“You spied into my mind?!” Shamira felt numb. She was angry, and not only that he had seen those things, but that she was unable to deny anything.
“Yes. I am unable to avoid it during the process. Vampires are sexual creatures in the first place, and my line more so than most. So I felt your urges, and I also felt how you’ve denied yourself any of them. Why?”
“Why?! Because I’m not weak, that’s why! I have to be strong!”
“All the time?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, Jimmy Fisk dies!” She stopped, covering her mouth. She didn’t know why she’d said his name. She didn’t even like thinking it.
“Who –”
“None of your business,” she said shortly.
He nodded. Let her keep that secret. He had already unloaded a lot on her. But he had to set at least one thing straight. “Being a sexual submissive . . . having desires of the sort that you do, it doesn’t make you weak. Some of the toughest people I’ve ever known find pleasure at the end of the crop and the spur. It takes a strength that most cannot even imagine to place that kind of trust in someone else’s hands. Submissives have more power than you can imagine.”
“Regardless, I will never ask you to give up who you are. You are a strong woman with a desire to protect the world, and would never dream of asking you to stop. But you have needs, Shamira. I’m willing to bet that no man, or woman, has ever met them. How could they, when you refuse to even admit them? Unanswered desire will eat away at you, and make you wonder at the end of days if you truly lived the life you wanted. I’ve seen it happen, and would hate to see it happen to you.”
“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t.”
He frowned. “Now you’re just being difficult. So I’ll say this once and once only, and hopefully you’ll grow to believe and accept it. You are a beautiful and enticing woman, and everyone in my household agrees with me on that wholeheartedly. Yes, I want to see you in chains and bound in my dungeon. The very thought of it makes my blood boil in ways you can’t imagine.”
At that moment, Shamira COULD imagine. Oh, she could imagine very well.
Shane kept going. “I would make sure that every desire you had ever had would be fulfilled, and help you invent new ones. But I have never bribed, coerced, nor forced any man or woman into my chains or my bed, for that is indeed monstrous. If you chose to cut off that part of your life and your mind, I will not oppose you by force. You would not be able to live at the house, but I would still gladly ask that you be part of my organization. You have power, Shamira. That can’t be taken away from you.”
NP
He stood up. “I would like my keys back though. You stranded the others at Prometheus.” He smiled, but she didn’t smile back. She just handed over the keys. “I won’t ask that you make your decision now. You haven’t even really had a chance to get used to being a vampire yet, much less this other business. You are welcome to stay at the house while you figure things out. Talk to the others. They can help, and they want to. Clara has been sick with worry since you ran out.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “And if you think that I have unusual designs for you and your body, then you might want to ask her what SHE’S been thinking.” He got into his car and drove away.
Shamira shivered a bit, but not from the cold. Sure, Clara had made some “interesting” comments, but she had just assumed it was vampire freakiness. But she wanted Shamira too?
She took another look at her family home, then vanished into the shadows. She didn’t know where she was going, but felt a need to keep moving. She spent some time playing with her new power. She kept trying to extend her reach, and it helped to visualize things like Google Earth. The further she moved, the longer it took for the shadows to come into focus, but once they had she could go anywhere in the world. Keeping track of where things were was difficult, so she decided not to vanish up to New York City just to see if she could. She didn’t know if she’d be able to find her way back again.
And she did want to come back. For all its faults, Atlanta was her home. Her family was here. Her “maker” was here. She popped up to the top of the Bellsouth building and looked down on her city. Shane had been right about one thing. She could still protect them. Maybe she could stop the nightmares about Jimmy Fisk. She stretched her mind out and found Shane’s house.
Apparently, using her power that much took a lot of energy, and it was the only place she could think of to go. Part of her admitted that she wanted to go there. As freaky as they were, it was nice to feel “wanted”. But she couldn’t see the shadows in that house. It was like there was some kind of barrier around the property that obscured her sight. So she appeared in the trees nearby and walked in. She encountered several members of Shane’s human security, but none of them stopped her. She was about to put her hand on the front door when it came flying open and she was tackled by Clara Yellowtail. And the girl had one hell of a grip.
“You scared the crap out of me!” the Native American beauty said. She pulled back and gripped Shamira’s shoulders. “Don’t ever run off on me like that again!” She looked in the woman’s eyes to make sure she didn’t have a concussion or something. “What the hell was that? Whatever it was was really cool!” Then she pouted. This supposed badass domme was actually pouting. “It isn’t fair! Shane and Banshee were the only two that had Aspects before, and now you have two?”
“I guess,” Shamira said, a little confused but oddly happy at this reception, then shrugged.
“How did you do it?” Shane asked, approaching from his study. Several other residents approached, looking genuinely intrigued. Somehow they had all heard about what had happened at Prometheus. Shamira explained what is is that she had seen in that black-and-white world and how she had reached out to touch the dark parts.
“Interesting,” Shane said. He’d wanted to ask about that earlier, but defusing her volatile temperament had seemed more pressing at the time. “You’re a Shadow Jumper AND a Shadow Healer. The dark is destined to be your friend it seems.”
“Shadow Jumper? That’s what they call it?”
“Indeed, and it’s even more rare than Shadow Healing. You are connected to the world of shadows it seems. Normally vampires who are shadows, meaning at least two-hundred years old, don’t have that kind of power. Actually, most full-fledge vampires are lucky to have developed two Aspects. Have you figured out how far you can travel yet?”
“I . . . I guess I can see shadows all over the world. I just can’t always connect them to what they belong to.”
“Bitch!” Monique said, leaning in a doorway. “You mean you could just pop off to Paris or Venice or the Bahamas just like that?” she asked, snapping her fingers.
“I guess. But I couldn’t get in here though,” Shamira replied.
“Okay, so the wards work against Shadow-jumpers,” Clara muttered. “Lillian and I will make sure the wards . . . magical protections,” she said by way of explanation, “recognize you. Hopefully that means you’ll be able to come and go at will. Can you take things with you?”
Shamira shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know it gets tiring, especially if I try and cross long distances.”
Shane nodded. “With your permission, I’d like to run you through a set of drills this evening after you’ve gotten some rest. Strength, endurance think of it as your physical at work. It will give us a chance to test some of the limits of your Aspects as well.”
“Not the healing one, will we? I’d rather not have you shooting me just for the heck of it.”
He smiled. “I think we can hold off on more serious tests of your healing abilities until you’re a little more comfortable.” He turned to Clara. “I think our guest might like to pick up some things. Take her shopping this evening, but get her back by ten p. m. or so.” Monique and Lillian both raised their hands, causing Shane to sigh. “Yes, you can go too.”
Not that they actually needed permission. They each had house credit cards. They just liked to give him warning that they were going to spend a large pile of his money. Oh well. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have plenty. He watched as Shamira shyly made her way back to the room where she would be staying. He thought it odd that she was handling becoming a vampire better than she was being around his cadre of BDSM employees.
He wondered what she would be like if she simply let herself go and experience those things she was afraid of, things she thought made her weak. If she did, then Shane would be there to bathe in the heat of her being. Deep in his bones and blood, he knew that Shamira Carswell was just touching the edges of everything that she could be. He only wished that she saw in herself what those around her had already identified.
————– ————–
The next evening . . .
————– ————–
Shamira had never been a big shopper before, much less closed down the mall. It seemed that her traveling companions were more than used to it. She learned some things about them, such as the fact that Lillian and Monique had both once been swimsuit models as well as lovers. Lillian had taken up the art of necromancy when she was younger, but kept it relatively in the background until the night that she and Monique had been attacked by a rogue werewolf while walking through the woods in Northern Georgia.
The wolf hadn’t realized that necromancy was a potent magic, as Lillian had sucked the life energy right out of him before managing to kill him with the animated skeleton of a ten-point buck. But Monique had already been bitten, so Lillian had to keep her lover alive and help her adjust to the new world she had entered. Shane had heard of the incident and was impressed by Lillian’s will and reserve and had brought them both on board.
Clara had been living on a reservation some 62 years earlier when she had caught Shane’s attention. She’d been an orphan who was very vocally active in pursuing rights for Native Americans as well as homosexuals, and this at a time where just saying the word “gay” could get one lynched. She had actually been told about the world of magical beings by Shane and was then given a choice. Having no family to leave behind, she had embraced the offer, learning everything that Shane had to teach her.
The four women were sitting in the food court, each with a mountain of bags. Shamira was actually embarrassed at her foray into consumerism, as well as by some of the items in her bags. She had been somewhat overwhelmed by the other three, who had decided to give her a makeover.
Before even going to the mall, they had hit a high-class salon in downtown Atlanta, where Shamira was waxed, massaged, and generally pampered. It was good to know that massages felt good even when one was dead. This salon was apparently privy to the secrets of the night breeds. Then they had invaded the Mall of Georgia like a plague of locusts, devouring helpless salespeople alive in a purchasing frenzy.