Jaspierre (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 1)

by Mixi J Applebottom

  But the thought made her stomach turn. He was already so thin. What this situation needed was more experimentation. She would have to plan the experiment, and test the results. Mother would approve. Mother had always been skilled in a clinical way. She’d slice off a man’s head just to see how it bled. Jaspierre didn’t have that kind of guts. She only could muster up that kind of skill when she was furious.

  What to do with Russell? She didn’t really have a plan. Maybe she could kill him properly. Take him apart in that emotionless way Mother mastered. She froze mid-thought, and it came to her. Why not test Lucas with Russell? What a fabulous idea! She grabbed her leather notebook and went to her office.

  Midnight came, and her book was full of sketches and plans. Most of them had Russell eviscerated. She had never killed a man before, but it could be time to start. There was, after all, no particular reason to have another Russell in the world. Besides! Lucas would do the real work. It saved her the squeamish feelings. Mother would be so pleased. Jaspierre was becoming a proper scientist. Delegate if needed. It was a skill she had learned for business quite well. She felt a tiny pang that Mother wouldn’t be proud that she couldn’t seem to do it herself. Why couldn’t she slaughter a man on command?

  She glanced at the clock and walked back to her bedroom, whistling. Two beautiful felines came running. Her bed was massive; the four wooden posts were each servals in various positions. One was licking its paw, the next sat stately. The third one stood on its hind legs, its paws lifted as if ready to bat at an invisible fly. The final cat had its teeth bared in the most terrifying scowl. Jaspierre climbed into the crisp white linens, lifting the sheet, and both cats crawled underneath the blankets. The three of them curled together in the magical way creatures do when they have slept together their whole lives.

  Lucas did not have the same night. In fact, his night was downright awful. Russell had awakened and he was screaming again. He screamed and moaned and fussed and cried and sobbed. God it was irritating. Lucas tried to recall his first night, and he couldn’t remember it being so loud. If it had been quiet he would have spend the night reminiscing how sweet she smelled. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t think of anything with the blubbering, screaming racket. He hadn’t bothered to respond to Russell’s nonstop noise. First off, there was no point; he couldn’t help him. He couldn’t reassure him. What was he supposed to say? Welcome to your new home? Can’t wait for your first wager? You might get to bone her in a few years if you are good?

  The thought struck him with irritation. She better not let him bone her. Sigh. Not that he had any choice. What he should figure out was a way to keep her climbing on top of him. Touching another human after all this time was so blissful. He played her over again in his mind, how she confidently dropped her panties, but a scream interrupted. It would be nice when Russell passed out.

  Chapter 5

  Lucas woke up to the screams of a woman. He stood up; his back had a spot throbbing, and he wondered if she had stabbed him, again. Then he felt the odd weight on his ankle. It was a monitoring bracelet. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. He would get to walk around!. She screamed again, and he pulled out his tiny knife. Maybe Russell had gotten out. He couldn’t let Russell kill her. He was the whole reason they were in this mess.

  He crept around into the hall and heard her in her bedroom. He opened the door and saw she was sleeping. Were her nightmares of him? Of what he had done? Those were his nightmares. Did she have them too? He stepped closer and realized it was a mistake.

  Tessa curled around Jaspierre, purring, licking at her face. She was trying to wake her or ease her terrified cries. But Ikali was standing on the bed, his teeth bared. He stood over his family, ready to fight to the death for them. Lucas raised his hands stepping backwards. Battling the cat, he knew, would mean his own death. These were her prized possessions. He dropped the knife. If she saw him holding a blade at her feline he couldn't imagine the consequences. Frozen in terror, he realized this could be the end.

  *** Ten Years Earlier***

  Lucas was driving down the road in his ancient tan Wagoneer. It wasn’t in good shape, and he sometimes wondered if it would get him to college. It was his freshman year. He was going to be a computer science major. He loved computers and hacking into places as a kid. He was good at it too. Once, he hacked Facebook and made every post about a Powerball ticket.

  The day it happened, the lottery sales went bonkers—Even though everyone knew it was a hacker. There was something so powerful about seeing lottery ticket numbers in front of your eyes. What if it was a sign? Almost everyone bought a ticket, and many got two or ten tickets. It created such a chaotic buzz. Hilariously, his Powerball he picked was correct, though none of the other balls were, and there were massive crowds of people who won four dollars. Anyone who picked the Powerplay won twenty bucks. That was fantastic. He bought himself a ticket, and won twenty dollars. It had more winners then any lottery had ever had before. Everyone knew someone who won twenty bucks. The jackpot became the highest ever recorded. The record high jackpot was $653 million, now it was $2.1 billion.

  Lucas was so proud. It would have smart if he had hacked in and made himself billions, instead of the lottery. But he was seventeen at the time; he wasn’t thinking big. Now he was nineteen, ready to think big, ready for millions or billions.

  He was contemplating things he’d hack to make himself piles of money when he turned on a strange dirt road. This was the wrong way to school. He didn’t see a spot to turn around, so he turned up the music and enjoyed the drive. Driving was always so pleasant. He grinned. Life was his oyster. A beautiful, new start to a lovely new world. Anything was possible. He would meet a girl, have kids, and hack money into her accounts until she owned everything she could ever think up.

  He was right on one account. He would meet a seventeen-year-old girl.

  These next four minutes of his life he would play over and over and over in his head, analyzing every second. If only he had made any different choice.

  A cougar jumped out on the road; standing there, teeth bared. It was a color he hadn’t seen before, striped and spotted, with big ears. But it was a cougar. In a fit of teenage wisdom, he accelerated. The crunching impact against his bumper, and then the quick thump thump as it went under his tires. He grinned. Nailed it! That thing won’t be eating children or pets or maiming people. For the good of the country! He laughed at himself.

  A hint of remorse —but it was a cougar! It was an enemy of mankind. Like killing a wasp nest or stomping out a biting spider. He should shake off the lingering regret in the back of his mind.

  He saw a girl with long, brown hair standing at the end of a driveway. She was in a white dress, and her skirt was dancing around her with the wind. For a moment, he thought he saw her panties. She looked upset. He slowed down. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “What did you hit?” Her eyes were wide, and there was terror in her voice like he had never heard before. What did the front of his car look like?

  “I don’t know…” He hesitated, dread sinking in like an anchor. “I think it was a cougar.” She gasped, and he saw tears well up in her beautiful eyes.

  “Where is she?”

  “I’ll take you to her, I…” His voice weakened and he saw her pain. He said nothing as she got in, and he whipped around in the driveway she was standing in.

  As they pulled up to the great feline, she leapt out of the still moving car. She curled around the cat, holding it in her arms, sobbing.

  He got out and stood there, his own body full of grief. His parents had died a year earlier, in a car wreck. Grief and loss were good friends of his. He wouldn’t have hit it if he had known someone loved it. Guilt took hold of him. How could he have caused this horrible tragedy to this young woman?

  The cat let out a soft yowl.

  Oh shit, it’s not even dead. Hot tears ran down his cheeks.

  She scooped the cat up and climbed into the seat. “We have to g
et Rainbow home.” He climbed in and drove back to the driveway. She focused on the cat not noticing him.

  He drove up to the most spectacular home he had ever seen. It was massive. There were gardeners everywhere; planting things and building pieces. She carried the cat and walked up the large, marble staircase. The front doors opened for her like magic, and he followed her inside.

  “Jaspierre?”a maid said, standing with the door in her hand, her mouth hanging with shock.

  “Get everyone out,” Jaspierre hissed, and the maid sprang into action, the house shuffled and people disappeared out the door.

  Jaspierre carried the cat to the kitchen where lunch was in the middle of being assembled. The maid followed, and the chef disappeared at a word. The maid shoved all of the food and plates and dishes to the floor, and they shattered and clattered. She set the cat on the island counter, kissing its forehead, examining it.

  Lucas stood there, lost and watching the beautiful young woman tending her pet. He was now rooting for the cat he tried to kill moments earlier. This was his fault.

  “Katie, get the med kits.”

  “Which?”

  “All of them,” Jaspierre said.

  “Her legs are broken, her ribs are broken. Her skull is fractured.” Jaspierre didn’t even mention one eye was swelling and popping out of her head. Blood was pooling behind the cat. The breathing was raspy and miserable. Blood dripped out of her ear. Jaspierre grabbed a small slender knife. “I am so sorry,” she whispered, and she laid her hand on the cat’s stomach and drove the knife into the skin.

  Lucas yelped in horror. “Don’t!” he cringed.

  Jaspierre looked up with such hate in her eyes, blood already smeared on her face like war paint. “Shut the fuck up.”

  She turned to the crying, dying cat, and dug her hands in farther, slicing and digging. She pulled out organs, laying them on the counter. Lucas cringed, turning away. Katie was back setting the boxes she was holding on the table. She pulled out a pair of surgical scissors and handed them to Jasp.

  Jaspierre cut into the first organ, and Lucas understood. The tiny limp kitten lay there, and Jaspierre handed it to Katie, who dried it with a towel, and rubbed it, warming it and trying to wake it.

  Jasp cut out the next kitten and it squirmed, and she handed it to Katie to be dried. Her hands covered in blood, and her hair kept falling in her eyes. She wiped her hair, smearing blood on her face. She cut the third kitten out, and it too squirmed. The fourth organ was just an organ. No kitten inside.

  She turned her attention to the three kittens, one limp and two moving. Gently she washed them each with warm water, and Katie scrambled off and returned with a heating pad. Lucas and Katie stood and watched as Jaspierre kissed and dried and petted each kitten. The limp one never moved. Jaspierre eventually set it back with its mother.

  Katie held Jaspierre as she broke into sobs. “I am so sorry for your loss.” She turned to grab a rag so she could wipe off Jaspierre’s blood-soaked face. Her foot slipped on the many liquids pooled on the floor. She tried to catch herself, and her hand landed on the edge of the small heating pad with the two tiny kittens. The pad flew off the counter, while Katie slammed into the floor face first.

  Jaspierre cried, out racing for the kittens. Both smashed into the floor with a sickening smack. One was still moving; the other one had its neck snapped. Jaspierre clutched the two kittens; the live one, and the dead one. She stared at them, her body trembling. She set the live one in the lid of an open med kit box sitting on a corner counter. Her eyes were burning into Katie’s groaning body. Fury had taken over. She threw the dead kitten at its dead mother and picked up the surgical scissors, and stabbed them into Katie’s back over and over.

  “You fucking idiot!” Jaspierre’s voice rang out with such rage and hatred.

  Lucas froze as he watched the scene, trying to process what was happening. The scissors plunged into Katie’s back again and again as she gurgled and shuddered. He was witnessing a murder. Jaspierre looked up at him with hate-filled fire in her eyes and left the scissors in Katie’s bloody back. Sliding on the pools of blood underneath her, she tried to charge him. Her body slid into the counter top next to him as he ran. He tripped and smashed into the pile of dishes. Skating and sloshing through food, shattered dishes, and blood, he ran out of the room.

  He tried to run out the front door, but it was locked. He didn’t see a way to unlock it, and he heard her scrambling after him, so he ran up the big marble staircase, screaming for help. Was anyone here? He didn’t see anybody. Maybe he could reason with her — maybe not. She killed that girl. He shut up and ran.

  His legs pumped with the effort as he raced down the halls. The power to sprint left him and he tried the nearest door. It was a linen closet. He crawled in next to a mop and closed the door, waiting, trying to regroup and come up with a plan. He had watched her murder someone. His heart was pounding, hands sweating. She was a murderer. Fighting a murderer terrified him.

  The door was solid and he regretted getting in this closet. He couldn’t see where she was. If he opened the door, then she would know where he was. Her light footprints tapped past the door. He froze, holding his breath.

  Chapter 6

  Lucas stood frozen. The big serval’s teeth were pointy and ready, and he tried to back out of the bedroom.

  Jaspierre leapt out of bed, a sword appearing as if from nowhere in her hands. She held it with both hands over her head and charged at him, swinging violently about; her voice was screaming and hoarse. He stood there, accepting his fate. It was so sad, he thought. He almost had freedom. Instinct took over and he ducked when she swung. She spun in a full circle, the blade catching on the bedpost, and sticking into the serval carving. She let go, leaving it there, sobbing.

  Ikali stepped off the bed, hissing at Lucas, ears laid back. He stood between his lady and his enemy. Tessa stood by, meowing. Jaspierre touched the sweet cat’s soft ears. “It was a nightmare. It’s okay. I’m fine.” Her voice was hoarse and sounded miserably sad. She turned to Ikali and saw Lucas. She was infuriated.

  She grabbed the sword from the bedpost to pull it free. “What the hell are you doing in here!” Lucas instinctively wrapped his arms around her and gripped the sword.

  “May I help you?”

  Jaspierre slammed her elbow into his stomach before she processed what he said, and he recoiled. Then she spun around and kissed him, her whole body pressed tight around him. He was so confused, but he didn’t care. He melted into her. Long before their kiss had finished, Ikali had enough and bit deep into Lucas’s leg. Lucas cried out; he was certain she had changed her mind again and he was about to die. It could be worse than to die in her arms, though.

  She looked startled. “Ikali! What is wrong with you!” Her voice was hoarse and yet, sounded amused and less angry. He turned and saw the sulking cat sit in the corner like a child. Ikali sat washing his paws as though he hadn’t bitten anyone at all.

  Blood trickled down Lucas’s leg and he wondered if he should ask for a bandage, or if he should try to kiss her again. This is Stockholm Syndrome, he mused to himself. Loving the person who was holding you captive, desiring to please them. That’s what is happening. She was scary, she was stunning. It was so much more fun than sitting and waiting for your fingers and toes to be severed. He would kill for her, live for her, die for her. What was the world was like now? Ten years had passed. But that was no longer his reality anymore anyway.

  He slid his hands along her soft, curvy hips and squeezed them. “I don’t want to bleed on your bed.” He bit his lip nervously. Any request could be met with a knife.

  She looked at his bloody leg and walked to the hall and came back with her med-kit. She cleaned it, and wrapped it up, and when she was done, she said, “What makes you think you will be on my bed?” She didn’t check his chest wound. It was too embarrassing; that ruined stitch.

  “My bed?” He grinned and tried to make her smile.

  She did not
smile. But she pulled him close. “No funny business.” He was soon under her blankets, wrapped around her, two cats crawling under the covers, squirming annoyingly at this extra body in the bed. Nobody slept, and yet they were happy.

  As the night came to morning, Jaspierre climbed out of the bed. Lucas lay there, wondering what kind of day it would be. He saw the sword still stuck in the bedpost carving. He grinned, stood up, and braced himself against the bed and pulled on it. It was stuck, but after a tight yank, he freed it. The blade itself was sharp and smooth. He wondered where it went. Jaspierre stepped out of the closet with waist-length curly brown hair and a dark bright blue dress.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “I might not answer,” she replied as she stared at the sword in his hand.

  “Why, so many wigs and what not? Are you hiding?”

  “It goes here.” She took the sword and slid it into the tall serval carving with the stretched paw batting at an imaginary fly. The handle disappeared into the figure. “I have to go out today. I have an appointment.”

  They both knew that was hardly an answer. Truth was, Jaspierre didn’t want to tell him how it started, but she knew she never wanted to be revealed. She knew what she was becoming.

  She smiled at Lucas. “You need to feed the cats and do the dishes and what not. Feed Russell if you want.”

  And away she went.

  Lucas smiled. He could wander around! This was gonna be…

  She popped back in. “Oh yes, if you go too far, your monitor on your ankle will beep and you have ten seconds to come back or you explode. Have a nice day!” She vanished before he responded.

  This was gonna be…

  She popped back in again, her brown locks swirling, “Oh yeah, if you, like, call for help or communicate with the outside world, or any stuff, I’m gonna hunt you down and kill you. Just to be clear. No phones, no internet. Nothing. So, read a book or clean or whatever. I’ll be back around noon for lunch.” Again, she left before he even made a sound.