A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7)

by H. P. Mallory

  “Right, this place doesn’t exactly have a lot going on. Hence why Knight brought you here. He figured this prison would be under any and everyone’s radar.”

  “If you weren’t so nice to look at, I might actually be offended that I’ve been left in the care of a new cadet,” he continued.

  I shook my head. “That’s not entirely true. You do have Judah and Ernie.”

  He frowned. “Right, and what exactly would they be able to protect me from?”

  I shrugged to say I didn’t have an answer for him. “Well, luckily for you, this is a small town and easy to overlook. So if anyone is searching for you, this would probably be the last place they’d look.”

  “It’s just a matter of time before someone locates me,” he said with a shrug. Then, his eyes settled on me and narrowed. “And who’s to say what they’ll do to you? Although we both have a pretty good idea, I’d wager.”

  “Let anyone try,” I answered with steely resolve.

  He didn’t reply but just nodded before his eyes dropped to the plate of spaghetti in my lap. “You gonna eat all that?” he asked with sincere interest.

  FIVE

  After we finished eating our lunch, I managed to breathe a little more easily because it meant the time for idle chitchat was over. I was increasingly anxious to move on to the more serious questions that needed answers. Well, that is, as long as Jax decided to play by the rules he’d previously agreed to …

  “Okay,” I started, watching him polish off the last bite of my spaghetti and meatballs. He’d already downed his submarine sandwich, which, in a word, was … large. The dude had a serious appetite. ’Course, being the size of a Titan, what did I really expect? “I have questions and you have the answers.”

  He smiled immediately but it was a smile which unsettled me. Why? Because it reminded me of the Cheshire Cat—something mildly perverse. At the same time, his grin also hinted that he still had the upper hand, or believed he did.

  “You certainly are a woman who cuts right to the chase.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I replied as I shook my head and regarded him coolly. “Case in point—we’ve been sitting here for the better part of thirty minutes, talking about a whole lot of nothing.”

  “Ah, yes. And for that, I am very grateful, and will forever be in your debt,” he said in a mocking tone to which I didn’t respond.

  He sat back on his cot and plopped both of his large feet out in front of him, stretching his arms above his head before exhaling audibly. Even through his prison uniform, I could detect his bulky and sculpted arms, as well as his defined chest. This guy was strong, probably as strong as they came. It was something I didn’t dare lose sight of. If the shit hit the fan and I ever found myself squaring off against him, I had no idea what would happen. Actually, that wasn’t true … I did know what would happen. My fairy powers would be useless against a Loki; meaning, I would basically be as good as dead. Well, that is, unless I had my Op 6 loaded with dragon blood bullets. Then he’d be as good as dead.

  “Funny, Jax,” I answered with a straight face. Clearing my throat, I let my poker face take over as I remembered the mountain of information I still needed from him. I wasn’t sure how willing he would be to part with any of it. “So, you were the second highest in command in Crossbones?”

  “You have a good memory,” he answered in a slightly patronizing way, which started to irritate me. Then I reminded myself that I shouldn’t take anything Jax said, or did, personally.

  “How many people are below you?” I asked.

  He shrugged and clasped his hands together above his lap. He looked about as contented as was possible, given that he was jailed and lying on a hard cot which, by definition, wasn’t exactly comfortable. “Ah, maybe three hundred or so foot soldiers obey my command.”

  I didn’t know what to make of that number at first—whether that was a lot of people beneath him or not a lot. But the more I thought about it, the more it concerned me, because Crossbones was only one in a bunch of potions rings. And if each of the crime rings operated with a few hundred or more members, that was definitely bad news for the ANC.

  “How does Crossbones compare to other potions rings in the Netherworld, in terms of troop numbers?” I asked. I immediately remembered Knight saying something about the various factions of potions organizations and how they were all vying for powerful positions in the new Netherworld order. That was a sticking point that bothered me. Knight also mentioned those rings relied on their strength in numbers, even if they couldn’t cooperate long enough to pose any sort of serious threat to the ANC. Nonetheless, as far as I was concerned, any threat to the ANC had to be taken seriously. And I had a feeling it was simply a matter of time before the bad guys started to smarten up and assemble against the ANC, the bigger threat, in their minds.

  “We’re one of the bigger organizations,” Jax answered with a shrug. “Mayhem might be tied up there with us by now, but all the others are smaller.” Then he appeared to reform his answer. “’Course, seems they’re growing bigger every day. Ever since your father got his ass killed, we’ve been eager to see one of our own take his place.”

  “How did you know Melchior was my father?” I demanded while eyeing him narrowly. My stomach dropped to my toes as my breath caught in my throat. He’d acted so nonchalant about throwing that point out there; and yet, I was more than sure he knew exactly what he was doing. Yes, Jax was definitely good about keeping me on my toes. I had to be just as good at keeping him on his.

  “You know, this cot is mighty comfortable,” he said with a knowing smile. Then he tapped the open space of cot beside him. “I could move over and make enough room for you to squeeze in that tight little ass of yours?”

  “How did you know Melchior was my father?” I repeated. My voice sounded like shards of glass scraping over metal.

  “Or if you’re still a little shy, I could just scoot all the way over and we could sit side-by-side until you warm up to me?” He smiled lasciviously as his attention fell to my hips. “Either way, I’m dying to get up close and personal with that fine ass.”

  “Cut the crap,” I warned him, my heart racing. “How did you know Melchior was my father?”

  He shook his head, like that information was no big deal. “I’m in the business to know, baby. It’s what I do.”

  “Who told you?” I persisted, trying desperately to regain control of myself and the situation, but there was no denying how shocked I was by his zinger.

  “No one who matters.”

  So he wasn’t going to confess anything, meaning, I’d have to let it go. It seemed the harder I fought, the more Jax dug in his heels. Granted, it was beyond frustrating, but I chose not to focus on it. I had to move on. After pondering his admission that the crime rings intended to see their own gain power in the Netherworld, instead of Caressa, I decided that juicy tidbit was something I should further explore.

  “So do you think any of these gangs are a real threat to the ANC?” I asked, putting to rest the question of what else Jax knew about me personally. I sensed he had more ammunition with which he’d zing me again, when the time was right.

  Jax was silent as he appeared to consider my question. He theatrically drummed his long fingers against his thighs and then whistled absentmindedly for a few seconds.

  “Really?” I asked, shaking my head with obvious irritation. “Do you have any idea how completely annoying you are?”

  Glancing over at me, he smiled broadly, his dimples in full effect. “I admit that I actually enjoy annoying you. It’s just so easy.”

  “That’s probably true,” I agreed with a heartfelt sigh. “But I also have to hand it to you: you appear to be irritating by nature.”

  “Ouch,” he said with a chuckle that rocked the entire cot. Then he stopped laughing and inhaled deeply. “I think you’re probably right—I seem to have the innate ability to get under anyone’s skin.” His gaze dropped to my bust, before landing on the junction of my
thighs. “And I’m not sure about your skin, but I’d love to get inside your panties.”

  “Your charm knows no bounds,” I answered with a faux smile before taking a deep breath and changing the subject. “So, let’s get back to the potions rings,” I began again, giving him an expression of impatience and pronounced discouragement. “Do you think they pose a real threat?”

  “Yes … and no.”

  I waited a few seconds for him to explain, but he just sat there, smiling at me dumbly. “Yes and no? What does that mean?” I hated having to force the subject, and was unable to hide my irritation. I knew I should have kept a better handle on myself, as well as my reactions to his annoying comments, but Jax was beginning to exasperate me. And if there was one thing I knew about myself, it was that I lacked patience.

  “Yes, from a pure numbers standpoint; the rings have power. No, because they’d have to band together to have any hope of defeating the ANC; and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not what?” he fired back at me. “Why would I love to get into your panties? Well, for starters, your body seems to have been designed for pleasuring a man and I’m a definite boob man. Although that ass of yours is starting to make me rethink my stance …”

  “Oh my God, will you give it a rest?” I demanded as I exhaled my frustration, even as I warned myself to calm down.

  “I’m hoping I’m breaking down your resistance.”

  “All you’re doing is giving me a major headache,” I admitted, none-too-happily. “So unless you want me to leave right now, stick to your end of the bargain and answer my questions.”

  “While I will admit that if you did decide to leave, I would enjoy getting an eyeful of that round little ass of yours, I promise I’ll be good from here on out.” Then he stopped talking to smile at me. “Deal?”

  “As long as you’re being sincere.”

  “I am.”

  “Okay, deal,” I answered, still giving him a frown so as not to encourage him. Then I cleared my throat and returned to the subject at hand. “Why don’t you see the potions rings banding together anytime soon?”

  “To make a long story short, we hate each other almost as much as we hate you Regulators,” he replied with another laugh.

  “So let’s say you put aside your differences temporarily with one another?”

  He nodded. “It would take a strong liaison between the top three rings; or maybe the top ring and four to five smaller ones,” he concluded before taking a deep breath. “The ANC is still too powerful a force for any one ring to take on and expect to win.”

  “So if you joined forces with two or three rings, do you think you’d be powerful enough to go against the ANC and ultimately prevail?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “Something like that.” Then his smile broadened. “But don’t worry your pretty little inexperienced head about it. Leave all the problem solving to the problem-solvers.”

  Angry heat filled my cheeks, but after a few deep breaths, I managed to maintain my composure. He was trying to get under my skin again, to throw me off. It was my sole responsibility to prevent him from succeeding. The truth was that Jax knew exactly which buttons he needed to push with me. And he’d figured it out in record time …

  What was becoming more and more evident was that even though Jax was our prisoner, we were by no means in the driver’s seat. He still had us where he wanted us; and it was up to him whether or not he released the information we were after. Yes, we could have always tossed him out onto the streets and left him to fend for himself despite all the death threats he was convinced were out there. But the chances of us abandoning him were nonexistent.

  If he refused to give us what we sought, the worst that would happen was he’d remain our prisoner. I had a feeling he was okay with that. On the other hand, if he answered all of our questions, and we could prove the truth in his statements, of course, we would provide him with the protection he desired. At the very worst, he’d only become another inmate in a system where protection was somewhat standard. So, in reality, there was nothing left for me to threaten him with, which left me in a very precarious position.

  “What other organizations could you unite with?” I asked, pretending like I hadn’t heard his last comment.

  “Not me,” he corrected. “I’m out now, remember?”

  “What other organizations could Crossbones unite with?” I rephrased, albeit glumly.

  He shrugged as if to say he didn’t know. “I didn’t say Crossbones was looking to join up with anyone.”

  I frowned to let him know I wasn’t swallowing his BS. “There was no reason for you to bring up that whole uniting against the common enemy bit if your organization never even considered it!” I exclaimed. “And I’m sure your boss is more than intent on seeing himself as the new Head of the Netherworld.”

  “Of course,” Jax answered quickly, drawing his eyebrows together in an expression of mild irritation. “But who wouldn’t?”

  I, for one, wouldn’t. But I didn’t admit that much to him because I didn’t want our conversation becoming personal again. I was having a hard enough time trying to steer it away from me and my “tight little ass” as it was.

  “So, tell me, Jax, based on your evaluation of the nature of crime rings, and their requirement for strength in numbers, doesn’t it follow that Crossbones would try to team up with other rings, if only so your boss could take the place of Melchior?”

  “There is more than one way to skin a cat,” Jax replied loftily.

  “If we call that way number one, then what’s way number two?” I asked, but Jax immediately shook his head, obviously refusing to answer my question. Rather than growing impatient or angry with him, I swiftly shifted to my next subject. “Tell me about the potions your organization supplies.”

  “What would you like to know about them?” he asked, his tone suddenly more childish and fun. “What colors they are? What do they taste like? Which one is my favorite?”

  I inhaled deeply while reminding myself to stay cool despite how far beyond tiring he was becoming. “I’m starting to reach the conclusion that you are incapable of answering any question without trying to drive me to insanity.”

  “Maybe I simply want to see what you’re really like when you drop that reserve of yours you’re trying so hard to maintain,” he answered. Sitting up straight, he then leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’d love to know what Dulcie O’Neil is like when she’s spontaneous, and not pre-calculating every word.”

  “Who says I do that?”

  “I can read you like a book,” he answered with a shrug. “You’re trying so hard to play the tough cop; but inside, you’re nothing more than a little, scared recruit. An amateur who is trying her best to fill shoes that are two sizes too big.”

  Great! He’d bought my lie about being new to the ANC. That was good. The less he knew about me, the better. That he knew Melchior was my father still unsettled me, but maybe he’d just surmised as much from our last names. And if such were the case, I’d already given too much away by admitting it. Damn. Score for him.

  “I’m not scared,” I responded in a matter-of-fact tone. He stood up and approached me, gripping the bars in front of him. I didn’t flinch or take a step back; I held my ground, bent on proving, once and for all, that I wasn’t afraid.

  “I wonder how scared you’d be if you were locked inside this cell with me right now,” he started in a low voice.

  “I would never put myself in that position.”

  “Would I beat you senseless?” he continued, as if I hadn’t said anything at all. “Or would I push you against the wall, wrap my hand around your throat to keep you immobilized as I found out for myself what that tight little ass of yours feels like?”

  I swallowed hard. No, I gulped audibly. I couldn’t help it.

  Dulcie, keep yourself together! He’s just pushing your buttons. You can’t react! I told myself, trying to ignore
the fires of indignation inside me that raged. My hands were already fisted at my sides of their own accord. It took all my effort to talk myself down from the precipice. My temper flaring, I was ready to go, and full steam ahead. But once that happened, I knew I wouldn’t be able to rein it back in. So it couldn’t happen.

  It took me a few seconds before I found my voice again. “What sort of potions does Crossbones supply?”

  He eyed me narrowly for a few seconds, apparently disappointed I hadn’t lost my cool. Then a smile formed on his mouth as he pushed away from the bars. He walked to the far end of his cell before turning around and walking back toward me. He reminded me of a tiger trapped in a cage far too small.

  “We’ve got the standards: ArsonFire, Marsh Root, Angel Breath,” he began with a shrug before pacing back to the other end of his cell again. “But you can pretty much find those anywhere.”

  “But those aren’t all Crossbones supplies?”

  “You’d be right on that supposition,” he affirmed while approaching me again. “There are only two potions we are known to exclusively provide,” he continued, this time pausing right in front of me. “Thissel and DragonFire.”

  Thissel was a relatively new street potion. I’d only come across it three or four times in the last few months. A small, black pill, the size of a Tic-Tac, it looked innocuous enough, but when placed beneath the tongue, it instantly dissolved, hitting the blood stream relatively quickly. Thissel was also addictive in its sense of euphoria, which could last as long as a few days. The worst side effect to the euphoria, though, was the victim’s inability to keep breathing. Take too much Thissel, and you could end up with permanent brain damage, or comatose.

  “I haven’t heard of DragonFire,” I admitted, being careful not drop my guard or allow myself to appear uncomfortable despite his rigorous, penetrating stare. Truly, his incessant wolfish glances were nowhere near as off-putting as all the crap that came out of his mouth.

  “That’s because it hasn’t hit the streets here yet,” Jax explained with a quick shrug of his immense shoulders. Pushing against the cell bars, he extended his arms out straight in a stretch. He again reminded me of a large, feral cat in captivity. Definitely an apex predator. “We were working on widespread distribution.”