and now you go back?! Why?"

"I needed to see someone. Now, please, Kerion."

"Of all the foolish, idiotic things you could do, Claire!" Kerion's front legs rose up in anger. "Even Tarrin helped, and you go back into that damned marsh. I cannot believe that you would so something so arrogant and dangerous. My, God, Claire! We-"