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  Demonic Persuasion

  Kim Knox

  Book two in the Demonic Liaisons series.

  Fadeyka Bryce is on the run. She uncovered a dark family secret and now there’s a price on her head. Her best plan is to hide out in the last place they would ever look for her—a pleasure planet—until she can buy herself a new name and a new face.

  However, the Athanasios—a race of pure energy—have plans for Fade. They’ve been waiting for her, for her unique flesh, and they ache to experience pleasure. They can become as many lovers as Fade could ever dream…except for one man. Taras Foster.

  But then, the Athanasios want him too.

  An Exotika® futuristic/scifi erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

  Demonic Persuasion

  Kim Knox

  Chapter One

  Standing practically naked in front of her employer wasn’t her first choice, but Fadeyka Bryce was doing this for the money. A new identity cost. And she needed another new one to stay alive.

  “My payment, Mr. Mercer.”

  Mercer leaned back in his padded chair and pressed his steepled fingers to his lips. His brows drew together, his gaze crawling over her skin. She didn’t know where to put her hands, so she laced them in a loose knot over her belly and tried not to feel stupid.

  She’d dialed up something revealing and settled on flimsy Keme silk draped over her breasts from a silver collar. A matching thin belt circled her hips and dropped squares of silk over her thighs and mons. She didn’t feel comfortable in her nakedness. It wasn’t her usual work wear of a drab all-in-one industrial cleaning suit.

  Mercer’s gaze didn’t break from her and unease itched under her skin. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had seen her even remotely naked.

  “I knew Foster was hiding you inside that cleaning suit.” He tilted his head. “You know, we always have vacancies on the floor.”

  When she’d first applied for a position at Club Tier she’d considered it. Even gone as far as taking the bio-test for the genetic grafts. When Taras Foster, head of technical and house security, had reported her as an unsuitable candidate for grafting, relief had swelled in her stomach. The decision of pleasuring the clients of Club Tier had been taken away from her. “He isn’t. I’m one of the rare few.” She shrugged. “Odd genes.”

  “Pity.” He sat forward. “But then your natural state does make you an ideal candidate for palate cleansing.”

  Fade winced. She didn’t want to sound like food. “My money, Mr. Mercer.”

  He opened his hand and swept the curve of a light screen across the table. Her account glowed in sharp white figures against the translucent film. Lots of figures. And an account not in its usual state of flashing red with negative numbers. “Increased salary and bonus, as agreed.” He clicked his fingers and the screen vanished. He smirked at her. “Time to visit the beast.”

  Mercer pushed back his chair and Fade took a step away. Nerves tightened her stomach. “The Cage is safe, isn’t it? Foster said—”

  “Foster is being overcautious.” Mercer tugged at the hem of his jacket, straightening it. He glanced out the wide window to the dark skyscape of Theta-Scopii-3 before he looked to her. “The incident three days ago was simply a glitch. We worked the beast too hard.” His gaze slid over her again. “Now we must offer him something sweet.”

  “I’m still not food, Mr. Mercer.”

  He laughed. “Do you realize the honor you’re receiving?” He strode around his desk and Fadeyka fought to keep her bare feet rooted to the cool, tiled floor. He stood before her, the light reflected from the crystal ceiling pushing his face into shadow. His fingers stroked over the curve of her shoulder and he watched their path. “Dignitaries with more wealth than you can dream of have begged me for their short time in the Cage.” He wetted his lips. “And anyway, you’ve taken payment. You can’t back out now.”

  Being alone with the odious Stepan Mercer in his office, or facing the lust of an unknown beast? She knew which one she was choosing. “The night is moving on, Mr. Mercer.”

  He lifted his chin and turned to the door. “There are rules you must follow when you’re in the Cage. Break them and you’re out.”

  Fade nodded, straining her spine, forcing herself to focus. This was a paid job. And she was practically ensured job satisfaction. The first stir of nervous excitement flared under her skin. It hadn’t only been about the money. Curiosity drove her just as hard. Foster had never put her on the rota to clean the lower levels of the club, but she’d heard the dark and delicious rumors about the Cage. “What do I do?”

  “You’ll be dropped into the room. The plate-lift is the only exit. Once there, you are to shut your eyes and keep them closed.” He paused and his hand hovered over the lock to the door. “And you’re to remain silent. No speaking whilst the beast works. Do either and the session is over.”

  A little frisson of…interest ran through her flesh. The Cage promised endless pleasure. Staff spoke of clients being extracted barely conscious, the hot thrum of their pleasure vibrating from their skin. And that the beast kept his pleasure to himself. No one left with the memory of ecstasy.

  The wooden door to his office slid silently back into its frame. Beyond it was the mezzanine level, a wide raised platform set above the first of the public floors. Slow, rhythmic music beat through the warm air and the heavy scent of sex mixed with lighter fragrances of cedar and sandalwood.

  It brushed over her bare skin and the dual exposure prickled her. There was another reason she loved her cleaning suit. Paranoia kept her hidden, kept her safe. She hadn’t trusted that the mess that had brought her to this resort in the first place hadn’t followed her inside.

  She’d hoped it was the last place they’d look for her. Staid Zoya Dolon—as she once was—bound to her job with little life beyond it wouldn’t have thought to set foot in such a place. But signs said the people hunting her were closing in on her location. She had to prepare to run again.

  It was still early, their side of the barren rock turning away from Theta-Scorpii’s distant binary stars. The fourth shift was just coming on. Club Tier never closed. It was the premier sex venue on the small planetoid.

  Foster’s second-in-command, Gallagher, stepped forward out of the darkness. He was in charge that night. Foster had taken a rare night off and Fade had seized her chance to take Mercer up on his offer. She was aware that Mercer pestered her because he believed—as others did—that she was Foster’s favorite. Fade didn’t know what she was, but she certainly wasn’t that.

  Foster sometimes watched the feeds coming out of the Cage. She hadn’t wanted his cold glare eating into her resolve. She hadn’t wanted him to see something fuck her either.

  “Good evening, Mr. Mercer.” Gallagher glanced over her, his expression neutral. They both knew that Foster was going to be furious that she’d gone through with this. “Fade.”

  She stopped herself from wetting her lips, or screwing her hands together any tighter. She hadn’t missed the hint of censure in his voice. “Gallagher.”

  “I’ll show her down myself.” Mercer put his hand to her bare spine and Fade jerked forward. Gallagher’s gaze narrowed briefly, but he said nothing. “Watch the floors.”

  The second-in-command gave a slow nod and eased back into the darkness. “Yes, Mr. Mercer.”

  The narrow corridors far below the mezzanine were a warren of shadows. Crystal glow edged the doors of the private rooms. The rush of circulating air filled with the heavy scent of sex and the muffled moans and cries of the club’s more exclusive clients.

  Her cleaning suit had formed a thick barrier to activity in the club, but she’d never truly appreciated how much it blocked. Walking with her skin bare and her senses full of t
he place, she was grateful for it. Already the heavy push of need had her body on edge.

  “Is Foster fucking you? Is that what has my people so twitchy?”

  Mercer’s question broke a strangled “What?” from her and she stared at him. Pale light from the pure crystal growing from the curve of the black archway washed over his stark face. The light leeched color from his skin and she was grateful it would do the same to her. Taras Foster didn’t fuck the staff. That had been made very clear. “Foster? No!”

  Mercer’s mouth thinned. “Then you do something for him. What is it?”

  He swiped his hand over a slab of darkened crystal grown into the wall and a door swung inward with a low groan. Stronger crystal light pushed back the shadows in a narrow corridor ending in a metal door. The door behind them thudded into place and the heavy throb of music died. Fade missed its support, its distraction.

  “Do you suck him off in the feed room?”

  Fade pushed down the need to curse and kept her voice neutral. She wasn’t risking her job. “Staff and management don’t have relationships. I simply do my job here.”

  Mercer laughed. “You turned him down. That must have dented his ego.”

  There was little point in trying to defend herself or deny any sort of…relationship with Foster. Mercer was the slick face of the club for its owners, but it was Foster who held the real power. Fade had overheard Mercer’s gripes enough times in the four standard months she’d worked the upper floors to realize the power imbalance.

  They stopped at the metal door. Mercer pressed his palm to the flat crystal plate at its side and mechanisms hummed. A second later the door eased back to reveal a narrow plate-lift. The shaft had been dug from solid crystal. Fade craned her neck, but the open edges of the plate floor dropped down into blackness.

  Her heart squeezed and she heard again Foster’s deep, hard voice pointing out how dangerous the Cage was, how he still had to do a thorough diagnostic of its interior and how she was not going to fuck whatever was down there…

  But here she was and the money was in her account. No going back.

  “If you feel the need…after.” Mercer walked a finger along the bare length of her arm. Goose bumps rose and Fade held down a shiver. She wasn’t going near him. She never had and she never would. She’d rather face the unknown of the Cage than him.

  “Please have my transport ready. As agreed.”

  Mercer shrugged and his fingers tapped out a slow, irritating rhythm over the back of her hand. “Those who visit the beast return with a sharpened appetite. The need to fuck will consume you.”

  “My transport, Mr. Mercer.”

  He pulled in a heavy breath and stepped back from her. “As you wish.” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you grab the nearest thing with a pulse and let it fuck you in desperation.” A dark smile lifted the corner of his mouth and a touch of nastiness lit his eyes. “I’ve seen it happen.” He paused and her blood thudded. “And enjoyed the show.”

  Fade ignored the hard twist of her heart. She was doing this for the money. When it was over, when she had “cleansed the beast’s palate” she would return to her job and the safe and protective barrier of her suit. Maybe she’d be beyond mortified, but she’d have a large chunk toward constructing her new life.

  She rubbed her damp palms against her silk-covered hips. Fear of the unknown and what had happened to the three women from Kappa-Orionis-7 broke nervous sweat on her skin. They’d been pulled unconscious from the Cage. As far as she knew, they’d recovered, but the Cage had been shut down under Foster’s order.

  She caught a strange hint of carbon…no, coal, and for a brief moment all her worry dissolved. Fade pulled the scent deeper into her lungs, the sudden raw need completely right in her flesh and making her all too ready for whatever awaited her.

  Fade doubted it was anything living, that the Cage really held a mysterious beast. The club could never get away with holding something sentient to work as a pleasure slave. The Academy of Sciences would claim first rights and shut the place down. No, it had to be a tease. Bioware, expensive, only just the right side of legal and obviously in need of a reset. Maybe that was what Foster was protecting? The interests of the club’s owners.

  Her fingers flexed at her sides and her tongue touched her dry lips. The thin silk was warm against her breasts, the heat of her skin making the fabric cling. Mercer was already walking away and was close to the far door. “How long do I have to stay down there?”

  He turned and in the shadows she thought she caught his hard smile. “Last as long as you can, Fade. I want to be absolutely sure the beast is cleansed.”

  “Ten minutes? An hour? What?”

  His laughter burned raw in her ears. “An hour? I’ve watched the feeds from that room. He’ll devour you.” He paused. “You must…resist.”

  Mercer clanged the door shut behind him and she was left alone in the silence.

  Fade lifted her shoulders. Nowhere to go but down. Gripping the wide frame of the doorway, she pressed the ball of her foot onto the plate. It gave way, just enough for her to feel the support mechanism beneath. She shook her head and committed herself to stepping onto the plate. Was most of the thrill of visiting the Cage the touches of fear that came with entering it?

  Fade found her balance. The tunnel door creaked and slowly rolled back into place. Sweat trickled down her spine as the pale light was the only comfort in the tight space. “This is insane. I’m insane.” The words were deadened by the jagged rock surrounding her and ran a chill over her damp skin. “All right. Ready.”

  Fade closed her eyes, pressed her lips together and listened to the panicked thud of her heart. The plate-lift dropped and she pressed her hand to her mouth to keep back the squeak of surprise.

  The hum of the mechanism filled the tight space and she dropped through the shaft, the air moving, wrapping the familiar hint of cedar and sandalwood around her.

  She frowned. There was something else. She swallowed and the strange taste of coal lingered on her tongue again. Should bioware have that odor? Foster had raised vehement objections about her entering the Cage. Had he known there was a fundamental flaw?

  Fade’s gut twisted and a greater swell of fear touched her. Was she making a really stupid mistake? Foster was head of security, after all. “He’s not here. I am. And I’m doing this.” She clamped her hand to her mouth. No talking. None. The scent of coal eased away and she breathed more easily. She’d taken the payment. Backing out now would mean the end of her plans to escape. Therefore she had no choice.

  The plate stopped. Fade pulled in deeper breaths, fighting the fear, the need she had to open her eyes and simply run. Cool air teased her skin, the current lifting the thin silk. Mercer had said to close her eyes and stay silent for the beast to find her.

  Her fingers caught in the ringlets of her hair and for a long moment she listened to the wild thud of her heart. How had she fallen into this life? Seriously? She’d washed up on Theta-Scorpii-3, a pen-pusher who happened to be good with languages and had deciphered something she shouldn’t. She’d become someone who had to hide, and hide fast. And the job in Club Tier had been her first break in what felt a lifetime.

  She stepped down from the plate and walked five paces from it, her feet silent and sinking into the soft, cushioned floor. It was luck. She had money. With money, as little as it was, she had a place to live and could even afford to eat. On occasion. With the money Mercer had dumped into her account, she was almost set to disappear forever. She had to remember that, hold it in her thoughts.

  Fade stopped. Her chest ached with held breaths and anticipation. Calm, she had to find her calm place. It was just sex. Admittedly, it had been a while and only her fingers and her hot fantasies of Taras Foster had kept her sane. It was an irony that she worked in a place that was plastered with sex and she couldn’t get the man she wanted.

  A little frisson pricked under her feet and she gasped. Had it start
ed? Did she lie down, sit, stay standing? Her heart pounded and she couldn’t deny the dart of…interest in her flesh at what was about to happen. Only the obscenely wealthy experienced whatever was at the heart of this room.

  Fade relaxed her shoulders and rolled her neck. She listened to her slow breaths, felt them pull in and out of her body and tasted the cool air. There was that hint of coal again, stronger, the bitter burn of it all around her now. She kept her eyes closed and ignored Foster’s voice in the back of her mind, warning her to stay away, not to accept Mercer’s offer. She could almost hear his deep tones lined with that edge of anger that made her want to stop his words with her mouth.

  She wiped her fingers over her dry lips. No, she couldn’t indulge in her fantasies of Taras Foster. Not when there was the very distinct possibility that Mercer had opened a feed to the room. She wouldn’t call out Foster’s name. He didn’t consort with employees—

  A clawed fingertip stroked the inside of her thigh and Fade clamped her hand to her mouth. Keep your eyes shut and stay silent. The command darted through her thoughts…but the touch felt real. A cool, sharp claw and the rough pad of a finger traced over her thigh, skirting so close to her pussy that an unexpected ache filled her.

  Another hand teased her other leg, strong fingers gripping her thighs with a suddenness that drummed her heart. If she looked down, would she see some fluid bioware that would destroy the illusion? A long tongue curled over her mons, a slow, slow lick that almost broke a moan from her. The heat of something living breathed against her belly.

  “We’ve tasted your skin on the skin of others. So close…but never ours.” The words—more a chorus of voices speaking as one—burned through her mind, angry and needy. “All that is about to change. Now we have you.”

  Chapter Two

  Hard hands grabbed her arms and jerked her straight, more hands holding her calves. Her breaths came in quick pants and she fought to keep her eyes closed. She didn’t want to see whatever it was that had her in its firm grasp. Didn’t want—