what the
Book of Creation
was ordering him to do. He was a tool, nothing more.
He looked down at the silver trunk of the tree and sighed. The
Book of Creation
’s cover glowed, a distinct hum of power radiating from within its pages. The other two he had collected began glowing as well, each one desperate to be in their master’s hands. But their master, Jaiden, had been slaughtered in the Heavens, his books scattered across the universe.
Twelve books of knowledge, the
Book of Creation
, and the
Book of Destruction
were essential in maintaining the balance of the universe. Jaiden had been the hand that kept the balance according to the words written in those books. But now, so many years after Jaiden had been killed, the books were at unease and the universe was swirling blindly out of control.
Charon had been enlisted by the
Book of Creation
as its new protector. And he had protected it for many years. Until one day, the book had awakened, called Charon forth and longed for the future the book had been forged to protect.
The ground rumbled as fourteen wooden pedestals erupted from the ground. As they slowly rose, Charon laughed. With great care, he laid the
Book of Creation
on the first pedestal, the
Book of Resurrection
on the second, and the
Book of Darkness
on the third. The
Book of Light
would need to be placed next. The next nine books would need to be placed after and the final book, The
Book of Destruction
, would be placed last.
Closing his eyes, he reached out, called to the missing books. The seven that were in the Heavens answered, but remained hidden. The
Book of Destruction
’s soft lull was barely audible in his mind. His burning red eyes cast a glow as he continued reaching out to the other two books. They were on earth, but they refused to answer, refused to awaken.
But the
Book of Light
had awoken, the pages ringing out demanding to be answered. His robe fluttered in the soft wind as his hood covered his face. Charon would see to it personally that the book was returned to the Tree of Life.
Not by choice. By command.
• • •
Chanta awoke and sat straight up on her bed. Vivid images of Payne’s hands on her body, plundering in secret places, raced through her foggy mind. Erotic thoughts of chains and biting came to surface as she took a deep ragged breath. She definitely had been dreaming!
She bolted out of the bed and looked around. The light was on in the hallway and she edged to the door. Slowly and with great anticipation, she peeked out into the hallway. She took a deep breath, crept out, and tipped toed down the hall to the front room.
Chanta turned the corner and caught her breath. In the center of her couch sat Payne with all four of her cats curled up on his lap. The big psycho scary guy had a soft spot for cats; now imagine that.
Oh hell, she could imagine more than just that. For instance, she could clearly see his strong powerful hands sliding up her legs and caressing her hips. She groaned softly as she wondered if his lips would still feel like silk against her skin. And if not only to add to her misery, she wondered if he was a gentle or rough lover. Rough, yeah, he would definitely be a lover who knew how to control her passions.
Chanta stopped, looked down at her trembling hands and shaking knees. What passions? She looked at Payne, instantly heat claimed her core. She knew it had to be the Burning that was causing her body such turmoil yet she couldn’t deny how.
She stared at him, felt like she was staring at a wild animal that had been caged and refused to be tamed. And she was the one that had to let that animal out or die if she didn’t.
His head was leaned back against the wall and his eyes were closed. He looked peaceful and asleep, almost content. The hard planes of his face were soft, almost gentle. She edged closer and slid into the black velvet chair that sat across from the couch. She had to admit he was rather good looking with all that black hair and
Book of Creation
was ordering him to do. He was a tool, nothing more.
He looked down at the silver trunk of the tree and sighed. The
Book of Creation
’s cover glowed, a distinct hum of power radiating from within its pages. The other two he had collected began glowing as well, each one desperate to be in their master’s hands. But their master, Jaiden, had been slaughtered in the Heavens, his books scattered across the universe.
Twelve books of knowledge, the
Book of Creation
, and the
Book of Destruction
were essential in maintaining the balance of the universe. Jaiden had been the hand that kept the balance according to the words written in those books. But now, so many years after Jaiden had been killed, the books were at unease and the universe was swirling blindly out of control.
Charon had been enlisted by the
Book of Creation
as its new protector. And he had protected it for many years. Until one day, the book had awakened, called Charon forth and longed for the future the book had been forged to protect.
The ground rumbled as fourteen wooden pedestals erupted from the ground. As they slowly rose, Charon laughed. With great care, he laid the
Book of Creation
on the first pedestal, the
Book of Resurrection
on the second, and the
Book of Darkness
on the third. The
Book of Light
would need to be placed next. The next nine books would need to be placed after and the final book, The
Book of Destruction
, would be placed last.
Closing his eyes, he reached out, called to the missing books. The seven that were in the Heavens answered, but remained hidden. The
Book of Destruction
’s soft lull was barely audible in his mind. His burning red eyes cast a glow as he continued reaching out to the other two books. They were on earth, but they refused to answer, refused to awaken.
But the
Book of Light
had awoken, the pages ringing out demanding to be answered. His robe fluttered in the soft wind as his hood covered his face. Charon would see to it personally that the book was returned to the Tree of Life.
Not by choice. By command.
• • •
Chanta awoke and sat straight up on her bed. Vivid images of Payne’s hands on her body, plundering in secret places, raced through her foggy mind. Erotic thoughts of chains and biting came to surface as she took a deep ragged breath. She definitely had been dreaming!
She bolted out of the bed and looked around. The light was on in the hallway and she edged to the door. Slowly and with great anticipation, she peeked out into the hallway. She took a deep breath, crept out, and tipped toed down the hall to the front room.
Chanta turned the corner and caught her breath. In the center of her couch sat Payne with all four of her cats curled up on his lap. The big psycho scary guy had a soft spot for cats; now imagine that.
Oh hell, she could imagine more than just that. For instance, she could clearly see his strong powerful hands sliding up her legs and caressing her hips. She groaned softly as she wondered if his lips would still feel like silk against her skin. And if not only to add to her misery, she wondered if he was a gentle or rough lover. Rough, yeah, he would definitely be a lover who knew how to control her passions.
Chanta stopped, looked down at her trembling hands and shaking knees. What passions? She looked at Payne, instantly heat claimed her core. She knew it had to be the Burning that was causing her body such turmoil yet she couldn’t deny how.
She stared at him, felt like she was staring at a wild animal that had been caged and refused to be tamed. And she was the one that had to let that animal out or die if she didn’t.
His head was leaned back against the wall and his eyes were closed. He looked peaceful and asleep, almost content. The hard planes of his face were soft, almost gentle. She edged closer and slid into the black velvet chair that sat across from the couch. She had to admit he was rather good looking with all that black hair and
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