Dark Enemy Redeemed

by I. T. Lucas

  He chuckled. “And so demure…” He leaned to kiss the back of her hand before lifting his gaze to her smiling eyes. “But outward appearances are misleading, there is a whole other Syssi hiding under there, and I thank the merciful fates each and every day that I’m the only one who gets to see that wildly passionate girl…” He leaned even closer. “And the one who gets to spank her gorgeous little behind,” he whispered in her ear before catching her soft earlobe between his teeth.

  “Oh…” she moaned involuntarily as a shiver ran through her.

  He let go of her earlobe and smoothed his lips down her long neck.

  Panting quietly, she closed her eyes, the flush on her face traveling down to paint her cleavage a rosy pink.

  Beautiful.

  To abandon that swan neck wasn’t easy, and as he leaned back his words came out a little hissed. “Am I the luckiest guy on earth, or what?”

  She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’m not sure about that, but I’m positive that I am the luckiest girl on the planet.” She leaned towards him. “And every woman in this restaurant agrees with me. They are eating you up with their eyes and shooting murderous glares at me.” She tilted her head and winked, pointing to a couple sitting across from them.

  The man was a well-known businessman in his early sixties, and the young woman was his latest eye candy. Not that Kian was in any position to criticize.

  Nearing his second millennial birthday he was guilty of much worse. But at least he didn’t look it.

  The girl was the Barbie type. Though considering the vapid expression on her face, he would’ve not classified her as pretty. And as far as her Barbie-like figure, he didn’t think it was attractive either. The pair of over-inflated balloons that were filling her dress could’ve served as lifesavers in case of an emergency water landing. Vest not required.

  “I have eyes only for you.”

  “I know.”

  “Good, because this kind of a commitment comes with certain conditions and limitations.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

  “You belong to me.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “I know that, and you belong to me. Any other clauses?” Without even batting an eyelash she asked seriously, “Do you want a prenup?”

  A prenup? I’ll give you a prenup…

  “In fact, I do.” He smiled wickedly as he reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out two velvet-covered boxes. “First clause. I don’t want to hear any arguments about these.” He pushed the boxes to her side of the table.

  Syssi’s hand flew to her heart and she blushed. “Is this what I think it is?”

  He put his hand over the boxes. “You’ll need to agree to the terms of my prenup first… if you want to open them and find out, that is.”

  “Okay.” She reached for the ring box first, and he could tell she was holding her breath as she lifted the lid. Her eyes popped wide. “Please tell me this is a very shiny sapphire…”

  Kian chuckled and took the box from her hand. “Let me do it right and put the ring on you.”

  Her hand was shaking as she held it up.

  He slid the ring on her fourth finger. “Now it’s official.” He brought her ringed hand to his lips and gently kissed each digit.

  “I don’t want to know how much you paid for it.”

  “Good, because I’m not going to tell you. Now open the other one.”

  She smiled. “No more clauses before I open it?”

  “Nope. This one is self-explanatory.”

  “I can just guess what’s in it.” She lifted the lid slowly, only halfway, and peered inside before letting it close. “You didn’t…”

  Kian pushed to his feet and walked over to stand behind Syssi. He opened the clasp of the necklace she was wearing and slipped it inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He then bent down and picked up the larger box.

  The moment he lifted the lid, the choker he’d bought for Syssi reflected and refracted the candlelight, catching the attention of everyone in the vicinity. And the fact that the thing was studded with enough diamonds to render someone blind filled him with a sense of pure male satisfaction. He took it out, slipping the box into the same pocket as the other necklace.

  As he gently fastened the choker around Syssi’s slender neck, Kian leaned to whisper in her ear, “Just as I’ve promised.”

  CHAPTER 23: SEBASTIAN

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Shar, Sebastian, but I can’t.”

  “Mr. Ax,” Sebastian hissed through clenched teeth, “I’m sure you can arrange for at least one or two girls. I’m willing to pay premium for the first delivery.”

  The LA supplier of females for the island, who identified himself only by the unimaginative moniker Mr. Ax, was a tough and unyielding negotiator. Even without the benefit of a face-to-face conversation, Sebastian was starting to get the impression that the guy, although unwaveringly polite, was a most unpleasant fellow.

  Which wasn’t all that surprising considering Mr. Ax’s chosen occupation.

  Sebastian didn’t like having to rely on someone nameless and faceless for something this important—regardless of the man’s good reputation. There was something to be said for the way things used to be done when contracts and agreements had been finalized upon a handshake.

  There was nothing like observing your associate’s facial expressions and body language to determine if he was trustworthy. And seeing a man’s interaction with his subordinates was another piece of crucial information. Usually, a guy like this would show up with a couple of bodyguards, and one could tell a lot from how they behaved around him. Respect and loyalty was a good sign; fear less so.

  He wondered what the Ax stood for, but the only options he could think of were either the tool or a tribute to Axl Rose.

  “No can do. I just made a delivery of six new specimens five days ago, and I’m not due for another one until two months from now. Your bosses are not my only customers, and I have other clients who are waiting for merchandise that I’ve promised to deliver by certain deadlines. The best I can do for you is three weeks to a month, and even then only one or two girls. For larger orders, I need the info at least six months in advance—including half of the agreed price.”

  Lucky for the guy, Sebastian couldn’t reach through the phone and tear his heart out.

  Instead, he acquiesced in the most businesslike, calm tone, “I understand, I’m sure you’re going to do your best. Let me know when you have something for me.” After all, he still needed the guy’s cooperation and it wasn’t going to happen if he antagonized his only supplier.

  For now.

  “I will, Mr. Shar. Good day.”

  Such a polite fellow.

  Sebastian clicked off the phone and set it with deliberate care on the desk. Hurtling it at the wall would’ve been so much more satisfying—but pointless and indicative of lack of self-control.

  Who else could he call? Maybe some of the drug or arms dealers would know who to refer him to?

  Nah, it was bad business.

  Smuggling drugs or weapons was one thing; trafficking in human sex slaves was another.

  People found ways to morally justify an illegal business activity, even if their reasoning was convoluted. Evil was subjective. A crime lord who dealt in either drugs or arms could regard the activity as perfectly honorable, but wouldn’t necessary extend the same rationale to slavers. Suggesting to a man that he had contacts with such lowlife could be seen as a grave offense.

  With that avenue barred and no other leads, Sebastian had no choice but to find a solution himself.

  There were the seven immortal males currently residing at his base to take care of, and more warriors were scheduled to arrive over the next couple of weeks. But until he came up with a plan of how to procure girls for his basement brothel, the men would have to seek sexual satisfaction the old fashioned way—thralling random females and having their way with them.

  A risky proposition at best.

  In the o
ld days, a woman who’d found herself lost and confused— with a sore cunt and semen dripping down her inner thighs—would have kept it to herself. Nowadays, she would run as fast as her shaky legs could carry her to the police. Some rape drug would be blamed, and every male she’d come in contact with around the time of the incident would be questioned.

  Too many such reports would start a big stink.

  Tapping his fingers on the desk, Sebastian gazed out the window at the dark sky. He would have no choice but to prohibit the practice. The men would have to work for a piece of ass, same as the males of Annani’s clan. They’d have to seduce willing women in the places where such activity was welcomed, and then thrall the incriminating parts of the memory away.

  Sebastian flipped his laptop open and googled dance clubs, but a sidebar ad caught his attention. Something about online dating.

  Interesting.

  Ha, if the site’s ad copy were to be believed, men no longer needed to go out to meet women, they could do so from the comfort of their own homes. Online dating was what everyone was doing these days, and picking up women at bars and clubs was supposedly frowned upon.

  Genius.

  Problem solved.

  His men, handsome immortals one and all, would have no trouble scoring dates on a site like this. And apparently, the rules of just a few decades ago, which had dictated a period of dating before having sex with a man, had evaporated with the last vestiges of Western morality.

  Not that Sebastian had a problem with it. This part of Navuh’s propaganda was meant for the consumption of his Eastern allies and the simple rank and file.

  Navuh’s inner circle had no such illusions.

  The ultimate goal was world domination and everything else was just fodder for the ignorant masses.

  Thinking of the interesting possibilities online dating presented, Sebastian leaned back in his chair. It would be so incredibly easy to find the perfect candidates for his brothel. Mr. Ax’s services would no longer be needed. And a lot of money could be saved.

  Between their online profiles and their Facebook pages, he could discover everything he needed to know—from how attractive a girl was, to what her financial situation was like, and whether she had family and friends who would notice that she went missing.

  Come to think of it, Dalhu might have been wrong in his assumption that Annani’s clansmen searched for sex partners in clubs and bars. As part of the Western society, they must’ve been exposed to this new dating phenomenon and were taking advantage of it.

  But if this was indeed the case, it meant that Dalhu’s plan was useless.

  Still, Sebastian had no choice but to implement the plan regardless of his newfound doubts as to its chances of success. The alternative was giving up the hunt before it even began and it wouldn’t fly with headquarters, no matter how well he justified his decision. After spending all this money and allocating the resources to its execution, he couldn’t just abandon it without at least giving it a try.

  Sebastian signed up as a member of the dating site and paid the fee, then set about creating a compelling profile for himself. Something that would lure the kind of girls he was looking for—young, pretty, lonely, and desperate.

  CHAPTER 24: AMANDA

  “What’s in the bag?” Not surprisingly, Anandur eyed her large tote with suspicion.

  Amanda had hoped that being a guy he would dismiss it as just one of her peculiar fashion choices, but apparently he was more astute than that.

  Luckily, she came prepared.

  “If you really want to know, I packed an extra set of lingerie, a nightgown, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, a can of hairspray, perfume, lotions, and makeup. Want to search it in case I’m hiding a weapon there to spring Dalhu out of jail?” She opened the top and lifted it up to his face.

  Unfazed by her sarcasm, he took a quick peek inside. But seeing the lacy red thong and matching bra that she’d put on top, he scrunched his nose and shoved the tote away. “How long are you planning on staying there that you’re bringing all of this?”

  “I don’t know yet. I might leave right away. But in case I decide to stay the night, I came prepared.” She wasn’t lying. There was still a chance she would just walk out of there and never come back.

  “Dream on, Princess, I can’t babysit for so long. I can allow no more than an hour,” he said as they entered the elevator.

  We’ll see about that. She shrugged and turned to the mirror to examine her makeup. Perfect.

  “You look good, no need to check.” Anandur’s reflection was smirking at hers.

  “Thank you.”

  “New dress?”

  “No, I’ve just haven’t worn it in a while.”

  “Must have been a really long while…” he muttered as he eyed the outfit with a critical eye.

  “Why? You don’t like it?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, you look as stunning as always, it’s just that this thing reminds me of the seventies. Not a decade fondly remembered for its style.” The elevator stopped and Anandur motioned for her to precede him.

  With a raised eyebrow Amanda gave him a thorough up and down look over, taking in the worn-out Levis and plain green T-shirt. “I didn’t know you followed fashion trends.”

  “I don’t. But I know what I like and what I don’t. The miniskirts were fine, more than fine, but everything else not so much.”

  “Well, this wrap dress is having a big comeback. It’s the latest fashion trend.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” He started to punch in the code then stopped and turned to her. “I just wanted to warn you. You’re in for a bit of a shock.”

  What the hell was he talking about? Had someone hurt Dalhu? “Why, what’s wrong with him?”

  The alarm in her voice prompted him to quickly qualify. “Nothing. It’s a good thing.” He pushed open the door and just let it swing all the way in while stepping aside to allow her an unobstructed view of the room.

  “Oh, sweet fates…” Her face was staring at her from at least a dozen portraits if not more, covering every exposed stretch of wall in Dalhu’s small living room. He’d drawn every possible expression—happy, aroused, contemplative, worried, challenging, argumentative, and there was even one of her sleeping. The simple charcoal sketches were so beautiful, so full of life, that she was tempted to get close and touch each one.

  But where was the man who’d drawn them? She looked at Anandur.

  “Probably in the bathroom. It’s not like he can go anywhere.”

  The door to the bedroom was open, and as she was about to step inside, the bathroom’s door banged opened and Dalhu emerged with a small towel still clutched in his wet hands.

  Freezing in place, he whispered, “Amanda…” as if he saw an apparition.

  Her heart felt as if it was swelling to monstrous proportion, choking her, then shattering, the broken pieces carving bloody furrows in her insides.

  She was fighting for breath as desperately as she was fighting for a coherent thought. She wanted to run to Dalhu and hug him so hard that his ribs would crack, and then keep tightening her embrace until she squeezed him within an inch of his life.

  Need and rage.

  Love and hate.

  Longing and loathing.

  Compassion and cruelty.

  No wonder her heart couldn’t handle all of these contradicting feelings and was swelling and bursting in turns.

  Why did I leave? How could I’ve stayed?

  How could I’ve abandoned him when he needed me so desperately? He deserves much worse…

  I love him… I detest him.

  Amanda shook her head in a desperate attempt to dispel the disabling maelstrom of confusion and turned away from Dalhu. It took her a couple of seconds until she was able to breathe. She glanced at Anandur, who was still standing outside the opened door, watching her and Dalhu with an amused expression plastered on his face.

  Nothing about this is funny, you moron.

  Amanda grabbed
the door and gave it a powerful shove with the intention of closing it in Anandur’s smug face. But he blocked the door from slamming shut on him by wedging his boot against the doorjamb. She’d anticipated the move and leaned on the door.

  Peering at him through the crack, she stated rather than asked, “Do you really think I need protection from this male?”

  “No, but your brother doesn’t share my opinion. I have my orders.” He tried to push the door open again.

  Anandur must’ve exerted a half-hearted effort because she had no problem preventing him from doing so. “Tell him I ordered you to leave. I’m sick and tired of him trying to run my life for me. I don’t have to follow his orders in anything other than council business. I’m running this show from now on.” She gave another shove, but the door didn’t budge.

  Anandur was quiet for a moment, then pushed back, just enough to make room for his big head to fit through the crack. “Good luck, Princess,” he mouthed before jumping back and letting her shove the door closed.

  What a pain in the ass, but a real prince of a guy nonetheless. She would thank him later.

  Her hands still splayed on the closed door, she touched her forehead to the cool surface and just breathed. Getting rid of Anandur had been the easy part of her plan. Now that it was done, she was terrified by the prospect of facing the real challenge of confronting Dalhu and her warring feelings about him.

  Amanda felt Dalhu rather than heard him come to stand behind her, and she turned, leaning her back against the door.

  He was on her in a flash. Kissing, touching, groping. There was nothing gentle or loving about this. His mouth and his hands attacked her with bruising force. This was pure, desperate hunger.

  There was no need for words—hell, there were no words to express what she was feeling, but this was a language they were both fluent in. She gave as hard as she got, pushing her hands under his T-shirt and clawing at his back with the intent of drawing blood.

  He bit her then, his fangs two agonizing burning spots at the bottom of her neck. No venom came rushing into her through the entry points. Instead, he pulled back and bit her again at another spot. The pain was both excruciating and exquisite, and she snarled, digging her nails into his scalp to hold his mouth to the wound he’d inflicted. “Lick it!” she commanded.