Dark Dream’s Trap Page 5

  Perhaps she shouldn’t pursue nursing as her profession. It seemed as if her natural talents were better suited for something else.

  Ella Takala, Director of Save the Girls was a much more appealing title than Ella Takala, Nurse Practitioner.

  “One day I want to sit down with you and have you explain how the entire thing works. But I have to go now.”

  “Good luck. I wish I could be there to support you.”

  “I know. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.”

  The truth was that she preferred it that way and was thankful for the excuse of males not being allowed in the sanctuary. Regrettably, the same didn’t apply to Vivian, and asking her not to come had been difficult. Her mother had shed a few tears, then nodded, saying that she understood.

  Ella was going to bare her soul, but it was in front of others who’d gone through similar experiences.

  There was no way she could have her mother or Julian present. Having them listening to her story would have influenced how she told it. Not because she wanted to hide things from them or make it less embarrassing for herself, but because she would have known how difficult it was for them to hear it, and instinctively she would have modified her story to make it more palatable.

  That would have been counterproductive to say the least. The girls needed to hear her talk about her feelings and identify with her. Only then would they consider following her example and telling their own stories on camera.

  Julian was still going to hear it when they worked on the editing, but maybe it wouldn’t be as bad for him if she held his hand through it.

  When the dining hall was full and everyone was seated, Ella addressed her audience.

  “Many of you already know what this is about, but for those who don’t I’m going to explain. Just like you, I was lured into a trap, sold, and violated. My story is not as horrific as some I’ve heard here. In fact, it’s pretty mild in comparison.”

  She motioned to the camera and the white backdrop. “I’m going to talk about it on camera, and my friend Tessa is going to record it. The recording is going to be in silhouette, so no one can recognize me, and I’m even going to change my voice. Later, we are going to edit it so it’s impactful enough to put on YouTube.”

  When murmurs started, she lifted a hand and waited until everyone hushed down. “It will serve two purposes. One is for the fundraiser that is going to provide money for more centers like this one and for transition places that are going to ease your re-entrance into society. The second purpose of these videos is to serve as a warning to all the unsuspecting girls out there and their families. We will tell them what to watch out for, and how to recognize the warning signs.”

  Ella paused, took in a breath, and then continued. “If any of you feel like this is too much for you, please don’t feel bad about leaving. I know that I would not have been able to sit and listen to a story like mine right after being rescued. All I wanted to do was to forget. But then I realized that by hiding my head in the sand I was helping out the monsters. As long as this is swept under the rug of society, as long as people believe that this cannot happen to them, the monsters are going to keep winning.”

  She glanced at Vanessa, who nodded her approval. “We can make it harder for them. By telling our stories, we will warn others, raise public awareness to the atrocities being committed under their noses, and hopefully raise shitloads of money so we can help rescue and rehabilitate more girls.”

  When Ella was done, one of the queen bees started clapping, and a moment later the entire room erupted in applause.

  Only one girl slunk out of the room.

  Sucking in a long breath, Ella let it out through pursed lips. It was show time.

  Raising her hands, she waited until the applause died out. “I need to ask you a favor. This is going to be as hard as chomping on broken glass, and I would hate to do it twice. Please try to be as quiet as possible until I’m done.”

  11

  Julian

  As Julian knocked on Ella’s front door, he clutched the brand new box of Godiva chocolates he’d bought on the way home as if it were a precious miracle elixir for curing heavy hearts.

  Not that he knew for a fact that her heart was heavy, but he assumed it was. It must’ve been so difficult for her to tell her story in front of a room full of people, despite all of them except for Vanessa being sisters in pain.

  She’d sounded tired when he’d called her, not depressed, but Ella was very good at fronting strength she didn’t possess. Hopefully, he knew her well enough by now to see through that façade.

  Opening the door, she smiled at him, and then she saw the box. “Oh, Julian. This is exactly what I need.” She reached for the chocolates. “Give it.”

  When he’d bought the box, he’d envisioned asking Ella for a kiss before handing them over, but her feral expression convinced him to reconsider. Ella didn’t seem in the mood to tolerate teasing.

  She was tearing the wrapping while closing the door behind him.

  “Hi, Julian,” Vivian said. “Would you like to eat something? I can warm up a plate for you.”

  “No, thanks. I’ve eaten.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “For me too,” Ella mumbled around a chocolate.

  Magnus chuckled. “That girl has a serious problem.”

  There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room stared at him.

  Raising his hands in the air, Magnus shook his head. “I meant your addiction to chocolate. You’re not an immortal yet, Ella. Those can’t be good for you.”

  Julian cleared his throat. “Actually, chocolate has many health benefits if eaten in moderation. It has a positive influence on cognitive function, lowers bad cholesterol, and reduces the risk of irregular heartbeat.”

  “I just love it when you geek out like that.” Ella wrapped her arm around his waist. “At least you say those things in a language people can understand.”

  “You didn’t pay attention to the moderation clause,” Magnus said.

  Ella waved a dismissive hand. “Overindulgence is okay in emergencies.”

  That shut the Guardian up as if someone had stuck a shoe in his mouth. Turning on his heel, he beat feet after Vivian to the kitchen.

  “Come on.” Ella led Julian to the dining room table. “I brought my laptop out here so we’ll have plenty of room.” She winked at him.

  He sat down and waited for her to join him. “How did the presentation go?” When he’d called earlier, she’d only said that it had gone fine without giving him any details.

  “It was as good as can be expected from an unscripted and unrehearsed telling of a traumatic experience. It needs a lot of editing work, but it had the effect I anticipated. I have four volunteers for tomorrow. But I’ll probably only manage two. I was surprised at how long it took me to tell my story. By the time I was done, my mouth was all dried out. I didn’t think about bringing a water bottle with me. And I cried a few times and had to compose myself.”

  His heart felt like it was about the crack, but all he could do was clasp her hand. “You are so brave, baby.”

  She waved a hand. “The crying was good too. It made the whole thing more convincing.”

  Right, as if she’d done it on purpose.

  “What did you do? Did you ask for volunteers after you were done?”

  “Not right away. I could see the indecision on their faces, so I added that they will be able to edit their stories after the filming and cut out things they were uncomfortable with. And that after that we will edit them further. Naturally, I didn’t elaborate that my editing assistant was a guy. Anyway, that seemed to reassure them, and that was when I asked for volunteers.”

  “Good thinking. What did Vanessa have to say?”

  Ella grinned. “She was all over herself about how wonderful I did and how proud she was of me. She said I was an inspiration.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I hope y
ou didn’t cancel your appointment with her tomorrow.”

  She huffed. “I did not. Only because of you, though. You should have seen Vanessa’s face when I admitted to having been violated. She had tears in her eyes, and they weren’t the sad kind. She looked so happy that I finally saw reason that I didn’t want to spoil it for her and tell her that it was your doing.”

  Even though Ella was making it sound as if she was going to therapy just to please him, the vise around Julian’s heart was starting to ease. Mainly because it seemed that telling her story had been therapeutic for her, and not traumatic like he’d feared.

  As Vivian put the tray on the table, she seemed surprised that they were still there. “You can take the cups with you if you want.”

  Ella looked up at her mother. “We are going to work here, if you don’t mind. I only have one chair in my room.”

  As Magnus and Vivian exchanged glances, the Guardian shrugged. “We can watch a movie in our bedroom so you can work in peace. Are you filling out the application for Georgetown?”

  “Yes, and several other places in case Mr. D checks.” Ella looked at Julian and smirked. “Roni gave me a stellar transcript. I feel so much smarter all of a sudden.”

  “You are smart,” her mother said.

  “I concur.” Julian pulled out the folded printouts he’d brought along. “I saved my application essays. You can use them as a sample for yours.”

  “That’s good. I had no idea where to start.”

  “Good night, kids,” Vivian said. “And good luck with the applications.”

  “Thanks.” Ella sent her an air kiss.

  When they were alone, Julian chuckled. “So much for our plan. They couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

  “It’s still a good plan. Parker comes out every twenty minutes or so to get a snack or something to drink.”

  Julian waggled his brows. “A lot of things can happen in twenty minutes.”

  “Yeah, we can fill out half of an application.”

  12

  Bridget

  After stowing the quilt in the overhead compartment, Bridget got comfy in her seat and glanced at the curtain separating the cabin from the bathroom area. She had fond memories from the last time she and Turner had flown first class.

  “Not as nice as the clan’s jet,” Turner said. “I wish Charlie could have waited for us.”

  “I disagree. We needed the jet to deliver the artifact safely. The one we are taking back is not worth nearly as much, but it’s dear to me and valuable in other ways.”

  The quilt was pricey, but the information they’d gotten while purchasing it was priceless. With Turner’s resources, Bridget had no doubt he would locate Roni’s grandmother, or Melinda as she’d been calling herself five years ago.

  The only problem was that the information was old, and the woman might have changed her name again, or she might have stopped selling her mandala quilts online. The first was likely, the second not so much. First of all because it seemed to be a passion of hers, and secondly, she probably supported herself selling the quilts. The beauty of it was that she could do it from anywhere in the world, using the internet to promote her creations.

  Unless something spooked her, she was going to keep on doing it.

  “Would you like a drink, Ms?” the stewardess asked.

  “Yes, I would. A Bloody Mary, please.”

  “And for you, sir?”

  “Scotch, please.”

  “On the rocks?”

  “Neat, thank you.”

  Leaning over the bulky armrests, Bridget whispered in Turner’s ear. “There are advantages to flying first class commercial. Unlike the jet, you get a stewardess to serve you drinks and meals, and the facilities are roomier.”

  Her guy was bright, and it didn’t take much for him to catch her drift.

  With a sly smirk, his eyes darted to the half-closed curtain. “You have a point. Is that why you booked the redeye?”

  “It didn’t even cross my mind. I just wanted us to have the entire day to enjoy in Miami. The curtain brought back pleasant memories.”

  “Do you want me to perform reconnaissance?”

  “Of course. Each model of aircraft is different.”

  Releasing his safety belt, Turner jumped up to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Bridget wondered how different it would be this time around. Turner was an immortal now, stronger and more nimble. Not that he hadn’t been so as a human. He’d kept himself in excellent shape. Still, nothing could beat the fountain of youth that came with immortality.

  Coming out, he smiled at the stewardess as he passed by her and then took his seat next to Bridget. “It’s tight, but we can manage just as we did before.”

  “I can’t wait,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Patience, love. We need to wait for the meal to be served and then for the lights to be turned down.”

  She was patient as a doctor, somewhat less as an administrator, and not at all as a woman. Especially when vivid memories of their initiation into the mile-high club were flashing through her mind. Just thinking about what they were about to do had her nipples contract painfully and her core tingle.

  She used to hate moments like that, when her arousal flared in response to some trigger and she had to find a random hookup to sate her hunger. It had felt like a chore, like having to grab something to eat while pressed for time. She needed the sustenance, couldn’t go on without it, but hated to take a break for it, and hadn’t enjoyed it.

  Now, with Turner in her life, she welcomed the random flares. Each one was an opportunity for something wonderful, and each time felt like they were connecting anew.

  When the lights went down, Bridget walked over to the bathroom and cast a shroud around the immediate area, imbuing it with a light sense of dread. Whoever wanted to use the restroom wasn’t going to stand right there and wait. They were either going to return to their seat and wait for the green light to come on or trudge to the crowded coach and use one of its bathrooms with the rest of the plebs.

  A moment later the door pushed open and Turner squeezed in behind her, pulling it closed.

  “Take off your dress, love.”

  He wanted her to get naked? Bridget had planned on pulling her skirt up and her panties down, not the full Monty.

  But what the heck. It wasn’t a hardship.

  Her dress was the pull-on type, and it only took a second to yank it over her head, but trying to hang it on the hook was another story. Especially with Victor cupping her breasts from behind and his erection pressing into her ass as she was fumbling with the thing.

  “I can’t concentrate when you do that.” She tried again.

  Taking the garment from her hands, Turner reached over her and completed the task in a split second.

  “Show-off.”

  “You like it.” He pinched a nipple through her bra.

  Yes, she did. Her mate was a one of a kind super brainiac who could do anything he put his mind to, and that wasn’t limited to his genius. He’d also built a barbecue from scratch with his own two hands, which had impressed the heck out of her.

  Standing in her high heels and her matching bra and panty set, she let her head fall back on his shoulder. “You’ll have to take the rest off me.”

  Nuzzling and nipping her neck, he snapped the bra clasp and slid the straps down her arms. “Put your hands on the door and lean forward,” he commanded.

  Bridget liked where this was going.

  With deft fingers, Turner hung the bra on the same hook that was barely holding the dress, but even the freaking inanimate object knew better than to try to best him.

  In the end, Turner always won.

  Crouching behind her, he hooked his thumbs in her panties and pulled them down. “Lift your foot. Now the other one.”

  She heard him stuffing them into his pocket. Was he saving them for her, or did he want her to spend the rest of the flight panty-less?

  Kinky.


  A moment later his warm hands cupped her ass, and he licked into her.

  Her mate was talented in so many ways, and Bridget applauded his penchant for striving to be the best at everything he did, especially when it was pleasuring her into oblivion.

  As she pushed back against his tongue, he circled his arm around her and pressed his finger to the top of her slit.

  The dual sensations were like twin torpedoes, shooting her up toward an orgasm in seconds. Except, she needed a little more to break through the barrier, and Victor was taking his time, slowly licking and sucking and gently massaging that tight bundle of nerves.

  Frustrated, she groaned and swiveled her hips, urging him to give her what she needed.

  That earned her a hard slap on her ass-cheek.

  The slight sting managed to help her stretch the barrier, but not break through it.

  “I need to come now, Victor,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  Obliging her, he retracted his tongue and replaced it with two thick fingers. Pumping in and out of her, he pressed the thumb of his other hand to her clit.

  That was what she’d needed. Breaking through the barrier, Bridget rocketed into a climax that had her eyes roll back in her head and her legs turn into noodles.

  Holding her up, Victor purred his approval and kissed her moist lips before pushing up.

  As she heard him release his buckle and then lower his zipper, Bridget braced for the penetration that was coming, but after his gentle foreplay, the ferocity of that first thrust took her by surprise.

  “Victor,” she breathed.

  Holding on to her hips, he pulled back and slammed into her again, and again. Oblivious to the door’s rattling and to his own growls, Turner unleashed the beast living inside his immortal body.

  Dimly, she was aware that her shroud might not hold up while her concentration was shot all to hell, and that the noise they were making would be overheard over the engines’ noise.