by LJ Vickery
Jake slowed and turned, getting a quick look at his captor before she slipped backward out of sight. Yup. It was the cleaning lady. Jake chose not to answer her question, but asked one of his own.
“What have you done with Anna Kensilton?” He faced forward again. “I’m trying to locate her, and this is her apartment.”
“What do you know about her?”
He could swear the woman’s voice shook.
“I know that if you harmed her in any way, there are a shitload of people who are going to be very unhappy with you.” That was an understatement. If this woman had hurt the Abelards’ mother, there might be nothing he could do to keep them from tearing her apart.
“What people? Nobody cares about her. Who do you work for?” Curiosity along with fear rang in her voice.
“Why don’t you let me put down my hands and we can sit on that comfortable couch of yours,” he gave a sarcastic chuckle, “and have a chat?”
“Not on your life, douchebag. How about you stay as you are, and I call the cops to arrest you for breaking and entering?”
Jake called her bluff. He didn’t think―with what she might be scamming―that the woman would want the police anywhere near. “Go ahead. Call the authorities. But I’ll guarantee I won’t be the one who ends up in trouble.”
He could feel the woman assessing him from the top of his head to his brand-new sneakers. “What are you, a fed? You do have cop written all over you.”
There was that uncertainty in her voice again.
“DEA,” he admitted. “My credentials are in my back pocket if you’d like to see them.”
“Drug enforcement?” Now he could hear the confusion in her tone. “If you’re looking for drugs, you’ve got the wrong apartment. You had time to go through my vast estate.” She snorted. “No drugs, no paraphernalia, no place to hide anything.” There was a pause while she pondered. “Lower one hand, grab your badge, and drop it on the floor. Use your foot to kick it back to me.”
Jake did as he was told, not making any sudden moves. He’d seen her gun in the quick peek he’d taken, and it looked like a cobbled together piece of shit. He wouldn’t be surprised if a bad twitch would make it fire. His wallet hit the floor and he booted it back to her. “You’ll find everything in order,” he assured her.
“Jake Marsthall. San Francisco? What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Finally, we’re getting somewhere,” he sighed. “I was hired by an independent…group to locate and retrieve Anna Kensilton. This was the last known address they had for her.” He didn’t let her interrupt. “Now, you should tell me where she is, and why you’re in her apartment.” There was a long moment of silence behind him. “And don’t tell me, it’s not her place, because I already know it is.” The baby pictures of Tess, Holly, and Hux had cemented that one. He could almost hear the gears turning in the woman’s head as she made up a good story. This was going nowhere. He’d let her spin her tale. Then he’d have to disarm her and force the truth.
“I’m her, umm, cleaning lady and she’s away for the…winter months…in Florida. She’s old you know, and she goes to Florida. And she lets me stay here while she’s gone.”
It was plausible, but Jake was adept at reading people, and the story didn’t ring true.
“Fine.” He’d go along with it for a moment. “Get her on the phone to confirm it, and I’ll leave you alone,” he said amiably. “I’m not looking for trouble. I’m just trying to do a simple missing persons retrieval.”
“I…I don’t have a phone number for her,” the woman lied. “She’ll be back in two months.”
It was February, and Jake knew the lie would buy her time to relocate.
“Let’s cut the crap,” Jake said, lowering his hands. “She’s not in Florida, and you don’t have permission to use her apartment.” Jake tried out one possible scenario. “Do you want to know what I think? I think you were either her friend or her cleaning lady when she got sick and died. You found out she had some cash stashed away. So, you pretended to be next of kin, had her buried, took the rest of her money, and then moved into her apartment. This coat of paint,” he indicated the walls, “looks fresh. I’ll bet she hasn’t been dead long, and the rent’s all paid up for a few more months. So you figured, what the hell?”
The breathing of the woman behind him became more agitated, but he continued.
“I get it. Some extra cash, a free place to stay? You work hard and this let you get a little ahead on things,” Jake soothed. “I’m not here to bust your ass. All I need is a death certificate with a cause of death, and I’m out of here.” Some part of Jake hoped he surmised correctly. From what he’d been able to tell from the woman’s posture in the darkened hallway, she seemed down on her luck and very tired.
“She’s not dead,” the woman stated, “and I can’t tell you where she is. She…she’s afraid someone might come after her, and she doesn’t want to be found. Can’t you just leave her alone?” Was Jake imagining things, or did her voice break?
“It’s not an option,” Jake softened his tone. “The people looking for her care about her very much.”
“Nobody cares about her.” The vehemence with which the words were delivered, momentarily floored Jake.
“She’s had nobody for years,” the woman continued. “There’s not a soul alive who would want to know her whereabouts,” she said with finality.
“What about her children?” Jake’s voice dropped even lower. “Her children want to find her. They’re the ones who sent me.”
The woman took a quick stuttering step and muffled a sob. “No. No, that can’t be true.”
Jake could hear the pain in her reply. What the hell was going on? Was this remorse for killing someone she’d understood to be a recluse?
Wrenching cries tore from the woman behind him. She was fast moving into hysteria. Jake was afraid of what she might do with the gun in her volatile condition.
When he heard her fall to her knees, he spun around and tackled her backward to the floor. She dropped the gun, and instead of fighting him, curled up in the fetal position as they hit the ground.
What the hell? Jake softened his hold, but maintained his grip on the woman. He’d knocked her ever-present kerchief askew, and bright blonde curls ran riot in their attempt at escape. Her body rocked and convulsed, and before long, Jake was doing more to hold and comfort her than to restrain her.
He couldn’t help himself. He inhaled her minty fragrance and became aware of how well she fit up against him. His cock stirred with semi-interest. Idiot. She was either a psychopath, a murderer, or both, and his male parts should behave themselves.
As she calmed and became aware of her position, she leveraged away from him a few inches. Her head remained bowed, and she struggled to wipe tears away with her one free hand. The other was trapped beneath them. Jake used the small distance, and tugging the scarf from her head, handed it to her to mop up. Her unruly golden hair mesmerized him. She wiped her nose.
“So where do we go from here?” Jake inquired gently. “Do I turn you in to the local authorities?”
It was the wrong thing to say. Without warning, a familiar energy swirled around the woman in his arms, and using a fucked-up strength he had only recently become acquainted with, she broke free of his hold and leaped to her feet.
Jake lay still on the ancient carpet, shaking his head. When he finally looked up, the woman was in fighting stance, glaring down at him as if daring him to continue. Slowly, while holding one hand out in a stop sign, he rolled to his knees and took a good long look. Gray eyes regarded him warily.
“Ah, hell,” Jake deflated, bringing back his hand and running it through his short-cropped hair. There was no mistaking those features.
“Goddamn it, Anna Kensilton. You’re a fucking immortal.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ken watched his sister walk into the house where her book club meeting was being held. He didn’t see anything out of the or
dinary. Damn. How would he really know? Invisible immortals and demons were beyond his human senses. He sure hoped Candy and Absu would be back in action soon.
He perused the women who filed in. There was a resplendent variety. Despite Charlie thinking he was in the dark, Ken knew what his little sister was into. And if he enjoyed the scene, he’d have asked Charlie to introduce him to a few, but he liked his sex a little tamer.
Wouldn’t his sister be surprised to know that he was aware of her sexual proclivities? What kind of a big brother would he have been not to have checked out all her past boyfriends, including the dickhead, Hal? Charlie had met him at Spankeez downtown, which had clued Ken in right away. It was a notorious BDSM club, and his sister had haunted the place since she’d turned twenty.
Personally, he didn’t like the choices she’d made, but she was old enough to decide how she liked her sex, and he had no right to interfere. He was just glad she would be Absu’s mate soon and under the proper god’s thumb. The immortals had a thing about not hurting their women, so even if play got rough, Absu would never hurt Charlie. Hell, he didn’t know whether the uptight god would agree to do half the things Charlie would want. Thank God, it wasn’t his problem. They’d have to work it out.
Ken did a double take at the woman walking to the front door. Elvira-glam was the only way he could describe her. His tastes ran to zaftig blondes with ample attributes, but this one would turn anybody’s head. Her hair was jet black and her skin porcelain pale. She looked almost cadaverous, but there was nothing corpse-like about her breasts. Man, oh man. Enormous tits sat above a tightly muscled ribcage. How did he know? The pale-yellow T-shirt she wore was almost sheer and pasted onto the woman’s curves. He had no doubt she’d be a tiger in bed. And most likely a Dom. No submissive could possibly look like that. Ken would almost relish getting his ass spanked by that one. Oddly though, she looked familiar. Did he know her? Ken shook himself at that thought. Where would he have met someone like her before?
Maity popped up from sleep in the backseat, and he dragged his mind off the woman who rang a familiar bell. “You awake, love?” he chirped at her.
“Doggess.” Maity, unlike other toddlers, always came alert in an instant, usually demanding something.
“Sweetie. There are no dogs around.” Ken looked up and down the street. Ever since she’d met Archie the dog at the compound, Maity had been using the new word and driving them crazy. He hoped it wouldn’t be long before she could be with Archie full time. He already had an urge to get back to the Blue Hills. Funny how much he liked that assignment. What started out as punishment had quickly morphed into a closeness that he wouldn’t have believed he could feel for any group other than his DEA buddies. Speaking of which, he needed to check in with the California group.
“Doggess.” Maity turned her head and looked straight at Ken.
“Yeah, okay, honey. Uncle Ken has to make a call, so keep it zipped for a minute.”
She looked mutinous, so he figured he had about a minute and a half. He punched “call” with his thumb.
“Hey, Gramps,” Ken called out the affectionate nickname the bunch used for Mike Pelwick, who was prematurely gray. “Everything wrap up okay today?” They’d had a minor bust down in Chinatown early on, and Gramps had complained heartily of the paperwork he was expected to file since he was covering for Jake.
“Just finishing up, asshole. Thanks for asking,” Gramps said good naturedly. “How’s Candy-Land?”
“When I left the house with Charlie, she’d collapsed into bed with a major goddess migraine. Enlil says it’ll be gone in the morning, so I’ll be in the office then. Don’t worry.” Gramps didn’t like being in charge, especially without the whole team behind him.
“Good.” Gramps changed the subject abruptly. “You got Maity with you?” All the guys loved the little girl. At Ken’s affirmative, Gramps cajoled. “Hold up the phone and let me say hi.”
“Softie.” Ken chuckled. “When are you going to find a woman and make babies?” The man was seriously muscled eye-candy, even if he was gray.
“Fuck you. Just put my little peach on the phone.”
Ken twisted in his seat and held the phone to Maitlynn’s ear. An instant smile graced the girl’s face, and cooing ensued.
A few minutes on the phone and he finally got Maity to say bye-bye. He didn’t need any more distractions from watching the house. He leaned back, putting the phone to his ear to end the call with Gramps, and realized the device was dead. How long had the baby been talking to herself? Oh well. He’d plug it in to charge as soon as he got home. Ken popped in a CD for Maity. Enzo Garcia did the trick to keep her occupied. The toddler clapped her little hands, happily engaged.
****
Beletseri narrowed her eyes. She’d told Matthew to keep to the shadows and make his way around the back of the house to wait for further orders. He had complied, but from her seat on the couch, her goddess vision showed her that curiosity gripped him. Bel had revealed this was a BDSM book club meeting, and knew he was dying to see what a group of women got up to when talking about the scene. She watched him creep to the big back slider, open in deference to the balmy February evening, where he could hear everything being said.
Charlie spoke, and drew her attention away from the door. “I’m glad you found us okay,” Charlie said to her.
“GPS is a wonder.” Bel smiled, but any additional talk was cut off by a call to order.
“Who wants to start on this month’s selection?” the woman who was obviously in charge asked.
Several impromptu replies came back, but one woman raised her hand to be called on.
“I loved the whole premise of this book,” she said. “A getaway for couples who play, surrounded by likeminded vacationers?”
“I know,” spoke another participant. “It made the whole idea of voyeurism more acceptable. I’ve toyed with the idea of public sex, but performing and offending an unsuspecting witness…well, let’s just say that baring all to a group of consenting adults would make me a lot more comfortable.” There was a chorus of agreement.
“I liked that the tour operators gave lectures on different sex practices. I wouldn’t mind a little help with my blowjobs.”
There was a round of laughter. “Although, when I don’t perform up to par, I get punished.”
There was another round of “oohs.”
Bel watched Matthew squirm in the shadows, and smiled to herself. Thinking about an entire room full of women, horny and submissive, had to be making his cock ache. Sure enough, she watched as he palmed the front of his jeans. The action made her hot and bothered, when it behooved her to concentrate on the plans they were making for the lovely Charlie. Or pay attention to the moderator.
“We have a special speaker tonight, who’s brought a selection of toys to show us,” she said. “I know you’re all familiar with a lot of these, but there might be some surprises. Carla?”
The woman named Carla came forward and pulled something from a large black bag. After a dramatic number of indrawn breaths, Bel saw Matthew inch closer to also have a look.
“I’m going to give you a little insight tonight into a new restraint system. You’ve probably all been in a sex swing, which is great fun, and most of you have used the spreader bar, but here are two new pieces of equipment that are fun and just as effective. Can I have a volunteer?”
Hands shot up all over the room. Fifteen women had been crammed into the small living room, and everyone wanted to try out the new toy. Bel wondered if Matthew could smell all the wet pussies.
A lush-assed woman was chosen, and went forward as the lucky guinea pig.
“This gives a submissive the maximum amount of spread when she’s on her back with her legs in the air. You know how your thighs get tired after he’s had you in that position for too long, and his hands aren’t holding you up because they’re busy doing other things? This little sling works like a charm. Let me show you.”
The volunteer was
placed on her back on the floor. The speaker wound a wide nylon cord with padding behind the woman’s neck and attached the other ends of the cord to the woman’s feet, threading a third braid from left foot to right. She tightened some buckles until the woman’s legs were in the air and spread.
“Now, let your feet relax. See? The legs are supported by the neck muscles, and play can be prolonged. The wider you’d like your legs, the looser you make this third cord.” The woman let off on the buckle, and the volunteer’s legs fell farther apart. All the women in the room clapped, and Bel joined in. What a fun device. She wondered if Matthew would enjoy playing with one.
“Now, we have something very special.” She helped the woman on the floor get up, and sent her back to her seat once all the restraints were off. Again, the audience was rapt. “Every one of us loves being fucked up against a wall, but who is ever the same height as their lover? Or whose Dom is actually strong enough to support your body during an entire fucking session? Sound like a familiar problem?” Women nodded and giggled. Bel wasn’t one of them. Matthew, although not a god, had proven he could handle her body quite nicely, thank you.
“Here, I have the over-the-door harness. It attaches to the top of any door with these two simple, yet safe, clamps. The attached sling can then be brought to any height. It comfortably loops under your butt and around your thighs, spreading you nicely for his pleasure. It leaves his hands free, and you are not trying to match his height by standing on tiptoes and getting leg cramps.”
This toy seemed to garner a lot more interest than the first. Bel wondered why any female would put up with a Dom who wasn’t strong enough to support her.
Interestingly enough, Charlie was the one who showed enough interest to try this one out. That meant she didn’t yet know that the enclave she’d fallen into back in the Blue Hills was populated by strong gods. Good. As Charlie was trussed against the door, it was time to bring Matthew in. She picked up her phone as if it had indicated a call.