Refresh

by Suzanne Steele

  He fisted her hair on both sides of her head and pulled her in, tenderly kissing her. “And I won’t let you turn me into a pussywhipped wimp you can drag around by the balls, so this should be fun. However, if it will make you stay, I’ll do anything I can to subdue his demented nature and change his black heart. You must understand, though, that if he proves to be evil through and through he will have to die. It will be out of my hands.”

  “All I’m asking you to do is try.”

  He smiled softly and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “So virtuous. Much like the true Almighty, you desire for all to be saved from their wretched natures. Perhaps you are the good to my evil, the light to my dark.” The smile that had started out so gentle shifted into a sneer at the thought of corrupting her–for the sake of saving mankind, of course.

  “But for the grace…” she whispered sincerely, her eyes haunted.

  It made him wonder what secrets she could be hiding in her heart. He slowly shook his head, perhaps more surprised than even she at this turn of events. “God, I do love you. Stay with me, Electra. Think back to when you first saw me in that basement. You were the only one coherent enough to be aware of what was going on. I deliberately did that. Watch the news and you’ll see. The others have been rescued, but they have no memory of me and, according to the media, you were never abducted at all.

  “If you’re trying to make sense of all this, then how do you account for those women’s memories being wiped clean? I have come to realize that our union was preordained. There are no coincidences in your life, ever.”

  He knew she’d watch the news reports before she’d let herself believe. He didn’t expect her to believe the craziness he was telling her without some kind of proof. Normally he never would have told her, but the whole ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ thing applied in this case.

  “Follow me.” He held out his hand, giving her a choice and resisting the urge to make her. What was it about this woman that spoke to his need to control her?

  She took his hand and he led her through a maze of hallways. When they reached two enormous, intricately carved wooden doors, they stopped. He released her hand and grasped both door knobs, turning them and pushing the doors open wide. He gestured for her to enter, and smiled to himself when she did. She marveled at the walls of books that reached to the ceiling. A ladder on rollers was at the ready for books on the highest shelves. He thought about the movie ‘Beauty and the Beast’ and couldn’t help but smile. It was a fitting analogy for the two of them.

  “You can explore later. There’s every genre imaginable.” He took her hand again, leading her over to a carved-out shelf in the wall. He pulled a large crystal candelabra back in his direction and a hidden door slid open. He turned cold, unyielding eyes toward her as they stepped into a darkened hallway. “You must never speak of this room.” The eerie glow of his eyes sent a chill through her that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  When they reached their destination, the lighting didn’t come from an overhead source. The eerie glow of computer screens dimly lit a roomful of technology that looked like something out of a CIA documentary. Regardless of what Inc was, he was powerful. That was becoming more obvious with each passing moment.

  None of this made any sense. Was he ex Special Ops? Did he work for the government? Or was he just a mega-billionaire vigilante? The more she got to know him, the more of a mystery he became and the more she was drawn to him.

  Even though her studies had been in the medical field, criminal psychology had always intrigued her most. Even when she read books for pleasure, serial killers and alpha males had her flipping pages long after midnight. She liked her mysteries dark and dirty; ironically, that was a perfect description for Inc.

  “We still have a sex trafficking operation that’s out of control, and the perpetrator is off the grid. And our mutual friend,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “with whom I had planned to ‘discuss’ the matter, is dead.”

  “Randy? What happened to him?!”

  “Oh, I’m afraid Randy got in a little too deep and lost his head.”

  “Oh.” As much as she hoped it was just a figure of speech, something told her that she probably didn’t want to know the details. “So Randy’s dead,” she said flatly. “Who killed him? And why?”

  His only answer was to shrug. He would need to decide how much he could tell her, and there were still certain things he didn’t know himself.

  “Can’t you conjure, I don’t know, a spell or something to find out?”

  His belly laugh warmed her like an embrace from a long-lost friend. She hated herself for the pleasure she got out of pleasing him. His arched brow and crooked grin let her know he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “Fuck you, Inc,” she huffed and turned away to hide the twinkle in her eye.

  He leaned in behind her, his soft whisper tickling her ear. “Next time, it will be you fucking me. I like changing things up. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath. I’m serious about conjuring up some supernatural mojo here. If you’re an angel, can’t you just, you know, sprinkle magic dust or something on them to make them stop?”

  “There are rules, boundaries, certain lines that can’t be crossed without disturbing the balance of the Universe. The choices and actions that are necessary to re-establish balance can be…difficult.”

  “Oh,” she said, turning to face him once more. “So when it comes to me there are no boundaries, but when it comes to catching a psychopathic sexual predator suddenly you follow the rules? Give me a fucking break, Inc.”

  Lightning fast, his hand was around her throat, not squeezing particularly tightly, but applying just enough pressure to send a ominous shiver down her spine. “You’re a smart girl, Electra. Underestimating me would be such a foolish thing to do.”

  Not much scared Electra; hell, even Randy hadn’t been able to. The only thing that had worried her about Randy was his instability. Inc, however, was calculating in his manipulation. Deliberate. Methodical. He knew what he wanted and he would do whatever it took to get it, and they both knew he wanted her.

  His head cocked to the side, he looked down at her from his towering height through narrowed eyes that seemed to discern her every thought and emotion. He relaxed the pressure of the hand around her throat and added his free hand so he could cradle her face. He fought the urge to purr like a cat as his thumbs stroked her velvety skin. The soft texture of her physical presence soothed him, but could not eliminate all that weighed on his mind. “You know what?” he said with a frown. “I’m scared.”

  He seemed more surprised by his admission than she was. His brutal honesty about something most men would consider a weakness only endeared him to her. He continued, “Not because I have any doubts about how far I’d go to keep you, but because I honestly can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to keep you. No limits, Electra. No prisoners. No mercy.”

  She swallowed. “How about we focus on how to catch a kidnapper or whoever killed Randy? Then we’d get some answers to some questions.”

  “Deflection…interesting. What a wonderful tool for a scared little girl to use. We’ll have to develop your deception skills. The whole ‘read you like an open book’ thing isn’t going to work for you anymore. Not in the brave, new world in which you now find yourself. I’d hate to see you get killed by someone’s hand other than my own,” he smirked.

  “Really. Well, how is the whole ‘I’m an arrogant ass’ thing working for you, Mr. I Think I’m An Angel?”

  He stepped back and just looked at her. She put her hand on her hip and her eyebrow arched, as if she really expected an answer.

  “You’re adorable,” he declared. Then, as if nothing had transpired, he set about showing her the room they would use to catch a killer.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Candy-Bar had shortened her nickname to Candy a long time ago. Her johns liked to tell her it was beca
use her pussy was sweet like candy, but her working girl friends knew the truth: she never missed a chance to steal candy bars from local convenience stores.

  But a girl had to eat and she needed more than a damn candy bar, which was why she’d agreed to meet Wolf and his partner at the Louisville Slugger. The diner was something of a tourist icon and also an affordable option for someone on a budget. She looked across the Formica table at Wolf and Reese like they were her last hope for outrunning a killer.

  She glanced skittishly over her shoulder as she made small talk with the detectives. She was trying to blend in and not draw attention to herself, but she also didn’t have all day, or all night, as was the case at the moment. She had clients waiting and they wouldn’t wait forever. They’d cruise by her street corner once, maybe twice, looking for her. Then they’d just find a different pussy. Much like a hairstylist, she tried to accommodate everyone if she possibly could; she never referred regular customers anywhere else because they might not come back and she needed every customer to stay nice and loyal.

  Candy was pushing 40 so she figured her time for making serious bank while still maintaining some modicum of dignity was fast drawing to a close. Soon enough, she’d be giving ten-dollar blow jobs in parking lots, for a distinctly different, distinctly smellier clientele. So for now, she was all about production. Volume. As with any sales position, the magic was in the numbers.

  She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and sipped her coffee. “So whoever killed that guy saw me. He knows I saw him. You don’t understand how things work on the street; there’s no way he’ll let me live.” She pushed aside the coffee Wolf had ordered for her and glanced out the window again, her big brown eyes brimming with tears. As much as she craved the boost she’d get from the cup of joe, the last thing she needed was caffeine to shred her already brittle nerves.

  The restaurant’s fluorescent lighting made her feel like she was under a spotlight with a big-ass target on her back. The huge picture window beside their booth fed into her paranoid notion that someone could easily shoot her. After what she’d been through recently, her imagination was wreaking havoc on her. She was scared to death that the man who had killed Randy was coming for her next. Fear had turned to paranoia, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think crazy was just around the corner.

  “I keep telling you, it was dark. I couldn’t see anything but shapes. Of course, he has no way of knowing that. As far as he’s concerned, I saw everything and could probably tell you which way they were hangin’, if you know what I mean. He’d be wrong, of course.” She put her head in her hands, then resumed wringing them on the Formica tabletop. “I can’t take it, Wolf. Every time I get in a car with a guy I don’t know, I wonder if it’s him and he’s going to do me like he did that guy while I’m suck–.”

  She looked up from the consuming task of wringing her hands. The dark circles under her cognac brown eyes were evidence she hadn’t been sleeping since she’d seen that man after his throat had been slit from ear to ear. “Well, you know, while I’m doing my business…on him.”

  Wolf placed a comforting hand over hers. “Candy, baby, look at me,” he said in a soft yet authoritative voice. “I promise you, you remember more than you think. I want you to do a cognitive memory exercise with me.”

  Fey rubbed her hands together in glee. “Oh boy, this is right up my alley. Assume the position.” She sat on the top of the booth’s partition, cross-legged with her hands resting palm-up on her knees and her face tilted upward as if she were waiting for divine inspiration. “Proceed.”

  Wolf shot her a ‘shut the hell up’ look, then schooled his features to not betray his annoyance with his sister. He resumed his efforts to extol information from their key witness. Hell, she was their only witness.

  “Close your eyes, Candy.” When he was satisfied she’d closed them and was ready, he continued, “I want you to clear your mind of all unnecessary thoughts and distractions. You’re walking around the corner of the alley with the john. What do you smell?”

  “Piss, liquor, and garbage,” she muttered with a grimace. “The dumpster lid is up like the winos have been sifting through it for cans or something.”

  “What are you feeling? Tell me about your emotions in that moment.” Wolf’s voice took on a soothing, smooth quality, even as Reese stared at him like he’d never seen him before. Wolf calmly gave him the finger, never taking his eyes off Candy as he continued talking. “Are you calm? Nervous, maybe? Worried about anything?”

  “I’m aggravated because the john’s been drinking.”

  “So you’re concerned about him?”

  “Hell, no; I’m worried he won’t be able to get it up, that he’ll either take for-fucking-ever to cum or demand his money back.”

  “Okay, you’re doing great, baby. That’s good. Now you haven’t seen the body yet. What draws your attention to it?”

  She frowned, her eyes still closed, and turned her head slightly to the side as she struggled to recall the scene. “A cat comes jumping out of the dumpster. We both laugh because it spooks us. I cling to him like I’m Little Bo Peep and he’s my protector. Men love that shit. Anyway, it lightens the mood. We watch the cat take off down the alley and he makes a joke about not having to chase pussy when you pay for it and it makes me feel like shit. That’s when I see the body. I freeze at first; I’m staring at a dead body and trying to understand exactly what I’m seeing. There was so much blood. The guy’s head was just sort of hanging off at a weird angle.

  “The john takes off running, of course. He just wanted a blow job and doesn’t want the stink on him if the police show up and start asking questions. So I’m all alone. I turn to run but I see something.”

  “What do you see?” Wolf asks, almost tenderly.

  “I’m straining my eyes, trying to make it out. I see a dark figure walking away at the far end of the alley. I remember wondering why, if he’s the killer, he isn’t running away.” Her voice lowered and she began to shake. “That’s when he laughed. When I screamed, he laughed.” She opened her eyes and looked at Wolf. “It was the most evil sound I’ve ever heard. He’s coming for me, Wolf, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that couldn’t happen.”

  “Can’t we put a tail on her or something?” Reese asked. He knew she was right to worry. He wanted to do something, anything, to help her out.

  “Oooh…gorgeous and smart. You know he’s right, brother. I’ll do it; let me follow her. You can’t kill a woman who’s already dead. I’d make the perfect detective.” Fey reached down and smacked the edge of the table, laughing at her own joke and sending a sugar packet sliding across the table.

  This was the hardest thing for Wolf about his late sister just showing up where she hadn’t been invited: trying to answer her in a way that didn’t sound like he was out of his damn mind. Only Fey could insist she was a ghost when in all reality she was an angel. His sister had never had the ability to go with the flow, in life or in death. There were angels who had come back to earth with no wings, and would move mountains to earn them, but no…not her. She had them and wouldn’t even use them. She’d rather walk through walls and haunt poor unsuspecting victims.

  Wolf shook his head. His sister was a supernatural court jester.

  “I heard that,” Fey said and glared at her brother. “You do know that you don’t need to say it out loud for me to hear you, right?”

  He didn’t bother answering his sister’s sarcastic, rhetorical question. He decided it would be better to give in to her than suffer whatever kind of mischievous retribution she would surely come up with.

  “No worries. We’ll keep an eye on you, Candy. You’ll never even know we’re there.”

  “Thought you’d see things my way, brother dearest.” Fey batted her eyelashes at him and shot him a saccharine-sweet smile.

  Wolf ignored her and kept talking to Candy. “You know, baby, the bes
t thing you could do for yourself is start stripping and quit hooking. Don’t you have any friends who strip?”

  “I know a couple of girls who work over at Saints and Sinners. It’s pretty classy and they say the money’s good. I hate being on the streets and I’ve been wanting to quit hooking anyway. You know, a girl can only do this for so long. It makes you old before your time, you know?” She shook her head sadly. “When I started it was supposed to be a once or twice thing until I could get back on my feet financially, but three years later and I’m still out here. The streets have a way of dragging you down and then you can’t get away.”

  “Look, you’ll get no judgment from either of us. You’ve got plenty of life left to live, Candy. Don’t live it out here on the streets. Check in with your friends and I bet they’d be happy to get you a job at Saints and Sinners. Just make sure you call me and let me know that’s where you’re working. Type in your contact info and address here.” He slid his phone over toward her, keeping his tone all business so she didn’t think he was hitting on her. She did what he asked and slid it back over in his direction and he offered her a little unsolicited advice. “In the meantime, no more johns. No rides in cars with men, whether you think you know them or not. And look out your peephole before you open your door.”

  Reese spoke up. “Candy, if this guy is after you, we’ll do everything we can to get him. Let’s not forget, you didn’t get a good look at him. Did he get a good look at you?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Whatever you were wearing that night, burn it.”

  “I didn’t even think of that.”

  “You might want to dye your hair too. I doubt he could see well in that alley but if I were you I wouldn’t be taking any chances.”

  She’d always thought about dying her hair a darker shade, maybe even black, just to change it from her natural, plain brown color. Maybe she’d go with an auburn or even blonde. She would do whatever she had to, to keep that sick, psycho, knife-wielding killer from cutting her throat from ear to ear.