by Marie Harte
Hal nodded. Conversation resumed around the table. The rest of the meal passed in surprising normalcy, as if he hosted a dinner party for civilized men, and not a pack of dogs waiting for him to throw them a bone.
Ray contained his disgust and encouraged conversation. He didn’t much care for any of the men around him. Once again, he wondered about Peter. His friend had finally called and was on his way, but his vague excuse for missing the jet bothered Ray. Almost as much as Jed Black’s continued displays of possession annoyed him. The way Black’s large hands continued to caress and fondle Alex during dinner had not only offended him, but caused him to feel protective of the young woman.
She deserved better than the animal mauling her. Ray would never do such a thing. In the privacy of his own bedroom, touching would of course be a necessity. But to display it so openly curdled his stomach, as did most of the men he’d invited to his home.
Hypocrites, the lot of them. Black at least remained true to himself. He came across as a man who took what he wanted, and he did. Like Ray, who knew exactly what he wanted out of life—redemption. A surcease from the unending agonies of guilt and rage that consumed him between bouts of mania.
During those manic phases, Ray reveled in women and drugs and death. He especially liked killing, and he made no bones about it. The rush of ending a life aroused him more than any woman ever had...until Alex.
As she talked to her lover and the senator across the table from her, Ray wondered if she knew what Jed did for a living. The innocent woman she appeared would balk at the idea of women being drugged and sold as slaves. His angel would shun Black the minute she learned what a villain he truly was. She would, of course, make an exception for Ray. Like that unexplainable lust that had first drawn her to Black, Alex would be unable to stop herself from surrendering to him. A woman’s place—obedient, God-fearing, and pliable.
The meal drew to a close. Yasef leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Peter’s arrived. Should I direct everyone to the green room once they’re finished?”
Ray nodded, relieved Peter had finally come. He sat back and waited, curious to see how Black would handle Alex.
“Honey, you go on back to the room,” Jed murmured to her. “It’s time for business. Don’t worry. When I’m done, I’m sure I’ll be ready for you again.” He leaned close and kissed her full on the mouth, heedless of the envious stares around him.
Releasing her, he turned and cast a hard look on the others staring at them, forcing them to look away. Possessive and base, but very effective. He acted like a dog marking its territory.
Alex blushed. “Yes, Jed.” She turned and gifted Ray with a shy smile. “Thank you for a lovely meal. I hope your business proves fruitful tonight.”
“Oh, I’m sure it shall.” Ray stood when she did and bowed a good night. He watched her leave, and turned back to see Black studying him without expression.
“I think once the meeting is over, you and I will have something to talk about, hmm?” Jed drawled.
“Perhaps.” Ray shrugged, then turned to the others. “Gentlemen? Follow me please. It’s time to get down to business.”
ALEX WALKED DOWN THE corridor to her room and almost ran into Peter Omaney.
“Peter,” she said, startled. “I missed you.”
Peter looked harried. His cheek and jaw appeared bruised, his lower lip looked swollen, and he had dark circles under his eyes.
“Are you okay?”
He continued to look at her, saying nothing. Her unease grew, especially when he smiled. There was no joy in his expression, but a feral amusement. At her expense?
“Peter?” He was really creeping her out.
“Going to bed?” He licked his lips, dragging his tongue across a spot of dried blood.
“Yes. I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.”
“And it’s bound to get longer.” Peter shocked her by wrapping a hand around her throat. But he didn’t squeeze. He trailed his fingers down her chest, into the valley between her breasts. “Jed’s no saint, is he? Not like you. Sweet dreams, Alex.”
The minute he turned away, she hurried down the hall and threw herself into the room. She locked the door behind her and leaned back against the door, her heart pounding. Oh my God. He knows.
JED BLACK SAT WITH eight other guests and waited for Ray to begin. He couldn’t wait for the cavalry to arrive. Four of these assholes had influential ties to the government. The other four had money coming out their ears. Only a handful were currently under investigation for suspected criminal activity, but mostly white-collar crap, nothing so vile as slave trading.
After a half hour of bullshit, Ray called the group to order and everyone took seats in his large media room. Peter Omaney walked in behind the others and sat next to Hunter in the back. After directing a grim smile his way, Peter nodded to Ray. Shit. What the hell did that mean? Hunter forced himself not to tense while he mentally prepared for the worst. He relaxed when the guards at the doors remained at ease, and Ray began to speak.
Ray stood, confident and controlled. “I appreciate your patience, my friends. Before we begin, I’d like to reiterate that security is as tight as a drum. I know a few of you have expressed concern about new faces, but I can assure you this is a private auction. Everyone present has been thoroughly searched, as has their luggage. The house is resistant to outside tampering, electronic and otherwise. Even if you still had your cell phones, you’d be unable to get a signal.”
True, unless J.D. Morgan designed your transmitter. Hunter ignored several glances in his direction and raised a brow at Ray, aware that he—Jed Black—had caused more than a few concerns with the others.
“Excellent. Now then, let’s get on with it, shall we?” Ray nodded to Yasef, who dimmed the lights and began punching buttons on a small remote.
At the front of the room, blue velvet curtains parted to reveal a large white screen. It flickered to life, revealing a black background.
“What you are going to see next is just an example of what Plezure can do, in the right formulaic state. We’ve been developing a new concentration, and this latest batch seems to work best.”
Numbers counted down until a picture appeared. A naked woman lay bound on a bed. She looked pale and scared. Tears fell down her cheeks and multiple bruises marred her skin. It wasn’t Rebecca, but he recognized the female. Hunter’s stomach rolled. Victoria Pinello, the daughter of an evangelical holy roller, had been abducted three months ago. Her body had been found floating off the coast a month after she’d disappeared. Police chalked it up to a random crime. Now Hunter knew better.
“Some of you may recognize Victoria from her father, Vincent Pinello.” Several of the men murmured in surprise. “Victoria was a Yale grad and a major follower in her father’s footsteps. She helped raise millions for his church in the years she spent working with him. Like I told you before, I’ve acquired only the best and the brightest for you gentlemen. No street whores or drugged-out vermin.”
God forbid we don’t have the best for this lot. Hunter deliberately relaxed his grip on the arms of his chair.
“Sophistication, purity, intelligence, and beauty.” Ray nodded. “As you can see, Victoria isn’t eager to perform. Not until we give her some of this.”
The woman struggled, rubbing her wrists raw. She cried and begged to be let go. Then Yasef, the bastard, injected her with a syringe. Ten minutes later, the woman eased into anything he wanted. Everyone watched the duration of the picture. A half hour later, Victoria stared sightlessly at the ceiling over her bed. Yasef had cut her throat after cutting her in several other places.
Hunter prayed Yasef hadn’t treated the others like this. The psychotic bastard.
Congressman Ulie huffed his displeasure. “Hell, Ray. I’m not interested in sullied trash. For what I’m paying, I expect perfection.”
“Of course not, Bill. Victoria was a test. She served her purpose. The women we now have for sale are clean, unmolested, and devoid
of any bruising but the emotional toll their stay has brought them. Many have been drugged over time to keep them docile, preventing any harm.”
Several of the men around him nodded.
“Good, good.” Ulie, the prick, looked pleased.
“Now, I realize several of you don’t have the facilities to keep and maintain the girls, so I’ve decided to offer my services. A housekeeping service, if you will. Arrangements may be made after the auction.”
“So you have them in house?” Hunter asked in a low voice.
“Of course,” Ray answered. “I keep them close and constantly monitored. I wouldn’t sell you tainted product.”
“’Course not,” Hal, sitting in the front, added. “Been dealing with Ray for years. He’s aboveboard.”
“Thank you, Hal.”
The lovefest sickened him. A few more men asked questions, details about pedigrees, finances, ages, and more, until Ray held up a hand.
“Gentlemen, please. I think the best way to proceed is to take you to them.”
Hunter’s pulse leapt.
“This way, please.”
He moved to follow the others to the door when Peter held him back. “What?” Hunter growled.
“You and I have to talk.”
“Not now, Pete. We’ve just gotten to the good part.” Hunter grinned through his teeth. “Take your hand away, or I’ll break it off.”
Peter quickly removed his hand, and Hunter noticed bruises over his knuckles. To his surprise, he noted several more under some makeup that didn’t quite match Peter’s skin tone.
Peter glanced around him, and seeing no one about, said in a low voice, “Fine. Follow Ray and the others. But meet me in the dining hall afterward. It’s about Alex, and it’s important.”
Hunter wanted to blow him off, but mention of Alex caught his attention. “I’ll be there.” He hurried out the door and caught the tail end of the group meandering outside. God willing, he’d see Rebecca passed out and untouched, oblivious to this nightmare. Because the sooner he rescued her and took Alex out of this evil place, the better.
Chapter Fourteen
An hour and a half later, Alex still couldn’t sleep. Pretending to be calm while she wanted to run after Hunter was killing her. Hell, she couldn’t even pace out her nervousness. Mindful of the cameras, she pretended to sleep in the sexy lingerie someone had packed for her. She had a feeling J.D. had packed their suitcases, since he’d given her a wicked smile when he’d handed her the bag earlier. His penchant for silk and lace definitely called for a sit down.
The white teddy and silk white wrap that came to mid-thigh were not helping her to feel invulnerable. All she needed were fuzzy heels to complete the outfit.
Nervous, she tossed again, glad for the room’s darkness, at least.
He knew. Somehow, Peter knew. The question then became, how much did he know, and how had he found out? The chance remained that Hunter’s cover would hold. Jed Black had been honed over years. Unlike Alexandra Tyrell, who’d been crafted a few weeks ago and didn’t have much in the way of background other than what had been recently created for her.
They still had that device in Hunter’s shaving kit, the one that would call the troops in. But, until they found Rebecca, they couldn’t afford to blow their cover, or whatever of it remained. Wracking her nerves to decide what to do, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the sound of a key in the doorknob scraped. Quickly sitting up, she turned on the light beside the bed and shrugged into the wrap she’d laid next to her. Not that it did much to cover her, but it would shield her a little from the cameras.
The knob turned, and she waited anxiously to share her news. She’d never before wanted a shower so much.
Except Peter stood in the doorway.
He closed the door behind him and leaned back on it. “Your boyfriend is otherwise occupied, Alex. That is your real name, isn’t it?”
“Peter? Are you all right? You don’t look well.”
He looked better than he had when she’d last seen him. He must have doctored his face to hide the trauma. “I’m a lot better than you’re going to be.” He stepped forward, his gaze lingering on her breasts. “So sweet. Too bad you’re not who you say you are. Then again, it really doesn’t matter. One way or the other, you’re going to tell me what you know. I can be nice, or I can be nasty. Which do you want, sweetheart?” He sneered and raced through the buttons on his shirt. “I’m all for nasty.”
Alex didn’t move. What would Hunter do in a situation like this? He’d handle it. Plain and simple. In this world of danger and make-believe, control would win in the end. And she still held that psychic ace in the hole.
The panic she’d initially felt faded. Calm purpose took over. “What do you think you know?” she asked coolly and crossed her arms under her breasts, aware that she enhanced her cleavage by doing so.
He licked his lips and fixated on her chest. “I know your name is Alexandra Sainte. You work for a private investigation firm. Probably tied to the government. They’re just itching to take us down.” He tossed his shirt to the floor and paused at the buckle on his belt. More bruises scraped along his ribs. “You don’t look scared. Why is that?”
“You’re not so scary.” She shrugged. “I’m more worried about what Black will do if he finds out.”
Peter regarded her with skepticism. “Do you honestly expect me to believe he doesn’t already know?”
“Do you honestly think I’d still be alive if he knew? For all that Jed has a fierce reputation, even he can fall prey to that monster between his legs.” She gave Peter a cold smile. “You all do.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed. “You little bitch.” Then he laughed, surprising her. “You and Ray were made for each other. Amazing what a man will do for a piece of ass, he’s always told me. And he’s right. Mr. Bad Ass terrorist taken in by a Fed. I can’t wait to see his face when Ray tells him.”
“So you’ve already told Ray who I am?” Please say no. Then again, if he hasn’t, the camera has already ruined my shot at pretending. Shit.
“Not yet. You’re going to ease my way into his good graces. Corruption of the Saint, literally. You know something, Alex? Your asshole friends almost got me. But a friend tipped me off.” He gently stroked his cheek and some makeup rubbed away. She could see the purpling bruise beneath. “They didn’t expect me to escape.”
“What friends are you talking about?”
“That’s right. Stick to your script.” Peter unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. When he slid the zipper down, Alex steeled her mind and shifted the covers from her lower body. Peter already stood too close. But she wanted to be on her feet before he took the last few steps separating them.
Peter stuck his hand in his pants and squeezed himself.
Alex wanted to look anywhere but at him, but she kept her gaze centered on his lust-filled face.
“Come here, you little bitch. On your knees,” he said thickly.
“Watch who you call a bitch,” Alex murmured before she stepped closer and rammed her knee into his groin.
Peter tried to avoid her, but, already banged up, he shifted too late. On a groan, he clutched himself and fell to the ground.
Alex followed with a kick to his ribs and one to his face.
Before she could grab the lamp to knock him senseless, the door burst open and a guard shot her, right in the neck.
Alex gasped at the prick of pain and felt for blood. Her fingers found a small dart. Not good.
Fearful she would pass out before she could escape, Alex sent the guards into the walls with a flick of her wrist and her will. A sudden fog pressed all around her, and she forced one step after another out the door.
She made it a few feet down the hallway when another prick of pain hit her shoulder. Dizzy, Alex fell hard on her hands and knees. But before she could trace the gold vein on the marble rising to meet her face, blackness overtook her, and she saw nothing more.
HUNTER EXPERIENCED
an odd sense of lightheadedness as he stared down at an unconscious Rebecca Mitchell. He wavered on his feet and shook his head. Bracing a hand on the wall, it took a moment before he regained his equilibrium.
He sensed trouble for Alex. Perhaps Peter had gone to Alex when Hunter hadn’t shown for their meeting. Then again, several of Ray’s guests had stayed behind to sample the merchandise before buying. Hunter scowled down at the syringe in his hand, one of many Ray had handed out. A shot of whatever the hell it contained would rouse Rebecca.
Not likely, since he wanted her quiet and easily managed. Thanks to soundproofed walls, Hunter couldn’t hear the nightmare outside, nor could anyone hear him. A glance at the lone covered window on the door assured him of privacy.
A light flared on the slim phone mounted to the wall next to the door. Ray wanting him, maybe? Peter demanding his presence?
Hunter took a deep breath, then exhaled before answering. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.” J.D.’s voice carried softly over the phone. “Just returning your call.” Hunter had recently plugged in the transponder and pressed the button. “Don’t ask how I did it, just accept my genius and gimme the deets.”
After explaining their arrival and Omaney’s odd appearance, Hunter quickly sketched a rough picture of the mansion’s layout and security, as well as the guesthouse’s positioning in relation to the grounds and the guards.
After a few moments of silence, J.D. informed him of the extraction team’s timeline. J.D. had bypassed some electronic security guarding the actual island, but he still had a few hurdles to overcome. Between his efforts and the logistics to get the rest of the team into place, he figured another half hour before the shit hit the fan.
Just enough time to find Alex, grab Rebecca, and haul ass into the surrounding jungle north of the estate.
“You better be damn sure you know what you’re doing,” Hunter growled.
“Have a little faith.”