by Marty Rayne
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Phaze
www.phaze.com
Copyright ©2007 by Marty Rayne
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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Journey to the Dark Side
a Phaze Force HeatSheet by
Marty Rayne
Phaze
6470A Glenway Avenue, #109
Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
eBook ISBN 1-59426-997-1
Journey to the Dark Side © 2007 by Marty Rayne
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Cover art © 2006 by Kathryn Lively
Edited by Michelle Dowdey
Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.
www.Phaze.com
Also by Marty Rayne
At the Edge
Chapter One
Jared fingered the leather leash. It was stiff and unyielding. The scent of leather assaulted his nose, drowning the musty smell of the office. At the end of the leash was a matching black collar that would be fastened around his neck.
"Surely there is another way, ma'am.” He looked at his superior over the many files stacked on her desk. They smothered the lone picture of her family. Special Agent Sawyer was in her forties and well respected in the FBI. Behind her, on the wall, were several plaques expressing appreciation for the work she'd done. Admiration well earned.
She gave him her steely, serious look. “You will work with Detective Street on this and do exactly as she says."
"Did you see the things she sent over? Do you realize what she's got planned?” He held up the leash and collar before remembering the blinds on the window were opened. These were the last things he wanted his fellow agents to see him with.
Sawyer's brow raised and her lips twitched ever so slightly. The look made him grind his teeth. After working under her command for the last two years, Jared realized that the look was her way of showing amusement. He didn't like to be found amusing.
"We are not the primary unit on this case, Agent Keller. As a favor, we are helping with man power. Until this case is over, Detective Street is the OIC. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am,” Jared forced out.
"Good. Now, meet her behind this establishment in an hour. She'll fill you in on the case.” Sawyer shuffled through the papers in front of her. Finding what she sought, she handed him a card with an address on it.
Jared stood, put the leash back into the bag, then started for the door.
"Agent...” she said, getting his attention once more, stopping him in the doorway. “You don't have to like this assignment, but you are one of my best. You'll do anything to get the bad guy.” She paused and made eye contact with him. “Don't disappoint me."
Jared gave her a slight nod, then exited the office. He would get this killer. He didn't like how he had to do it, but he'd get the job done.
Chapter Two
The smell of rotting trash and urine from the alley assaulted her nose. She was more than ready to get inside. Of course, Monica wasn't sure her new partner would be as enthused once he saw the room she'd reserved for them. Staying in a fetish brothel would most likely be a new experience.
Monica watched as the dark haired, six-foot-tall man walked toward her. She glanced at her watch. At least he was punctual. Then again, wasn't that how the FBI conditioned their people?
"Agent Keller?” She gave him the most welcoming smile she could muster. She didn't really want to work with a stranger. They were unpredictable, but she had little choice since she'd been forced to call a friend of her father's and ask for help.
He nodded. “Jared. You must be Detective Street."
"The one and only. Call me Monica.” She tried to keep her tone light as his eyes assessed her. Every inch of her. Heat flickered wherever his gaze touched, sending small shivers up her spine. “This way,” she said turning from him, blocking out the softest green eyes she'd ever seen.
Monica opened the door behind her and started up the stairs without looking back to see if he followed. His steps almost immediately echoed hers throughout the stairwell. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and unwanted arousal swam through her veins. Without looking back, she somehow knew his gaze was focused solely on her, sending a delicious quiver to her stomach. Monica led him down a quiet hall on the second floor until they reached room number five. Once they both walked in she closed and locked the door, giving them the privacy they would need.
Jared's gaze swept the room. Monica loved seeing a newbie's reaction to the unusual world she was raised in, where most of its players were either dominant or submissive. Occasionally you found a switch, but those individuals were rare finds.
Monica was impressed that very little emotion showed in his body language as he took in the four-poster queen-sized bed in the middle of the room with its manacles attached by chains to the thick wooden posts. Turning in a circle, he continued his inspection. The burgundy walls were bare of decorations, but had a variety of metal rings in strategic places around the room. She was intrigued when his gaze had lingered on the cabinet of toys on display.
His expression told Monica very little, but his eyes were like windows to his emotions. Jared might be able to hide his thoughts and reactions physically, but his eyes betrayed the unease he felt.
"Interesting,” he said calmly, turning toward her, but she saw a little glint of fear shining beneath a dose of intrigue.
"Thought it would put us in the right mood.” Her eyebrow twitched up in mild delight. “I see you received my gift.” She glanced at the paper bag sitting at his feet.
Monica smiled when he gave her a scowl, his eyes shooting daggers at her. Oh, yes. This will be interesting indeed, she thought.
"So what is this really about? What about me fits this so called profile you have conjured up?” Jared sat on the bed and made himself comfortable, leaning against the headboard, seemingly unconcerned of the chains and shackles surrounding him.
Ignoring his barb about her profile, Monica went to another bag at the foot of the bed and plucked out a few folders. “I figured that a FBI agent would have done his homework. Isn't that your motto? Always be prepared?"
"That's the Boy Scout's motto,” he smirked, but it quickly faded. “And if you must know, I was pulled off a well-earned two-week vacation for this assignment and had no time for this so called homework. My superior informed me you would have everything I needed to get caught up on the case."
"Ah, and how is Lynn today?” She asked tossing the folders on the bed next to Jared before settling herself on the other side, her back against one of the footboard posts.
"Lynn?"
"Oh, sorry. I meant Special Agent Sawyer."
"Like you know her personally,” he scoffed while picking up the folders.
"Didn't she tell you? My father was in the FBI. I believe they were partners for a time if I recall correctly."
"Great. Just great,” he muttered, opening the top folder. “Tell me about this case."
This was her cue to get down to business. They only had six hours for Jared to get caught up and learn his role for this assignment. She only hoped he was a quick study.
"We've been trying to apprehend a killer who calls himself Dante. His first victim was taken six months ago. He was kidnapped from his Mistress at a local fetish club called The Dark Side. A couple days later she received a letter from the kidnapper thanking her for the man."
"No ransom?” Jared didn't look up, his eyes still searching through the documents, his demeanor that of a complete professional.
"No. Just a thank you note, like he'd received a gift from her. It was signed Dante."
"And the victim was found when?"
"Three weeks after the kidnapping,” Monica supplied, even though it was in the reports in his hand. “He was beaten and his body mutilated. The medical examiner said his death was slow and painful.” She bit out the last sentence.
Monica forced herself to calm down. Every time she thought about the victims and what they must have gone through, her anger roiled. She wanted to kill the man who was doing this.
"It was nearly a month later when the next victim was taken. Same MO. A thank you letter, but no clue as to who Dante was or anything to lead us closer to catching him."
"He went missing from the same club?"
"Yes. The second victim must have lasted longer than the first. We didn't discover his body until nearly five weeks after his abduction. Same condition as the first."
Monica got up from the bed and started pacing to release the pent-up energy her ire created. “He didn't wait nearly as long to snatch his third victim, who was found six weeks after his disappearance."
"There was a fourth victim.” Jared was now looking at the pictures of the victims.
"Yes. Dante has the community scared, so perhaps his pickings are slim. This last victim was taken just three weeks ago. He didn't last as long as the others. The victim was alive when we found him. Barely, but we managed to get a little information from him before he lapsed into a coma and died. Dante finally screwed up and we got our first lead."
"Okay, so we have four victims total. All with the same MO. Kidnapped from The Dark Side, a polite thank you letter sent to the woman they were with, and then found dead weeks later. The only lead you have is this small bit the last victim could tell you before he died."
"Correct. Dante likes submissive men. He finds one that appeals to him, kidnaps them, then breaks them with torture both physically and mentally. From what I've seen, I believe that a victim's length of life depends upon his endurance to the suffering Dante inflicts on them."
"Wait. I thought submissives were already broken. Isn't that how they're submissive?” Jared asked, looking up at her for the first time since he'd began reading. It was clear he had little understanding of this particular world.
"Not necessarily, though it appears so. And there really are some who are broken by their Masters. But the scene at The Dark Side is not quite that hard core.
"Those that frequent the club deal in the fantasy world of bondage, domination and a little sadomasochism. This is not their everyday life. The Dominants and submissives who frequent the club have very normal lives outside of their nightlife. For most, it's just a weekend role-playing game. These are not serious lifers like you read about on some of those Internet sites. Most of these submissives are just fulfilling a fantasy of no responsibility, handing over authority to their Dominant. They're not weak-willed doormats. They just seek a way of getting away from the rat race of the world. Whereas the Dominants are fulfilling their fantasy of power and control."
"So what do these four men have in common that caught Dante's attention?"
"This is where you come in.” Monica stopped pacing and met Jared's eyes. “All four were tall men, around six feet in height. They were all dark haired and their bodies and health were both in peak condition. And all four of the victims were practical newbies to the world of domination. When the victims’ partners were interviewed, it came to light the men were very open to the fact they were subs in training."
"What do you mean by that?” Jared asked, his brows drawn together. Monica could see he was really trying to grasp some sort of understanding of this world he was about to step into.
"They showed rebellion toward their Mistresses. They deliberately did things so they were punished for it in public. It seemed all four of the victims had a taste for having an audience to their punishments."
"Along with Dante's attention."
"Exactly,” Monica nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. A habit she had when she was nervous.
Jared pushed aside the folders. “And how is it you know so much about The Dark Side and the world of domination?” he inquired.
She drew herself up, straightening her spine. She wasn't ashamed of her upbringing or who she was. “My mother was a Domme. She was the Head Mistress of Heart's Desire in Miami."
She waited for the smart-ass remarks to come, but surprisingly there were none.
"I'd have to think you had a very remarkable upbringing."
"You could say that,” she responded, not knowing what else to say. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. Usually if a man learned of her background there were jokes and remarks that were hurtful to her. But not from Jared Keller.
"So I was called off my vacation because I am tall, dark haired, and handsome?” The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile, his male ego obviously flaming.
Monica shrugged her shoulders. “Lynn said you had the right body build, too.” She let her gaze lazily roam over his t-shirt and jean clad form. She bit back a smile when he stiffened under her assessment. Turnabout was fair play. She had to admit that he was one fine specimen of the male species. Her pulse raced as she thought of this man without cumbersome clothing and at her complete mercy.
"Lucky me,” he muttered.
Monica glanced at her watch. “Now with most of that out of the way, we have about five hours to get you ready to be seen out in public. Why don't you go ahead and get into the outfit that I sent over and we'll get started with the hard stuff."
"You mean now?” He blinked at her.
"Yes. You'll probably need a little time to get used to it as I go through the instructions. That way you'll be more comfortable later tonight."
"What about your outfit?” he asked as his stare took in her jeans and sleeveless shirt she wore.
"I'm already accustomed to it. But first, we've got to get you ready. Now go.” She swatted his leg, knocking it off the bed. She saw the reluctance, but he got up from the bed, grabbed the bag she'd sent for him, and started toward the bathroom.
Chapter Three
Jared didn't close the door completely. He still had questions and thought it would give him a small amount of comfort if he weren't entirely alone as he forced himself to dress in the obscene clothing.
"Do we know what Dante looks like?” he asked, shedding his shirt and jeans.
"No. The last victim...” she paused as if she didn't want to think about him. Jared understood. No one wanted to think of the murder victims they'd seen. “He said Dante always wore a mask."
"And The Dark Side? The owner and employees were checked out?” Jared pulled out the leather shorts from the bag, holding them up at arm's length. Letting out a resigned sigh and shaking his head, he began pulling them on.
"Of course. That was the first thing we did when we realized they were all last seen there. The owner, Delia Moore, is a friend of my mother's. She gave me full access to her employee records. I found nothing. If Dante works there, he's been very good at covering his trail."
"What makes you think he will strike again so soon? Wouldn't he be in hiding, not knowing if his last victim talked."
"The fact that the victim was alive was kept from all media. Only the top brass and I knew. We didn't want Dante to go into hidin
g. There's also been a shorter duration of time with each victim from the time we find the body until he snags the next one."
"Four victims. Yes, you could get enough of a discernable pattern.” Jared zipped up the black boots that now adorned his feet. They came up to the middle of his calf and were the same leather as his shorts. Next he snapped on the matching leather wristbands.
"Do you need help in there?” she asked.
Jared glanced in the mirror and frowned. He looked like a gigolo from a B-rated porn movie. He had gone undercover with drug dealers, dealt with serial killers and kidnappers face to face. Hell, he'd even jumped out of a perfectly good airplane to get his man. But none of that prepared him for this. “Yeah, I need help escaping this nightmare."
"What was that?"
"I'm done,” he said, turning to the door, dreading to exit the safe hideaway of the bathroom. Reluctantly he stepped out.
Her eyes widened slightly, but quickly hid her reaction. For some reason it pleased him.
"You forgot something."
"I forgot a lot of somethings,” he said, looking down at his body. He wasn't a man ashamed of showing some skin. He knew he was in good shape. He'd worked too hard at it not to be. But he had a bad feeling about this. Especially how these shorty-shorts accented his tight ass and hugged too tightly at his crotch. He briefly wondered if wearing these things would affect his little soldiers. Most of all, he felt naked without his gun.
Monica shook her head and rolled her eyes as she retrieved the bag from the bathroom. Jared cursed when she pulled the collar and leash from it. He took a step back from her as she opened the clasp.
"We don't need that."
"Of course we do.” She approached him with it.
"No, really. It's okay.” He held his hands up as if he could fend her off with the action.
Monica stopped and started laughing. “You will put on shorts that show your ... assets, but one little piece of leather around your neck scares you?"