by R. J. Blain
“Possibly guilt—or that he was aware something was up.”
“Precisely.” Sebastian handed me his laptop. “Here’s everything we have on all three of them. If you change your initial plans, let me know so I can get word sent down the wire. With luck, this will be over within a week.”
“I’ll need you to feed me dinner. By hand. And bring me some of that catnip. I think I’m going to need it if I’m getting half my face scrubbed off tonight in the quest to feel like a goddess.”
“After the torture is over, those things do feel pretty good, don’t they?”
“We’re going to be spa-goers, Sebastian. We’re going to be going to a spa once a month, at a minimum, because we’re vain cats who need to be pampered, and I’m not sure we can afford litters of kittens and the spa lifestyle.”
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
Fifteen
What a nice evening for my dirty, bloody work.
For three days, I played the perfect secretary hiding in a coffee shop, under the guise of my asshole boss not wanting anyone to see my scarred face. All three of those days, Stefan Loureni bought at least one coffee, and he made no effort to disguise his interest in me. Sebastian played the asshole boss perfectly, forcing me to play the part of a patience-worn but professional secretary stuck in a coffee shop to prevent his precious business partners and so on from witnessing the horrors of my visage.
Every night, he made up for his share of the work with attention. I didn’t understand his insistence on making up for anything.
It wasn’t his fault people flinched, and the paycheck headed my way once I finished the job would more than make up for the inconveniences the job lobbed my way.
The next day, Stefan Loureni purchased two drinks instead of one, and he came my way after a short detour to the lids, straws, and various spices. As that was outside of his usual habits, I made use of the necklace’s photography function, and at a tap of my phone’s screen, I set it up to continuously take one photo every twenty seconds until it ran out of storage space or lost connection with the CDC’s servers.
At most, it would last for twenty-four hours, although I doubted I needed that much time.
If Loureni was smart, he’d ditch my jewelry along with my purse shortly after making his move.
I texted Sebastian I had a bite, deleted the conversation in its entirety, and also removed all general evidence of my bounty hunting ways from the device. Once finished, I set the device aside and repeated the same with my laptop, doing as I’d done the entire time I’d been visiting the coffee shop, so my target would remain comfortable.
“May I join you?” he asked. “I asked the barista what your favorite drink is, and she gave me this. I hope you don’t mind.”
I blinked, glanced up from my work, and stared at him before staring at the coffee, which was marked with my regular drink. I expected extras, but I wouldn’t have any idea what unless I got a text from the CDC’s monitoring system when the device embedded in my arm detected something. While I hesitated, I reached over and accepted the drink. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” To adhere to my role, I closed my laptop and put it away, and I checked the time on my phone before setting it back on the table, screen down and close at hand in case Sebastian called and wanted to make my life difficult. “I have some time, and I’ve finished my work for the moment, so, sure. Please, have a seat.”
Loureni sat, and he smiled at me. “I’m Stefan. I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been here all week working quite diligently. Are you new to town?”
“Vanessa. I’m in town for business. My boss has a lot of business here this week, so I’m making sure his schedule is set and I’m available if he needs me. Today is a half day for me. He has a full meeting schedule, after which he’s socializing with some of his friends in the area. I checked my screen. “I’ll be off work in twenty minutes.”
“What wonderful timing, then. I have some time before I have to leave. Are you liking Chicago so far?”
“So far, it’s nice. Busy, and the streets are something else.”
“Underground city get you?”
“Surprisingly not. My boss was driving, and he knows his way around Chicago. I think he used to live around here before he moved to New York.” I took a sip of my gifted coffee. If it contained anything nefarious, from pixie dust to the more potent and dangerous influencer, I’d know within thirty seconds. It tasted fine, which eliminated several other drugs I’d been warned about during my briefing on what someone like Stefan Loureni might do to lure me away from the coffee shop. “I hope you tipped that barista. She remembered my drink.”
Loureni chuckled. “I did tip her for remembering. I’m glad she remembered it right. How long are you going to be in town?”
The trick to baiting the man involved being in town long enough to give him an opening—and not having any obligations to my boss tomorrow, so he would act on opportunity.
My phone beeped at me, and I sighed. “It’s probably my boss. Please give me a moment?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”
I picked my phone up off the desk and checked my text, which informed me Stefan Loureni was a very naughty boy and gave me one of the higher grades of pixie dust, which would make me inclined to do whatever he wanted rather cheerfully, although the grade was low enough I could, if presented with something serious enough, maintain limited coherent thought.
As the grade fell within my treatments’ ability to handle, I forwarded the text to Sebastian while pretending I answered before deleting the evidence. Then, forcing myself to smile, I put my phone into my purse and packed my closed laptop into its bag. “It was my boss, and I’m being cut loose a little early today. Tomorrow, I have the day off, as he has personal business in town.” As pixie dust tended to make people talkative and happy, I drank more of my coffee. “This is really good.”
“Our favorite things are usually good, but it’s made better when it’s a gift, right?”
“You’re absolutely correct.”
“As it turns out, I have off the rest of the day, too. How would you feel about seeing the sights with me? I’ll make sure you’re back in plenty of time, so you won’t have any problems with your boss.”
I considered him, drinking more of my spiked coffee. The grade he’d given me took some time to kick in, although I’d be more pliant immediately after exposure. I picked up my purse, rummaged through it, and checked my medication bottles. “Oh, good. I did bring them all. Seeing the sights sounds good. It’s rare I get any time at all. It’s usually work, work, work. I mean, I enjoy my job, except where I have to go hide out at a coffee shop because I might scare off clients and contacts, but I’m good at what I do, so my boss keeps me around anyway.” I hesitated. “Not to sound ungrateful. I am.”
“Oh, I understand. May I ask what your medications do?”
His curiosity led me to believe he planned on what he needed to do if I ran out of the three bottles. As my job involved acting like the pixie dust had its way with me, I held up the smallest bottle, which contained the blood pressure medication. “This is for my blood pressure. It’s higher than my doctor likes, and she doesn’t want it to cause strain on my heart, so I get two of these a day, once in the morning, and once in the evening.” I set that bottle back into my purse and held up the next one. “My job can be really stressful, and I developed anxiety as a result. This is a biggie, because if I have an anxiety episode, I also start suffering from depression, So, I get this one two times a day, too.” I dumped it into my purse and wrinkled my nose over the third bottle. “This is an iron supplement, and it’s the most annoying thing, but I get pretty sick without it.”
“It never fails to amaze me how the most achieving and hard-working people I know suffer from anxiety and depression. Can you go without those medications? I’ve never met someone so open about them before.”
Sure he hadn’t. I grabbed the blood pressure medication
bottle, checked the label, and peeked inside, counting pills. According to the CDC’s label, I had two refills, and I had a twenty day supply left. “I’ll need to go in for a refill in a couple of weeks. My doctor tries to keep all my prescriptions synced so I don’t have to go in as often. I just got them recently, but I tend to forget, so I am always checking the label. I can remember all of my boss’s work just fine, but when it comes to my medications?” I huffed. “I forget. Constantly. Yesterday, my boss even asked me if I had taken them, because he found out the hard way why I take them. He sprung up at me at home on a Saturday without warning, and I had a panic attack. He now makes sure he calls before he shows up unexpectedly with work things.”
“But he won’t mind you going off right now? I’d hate to get you in trouble with your boss.”
What a considerate serial killer. “As long as I answer his texts if he needs me for something, it won’t be a problem. I don’t expect him to text me until tomorrow.”
“That’s good. He sounds like a good employer.”
I bobbed my head, as it was expected of me, and I picked up my old coffee to check to make certain it was empty, downed the dregs, and took a sip of the spiked coffee. “He is. Sometimes overbearing, but he works hard.”
“Would you like me to throw that out for you?”
“Oh. Please. That’s very kind of you.”
Loureni took the empty cup, got rid of it, and rejoined me, and I took that as my cue to get up and start the dangerous, exciting, and reckless portion of my week. While I’d done a lot of jobs, I’d never been kidnapped before. All I needed to finish the job was some more intel and an excuse to start with the killing. I’d even be good for once in my life and apologize for worrying Sebastian, despite it being part of the job.
I disliked when my lion worried, and I expected the CDC would need to either sedate him or let him loose on the Loureni brothers to keep him contained. And if there was a woman working with them, my lion wouldn’t be getting anywhere near her, as I enjoyed being jealous now that I had someone worth being jealous over.
“Our first stop will be the parking garage, where I can retrieve my chariot to show you the best Chicago has to offer.”
“How many horses does your chariot have?”
“I have an Audi. My model has just under three hundred horses, but it’s a really nice ride and great for showing people the sights. It’s comfortable, so I hope you’ll like it.”
My car could eat his car for lunch, but rather than say that, I smiled for him. “I can’t wait. This is just what I needed after a long week of work.”
“I’m so pleased my timing was fortuitous for the both of us.”
If only he knew.
I gave Loureni credit; he played the game well, and if I hadn’t known of his connection with the disappearances and murders of numerous women, I would have assumed he meant well and wanted to show me a good time. He took me around Chicago to make me comfortable, bought me another doctored coffee, took me out to dinner and doctored that, too, and even made certain I took all of my medications on time.
It amused me he kept upping the grade of pixie dust, capping out one step below the highest grade. Even with the prescription medications the CDC had tossed my way, I got a good hit of it, although I stayed on the right side of coherent. It made my job easier, as I played the role of happy well.
Being happy even before he’d shoveled a ridiculous amount of illegal drugs down my throat helped with that.
At eight in the evening, after dinner and while he believed his drugs would keep me higher than a kite for possibly all of eternity, he got on with the kidnapping portion of our day, heading for the outskirts of Chicago rather than back to his office building.
Perfect.
“You’re right. This car is really nice.” It was, too. When Sebastian wanted to go look for a new vehicle, I’d tell him about Loureni’s Audi, except I wanted ours to be bigger, better, and capable of seating at least six. I was my mother’s daughter, and we’d eventually have litters upon litters of children, and we’d both be to blame for it, as I loved children, he loved children, and I loved everything involved with making children with him.
Apparently, pixie dust transformed me into a Sebastian-hunting fiend, and I would need to inquire with the CDC if I could pretty please have some illegal substances for recreational purposes. And procreational purposes.
I somehow remembered I couldn’t purr where Loureni might hear me.
“This is one of my conceits. When I first got into business, I swore I’d have a nice car, and I wanted an Audi. When I earned enough to get one, I picked this model line; I couldn’t yet afford a bigger model, but this one was good enough. Then I started driving it, and I never changed model lines. I get a new one every year or two, depending on how fond I am of it. This one is two years old, and I’ll keep it even when I upgrade. I like it that much.”
I could understand why. “I don’t actually have a car.” Technically, I didn’t, not until my uncle signed it over to me and Sebastian, and I would force the lion to be a co-owner with me. “If I really need one, I rent one. I don’t really need a car, though. I live close to work, and the times my work requires me to drive somewhere, they provide the vehicle.”
The vehicle came with my lion, and I wanted to get my job done so I could get my paws on him.
“Yet they won’t provide you with a company car permanently?”
“I live right next to work. Where would I put a car? Real estate in New York isn’t cheap. And I like the exercise. Keeps me fit, although winters can be tough. I don’t mind not having a car. I’m usually at home when I’m not working anyway. I have a lot of hobbies to keep myself amused with.”
“Like what?”
“I crochet, I knit sometimes, and I sew quilts. It’s time consuming, so I usually watch tv or read a book while doing it. I go out sometimes, just not often. I make baby blankets and things for family and friends.”
“Do you like children?”
“I love them. I’m a go-to among my family and friends for watching the little ones. I make no promises the little one doesn’t go home wanting to knit or crochet and having the basic skills to do so, and if they’re older, I teach them to sew, too. I’ve found kids love being creative, and they love attention, so it works well for me.”
I loved I lied without actually lying, as I would watch the kittens whenever my parents let me, which was not as often as I liked, as there were many other people around to help watch the kittens. For some reason, my parents rightfully believed I might create chaos if I were given full rein and authority over the kittens.
“Have you thought about becoming a teacher?”
I sighed, gesturing to my face. “Why this face? I make kids cry until they get to know me, Stefan. I’ve accepted it’s just not happening for me. Or having a kid, either. Men run from this face.”
“I didn’t run.”
“You are a rare exception.”
“That’s a shame. You’re a sweet woman.”
I almost laughed in his face. Instead, I thanked him. I wondered if he would still think I was nice when I ripped his throat out, one of my few options for a clean kill without the benefit of a weapon. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself, Stefan?”
He smiled, and in the manner of selfish men who believed themselves entitled to all of the attention in the world, told me his dull, dry, and unimpressive history from the day he entered school and realized he deserved to be the best.
So much for Mr. Considerate, but because he believed he had me dosed with some of the world’s best pixie dust, I pretended to enjoy his story and that I actually cared about him and the tiny details of his life.
It took almost three hours for him to take me to the secondary location, a rather large two-storied cabin in the woods. The lights illuminating the building gave it top marks for being creepy. Go me. Not only had I gotten kidnapped by a probable serial killer, he’d delved into the depths of every damned seri
al killer stereotype on the planet.
What an idiotic, shallow man.
“This is my vacation home. I spend my weekends here, and I often come out whenever I have any time off work. It lets me get away and enjoy privacy.”
“I bet it’s really quiet here.”
“The closest neighbor is five miles away.”
Damn. I wanted a cabin like his, and I wondered if Sebastian would be game. Five miles of empty space between us and our neighbors would help mitigate some of the problems associated with vocal lynxes hunting stubborn lions.
Stupid pixie dust, revving my engine while my damned lion was inaccessible for my enjoyment. I kept from hissing, although it disappointed me even the higher grades couldn’t mitigate my annoyance over being separated from Sebastian.
Nobody had warned me separation anxiety was an issue in lynx lycanthropes. Then again, I couldn’t remember a time when my mother strayed far from my father.
I needed to have a few words with my mother about my overabundance of inherited traits.
As I was a happily drugged secretary who absolutely wanted nothing more than to be taken into a murder cabin, I got out of his car, grabbed my purse and laptop bag, and stared up at it, marveling that a log cabin could be so large or elegant. “I didn’t even know they made cabins like this. This is so nice.”
“It’s custom built.”
Of course it was. Custom meant prestigious, which also meant it appealed to the rich, the famous, and those wishing to become rich or famous.
What a nice place to kill people, and what a nice evening for my dirty, bloody work. I sighed, and I smiled. “I love the outdoors.”
“Why don’t I show you inside, and then if you’d like, we can take a walk in the woods.”