Spirited Read online

  Chapter One

  Tatum’s lips twisted as anger boiled in her blood. Her dark brown eyes roamed over a trail of large muddy footprints covering her immaculately clean floor –an impractical shade of white- a floor that she waxed and scrubbed for hours to please her mistress, the goddess Silke. Rolling her eyes, she dropped to her knees, a damp cloth firmly clutched in her hands. A dull ache started to pulse in her shoulder as she wiped the offending mud from her former shiny white marble floors.

  I won’t go back home because I can’t keep a few floors clean. I made a promise to myself and my mother. I would see the world and serve Silke in her temple. I’ve come too far to fail over need to be an utter arrogant moron, and their blatant refusal to clean after themselves.

  Her brown eyes scanned over her surroundings.

  “Dirt and smudges were born for this place,” Tatum muttered to herself.

  Silke decorated her temple in various pristine shades of white, ivory, and cream mingled with a few pastels. Heavy white satin drapes hung over wide glass windows trimmed in gleaming pinkish-red gold. Crystal bowls filled with champagne colored grapes rested on polished wooden tables. The cathedral ceiling’s skylight shined light upon immaculate great walls and white marble floors trimmed in silver. Silke’s temple represented her persona -- untouchable. Silke represented everything good and happy on Oceanus; unlike her twin, the dark lord. Rumor had it that he was different from the last dark lord, and Tatum didn’t have the desire to meet him. In her mind, a good dark lord was a dead one.

  Tatum didn’t have the desire to scrub, rub, and polish anything in the Great Hall until a bright sun rose signaling the dawning of a new morning. Life wasn’t easy as an acolyte in the service of Silke. One day, Tatum hoped that she would serve as a high priestess in one of Silke’s temples scattered across Oceanus. With her hopes dangling before her, Tatum was forced to complete mundane tasks. Over the last two months, she sorted rice; herded cats; and collected eagle’s eggs. Never once did she ever think of refusing a challenge or allowing anger to block her thoughts. However, the muddy footprints made fire flow in her veins. This was rude and unacceptable behavior. How can anyone have such big feet?

  She scooted on her knees as she wiped away the evidence of someone’s cocky behavior. Who dare dirty the beauty of Silke’s temple? Scrunching her nose, Tatum scrubbed until her cloth contained a mixture of mud and sandy pebbles. It has to be a man, she thought. Or a big woman? A mere mortal defiles her temple? Silke would create a famine to punish the valley for such disrespect. Tatum hummed a song from her childhood to calm her nerves as she cleaned the floor. Her mother’s melodies always soothed her anger.

  Tatum stopped abruptly when she reached a pair of muddy black boots. Pink lips twisted in disdain as her hands wrangled the dirty cloth. She ignored an urge to toss it into someone’s face. Her glittering eyes rose along a pair of muscular legs encased in black leather; a dark gold belt encircled a trim waist, and a deerskin vest lay open revealing a chiseled tan stomach. A golden necklace with a large medallion hung from a strong neck. His lips curved in a smirk, revealing strong white teeth and high cheekbones. She gasped when she met his eyes, a dark blue like when night mingles with daybreak. She could see nothing except thick dark lashes. Silky dark hair hung to his shoulders in unruly waves. Goodness, he was ominously handsome, much too handsome for our world. He has the manners of a feral cat.

  Tatum didn’t quite understand the tingling along her skin as she gazed upon the unwelcomed intruder. Something about his wide smile sparked a desire to race back to her room and cower under her bedcovers. His filthy boots scraped across the floor next to her cleaning bucket.

  Dipping her rag into a bucket of warm soapy water, Tatum flung her arm near his pants. She hid a smile of satisfaction as droplets of water coursed down his leather pants.

  It reminds me of a rainstorm in the middle of the night.

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip to prevent a scream from slipping out of her mouth when he rested his dirty boot on the side of her bucket and motioned for her to clean his boot.

  Tatum cocked her head to the side. “Did you miss the bowl of water, soap, and rag to clean your boots before entering the temple of Silke, Oceanus’ goddess of light?”

  “No, I knew I would find a woman on her knees to serve me. You are beyond my expectations.”

  Tatum frowned at him even though his words made her shiver from her nape to her toes. His voice was rich like a cream sauce that her mother poured over roasted chicken, too delicious to have every day. “No, milady said nothing about a shepherd arriving today. I’m here to wipe the floors and serve Silke, not to serve you,” she spat.

  His smile grew before he dropped to his knees. Her hand slapped away his fingers as they slipped under her chin. Carefully, he moved her face around as he searched for pock marks or other imperfections. Helplessly, Tatum ignored his warm fingertips and penetrating eyes.

  “I’ll call you Mouse. Oh, Mouse, such a perfect name for you; scurrying around silently, fading in the background, waiting for your moment to leave a mark. You must be new; all the new girls are easy prey. Just think of me as a cat, waiting to pounce. Or maybe, a large wise owl swooping down from a dark sky to capture you in my clutches. Carrying you in my tight grasp until we arrive back to a secluded nest… a trembling mouse waiting to be devoured by the dark owl.”

  “Do you ever listen to yourself? That line was corny and so dirty old man. A 15-year-old boy can recite a better bunch of hooey.” Tatum slapped his hands away. “I am not to be touched by a man until I fulfill my service to my lady. You will respect her laws, and you will respect me,” Tatum demanded loudly as she pushed away his hand and struggled to her feet. She decided to ignore the bucket as it tipped to the floor, her perfectly cleaned floor. Soapy water flowed down the hallway as the bucket rolled on its side.

  “Look what you did!” she screamed in dismay. “Do you ever think of anyone else?”

  He shrugged. “No.”

  “Moron!”

  “Such disrespect.”

  “Respect should be earned, not given to someone because they are bigger and meaner than most!”

  “So, you know, and never forget… I’m the meanest and biggest of all.”

  Tatum threw her hands in the air signaling her surrender. “I give up; you’re impossible. I will alert milady of your presence.”

  Her silky brown hair flipped behind her as she stormed off in a huff. He watched her breasts jiggle as her hips swayed seductively. He was a bit surprised by the tightness in his pants. He preferred meek and mild to loud and confrontational.

  “Would you care for my name, Mouse?”

  She stopped and uncurled her hands, her body rigid. She shot him a venomous look over her shoulder. “Well, what is it?”

  “Say… please,” he commanded.

  “Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

  Arching a dark brown, he shook his head. “My birth was difficult. She ripped open her womb to deliver me, her final act of womanhood.”

  “So, you’re saying that she was desperate to free her body of you. I guess most woman don’t want you in them.”

  “You do.”

  “What? I already told you that it’s not going to happen. Dedicated acolyte to Silke. Oh, handsome rude man, please give me your name,” Tatum whined.

  “One day, I will make you beg as you writhe under me, just not today. Inform my sister, that her brother, Keir, the God of Darkness has arrived for tea.”

  “You’re the dark lord?”

  “The best one ever.”

  Tatum shook her head in disbelief, “I’ve should have known. Darkly handsome, dark clothes and dark personality. Is your temple painted black? I missed all of the signs.”

  Tatum's
mouth opened as she squeezed eyes tightly shut. Keir deliverer of death, seduction, and chaos stood behind her, smirking. The lord of the darkest realm cupped her cheek and attempted to flame her female desires. Why didn’t I become a seamstress?

  “Because you can’t sew.”

  Keir blew Tatum a tiny kiss when her body whipped around to confront him. He enjoyed seeing a bit of fire in her chocolate brown eyes. Strands of sable brown hair framed her pretty face, resting on damp cheek bones. Her pink lips twisted in a disgusted scowl.

  “Stay out of my mind,” she ordered.

  “Make me.”

  Tatum slammed the door shut behind her. Keir’s rich laughter curled around her like a blanket as she stomped down the hall to locate Silke.

  Tapping his chin, Keir surveyed his mess marring Silke’s impossibly decorated temple. His sister’s taste in colors was juvenile and silly. Her servants and maidens spent too much time keeping dark imperfections from damaging Silke’s perfect little bubble world. Waving his hand, Tatum’s bucket and the soapy messy disappeared from the room.

  “I won’t be able to play with my new mouse, if she has to clean all night,” Keir reasoned to himself.

  Silke shone light into Keir's dark world. He adored his twin; she was the only person on the planet that he would grant a concession. Her dedication to light was a bit tedious. She was much too serious, more than their mother had been in their youth. Keir tightened his heart as his mother flashed in his mind. He willed her image away as he focused on things in the temple to harden his resolve. He tapped his foot on the white marble tile to calm his nerves.

  Goodness is drab and boring; her constant need to save Oceanus will drive me to distraction. Why could she never accept the humans’ faults? They were weak and needy, causing them to seek solace in my cold embrace.

  He didn’t enjoy; wait, yes, he did enjoy stealing souls. It was his second favorite thing; seducing females was his first, only willing mature women. He didn’t like the young and inexperienced, much too flirty as Cormac was learning with his young escapee bride. Silke fretted over his prowess and basically lack of desire to take a consort. He replied that he forced himself to find a bride once a year, why actively pursue anything lasting.

  His annual search for a bride would begin in a few days, his favorite time of year. It was like an extra birthday celebration that he didn’t have to share with Silke. He turned slightly to greet his sister when he heard her padding softly towards him.

  Silke’s blue eyes colored like the sky regarded him with dismay. “So, you are here to steal another handmaiden to turn her to the darkness, ruining her soul forever.”

  Keir rolled his head in feigned hurt.

  “I don’t seduce them until they fail. Then, I claim my prize...”

  “Oh, yes, they fail the test,” Silke replied with a slight wave of her hand.

  Keir noticed Silke seemed a bit paler than usual. She didn’t start into a rant about his behavior and constant need to ruin humans.

  “Yes, my sister, they fail you. The chosen one to be your representative at my side as my consort of light and poorly decorated temples; she fails you. Year after year, you chose poorly. Girls, children without substance. I can’t help setting them on their true path of darkness. Perhaps, you should find a woman on my level.”

  Silke grew weary of her brother as this time of the year approached. She twirled a strand of blonde hair around her fingers. “One day, my true priestess will be found. One day, she will take her place at your dark side. One day, her virgin blood will mingle with your essence, binding the contracts. Treaties to balance the good and evil,” she drawled heatedly. “One day, she will curb that vile tongue of yours. Perhaps, she will see past the ridiculous tongue to see the man inside, Keir!”

  “Until then, I’m guaranteed a virgin every year. None has been able to resist me. They choose to fail the test. Three simple tests, Silke! A test of Fear! A test of Temptation! A test of Intelligence! Do not fret, pet. One day, your savior will arrive; I will bond myself to her side forever. Balance will be restored because you will be forced to join with your husband. Blane, the collector of death. The essence of darkness. I bet he‘ll change the décor around here when he moves in. Or will you have to live underground in his dark crypt, cobwebs and dust? You can write your name in the dust at his lair.”

  Silke frowned at the thought of her dismissed and ignored husband. “I have nothing to say about your selection for my husband.”

  Their father, Murale, creator of all things from the highest point of light to the lowest depth of darkness used his twin children to maintain balance in the world. Silke searched for a dark force to balance her light. In her many years of life, nobody was the missing half of her soul until Blane surfaced expectantly one summer night. She barely remembered him from their childhood. The hint of darkness surrounding his soul beckoned to her. After pleading, she convinced her father to postpone her marital night until Keir found his bride. For the last twenty years, to help her brother discover a glimmer of light, she held an annual festival to search for his true bride. Every year, the selected girl failed the test, miserably, and the girl became a minion of Keir’s, a nameless drone used to seduce men and women across the land to his seductive charms. Thinking of their fate caused a chill to form over her heart. Yet, they submitted to Keir’s sultry advances; she could not change their fate.

  A slight rapping at the door caught their attention; a smiling Tatum appeared pushing a cart laden with tea and other refreshments prepared for Keir and Silke’s afternoon tea. Nodding her head respectfully at her lady, Tatum waited for instructions from the goddess. She enjoyed learning magic and the ways of nature from Silke; she was a kind gentle soul. Tatum’s little nose scrunched in distaste when she viewed Keir, lounging in his chair like the world belonged to him. Silke beckoned Tatum to enter the chamber; Tatum blew a strand of dark hair from her eyes as she shoved the creaky cart into Silke’s suite.

  Silke’s eyes widened, her lips curled down when she watched Keir’s eyes lingering over Tatum’s body. She was a bit astonished by his interest in Tatum.

  Usually, he selects spineless, beautiful women to practice his seductive talents. Tatum is a vastly intelligent, witty girl. No, Tatum is a young woman. Nothing in her spoke of being a Keir woman.

  She was tall for a woman, her skin gleamed like freshly milked cream; her face was dominated by deep brown eyes. Long silky hair framed her sweet face. Silke’s brows knitted together in concern. Not her, Keir, chose one of the other ninnies living in the Temple.

  Tatum felt eyes bearing into her soul as she prepared Silke’s cup of rose tea lightly sweetened with newly gathered golden honey. A few butter biscuits placed on the edge of her saucer. Tatum studied very hard to learn her lady’s pleasures and dislikes. Wearing a humble smile, Tatum unhurriedly walked towards Silke. She took measured careful steps to balance the steaming brew. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Keir; she mustn’t do anything to disturb her lady. Leaning over, her head turned to stare into complete darkness. His eyes were like a starless night streaked with blue, like a ship that wanted to be lost at sea. His hand clamped around Tatum’s forearm, searing her flesh and causing a new heat to flare wantonly along her spine. Tatum swallowed nervously as she used her other fingers to pry his hand from her arm.

  “Lord Keir, I am not to be touched while I am in the service of your sister,” Tatum explained calmly. “Please, don’t tempt me to break the rules.”

  Tatum planted her hands on her hips as she rebuffed Keir’s advances. A smile tugged at his soft pink lips; it was a bit disturbing. Tatum blinked. Don’t look in his eyes. Don’t think that he’s handsome. He’s bad for you. He’ll make you chubby like sweets. I could use a few pounds. I’m downright skinny; breast-less, and skinny. Noooo…

  Something flared inside Keir, a new emotion. He decided to ignore the waves of heat flowing in his blood as he watched the spunky little acolyte flirt around the room. “Do I not recei
ve a cup of tea?”

  “I don’t know your preference, Lord Keir,” Tatum admitted honestly.

  Keir leaned forward, “Hot, sweet, brown and steamy. I like my tea to make me crave more, to make me want to drink the very essence of its brew.” Silke flushed. Tatum rubbed her chin as she met Keir’s eyes coolly. “I don’t know if we have that brew in our cupboard. I’ll check.”

  His words ignited something inside her body. Tatum was quite sure of what was wrong with her. Her body felt hot, and her stomach was queasy. Her eyes lingered over Lord Keir. He was the rudest man ever to grace the planet.

  “Milady, may I search for your brother’s tea? I would hate for him to feel discomfort.”

  Silke nodded. “Yes, my dear, send Althea back with his brew along with a bucket of ice. It’s a bit hot in here, too hot.” Silke stared at her twin. “Someone needs to cool down.”

  Tatum gave Keir one last stare as she scampered from the room. Silke shot her brother an icy look. “She’s barely a child.”

  “How old?”

  “19.”

  “She’s a virgin by her own admission-“

  “Keir, please. Select another, I have plans for her.”

  “She meets the age requirement. Maybe I have plans for her.”

  “Brother, I beg of you. Your plans involve your seductive charms in a bed.”

  Keir sat quietly; emotions clouded his dark eyes. Silke knew she lost the battle when his jaw sat tightly. His fingers laced. “Sister, you know the rules; I choose Tatum.”

  Silke exhaled sadly. “She’s special. The rules are that I get to choose.”

  “Perhaps she’s the one. No, the rules state it must be one of your maidens, attendants, acolytes, or whatever you call them.”

  “If she isn’t?”

  “I still get her.” Keir would have Tatum, one way or the other. He would satisfy the tightness in his loins as her husband or lover. It didn’t matter to him. His sister would not interfere.

  “Meet the other girls first, for me.”

  “I can deny you nothing, Sister.”