Creations 4: Caging the Beast by Marie Harte Read Free Book Online Page B

Zachem, he caught him on the shoulder with an impossibly long, black fingernail and scratched him.
    Tarn lifted his bloodied nail to his mouth and sucked the digit clean. “Addicting. Like I said before.” He gave a breathless moan, confusing the shit out of Zachem. “Be good while I’m gone, Beast. And maybe I’ll give you a treat when I get back.” Tarn’s eyes smouldered.
    “Fuck you.” Why did wanting Tarn sear him to his bones?
    “Not if I fuck you first.” Tarn chuckled and left.
    The door slammed shut after him and the lock hammered home.
    The silence was deafening. A sudden loneliness scared Zachem, more than anything had in a long time. He didn’t understand how he could hunger for the one male he shouldn’t have. It made no sense. He told himself he wouldn’t count the minutes until Tarn returned.
    He did anyway.

    * * * *

    The minute Tarn and Pyrgo walked around the bend in the rocky corridor, Pyrgo disappeared. Tarn tried to follow his energy signature through the void, what Ebrellions knew to be the small holes in space they used to ‘port, but couldn’t push past the stored energy in his collar. He sank to the ground as the damned collar absorbed the energy he’d tried to use to access the void.
    Pyrgo returned, took one look at Tarn on his knees, and pulled him to his feet. “Hold onto me.”
    They moved through thick black space into a room that smelled familiar. Master Furon’s room. Pyrgo helped him stand and rolled his shoulders.
    “Sorry. I should have warned you that the collar blocks teleportation. It blocks the actual void, affecting artificial teleporters and our natural abilities. It’s a real peace of work.” Pyrgo sagged into a plush red chair. “You probably recognise this from your foray in shifted form. Master Furon is busy at the moment. This is the safest place to talk and it’s not recorded,” Pyrgo explained. “Now what the hell is the Destroyer doing here in The Pit, if I might ask?”
    Tarn sighed. “It’s a long story.”
    “Trust me, I’ve got nothing but time. Nine more days, in fact,” Pyrgo muttered.

    A coincidence? “Don’t tell me you’re here for the Dorvian crystal.”
    “I am.” Pyrgo swore. “You too?”
    “My nephew is a peacemaker on Mardu. He—”
    Pyrgo sat up. “Of course. Your nephew, Drekk. The Creation.”
    “Someone’s well informed.” Tarn didn’t know if he liked anyone with so much information about his family. The Ebrellion race wasn’t discerning about interracial lineage, but even they kept a wary eye on the Creations who had wandered into their star system several centuries ago.
    “I’m Ebrellion intelligence. I usually know everything about everything. But I admit, I hadn’t known you’d be here.”
    “I wasn’t supposed to be. Drekk was supposed to recover the crystal for his boss.
    Something about dignitaries from another world and an interplanetary incident.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m representing the Dorvians on this. Their king wants the crystal back, like yesterday. And the homeworld is all about extending our reign of peace ,” Pyrgo said with disgust.
    Tarn snorted. “Why do you think I left Brel for the Vrail System? A year ago I was ass-deep in Ebrellion rebels and loving it. Now the scared bastards won’t come near me. I’ve been stuck on Mardu working as a bar owner to keep an eye on our horny brethren. They’ve apparently given up kidnapping brides from the Vrail System, near as I can figure. ” Pyrgo didn’t smother his laugh fast enough.
    “Trust me, I find little humour in this situation,” he growled. He pulled at the metallic band around his throat.
    “I don’t know. Our greatest warrior, a slave?” Pyrgo chuckled. “The band won’t hold you, but it will stop you from becoming a threll or ‘porting. Hey, at least you’re in the mix again. Can’t claim The Pit isn’t an exciting place.”
    “If I didn’t need you to get me back to that cell, I’d choke you right now.” Pyrgo