Read The Haunted Sultan (Skeleton Key) for Free Online Page A

another celebration, another pursuit of pleasure. The incense burned, the sounds of pleasure drifted out on the night…until one night screams were heard instead of the sounds of Oriental music.”
    The air was suddenly filled with the smell of jasmine and the heady fragrance of incense. It tickled the inside of the Sierra’s nose and filled her stomach with desire. A wind brushed across her back and the touch was sensual, as if a hand had touched her. It sent shivers down her body. Her skin broke out in goose bumps. She inched closer to Owen and he looked down at her, his nostril’s flaring as if the same sensations were affecting him.
    “Did you feel that?” he asked. His eyes were wide in surprise. Sierra nodded quickly, fear trickling into her stomach.
    A scream cut through the night. It ended in a strangled gasp and everyone in the tour froze. A small yelp came from someone in the group.
    Was it a party goer, or did it come from the house? The question was whispered over and over again within the tour group. They all waited for something else to happen. Was it real? Was someone screwing around again?
    The block had gone deathly quiet. Nothing could be heard. They were close to a major street, Rampart, which was always teaming with cars. Not even the sound of traffic could be heard, or the drum of music from a neighborhood bar. Nothing.
    As the quiet permeated the group, unease was evident on everyone’s face. This was unnatural. They should be able to hear something. Anything. Something clattered, shattering the silence as the wind picked up and swirled down the street. It brought with it the smell of jasmine and incense again. It had to be burning somewhere, maybe in the cemetery that lined the other side of Rampart? The air was choked with the smell.
    “Uh…” The tour guy wasn’t looking confident anymore. He took his top hat off and ran his fingers through his long hair.
    The smell of the incense was having a strange effect on Sierra. Her fear was melting away, replaced with desire. The fragrance was addictive and something she had never experienced before. She enjoyed the smell of burning incense, but this was such a different scent from anything she could get at her local head shop. The smell was overpowering, it smelled like sex, silk sheets and sweat.
    She looked down to find her hand had slipped into the hand of the man next to her. Owen. Mr. Yummy. Their fingers were entwined. Had she grabbed his hand, or had he grabbed hers? She didn't know, but she wasn't complaining.
    The heat of his palm traveled up her arm and she shivered. She wanted him to slip his arm around her. She wanted to feel that heat all over her body. Her thoughts surprised her. She wasn’t one for casual sex or throwing herself at strangers. She didn’t even know this man’s last name and she wanted to pull him into a dark alley and molest him.
    The smell faded as fast as it came and the sound of the street returned. Everyone in the group shifted uncomfortably and looked around. They looked up at the scary house in front of them and whispered amongst themselves.
    The tour guide put his hat back on his head and seemed to regain his composure.
    “On the following morning,” the guide said, jolting everyone with his loud stage voice as he continued the story as if nothing had happened. “After the screams were heard, neighbors walking past the house noticed the guards were gone, the door was open…and blood could be seen seeping onto the street.”
    Another scream ripped through the night.
    It wasn’t coming from someone in the tour group. It wasn’t coming from some passerby being a douche. It was coming from across the street. It was coming from the house across the street. The Sultan’s Palace.
    And it was obvious it was a female’s scream. A female’s scream of pain.
    “Shit,” Owen cursed. His face had gone white.
    Sierra’s head shot up and she stared at the house again, sensing movement. She gasped when she saw him.