The Virgin Madam (Dark Star Doms Book 5)

by Ivy Barrett

  They hurried down the private hallway at the back of the entertainment area. Another burly guard blocked their way as they neared the narrow staircase. “This area is restricted.”

  “Tell Paul that Tamara Owens is here to see him.” Jericho spoke before Tamara had the chance.

  It was just as well. The guard was more apt to argue with a female anyway, and she’d rather conserve her energy for the real fight.

  The guard spoke into his earpiece twice then motioned them up the stairs. Jericho held the door for her, allowing her to step into the office first. Paul stood beside his desk, looking suspicious and unsure. Blue was nowhere in sight.

  “Was that you yesterday?” he asked by way of a greeting.

  “Where’s Blue?” she countered walking right up to him as they faced off. “She’s in danger and so am I. She has to help me figure out why this bastard wants me, so we can take him down once and for all.”

  He took a step back and raised his chin, his body language shouting disapproval. “She’s somewhere safe, and that’s where she’s staying.”

  Slow down, doll. He’ll go down swinging. You have to ease him over to our side.

  She glanced at Jericho and smiled, thanking him for the reminder. Paul was protecting Blue. Paul loved Blue every bit as much as Jericho loved her— Whoa, there she went again. Using the L word.

  Jericho had a point. She needed to appeal to Paul’s protective nature, not antagonize him. “The only way we can ensure Blue’s safety is to catch this guy, and we can’t do that without Blue’s help.”

  Paul shook his head, dark eyes reflecting his pain. “You have no idea what that bastard—”

  “I do. He’s her step-father and I know what he did to her.”

  He stared at her in disbelief for a moment then his gaze narrowed. “You’re like Aren?”

  “Yes. Aren sensed a connection between me and Blue, so I came to see if I could figure out what it was.”

  “Do the Enforcers know you’re here?” He leaned back against the edge of his desk, starting to relax. “Mercer is convinced you killed someone.”

  “Officer Mercer and I had a long conversation after we left here last night. I have an alibi, so Mercer is destined to be disappointed.” Paul didn’t reply, so she returned the conversation to the original question. “Where’s Blue?”

  “She doesn’t need to be involved in this. I can tell you anything you want to know.”

  “All right.” She decided to test his claim. Pulling out one of the chairs in front of his desk, she sat. Jericho moved to the other and sat beside her. “My visions can be confusing. I saw Blue as a child. She was being held captive with another girl. Was the other girl her sister?”

  “Yes. Her name was Megan. Their mother’s name was Estelle.” Following their lead, Paul slipped in behind his desk and sat. “Blue’s father died when she was three and it was really hard for her mother after that. Blue’s memories of those years are jumbled. All she knows for certain is she and Megan were captured by a group of fanatical mystics. Megan claimed their mother had been part of it, that she’d taken money from the mystics and arranged for them to be kidnapped. Estelle swore it was a lie, that it was just the abuse that made Megan lash out like that.”

  “What does Blue believe? Does she think her mother was involved?”

  He shrugged, the gesture unconvincing. “Depends on the day. They’re both dead now, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  The vision had given Tamara a pretty good idea what the mystics had been trying to accomplish, but she wanted to hear it from him. “What did the mystics want with the girls?”

  “They were convinced both girls had abilities and they were determined to release them. Megan allowed the abuse so they’d leave Blue alone, but eventually they tried most of their techniques on Blue as well.”

  “Did Megan have abilities?”

  “After what we found out from Aren, Blue’s convinced her sister was a feeder just like her.”

  “Does she know which outpost they were on?”

  “Chiron. But the mystics came from somewhere else. Probably Temple-Tuttle.”

  She nodded. Everything he said made perfect sense and corresponded well with what she’d seen in the vision. “Did Megan tell anyone but Blue that she suspected their mother had been involved in the abduction?”

  “Not at first. Megan was so relieved to be rescued that she tried to convince herself she’d been wrong. But the dreams got worse. So did the nightmares. Then Megan and Estelle had a horrible fight not long before Megan drowned.”

  Another wave of dread made Tamara shiver. “Blue thinks her mother was involved in her sister’s death?”

  “She’s never had more than suspicions, but it was all too convenient.” Convenient and horrific. Suddenly her own childhood didn’t seem so bleak. “When and how did the stepfather enter the picture?” Nothing Paul told her was too surprising, but it was helping fill in the blanks.

  “Fenton wasn’t technically Blue’s stepfather, just her mother’s fiancé.”

  With another nod, she asked, “How did he meet Estelle?”

  “He was a citizen of Halley Prime. He came to Chiron as a sort of missionary one summer. He and a group of young people were supposed to help out the underprivileged people of Chiron. Megan had drowned three months before and he found Estelle tragic and interesting. Estelle was eleven years older than Fenton, but he swore he didn’t care. He was kind and attentive and offered her a life on Halley Prime, something she’d never dared imagine before.”

  “So she agreed to marry him?” Estelle must have been so lonely, and so disillusioned after losing both her spouse and one of her daughters. Even if guilt had been mixed with the sorrow, the loss wouldn’t have been any less real.

  “She returned with him at summer’s end. Blue was as excited as her mother to begin with. She saw Fenton as a hero, a savior, larger than life. But during the following year she matured into a beautiful young woman, and Fenton noticed. Blue tried to fight the attraction, but Fenton was an experienced man of twenty-four and she was fifteen. The first time was consensual, or as consensual as seducing a minor can be. But after that, she fought him. He played mind games, told her she was only struggling because she felt guilty for wanting him, which of course was more or less true.”

  Everything he said was confirmed by her vision, and it all made her despise Fenton even more. “Was he into spirituality, demons and such?”

  “Big-time.” He shook his head. “Your visions are pretty damn accurate, aren’t they? It’s almost spooky. Fenton told Blue she had a spirit inside her, claimed he could feel it, especially when…he was inside her.”

  That caught Jericho’s attention. “He’s probably a sensitive and doesn’t know it.” Until that moment, he’d remained silent, politely listening without slowing the conversation. “He might even have fed from her without realizing what he was doing.”

  “Well, the rest wasn’t accidental.” Paul’s temper flared. “He repeatedly raped a fifteen-year-old and convinced her it was her fault.”

  “And when he wouldn’t stop, she smashed an oil lamp against his chest.” Tamara shook her head, saddened by the choices forced into Blue’s young life.

  “Look, I don’t care if he’s a lecherous mystic or a run-of-the-mill pedophile, this day is long overdue.”

  “No one will argue with that,” Jericho assured him.

  Paul leaned forward, searching her face with curiosity in his eyes. “Can you summon visions about whatever you want, or do random images just come to you?”

  “Somewhere in between. I’m not to a point yet where I can summon them, but they’re far from random.” She sighed, focusing again on Blue. “How did Melissa Cramark move from being a patient at Crossroads mental health complex to being Mistress Misty Blue at the Dark Star?”

  “The answer to that is simple.” He folded his hands on his flat belly and rocked back in his chair. “Petra had a thing for lost souls. She tapped into prison rel
ease and drug rehabilitation programs for menial workers. They’d come in the morning and do laundry, custodial and simple maintenance projects. Occasionally one of the workers would catch her eye and she’d sponsor them.”

  “What do you mean ‘sponsor them’?”

  Paul scoffed and looked at Jericho. “Is she really that naïve?”

  “Afraid so.” Jericho reached over and squeezed her hand. “But don’t confuse naïveté with foolishness. She’s sharp as a tack.”

  She pulled her hand out of his and placed it in her lap. “She’s also sitting right here.”

  “When you have the kind of money Petra had—the kind of money you have—doors just sort of open. Petra liked to take people who were down and out and offer them a lifestyle unlike anything they could ever imagine. Of course, all it cost them was their self-respect and any control they ever hoped to have over their body.”

  The bitterness in his tone made it obvious he had experienced the phenomenon firsthand, but she needed to know about Blue. “Petra bribed the people at Crossroads and they turned over Melissa to her.” She paused for a moment as myriad questions sprang from the simple statement. “How did Melissa end up at Crossroads? She took a life. Why wasn’t she kept on Borelley?”

  Jericho scooted to the edge of the chair, gaze fixed on Paul’s face. “How were they able to convict her of murder when her victim isn’t dead?”

  “Blue has been trying to figure that out ever since Lily…er…Doctor Owens told her the bastard is still alive.” Paul fiddled with his cuff, his tone far less certain than it had been before.

  “And what did she decide?” Jericho prompted.

  “The trial was postponed for over a month as Fenton lingered near death. The magistrate wanted to charge Blue with murder, but a victims’ advocate group claimed it was self-defense and wanted all charges dismissed. Blue always thought the magistrate won the debate when Fenton died and she was sent to Crossroads. Now she’s not sure what the hell happened.”

  “Fenton could have insisted on a new identity as part of the plea bargain.” Tamara mused. “Everyone would need to believe he was dead, yet the officials would have known Blue hadn’t actually killed anyone.”

  “Which explains her unusual placement,” Jericho agreed.

  “Either way, Melissa’s crime was a provoked crime of passion,” Paul stressed. “It was highly unlikely she would ever attack anyone else.”

  “What happened after Melissa caught Petra’s eye?” Tamara guided the conversation back toward the present.

  “Petra became her legal guardian and Blue was required to wear a collar that restricted her movements to the Dark Star grounds for the first six years.”

  Tamara tried to look at it from the killer’s perspective. Was he angry that Blue had not served out her sentence on Borrelly, or was he horrified that his stepdaughter had been turned into a whore? Just thinking about it made her feel antsy, restless—jagged.

  Trepidation sped her pulse and clenched her belly. “Where is she, Paul? Something’s wrong. Com her right now. Something’s wrong!”

  Paul swung his chair around and touched the bottom corner of the security grid. A private suite came into view and Tamara gasped. Blue was tied to the bed, naked, spread-eagled and gagged.

  “Oh my God,” Paul cried. “He’s here! How did he get past security?”

  “What’s on the bed between her legs?” Jericho moved closer to the display.

  Paul selected the area with his fingertips and the computer zoomed in. Tamara covered her mouth with her hand as the bomb filled the display, the counter steadily descending.

  “Eleven minutes?” Paul lamented. “We need to evacuate, but I can’t just leave her—”

  “Is that on the main floor?” Jericho demanded.

  “Behind the training booths.”

  “I’ll take her out the back.” Jericho headed for the door. “You and Tamara get everyone else out.”

  “We’re right behind you,” Tamara assured him as he rushed from the room. Turning to Paul, she asked, “Is there some sort of emergency alert?”

  “Yes of course.” He turned on the alarm.

  “Now send my voice to every room in the building.”

  He entered a command in the panel then said, “Go.”

  “This is not a drill. Evacuate immediately. Get everyone out. Repeat. This is not a drill.”

  “We have to go too,” Paul urged.

  Tamara kicked off her shoes and ran for the door. The metal stairs bit into her bare feet, but it was the least of her worries. Paul pulled her toward the back exit, but she twisted out of his grasp and darted for the main floor. Eleven minutes was no time at all to unfasten all those buckles and untie all those knots!

  The room was less chaotic than she’d feared, so she started a room-by-room search. She closed doors and pulled privacy curtains as she went, indicating where she had been.

  “We’re clear, boss. Get the hell out of here.”

  She looked back and found the huge Master she’d met earlier waving her on. Not about to argue with his logic, she checked the last room and headed out through the back. Jericho waited for her at the edge of the shuttle lot. Paul and Blue were several paces ahead of him. Most of the customers had gone out the front, so the stillness was rather eerie.

  Jericho wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hurried her farther away.

  “Was the bomb not—”

  The ground shook and an ear-piercing boom responded to her half-formed question. Jericho threw her down and covered her with his body as another explosion echoed the first, and then another and another.

  When the blasts finally stopped, she wiggled out from under Jericho and watched in morbid wonder as fire consumed Petra’s legacy. “We got everyone out, didn’t we?”

  “Yes,” Jericho assured her. “Everyone got out. Everyone’s safe.”

  But what about Fenton? There was no way he would walk away from his masterpiece. He had to be here watching, lurking in the shadows. She turned and wrapped her arms around Jericho, pressing her body against his as she scanned the surrounding trees with her gaze. Nothing. She saw nothing.

  He’s here, Jericho. He has to still be here. Can you sense him?

  We’re not sure he’s a mystic. I’m only able to sense those with mystic energy.

  Sirens sounded in the distance as firefighters responded to the blaze. Tamara glanced at the conflagration and shook her head. The Dark Star was lost. All they could do now was make sure the flames didn’t spread to the surrounding buildings.

  With stubborn determination, she focused on the events at the heart of the crisis. Why would a twenty-four-year-old citizen of Halley Prime saddle himself with an emotionally damaged, much-older widow? Especially when that widow had a teenage daughter who was equally damaged?

  He has to be a mystic, she concluded. He was feeding on Blue all along.

  That’s why the energy build-up only happened after she was incarcerated?

  Exactly. Tamara eased away from his chest without leaving his arms. He’s here. We have to find him.

  They slowly rotated, almost as if they were dancing. Flames leapt in her peripheral vision, the roar of the fire oddly calming. She searched her memory for the rhythm of Fenton’s energy, remembering her first vision. She’d been inside Fenton’s head. She felt what he felt and saw what he saw. Could she go there again?

  Concentrating on the rhythm, she tuned out everything else. She was one with the rhythm. Nothing else existed but— Suddenly she stood in the trees at the crest of a small hill. She maintained the connection only long enough to confirm Fenton’s identity. Then she pinched off the link and gasped.

  “He’s there.” She motioned with her chin. “On the rise beyond the shuttle lot.” She looked at the wide-open lot and shook her head. “He’ll be long gone before we sprint halfway across that lot.”

  Jericho leaned down and kissed her mouth. “Not if we rattle his cage first. This is a game to him. He will not allow
himself to be outplayed.” He touched the audiocom nestled in his ear and said, “You out there, bro?” Drake must have smarted off because Jericho laughed. “Yeah, right back at you, asshole. Morton’s murderer, as well as the man responsible for this fireworks display, is hiding in the trees beyond the shuttle lot. No, don’t move in! We’re going to get you a confession. Just monitor the area and cover us from the air.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Tamara could just barely make out Fenton’s shape crouched among the bushes.

  “What are you planning?” Paul asked. “I’m in.”

  “So am I.” Blue stood beside him, dressed in a coat and nothing else. Despite the eye makeup smeared across her cheeks, determination burned in her gaze. She needed to be part of this, needed to regain control once and for all.

  “If you’re up to this, it would be perfect.” Jericho motioned them closer as he explained. “Tamara and Blue will go at him head-on. Call him a coward, demand explanations, be as disrespectful as possible.”

  “What if he has a gun?” Tamara couldn’t help the question. Infuriating a psychopath didn’t seem like the wisest strategy.

  Jericho just shook his head. “Why’d he leave Blue tied to the bed? Guns are definitely not his style. Get him talking. He wants to talk. All of this is a grand statement. He wants the world to understand his frustration, to sympathize with the wrong he’s suffered.”

  “And if you’re wrong?” Paul still looked skeptical.

  “If he makes an aggressive move, Drake will blast him from the sky.”

  “Then let’s go.” Blue hooked her arm through Tamara’s and they headed off across the mostly empty lot. She waited until Paul and Jericho were concealed by one of the perimeter vehicles before she called out, “I see you, Fenton! Guess you didn’t tie me tight enough after all!”

  He ducked behind a bush then slowly emerged, eyes wide with disbelief.

  “That’s right, you fucking coward!” Tamara yelled. “You did me a favor. The Dark Star was due for a total remodel anyway.”