by I. T. Lucas
Eleanor was half a head taller than the guy, had wider shoulders and more muscles. It never ceased to amaze her how clueless men could be. Did he really believe that she wanted to have sex with him?
Pulling out the desk chair, she flipped it so the back was facing the bed, and straddled it. “Don’t mind him, Wesley. He’s not going to touch you.”
Not physically, but he was definitely going to touch the guy mentally to erase his memories of their encounter.
Wesley let out a relieved breath and looked at her expectantly.
“I’m not going to touch you either, so you can wipe that hopeful expression off your face.”
“Harsh,” Peter murmured.
She turned her head to glare at him. “Would you stop with that? He’s not going to remember any of it anyway. Why waste time on being nice?”
Leaning against the dresser, his arms folded over his chest, Peter lifted one dark brow. “Why not? It will make you feel better about yourself.”
“It won’t.” She turned back to look at Wesley.
After hearing their exchange, he’d finally figured out that he wasn’t getting laid tonight, and he looked positively terrified.
“Why can’t I get up?”
“Because I told you to sit, and you’ll stay seated until I tell you it’s okay to get up.” He looked even more scared. “I’m a hypnotist,” she added, to give him an explanation he could accept. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m going to ask you a few questions, you are going to answer them truthfully, and then I’ll let you go.”
After Peter took care of his memories, but she didn’t see the need to mention it at that point and scare the dude even more.
“What do you want to know?”
“How long have you been a member of Safe Haven?”
“Two years and seven months.”
“That’s long enough to notice things that are not a hundred percent okay. Did you see or hear anything that seemed suspicious to you, or that bothered you?”
Hopefully, the guy wasn’t a psycho and his sense of right and wrong was still functioning properly. But if not, she was just going to rephrase the question.
“Emmett.” Panic flared in the guy’s eyes, making it obvious that he hadn’t intended to say that but had been forced to by her compulsion.
“Don’t worry. Emmett is never going to find out about our little talk. You are safe.” She embedded the last sentence with more forceful compulsion.
Wesley’s shoulders slumped. “I think he is rough with the women he has sex with. He preaches kindness and gentleness, but I don’t think he follows his own rules.”
Eleanor frowned. “Are they bruised when they leave his bedroom?”
Wesley shook his head. “I didn’t see any bruises, but they look like crap when he’s done with them. Exhausted, disoriented. I’ve noticed that many don’t show up to work the next day. It takes them twenty-four hours to recuperate, and yet they can’t get enough of him.”
Wesley sounded a little jealous. But her compulsion didn’t allow him to make the stuff up. He had to believe it to be true.
“Perhaps he’s exhausting them with fabulous sex,” Peter suggested.
“That’s what I thought too,” Wesley admitted. “But the guy is in his late fifties, and yet he fucks at least two every night, and sometimes three or four or five. That’s physically impossible.”
“Maybe he takes Viagra,” Peter suggested. “That would make him hard for hours.”
Eleanor glanced at him over her shoulder. “How would you know?”
He smirked. “I have human friends.”
Wesley gasped.
“Ignore him.” Eleanor waved a dismissive hand. “It’s a joke.”
Wesley smiled.
Damn. Had she compelled him to do that by saying that it was a joke?
After all the years she’d been compelling people, she was still learning how to use it precisely.
“Did you notice anything else other than Emmett’s sex partners looking exhausted?”
“Yeah. No one talks about booze. We don’t have any, and no one seems bothered by it. That’s unnatural too.”
“Have you asked anyone about it?”
He shook his head. “I figured that if no one else missed booze, something is wrong with me. I didn’t want to appear frivolous.”
Evidently, everything that Emmett didn’t want in his community was labeled frivolous. Alcohol, vacations, the freedom to choose which colors to wear, and having doubts.
She turned to Peter. “Anything else that you want to ask?”
“Money. Are you guys being paid?”
“We get an allowance, which we can use to buy stuff in the community’s store.”
“What if you want to buy something the store doesn’t have?”
“We can put in a request, and if enough people ask for the same thing, the store manager gets it for us.”
Peter pushed away from the dresser and sat down next to Wesley. “Doesn’t it bother you that you have no idea what’s going on in the outside world? You don’t have television, internet, or even newspapers or magazines.”
The guy shrugged. “The people here come to escape the ugly outside world. I’m glad that it’s not allowed in here.”
Talk about brainwashed. Apparently, the only thing they hadn’t managed to expunge from his brain was the love of booze.
“Anything else?” She looked at Peter.
He shook his head.
“I don’t have anything either. Please escort Wesley out, and after you’re done doing your thing, come back here. We need to talk.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can get up, Wesley.”
As the two left, Eleanor reflected on what the guy had said about Emmett. Was it possible that he was an immortal?
That would explain the compulsion ability and the incredible stamina. Compulsion was a rare ability even for immortals, so maybe he was thralling his people instead. If the guy was powerful enough and clever about it, thralling could be just as effective as compulsion.
The problem with that hypothesis was that neither Leon nor Peter had sensed it. Their built-in alarm warning them about potentially adversary immortal males hadn’t been triggered.
Then again, they had only seen him once, and they hadn’t been seated near the front where Emmett had stood. Perhaps that was why they hadn’t sensed him?
As the door opened and Peter walked in, she motioned for him to take the chair she’d vacated. “How did it go?”
He smirked. “Dear Wesley is going to sleep with a smile on his lips. I thralled him to remember that he had sex with you.”
“Pervert.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you create a porn film for him with me starring in it naked?”
He lifted his hands. “I don’t know what you look like under your clothes. I just used my imagination.”
“Please, never imagine me naked again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Right. As if he meant it.
“While you were making a porn flick for Wesley, I was thinking. What if Emmett is an immortal? That would explain the stamina.”
Peter shook his head. “First of all, I would have sensed it if he was. And secondly, his sex partners would have left his bed looking invigorated, not exhausted. The venom is a miracle drug.”
“True. I forgot about that.”
He pretended shock. “How could you? Greggory would be so offended.”
“Screw you.” She flipped him off.
59
Anastasia
Cleaning was an activity Anastasia usually found calming, but not today. She was a bundle of nerves as she waited for the call about her father to come in.
Would she be able to pull it off?
She was a decent actress, but not great, and they would probably watch her closely. She needed to give the performance of her lifetime.
But why was she stressing over it so much?
What was the worst tha
t could happen? They would tell her to pack her bags and never come back?
Ana sincerely doubted that. With the money she was funneling into the community, they wouldn’t be so quick to get rid of her.
And yet, she felt as if she was orchestrating a major heist just so she could enjoy a week-long vacation with Sam. Something was wrong with her.
But what if the cause of her stress wasn’t the subterfuge that she needed to pull off to get out of Safe Haven, but the prospect of spending a week with Sam?
The sex was phenomenal, but what if that was it? What if he got bored with her? What if she didn’t want to return to Safe Haven but didn’t have a choice?
That was a stupid thought. Even if things didn’t work out with Sam, she had plenty of other options. The problem was that most of them scared her, and the only place she’d ever felt truly safe in was Safe Haven.
Her thoughts were running around in circles and not making any sense.
As the door opened and Riley from the office peeked in, Ana’s heart skipped a beat. There was only one reason the woman could be looking for her.
“Anastasia.” She walked in with a pained expression on her face. “I’m afraid that I have bad news. Your father’s wife called. He’s in the hospital.”
Ana clutched the duster to her chest. “What happened?”
“He had a stroke. Your stepmother left a phone number for you to call. Come with me to the office.”
As the tears rolled down her cheeks, Ana dropped the duster on the floor and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God. What am I going to do?”
Riley patted her back. “You are going to call your father’s wife, and hopefully she will tell you that he is doing fine.” She wrapped her arm around Ana’s shoulders. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Nodding, Ana let Riley lead her out of the room.
The offices were a good ten-minute walk away, and by the time she made it there, her shirt was soaked with tears.
Why the hell was she reacting like this to a lie? Her father hadn’t really suffered a stroke, and she was not going to hear any bad news when she called the number his wife had left for her. Had it even been her?
Probably not.
“Here.” Riley handed her a note with a number scribbled on it. “I’ll get you an outside line and then give you some privacy.”
After putting in her access code, she handed Ana the handset and left the room, but didn’t close the door behind her.
Not that it mattered. The call was probably monitored.
With her hands trembling for no good reason, Ana dialed the number.
“This is Joseph, Mr. Gaboviv’s personal assistant. Who am I speaking to?”
She didn’t remember her father having an assistant named Joseph. Was he a recent hire? Or were the name and title fake?
“This is Anastasia. What’s going on with my father?”
“I’m so glad you called. Your father is stable at the moment, but he wants you by his side.” He sighed audibly. “I don’t want to scare you, but you should get to the hospital as soon as possible. Things can deteriorate unexpectedly.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Which hospital is he in?”
“Cedars-Sinai. The address is 8700 Beverly Boulevard in Los Angeles.”
“What is he doing in L.A.?
“He was attending a business meeting in Beverly Hills when he collapsed. Your stepmother is on her way as well.”
“Are you with him now?”
“Your father is in intensive care. I’m outside in the waiting area.”
“Is there a way you can let him know that I’m on my way?”
“I can ask one of the nurses to deliver the message.”
“Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, Ms. Gaboviv. I’ll see you here.”
As soon as she put the handset down, Riley returned. “Is your father okay?”
“He is stable, but his assistant said that I need to hurry up because his condition might deteriorate unexpectedly.”
“I can arrange transportation to the train station. I can also find out when the next train to Los Angeles leaves. But first, I must get Emmett’s approval.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Since this is an emergency, I don’t expect him to refuse. You can go to your room and start packing. I’ll get you when I have everything ready.”
“Thank you.”
Only when she was out in the hallway did Ana realize that she hadn’t told Riley that her father was hospitalized in Los Angeles. Just as she’d suspected, the woman had been listening in on the conversation.
Good thing that her performance had been perfect. Too perfect. She’d actually felt pain in her chest as if her father was really in danger. They didn’t get along, but he was all she had.
Well, that wasn’t true. She also had Margaret, and she needed to find her and say goodbye.
Damn, that thought triggered another outpouring of tears. What if she was never going to see her friend again, and this was goodbye forever?
Margaret was probably in the library, researching material for her workshop.
Thankfully, her friend was the only one there, and as soon as she saw Ana, she pushed to her feet and rushed over to her. “What happened?”
“My father is in the hospital. He had a stroke.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Margaret pulled Ana into her arms. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m heading out to Los Angeles. He was in a business meeting there when he had the stroke.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Ana shook her head. “Just give me a big hug.”
“Always.” Margaret crushed her to her chest. “He’s going to be alright. You must believe it. Emmett says that beliefs have power, and when you are a true believer, you can bend reality to grant your wishes.”
“Yes. I know. My father is going to be okay.”
60
Leon
“You are on.” Eleanor leaned toward Leon and pointed at the guy waving at her from the dining hall’s entrance. “That’s the staff member I asked to keep an eye on our girl. I told him to find me and wave after the thing we were waiting for happened.”
Eleanor had been whispering so quietly that none of their lunch companions could hear her, but she was still thinking in human terms, which was why she’d been talking in code.
Leon pushed to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not done eating,” Peter complained.
“You don’t have to come.” Leon put a hand on his shoulder.
They’d already finalized their plans as best they could, and they could forgo goodbyes. Leon was probably going to see both his teammates in a week.
“I’m coming.” Peter grabbed two slices of bread and sandwiched the grilled chicken breast between them. “I’m taking my lunch to go.”
Leon had expected the call to come in the morning, but it seemed like organizing the fake hospitalization of Anastasia’s father had taken Turner longer than he’d thought it would.
The guy was good, but he wasn’t a miracle worker.
“Are you all packed?” Eleanor asked when the three of them stepped out into the hallway.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you don’t need Peter and me to help you get on that bus?”
“I’m sure.”
Eleanor didn’t look happy, and Leon wondered whether she was worried about staying behind with Peter.
“You are going to be fine. I don’t expect you to spend more than a couple more days here.”
“I don’t know.” Eleanor tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I still need to find out what you-know-who does to the women to make them look like crap afterward, and I can’t just compel my way into his bedroom. Peter and I need to come up with a plan.”
“You could issue him an invite,” Peter suggested. “And check it out for yourself.”
The glare she cast his way would have petrified a
less courageous man. But then a calculating gleam appeared in her eyes. “You know what? I might do just that.”
Eleanor wasn’t beautiful, but Leon thought her attractive, nonetheless. The problem was her abrasive personality. If Emmett was a compeller, then her best talent would be useless on him, and regrettably, her second-best talent wasn’t her seduction technique. But who knew? Maybe Emmett was into assertive women with witchy eyes and a mean streak.
When the three of them entered his room, Leon walked over to the dresser and put the remaining items into his duffle bag.
Eleanor eyed the rolling suitcase by the door. “I still think that Peter and I should accompany you to the bus. What if your shroud doesn’t extend to your luggage? We can compel and thrall the people on your way.”
“I can manage the shroud.” Leon lifted his suitcase.
“So this is goodbye.” Looking oddly discomforted, Eleanor pushed her hands into her pockets.
“Are you sorry to see me go?”
She shrugged. “I got used to working with the two of you. It was fun.”
“You still have Peter.”
The guy put his arm on her shoulders. “It’s just you and me, babe.”
She flicked it off. “That’s why I’m sorry to see you go. I’ll have to deal with him on my own.”
“You wound me.” Peter put a hand over his heart. “I thought we were pals.”
“Behave.” Leon pulled him into a quick one-armed embrace. “Keep an eye on Eleanor.” Realizing that she could have misunderstood his meaning, he clarified, “I meant to keep you safe. I trust you.” He embraced her briefly as well. “Good luck, people.”
“Yeah, you too.” Eleanor clapped him on the back.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Leon cast an invisibility shroud around himself and his luggage and stepped out of the room.
As he’d expected, the shroud held just fine, and he made it to the bus without incident.
The driver wasn’t there, but the door was open. Leon climbed in and walked down the aisle to the last row.
Several minutes later, the driver returned, and as his eyes registered the surprise, Leon took hold of his brain and thralled him to believe that he was supposed to be there, and that he should pay no attention to him, or even look in his direction. Once he and Anastasia were dropped off at the train station, he would erase himself from the guy’s memory.