Misery by M. Garnet Page A

against her tight jeans. She felt a rush. All of a sudden she knew she was going to have a orgasm. She gasped for breath, bringing her knees up. She slipped over that point, one that she had not ridden very often, one she never rode alone. She saw color behind her closed eyes as she fell back. The release finally relaxed her muscles. She let go of the blanket. She lay there feeling the sweat on her body turn cold.
    She opened her eyes. He was still just sitting there looking at her. No expression on that stone face.
    “What the hell was that?” She lay back exhausted as she rasped out at him.
    “What you requested. Proof.”
    She just lay back looking at him. This all couldn’t be real. “Don’t do that again.” She glared at him. She didn’t care that he was twice her size — she wanted to kick him in the balls.

Chapter Seven
    He left her in the bed, knowing she was angry, the red emitting towards him. It was strange that he even enjoyed the anger. He enjoyed any emotion she sent out. He thought it was because he knew others did not receive her emotions. Others might receive her scent, but he was the only one that received her emotions. He had lived without emotions for so long, but now he had hers.
    He had meant to give her an emotion that would be something besides anger. Sex was the next thing he had thought of, but it had hit her so solidly that she threw off the sexual emotion like a hot flow of lava. Her scent rolled out into the room between the color of her arousal. Her scent made him feel his own body react. He was not used to having an erection for no reason. In the compound, they had brought the mortal females in. They were already influenced and they were used. Sometimes he did not need one, sometimes after a fight he came in, his erection leading him. No one stopped him until he had grabbed a female and entered her. But what he was feeling now, from the emotion of satisfaction she had thrown out as she climaxed, was different. He wanted to have her push that feeling out as he pushed into her.
    He went down to the sidewalk to call his Lord. “Alex, I have much to report.”
    “Deck, you caught me at the right time, I am at a point where I can listen, so bring me up to date. Did you get a blood sample?”
    “Yes, sire.”
    “Good, I will send someone for retrieval. It will be Trump. He is available. You know him. What can you tell me about the female?”
    Deck thought carefully. “She is like a warrior. Quick of mind. She knows I am nightwalker and did not panic. She was attacked. I dusted, then cleaned up. I cannot influence but I can emote and receive her emotions.”
    * * * *
    Alex listened to the short precise words of the loyal servant that he had become to call friend. He listened, interpreting all the report. She was stronger than most mortal females, so she kept herself in shape. She had fought back at one time or another either with strength or mind. She had another nightwalker get on her scent and he attacked her, probably hurt her. Decimus caught the attacker, putting him down in the proper manner. Deck had disposed of all details so no mortal would see any residue. He had gotten the blood that was vital to finding out if her serum reflected what her scent seemed to show.
    Now, about the emotions. Deck had come from a horrible background that had been meant to trample the emotions out of the individual. Alex remembered his first trip to the training camp. He had taken Minty.
    Minty and he both had a dark side. They were into S&M. But what they saw in the camp turned both their stomachs. It wasn’t only the filth or the injuries. It was the children, the many useless deaths. It was the evidence of the mistreatment in order to remove any feelings of tenderness or love. It was meant to wipe out any tender thought for another. The scars on the bodies of the living warriors were only the ones you could see, the scars on the minds were the dangerous ones that couldn’t be stitched and