Black And Blue: A Quentin Black Paranormal Mystery (Quentin Black Mystery Book 5)

by JC Andrijeski

  Eventually, his narrow lips pressed firm, right before he sighed.

  “None of that is any good to us, Betial, if he cannot do what we need him to do. Moreover, you told me before he is not even aware of us, correct? As per the treaty with Charles, no one in either of our camps who did not already possess that information was given it. So you would have to educate him in that matter, first.”

  “Or... not,” Brick said, shrugging. “He is hardly a fool. He will put the pieces together well enough on his own, particularly once he is inside the facility. Telling him in advance might only give him further reason to fight us.”

  Konstantin gave Brick a harder look below his black and iron-gray eyebrows. “There is much at stake in this. Our whole family, perhaps.”

  “I do understand that, sir. Believe me, I do.”

  “I wonder sometimes.” Konstantin’s eyes went back to scanning the horizon. “You seem to enjoy this work a little too much at times, Brick... even with your desire to free Lila. And you are too young to remember our first run-ins with the psychics.”

  Brick heard the real anger there.

  He knew some of it was aimed at him, at his supposed arrogance and refusal to abide in his place. But Brick had been warning the others, including Konstantin, about the dangers these foreigners posed from the very beginning. He hardly felt the need to pretend he was quaking in his boots now.

  The truce was a farce.

  All it had done was allow that fucker, Charles––or “Lucky,” as his followers called him––to gather strength and consolidate power. It had given him the time to build an empire, along with the time to seek out and draw more and more recruits into his fold, indoctrinating them into more and more zealous ideological beliefs.

  If it were up to Brick, he would have wiped them out while there were still only a few of them here. Then he would have assigned a permanent team of hunters to seek out and kill each new one as it appeared in the years since.

  He certainly wouldn’t have stood around and whinged and whined and wrung his hands while they made themselves formidable. Now Lucky was competing with them directly on the world stage, including in the business arena. The paltry tributes he paid would never justify allowing such a thing, not for those who never belonged here in the first place.

  This wasn’t their world. It belonged to Brick, and those like him.

  So no, Brick would not apologize.

  That this was an issue at all came from sheer stupidity on the part of the elders. The problem had been entirely preventable, and easily contained––until it was not.

  But they hadn’t listened. And now it was Brick they called to help clean it up.

  He gazed out over the smog-dusted landscape down to the ocean as he thought all of this, inclining his head once more, almost in a nervous tic. His voice held a hint of indifference when he spoke, likely another semi-conscious effort to needle the old man.

  “I take my job here very seriously, Konstantin,” he said. “If you are concerned about the seer’s ability to perform while wearing the collar... don’t be. He is trained in an impressive number of human skill sets as well as seer ones, many of which will benefit our cause greatly. If he can manage not to get himself killed while he adjusts to life inside, I have no doubt he will be able to accomplish the task we’ve set for him.”

  “And if Charles discovers we’ve planted him in this little menagerie?”

  “He won’t.” Brick’s voice was certain. “Charles has no assets at the facility. Truthfully, I have my doubts Charles even knows of it... or is aware of our exposure problems at all.”

  Again, Konstantin frowned, shaking his head without looking from the window. “And just how do you plan to capture him in the first place?”

  Brick smiled. Now the old man was just grasping at straws.

  “That part needn’t concern you at all, Patrón. It is already in motion.”

  “Already in motion?” Konstantin turned, glaring at him openly that time. “You have put this plan in motion? I and the Council expressly forbade you to take this course. You are arrogant enough to move forward with it, anyway?”

  “I was under the impression there was a rather urgent timeframe involved.”

  “When?” the other said, his voice pointed. “When will this take place?”

  “Would you like the full game plan, sir?” Brick said, his voice polite. “Usually such details seem beneath you, which is why I did not burden you with them today. But I am, of course, happy to oblige you in expounding upon the minutiae of our every move. You are welcome to attend our next run-through meeting, as well. I had asked them to meet me downtown in an hour, so if you would like to accompany me...”

  The old man waved him off, giving him a hard look.

  “You assume my approval still,” he said coldly.

  Brick fought not to smile again.

  “I assume no such thing, Patrón.” He made his voice reassuring. “I wished only to have the mechanisms at the ready in the event I was able to persuade you.” Pausing, he gave his voice an extra thread of meaning.

  “...Of course, I can be so sloppy about keeping people informed, as you know. I may have forgotten to conduct this meeting with you altogether... or perhaps I didn’t inform you of the full extent of my plans.”

  Brick paused, giving him another meaningful stare.

  “...Unless of course, you wish to forbid me outright, even now, when I’ve explained this is the only possible way forward that is likely to work. Then, of course, I will cancel the operation entirely and spend my evening doing far more pleasant things...”

  Konstantin gave him a shrewder look that time.

  Brick smiled, keeping his eyes blank.

  He knew Konstantin heard him. He was giving the old man a way out. He was offering to take full accountability for the operation, while giving the Council plausible deniability.

  The old ones were nothing but a bunch of cowards. They didn’t care how Brick did what he did, as long as they didn’t have to pay for it.

  When Konstantin said nothing, Brick went on politely.

  “...My person in the Los Angeles Police Department arranged everything for me weeks ago, but I can just as easily un-arrange it. Or we can pull the plug on the operation later, assuming something goes wrong. Capture is the easy part. We have much more control over the different variables out here than we will once he is inside. And he’ll have no way of knowing who put him there initially... not until I tell him.”

  Konstantin let out a faint sniff. “Your ‘person’ in law enforcement? Do you trust them?”

  “The ambitious ones are always cooperative, sir.”

  The old man didn’t smile. “Enough to fool one of these psychic scum?”

  Brick again fought not to roll his eyes. This fossil really didn’t understand how things worked at all anymore, did he? Brick didn’t need anyone’s cooperation for that end of things. Not anymore. They’d found their own ways of blinding the psychics.

  “It is all taken care of, Patrón. I promise.”

  The elder’s frown deepened, but he did not speak.

  Brick went on just as pleasantly. “Shall I call it off, sir? Or shall we assume I was less than forthcoming in this conversation, and you simply had no idea of the extreme and shocking measures I’d set in motion on behalf of the security of our race?”

  Watching as the old man turned back towards the tinted window, that frown still etched into his features, Brick hid another smile.

  He already knew what the answer would be, even before the old man turned.

  Konstantin gave him another of those shrewd looks.

  “I don’t remember you bringing up anything at all about a psychic in our discussion,” he said, his voice cold. “In fact, when I asked you about it, you specifically told me that you had discarded that plan, Brick... after I reminded you that to obtain a psychic for this purpose would directly violate the Council’s wishes.”

  Brick nodded. “That is how I recall
things as well, sir.”

  Konstantin’s red-tinted eyes sharpened.

  “I will protect our truce, Betial,” he added, his voice a touch colder. “Which means, should the psychics contact me in this matter, I will express condolences to them, and offer to help them if I can. If I must, I will even admit there is some chance a rogue among ours has acted past his mandate. If they believe this to be true as well, I will offer to help them track and kill that rogue.” His eyes held more of that colder meaning. “So do not leave your fingerprints on this operation of yours, Mr. Brick. Your life very well may depend on it.”

  Brick smiled, adjusting his tie. “Of course, sir. And all of your, well... diplomatic machinations certainly make sense, given your very rational terror of the psychics.”

  Konstantin’s eyes grew even colder.

  Brick only smiled at him, his face purposefully blank, and eventually Konstantin looked away. When he did, Brick’s smile faded, leaving his face as still as glass.

  Game over, fucker. I win.

  These old geezers might be shaking in their boots over the idea of fighting the psychics, but Brick certainly wasn’t.

  They feared a war.

  Brick found the idea positively delicious.

  3

  WINED AND DINED

  “REMIND ME AGAIN why we came here, instead of staying at the hotel,” he murmured. Tugging me closer, he put more light into his tongue and lips, pulling me deeper into his lap without taking his mouth off my bare skin.

  I was having a really hard time thinking about anything at that particular moment, much less the question he’d asked. After a few long-feeling seconds while he continued to work his way down my throat, I remembered enough, however.

  While I couldn’t recall the exact rationale he’d used, I knew our leaving the hotel was definitely his fault.

  “Are you sure?” he said, softer. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  “I’m positive, Quentin.”

  His hands tightened when I said his name, right before they yanked me deeper into his lap. He softened the moment I curled up against him, brushing the hair out of my face with both hands. I felt another flush of heat off him as he looked me over in the dress.

  “I think you must be remembering wrong,” he said.

  “You wanted to come here. To this specific restaurant. You made a big deal about coming here, as I recall... said you were going to order for me and everything.”

  He shook his head again. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

  I fought a laugh, mostly because it sounded exactly like him––but stopped when his hands slid under the edges of the gauzy dress I wore, wrapping around my hips. Despite the urgency I felt vibrating off him now, his mouth and light remained slow, deliberate... maddeningly so. My hands had already found their way inside his shirt, too. Within a few seconds more he was breathing harder, his chest moving under my fingers as I explored his skin.

  The restaurant was definitely your idea... I repeated in his mind.

  His teeth closed briefly on my shoulder. I could feel him holding back with that, too.

  Then you must have drugged me, he sent. Or pushed me while I was watching you shower...

  But I remembered the conversation now.

  Given that we were staying at probably the nicest hotel in which I’d ever stepped foot, including with him, I would have been perfectly happy to stay there and try out the poolside restaurant. With its outdoor fire pits, plant-covered trellises and lit waterfalls overlooking a stunning view of a pristine and private corner of Santa Monica beach, it evoked a remote island paradise, even for Los Angeles.

  Supposedly a lot of celebrities stayed there. Black mentioned that fact to me casually, while we waited for the desk clerk to finish making us keys.

  I’m not much of a star-stalker type, but I admit I was curious.

  Black wanted to come here, though, which was apparently the most high-end Mexican restaurant in existence. We hadn’t eaten anything yet, but the smells coming from the kitchen were dizzying, even with the curtain in place around our private booth and the insanely expensive wine he’d ordered, which I could still taste on both of our tongues.

  Even with the jaw-dropping card the waiter provided with all of the wines the restaurant offered, Black still managed to order off-list. After a few pointed questions about the contents of their cellar, he settled on something I’d never heard of before.

  It’s good though, right?

  Amazing, I admitted. I don’t even want to know how much it cost.

  I’m spoiled, he sent, massaging my thigh. I like spoiling you.

  I laughed, shaking my head. Spoiled is one word for it.

  Do I want to know another word for it?

  Leaning my forehead against his, I shook my head. Probably not.

  Sliding my hands deeper into his shirt, I continued touching him. I felt his light starting to open for real, right before his body softened all at once.

  Gaos, Miri... what are you trying to do to me?

  You started this.

  We might need to stop... or leave. I’m not kidding, doc.

  You’re the one who wanted to wait before, I reminded him. I wanted to have sex in the room, but you wanted to eat first...

  He didn’t answer, but I saw his jaw harden.

  I tried to remember if leaving would be complicated, if we’d even ordered food.

  Knowing Black, he’d worked out some private deal with the waiter before we’d made it to the booth. I definitely got the impression they knew him when we walked in. I hadn’t asked, especially after the leggy blond in the sheer, white, micro-dress working the front desk gave him a suggestive smile and squeezed his bicep before leading us to our table.

  His fingers tightened in my hair before I could fully wrap my head around that train of thought, either. Then he was kissing my mouth, dragging my leg up and around and between his and pressing it up against his crotch. I let out a low gasp when he did it a second time, and his light flooded mine, turning hotter and more liquid.

  Gaos, Miri.

  Pulling his light back with tangible frustration, he glanced past me in the direction of the curtain separating us from the rest of the restaurant. Once he had, I felt him tense. Without looking, I could tell he’d seen something. Whatever it was, it sent a flood of aggression running through his light.

  “Gaos,” he muttered. Have mercy on me, Miri, please.

  In what respect? I glanced over my own shoulder to see what he was looking at.

  A man in a dark blue suit stood at the bar. He wasn’t close, but he’d positioned himself right in line with where the curtain parted a few inches, and was watching us with overly-interested eyes that pretended to be casual. I felt Black wanting to close the curtain on his stare, or maybe get in his face. Touching his jaw to get him to look back at me, I spoke aloud.

  “In what respect, Black?” I repeated.

  He looked up at me, scowling. In all respects. We’re both fucking hypersensitive right now, okay? So just... please... remember it’s not only you. I’m really trying not to be an asshole.

  A hotter plume came off his light, along with more frustration.

  That being said, if that fucking guy keeps looking at you like that, I’m going to do something that might get me arrested... and then probably drag you out of here by your hair and fuck you in the car.

  He looked up at me again, exuding another pulse of that hotter frustration, along with a denser feeling that might have been embarrassment.

  Miri, I’m being somewhat serious. I felt you in the car. I’ve felt you thinking this bullshit for awhile now, about how you think you’re reacting to us more than I am. You’re wrong. You’re really fucking wrong. I might know more about it, and I might be able to control it marginally better at times, but trust me, I have all the same issues. Pretty much all the time. I’m paranoid as fuck about you, Miriam...

  I looked down at him, pursing my lips. I wasn’t surprised that he’d been readin
g me, but his actual words surprised me.

  He’d seemed fine with us. Cocky, even. Now he seemed genuinely frustrated by me. Where was this coming from?

  Did you hear what I said at all? he sent, sharper. Or are you selectively interpreting it with your analyst’s brain again?

  “Of course I heard you,” I said, stiffening.

  Was he actually pissed at me?

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No... I’m sorry.”

  Exuding more frustration, he looked away, taking a sip from his wine glass without letting go of me.

  I’m not saying there’s some problem with us, Miri. There’s zero problem with us, as far as I’m concerned. He glanced up at me again, gauging my reaction as he swallowed the wine in his mouth. I just want you to know you can ask me anything, ilya. Anything at all. I know I’ve been really bad about that. Especially with how easily distracted I’ve been. With you, I mean.

  He made one of those graceful gestures with the hand holding the wine glass.

  ...I’m not even sure what you want to know anymore. I can figure some of it out by reading you, but you’re still really damned good at blocking me. Pausing, he gave me another of those more penetrating looks. So if you want to know something about me, ask me. I want to ask you things too. I want to ask you a lot, truthfully... I also want to talk about intimate things. But if we go there I really am going to want to fuck. I can’t control that. You get that, right? So we probably shouldn’t do it here.

  Feeling my jaw harden slightly, I nodded. That denser pain in my chest started dissolving though, and I realized at least some of that had been fear.

  Fear of what? Did I panic because he got serious on me all of a sudden? Was I worried this was going to be one of those “relationship talks” where he told me something I didn’t want to know? Like he was bored, or I was too controlling? Or the woman in the white micro-dress made him realize he wanted other women?

  Some part of me had actually been waiting for him to comment on her.