Master of the Abyss

delineated the pathways, and one larger light beamed from the two-story log building. As she strolled across the open space to the lodge, an owl glided low, wings lit by the bright porch light. Like a tank dropping out of the sky, it landed on a tiny rodent. The poor mouse squeaked helplessly.

She knew just how it felt.

Okay, let’s get this over with. Kallie crossed the wide porch and almost stumbled over a massive dog sprawled in front of the door. It stood, some sort of German shepherd mix, and stared at her. She took a step in retreat, then saw his full tail wave back and forth. A nice dog. She wouldn’t be getting her throat ripped out tonight, and wasn’t that a shame. She petted him and laughed when he leaned his weight against her legs and almost bowled her over. “I’d rather hang out with you, dog. But guess I’m stuck.”

As the dog flopped back down, Kallie pulled open the heavy front door. After stepping inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The room smelled like leather and wood smoke, perfume and sex. It even sounded like sex. Over the music of a Gregorian chant, a man groaned, long and low. Slapping sounds were accompanied by a woman’s whimpering.

Kallie swallowed hard as the room came into focus. To the left, leather couches sat around a stone fireplace with a crackling fire, and past that, a naked man bent over, facing the wall. In the firelight, his pale buttocks displayed red welts in even rows.

Kallie’s eyes widened. Is this what Wyatt had meant by “you know”?

On the log walls, lanterns with amber-tinted glass cast circles of golden light, leaving other areas in shadow. She saw more seating arrangements here and there, defined by colorful rag rugs and dark red chairs. Farther down the room, people engaged in activities she couldn’t quite make out. Wasn’t sure she wanted to. The cracking sound-was the man at the end using a whip? Her hands closed into fists.

To her right, a blonde in a shiny latex catsuit held a lit candle over a woman tied to a desk. Wax dripped onto bare breasts. A splat. A gasp.

That looked…really painful. What would it feel like? To be unable to move. Naked. Waiting for something hot to land on your nipples. Painful or…erotic?

Her body said erotic. Her bra felt…tight, and even her baggy jeans managed to press on disconcertingly sensitive places. Okay, Wyatt had been right; she really wasn’t prepared for this.

The blonde caught her staring and gave Kallie an assessing look before smiling. Kallie sucked in a breath and nodded back. I’m cool. Experienced woman, seen it all in my time. Really. What the hell was she doing here? Morgan and Wyatt should have explained a lot more about the “you know” stuff. Oh, they were going to suffer-painfully-before she killed them. Maybe she could borrow that guy’s whip.

Then again, her cousins might not have realized… Maybe the places they’d visited in San Francisco weren’t as…much. Whatever. Well, now that she’d done as Logan had required and taken a look, maybe she could just sneak out and-

“You joining us tonight, baby?” A tall, skinny guy in a black biker jacket grinned at her.

Caught. “No, I’m not. Is Logan around?”

“That’s a shame. I’ll get him.”

As Kallie’s gaze followed the man heading for the back of the room, she spotted a woman chained, facing the far wall, dressed in only a thong. The guy in front of her held an English riding crop, and when he whopped her on the thigh, she yelped.

Kallie winced and somehow, weirdly, felt excitement trickle down her spine. Okay, I really, really need a beer.

“You made it.” Logan strolled up, gripping a lushly built woman by the scruff of her neck.

Kallie shifted her weight uncomfortably. Was that his fiancee, Rebecca? Kallie had met her in town only once. Aside from Jake, Serenity Lodge didn’t socialize much. A scream came from across the room, and Kallie amended that assumption. They didn’t socialize in Bear Flat much. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Ill at ease under Logan’s observant eyes, Kallie glanced at Rebecca and felt even more out of place. The redhead’s emerald green corset emphasized every full curve she had, and gave Kallie a moment of envy. Must be nice to have breasts. Her garter belt and garters held up black fishnet stockings, and a thin leather collar was around her neck. No other clothes, though-not even a thong.

Rebecca stared at the floor, hands clasped in front of her… Or no, padded leather cuffs fastened her wrists together. This was so not the polished woman whom Kallie had met, and worry gnawed at her stomach. Rebecca looked so subservient; surely Logan didn’t beat her. The number of scars on his knuckles suddenly seemed menacing.

“I’m glad you came,” Logan said.

She yanked her gaze from his hands. “Ah. I’m pleased to be here.” She shrugged, not wanting to say, You didn’t leave me much choice.

The wicked grin indicated he knew it anyway. “Let’s start with-”

“Logan!” A man called from the other end of the room. “Need you and Becca here.”

“Never fails.” Logan checked over his shoulder and frowned. “Hang loose, Kallie, and I’ll be back to show you what’s up.”

As Logan wrapped an arm around Rebecca, she raised her head and winked at Kallie. A wink full of humor and not frightened at all.

Relieved, Kallie relaxed a trifle. She realized she was wringing her hands and shoved them in the front pockets of her jeans. There. Look casual. She swallowed hard. Hey, I see people manacled to log walls all the time. You bet. It’s a popular sport in Bear Flat. Gonna replace fishing soon.

The Gregorian chants blended with other worrisome noises. Like the hissing of a man cuffed to a big X-shaped frame against the wall. His testicles dangled between his spread legs, and a woman was winding leather around them. Kallie winced. She might not have that kind of equipment, but three cousins and a couple of boyfriends had taught her a little about their painful vulnerability.

“Kallie?”

She jumped at the sound of a smooth, deep voice. A truly gorgeous man stood in front of her, slightly shorter than the Hunt brothers-maybe six feet-and older, with silver flecks in his black hair. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt and tailored black slacks, a very civilized look for the rustic lodge and a marked contrast to her battered field clothes.

“Yes, I’m Kallie.”

He held his hand out. “My name is Simon. Logan requested that I stay with you until he could return.”

Rescued! She shook his warm hand, uncomfortably aware how cold and damp her own must be. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Come, we’ll sit down by the fireplace. You can observe, and I’ll answer any questions you have.” He guided her to a massive leather couch and settled himself on the other end, relaxing with his arms stretched out along the back. Polite, friendly, not making any moves. She liked him already.

“I thought there would be more people,” Kallie offered after a minute. “My cousins said this was a club weekend.”

“In a way. We all belong to a San Francisco BDSM club, but we’re mainly friends who enjoy partying together and getting out of the city.”

So if Jake and Logan knew all these people, no weirdo would come at her with a whip and chains. Right? Just then a man walked past with a coiled whip attached to his belt. She eyed him, remembering the stuff from Serena’s romance novels. She would never have dreamed people did this in real life. Her discomfort increased.