I took the drink and tried to ignore the smile.
“Just a feeling,” she said. “I didn’t think you were happy with the way our interview went. I couldn’t imagine that you would take all of that shit at face value. Simon says you inspected one of the adjacent rooms.”
“Just enough to what kind of shithole you were running there.”
Her eyes darted away. She didn’t smile, didn’t offer any excuses. She returned her eyes to me. “Are you going to bring her back to him?”
I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Are you going to bring her back to this—to him?” Her voice became quiet. “To me?”
“You don’t want me to.” It was a statement.
Her smile was sad. “Not every inmate can grow to run the asylum. Lenny doesn’t have the stomach for it. She’s already all but dead inside.”
“Lenny?”
“Yeah, that’s the name she goes by.”
“From her middle name, Lenore? Or was Miriam an alias?”
Ramacci gave a quick shake of her head. “I like her, but we’re not friends.”
“The Lunatics keep files on their girls.”
She laughed. “The pic is the only real part of those files.”
“So they don’t even know?”
“Oh, they know. It’s how they find leverage on girls that resist. Nothing motivates a girl to get on her knees faster than the thought of a younger brother or sister that’ll have to take her place.”
I looked out at the city. This was such a fucked-up job. “Ok, what’s Katsaros’ angle? What did she take that’s so goddamned important?”
Ramacci shook her head. “I can’t imagine. Simon thinks she’s a plant. Some kind of spy.”
“Working for who?”
“Take your pick: one of the millions Katsaros has wronged, a competitor, political rival. The possibilities are endless.”
“Katsaros isn’t a political figure.”
Her voice became a deep, mocking baritone. “Real power isn’t derived from being a politician but from owning them.”
“Is that his idea of pillow talk?”
“You men. Stroke the right place with the right parts and you’ll preen like a peacock. Katsaros is no different.”
“So Katsaros does a lot of political fundraising?”
“Fundraising? He’s one of the most influential members of the LAC”
“LAC?”
“Lunar Action Committee. It’s a council that controls the purse strings flowing into candidates’ coffers. They have a lot of pull.”
I put that gem in my pocket. “So, this thing she stole: how’d she get it?”
“About two months ago I was asked to detail a special party. Something to fit a wide array of high-octane—desires.”
“High-octane spenders or perverts?”
“Yes,” she bared her teeth. “One of the first rules of this business: the bigger the spender, the more twisted his tastes.”
I took a breath and looked at Ramacci. That cold-hearted madam who made a living on the suffering of ‘her girls’ seemed far away from this place.
“Anyhow, the party was in Katsaros’ penthouse on top of The Olympian. Whatever she took, she took it then.”
“So, what was it?”
“Are you kidding? My job is to keep their egos stroked and their cocks wet. That isn’t something they’d share with me! Beat my ass for letting her get away, though. This is my first week without a yellow and green face.”
“Simon?”
“You know what they say: shit rolls downhill.”
I nodded.
“You’re not gonna do it, are you?”
I looked at her, the question on my face.
“Turn her back over to that monster, you’re not going to do it.”
I looked out at the city. “Don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“Yes, you do. You just don’t realize what you’ve done.” She stood and moved to me. She draped her arms on my shoulders and stared at me with sultry, hungry eyes.
Blood rushed from my brain and found a home in my groin. She drew me close against her. My heart pounded. My head spun. I wanted her so badly.
She kissed me on the lips. Again and again. Her tongue found its way into my mouth. She pushed her pelvis against me, stroking the right place with the right part. I moaned into her mouth. Her breathing was deep and hungry.
My hands traced her spine and across the bottom of her hourglass. I bit her neck. She grunted. Her voice was strained by barely contained desire. “You’ve made a deal with the devil.” She whimpered as my hand found her areola and pinched her nipple. “If you don’t stop now, you may never get out!”
I didn’t know if she was talking about Katsaros or her. Either way, I wasn’t stopping. My other hand slipped under her dress. She was hot and wet. So was I. I spun and pinned her to the wall.
Her eyes flew open. It seemed like hours of kissing and groping, but I could finally take it no more. I pulled her off her feet and into my arms. I carried her across the balcony and to the doors to her bedroom. Her panties lay in our wake.
I took my time, exploring her body and letting her explore mine. She did things I’d never had done before and I was able to do things to her that Suze had long stopped letting me do. She looked in my eyes as I slipped inside her, unbridled passion mirrored there.
She was no longer a whore, and I wasn’t some has-been cop. We were two people who’d made bad choices washing away our pain in an orgy of passion. I tried to hold back, but that familiar tingle began to spread across my groin and I couldn’t.
I called her name and pulled her hair. Carnal bliss consumed my body and I closed my eyes. I opened them, panting and sweating. She was staring at me, her face a mixture of tender affection and satisfied pleasure. I rolled off of her, panting in the dim lighting. “Oh, my God!”
Her moan reminded me of a cat’s purr. She rolled into my arms and started to run her fingers through my chest hair. I could feel the smile on my face. I refused to think. Life would come back soon enough. Right now I just wanted to feel.
I don’t know how long I was asleep, but Allyssa was still laying on my shoulder, those beautiful dark eyes studying my face, her nimble fingers running through the hair on my chest.
“What are you thinking?” I said.
“How lucky she is—Lenny—to have you looking for her.”
I took a deep breath and felt the spell start to break. “I told you: I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
Her smile might have belonged to a child. “I do.”
I looked up at the ceiling and realized her hand wasn’t on my chest anymore. She threw her leg across me. She gripped me in her hand and mounted me. “Now you lay right there, mister, and I’ll do the work.”
I watched her work: her face, her breasts, and her legs. Bliss didn’t come so soon, and it wasn’t until her thrusts became broken by involuntary spasms and I could feel her tighten inside before I was again calling her name.
*******
I had forgotten all about Shannon. I really didn’t expect her to be waiting when I reached the roof pad, but I spotted her car easing down towards me. I climbed inside and strapped myself in.
“That was quite a show you put on, Mister Parker.” Her face was one big grin.
I was confused.
“On the balcony, that was really something. If I hadn’t had to fly this car…”
I forced a smile and looked out the window. Back in Allyssa’s apartment, I’d only wanted to feel. Now that the spell was broken, it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“She kept you in there quite a while. You sure must’ve had a lot to talk about.”
I thought about our ‘talk’ in her bedroom. “She’s quite the conversationalist.”
S
hannon laughed.
*******
I was soon looking down at The Floor. Michael “E-Rod” Taylor was punk-turned-chattel-broker. He specialized in preying on young boys and girls, in taking advantage of their broken homes and poor self-esteem and turning it into a profitable enterprise for The Lunatics.
He was a regular agent of commerce.
I was dressed in ripped, dirty jeans. My long-sleeved plaid shirt was rolled up to my elbows. I had a pic of Lenny in my hand. She was beautiful: raven hair, chalk white skin, ruby red lipstick, just like a little China doll.
I frowned and felt sick with myself. I descended the final couple of steps to The Floor and let the scum immerse me. Aphrodite’s Parlor seemed a bit flowery for The Lunatics, but that was the name they chose. Two more big bad goons were standing at the door.
I didn’t look at either one, but scanned the inside of the black-lit parlor out of the corner of my eye. It was full, always was. Security didn’t seem extra tight. Of course, that didn’t mean that extra goons couldn’t be hiding in private rooms, and beefed up electronics would be almost impossible to see. This really wasn’t cool.
I slipped around to the service alley and ditched my bag in close proximity to the Parlor’s back door but never slowed. Everything had been set ahead of time. It landed just how I needed it to. I didn’t stop. I didn’t look. I kept walking and made the next street.
I got back to the front of the building and slipped into the line. It was shorter than it might have been hours ago, but was still plenty long. I stepped between the two soldiers. Both were tall and lean.
One had bronze skin. Most of his face was light blue. His eye sockets were black. The irises and sclera of his eyes were tatted red, and his hair was dyed an inky blue. He wore black fatigues and a beret. He was scary to behold.
His partner had a lighter complexion with glossy white ink on his face. His nose, eye sockets, and the area around his mouth were black. There was no ink on his iris, just pale blue wolf eyes. He was wearing a pair of brown cargo pants and a baggy, bright orange button-down shirt. It parted just above his flat abdomen, exposing a taut, muscular chest.
Why couldn’t just one of these guys be fat and out-of-shape? I looked The Skull in the eye and gave my best lewd smile. “Is there a place I can get some special treatment? I have some—particular needs.”
The skull didn’t look too impressed. I’m sure he heard that kind of thing all the time. “We do all kinds of special here, pal.”
My stomach rolled and I leaned closer. I drew the gray kerchief I’d been wearing from around my neck and put as much slime onto my face as I could. I turned my voice into a hungry whisper. “You don’t understand. I’m throwing a big party—corporate, heavy hitters. They need all kinds of things. Do you have animals?”
The two guards shared a look of amusement.
“You don’t look very corporate,” the one with the red eyes scanned the fake implant from my undercover days that I’d installed, “Mr. Anders.”
I glared at him and gave a why-do-you-let-that-guy-talk look to The Skull. “You think they’re gonna send one of their people down here? I’m a hired go-between.”
There was a whole network already in place for this kind of business and both men knew it. I had to get them to believe that I was working for someone who didn’t. I could have used Allyssa’s contact route, but I was liable to hurt more than feelings here and I didn’t want that traced back to her. She’d given me the place to start. That was enough.
“I understand they’re willing to pay a lot of money.”
“This place already makes a lot of money, Mr. Anders,” said Red Eye.
The Skull was listening.
I looked them both over and said. “Ok, I’ll tell Mr. Morton that a talking skull and a red-eyed blue demon turned me away. I’m sure he can get that message to the people he needs to.”
I turned, but The Skull had a hand on my arm.
“Wait!”
My heart galloped. I closed my fist and tried to figure out how I’d survive this fight.
“Give me a minute.” He stepped aside and let me down three steps into the lounge. I waited and tried not to look at the deals being brokered around the room. The place was a compact double, just like the Revolution. It had an effect of bringing you closer to the filth. I fixed my gaze on the wall and tried to pretend I was somewhere else.
One of the semi-naked barmaids offered me a drink.
I shook my head.
“Mr. Anders?”
I turned. The man was slight and short. He didn’t wear any tats but did have a suit. It would never hang in Angelo Katsaros’ wardrobe, but it was nicer than anything I’d ever owned.
His grip was weak and palm sweaty. “I’ve been sent to see how I can help you.”
I dropped back into full pervert mode and leered at him. “I’m friends with a topsider looking for some—entertainment.” I beamed my slyest, dirtiest smile at him. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He pursed his lips. His eyes shifted and looked over both of my shoulders in a way that made me want to watch my back. “I might know, but those things are normally handled through different—channels.”
“I see. This is just for the dine-in crowd, catering comes in the back door.” I broke into a sleazy laugh and nudged him with my closed fist. “Get it? Back door?”
The man didn’t smile. He did flinch at my touch. It might have spoken highly of his character if he hadn’t worked in this cesspool. “Yes—something like that.”
I heard The Skull chuckle.
The small man put a finger on his ear and turned from me. He spoke in a low voice. I was busy sharing a perverted bonding moment with The Skull and found myself wondering if he hadn’t chosen this assignment for the benefits.
“It’s ok,” the little man said. “Come with me.”
We passed through the throng and a locked and guarded door. We ascended stairs to the mezzanine. The ground floor rooms were broken up into a lattice work of one-way glass. There was a catwalk that crisscrossed the whole network. The ceiling was so tight up here, anyone more than two meters had to stoop. The enforcers scattered about the catwalks didn’t seem to mind. They were already staring down at the goings-on through the one way glass.
The room below us had a blonde woman doing a striptease routine. Another was whipping her John. He was tied into a fetal position and was wearing some kind of saddle-looking thing.
The little man didn’t even spare a glance.
I leaned over his shoulder so that my breath would warm his ear. “They don’t even know we’re here? Do they?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh yeah!” I said. “Mirrors on the ceiling!”
We moved past more soldiers with different tattoo patterns. They gave us passing glances. Most, it seemed, were enjoying the show. The door was unguarded. That struck me as careless, but I wasn’t going to complain.
The little man knocked. There was a buzz and he pushed the door open. I passed through and into a nasty office. The bare, unfinished floor was dirty. Clutter was everywhere. Fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare down on us. The little man hadn’t followed. We were alone.
Michael E-Rod Taylor leaned back in a chair, his feet propped on the desk. He was looking at a holo-display with lots of flesh tones. He was a pasty-looking fellow with a long skinny neck and pockmarked face. He had long red hair that must’ve had some adverse response to soap and water.
He wore lots of piercings, but, save for a pair of inverted triangles dipping down from under his eyes, he was tattoo-free. ‘Real’ Lunatics couldn’t like that. But, they did like the money they made from his commerce of smut.
I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. I might get my chance before this little visit was over. I hoped.
He looked at me, hands behind his head. He seemed
to be sizing me up. “Keefer tells me you have some kind of special kink that you think we might not have here.”
I put that perverse gleam back in my eye. “That’s right! Special party!”
He kept studying me. I got the feeling his street-sense was tingling. I gestured towards the hologram. “Is that going on right now?” I positioned myself to get a better view, but my attention was on him.
He wasn’t buying me. I could see it. He was beginning to shift his weight. I reached out with my foot and kicked him right in the face. He toppled backwards and skipped off the floor in the weak lunar gravity. The inertia didn’t dissipate until he impacted the back wall. I was atop him and pulling his greasy hair before he could reach for anything.
I did a quick search—nothing.
“Lover, not a fighter. That it, E-Rod?”
He squirmed. Blood flowed from his nose and a nasty gash in his mouth. The hardware he was wearing had really messed him up. He would need some dermal cement. He was gonna need more than that by the time I was done. “Who the fuck are you?”
I snatched his head back and bounced it off the floor. “I’m asking the questions here!”
He glared at me through bleary eyes.
“Let me set the rules, right now! Just walking through this den of filth and smut makes me feel like some kind of degenerate for not putting this place to the sword, and I would like nothing more than to cleanse that sin with a little E-Rod blood—maybe gallons of it. So, if I think you’re not gonna give me what I want, or you try to betray me, I will fucking kill you as slowly and painfully as I can. Do you understand?”
He stared, fear on his face.
I slammed his head again. “Do you?”
He whimpered, and I smelled warm ammonia. I glanced at his pants. A wet stain was spreading across his crotch.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I glanced at the hologram. It was broken into four different scenes: one took up the right half of the display, the other three shared the rest of the hologram in a vertical column. “Get that shit off of there, and get me the security feeds outside this room. Manually, no pReC.”
E-Rod nodded, righted the chair, and sat in it. He shifted a little. He didn’t seem to like his pants covered in urine. It took just a few swipes across the hologram to remove the smut and replace it with the whole mezzanine and catwalk area. The soldiers were still spread out, enjoying their voyeurism. The view of the stairwell was clean. The lounge was still full, but nothing alarming.
Lunatic City Page 8