“I can see.” Thick fingers caressed Hugo’s cheek with surprising tenderness. “Let’s have our moment, Hugo. There are computers and satellites and people looking for him. Right this second, we can’t do much more than wait until he’s located. It’s not that they’re going to kill him. They need him alive and willing.”
“True.” Hugo grabbed Snyder’s ass and pulled him down, allowing the weight of the other man to crush him and make him forget his uneasiness regarding Angel’s wellbeing. “I am to remain in France until he is found.”
“Then, mon chéri, I’ll stay in France with you until you kick me to the curb.” Snyder offered waggling his eyebrows.
Hugo riposted with a straight face, “I’m insatiable, not stupid.”
They laughed riotously, and then trashed the room with their sexual acrobatics, until hotel security politely invited them to seek accommodations in less respectable parts of the city. Which, of course, they were happy to oblige.
“Countess Tau, we have Martan Kovak on secure line four,” her assistant informed with just his head floating inside the office.
How many times had she told the lackey to stop using the door as shield? It’s not like she threw things at him every time he was in her presence. Mostly.
She picked the antique receiver and dialed four. They’d tried to tell her they cannot use old fashioned phones for modern purposes. They had figured it out, hadn’t they?
“Countess Tau.” Kovak’s gruff voice insulted her ear.
She lashed out, “I know who I am. To the point, Kovak.”
Something similar to a muffled growl preceded Kovak’s exposure, “The target is on his way and we have everything prepared. By next full moon, he’ll be prepped and ready to open the second gate.”
Tau arched an eyebrow and traced a line with her long crimson nail over the glass covering her immense rosewood desk. Perhaps Nine wasn’t a complete waste of resources. “You’d better be sure of what you’re talking about. If I go there to perform the ceremony, and that go-go dancer is not compliant, I’m going to eat yours and Nine’s heads dipped in white chocolate.”
“It will be an honor, milady.”
“Don’t get cheeky with me, Kovak.” She rapped her fingernails against the glass. “Why hasn’t Nine reported?”
“He’s otherwise occupied, your highness.”
“Even the best agents can be replaced, Kovak.” She wanted to bark but simply snapped at him.
“I’m absolutely aware of that option, exalted countess.”
“Enough. Next time I want to hear Nine’s voice, not yours.”
“Of course, your…”
Tau hung up the receiver. Just because they’d fucked, when she was a young and naïve girl and he was exploring his sexuality, that didn’t give the bastard the right to talk to her like they were equals. She rather deal with Nine, at least he was a sodding knight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“What are we supposed to do with just 3 condoms?” Angel blurted, after discovering the twelve-pack was severely incomplete.
“Lesser mortals have dealt with less and enjoyed the ride.” Malachi chuckled, shaking his head.
“That’s not the point. It’s the principle. If you give me a box that says twelve units, I’m expecting a dozen penetrations!”
Malachi took the offensive package and rattled it like a maraca. “The sounds of a good time.”
A loud snort was Angel’s only response. He was still wrapped in one of those fluffy towels they had been given after the truce. Malachi unwrapped his and walked to the bed to get the lube bottle, giving Angel ample time to appreciate the goodies.
They had done their fair share of foreplay, time to engage in penile penetrative acts, and Malachi knew which cock was going exactly where.
Back in front of a hazy-eyed Angel, Malachi dropped to his knees and unfolded the white barrier deterring him from relishing his prize. Angel was already semi-hard and let escape a throaty sound, as Malachi kissed the mushroom head of the perking cock.
His tongue swirled, and he sensed the tremor in Angel’s body. He opened his eyes to goose bumps on fairly hairless thighs. On their own volition, his hands mapped the solid terrain, the sweet expanse of creamy and yet rocky skin, hypnotized by the Devil’s horns that ended in a curly thatch of darkness. The tip of his nose tried the consistency of silky, freshly washed pubes, and this wicked tickle was Malachi’s undoing.
Angel clawed Malachi’s shoulders, seemingly enraptured by the throat closing around him, taking advantage of the natural, downward curve of his member. And Malachi used that fleeting moment of hesitation to grab steel glutes and transform Angel into a sudden piston, savoring the moving inches within him.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” came out strangled and breathless from the lips Malachi had been ravishing for hours before this devotional moment.
He didn’t have enough hands, eyes, ears or mouths to satisfy the fervent hunger ignited by Angel; the overwhelming force swallowing him, every time Malachi was lost in the textures of the man he was so willingly on his knees for.
The craving to offer everything Malachi was to Angel started to overrule his better judgment and the disturbing consequences his mission bore. He only had one path to follow, but, at this time, his journey was along Angel’s body and wherever Desire would care to lead them.
Multitasking came handy as Malachi continued the pleasure his mouth was giving Angel, and he reached the pack of condoms, drew one and opened it. The damn thing was transparent blue, nearly the same color of those big lakes on Angel’s face.
Almost against his will, he let go of the lengthy delight. Angel groaned and stared down at him.
“If we only have one shot at this, I want you to be the one inside me and take that memory with me. No matter what happens afterward, you made me yours.” Malachi rolled the condom by sheer tact since his vision was summarily occupied gauging all the changing emotions on the cherubic, chiseled features.
“I usually don’t…” Angel dithered.
“Please.” Malachi didn’t recognize the voice but understood the urge blooming inside him.
Angel caressed Malachi’s stubbly chin and nodded. “Anything you want.” He pulled Malachi to his feet and guided him to the bed, softly pushing him to lie on his back. “I need to see your eyes, so dark… so rich, I can lose myself in them.”
A low rumble, Angel’s deep voice fathered a thousand chills and infinite more goose bumps over Malachi’s body. Dizziness tried to stake her claim but Malachi fought, anchoring his focus on cherry lips that would soon master his own.
Hard like a spear, Angel’s cock shone enveloped in translucent latex, making Malachi’s mouth water; a beast recalling a fabulous meal.
While Angel slicked the weapon, Malachi found the courage to beg. “Don’t prep me. This must hurt. The pain will give me strength, if I have to go through torture again.”
“Stubborn ass,” Angel hissed, narrowing his eyes and aiming his sheathed head to Malachi’s hole.
And the sting brought bliss, inebriating him.
And bliss became unfathomable ecstasy, incendiary euphoria.
As he came, the Earth literally moved.
Angel knew this had been different, not just because he’d been the top, but for all the things he saw on Malachi’s eyes (when his weren’t rolled inside his head, that was).
Malachi dismounted him. “This is serious. Get dressed.” He started gathering clothes and throwing them in Angel’s direction. “Now!”
The shaking continued as Angel unsteadily figured out where to put legs and arms. The door to their cell got unhinged. Malachi grabbed his wrist. “Our opportunity to flee, c’mon.”
They ran through a corridor, so normal looking (except for the fact that the walls were shaking), it could have been anywhere, and nobody was in sight. Taking a turn, they found the goon they only knew as Glock running in their direction but looking the other way, a weapon in his hand. Malachi growled, “You didn’t,
motherfucker.” He punched Glock square on the face as soon as the man tried to see forward.
With a thud and a broken nose, Glock fell, and Malachi grabbed the weapon and patted the pockets, finding car keys and a fat wallet.
“Are we gonna look for the blond oaf?” Angel seriously wanted to punch that fucker too. It didn’t matter if the building was crumbling around them.
A big smile graced his cue-ball. “Not the moment for that, baby. Let’s survive this fucking earthquake, and you can have you vengeance later.”
Angel nodded and let Malachi lead the way. As long as he could get even someday, he’d run for his life now.
Outside, it was morning. To their left a paddock with 3 horses running around scared, neighing and snorting, and to their right a man under a tree (as if Angel had conjured the darn blond brute). “Shit, we need to help him.” He wanted the man suffering at his hands, not dying under a fallen trunk. He realized in that moment, he hadn’t picked really bad vibes from their jailer; the man was just annoying as fuck.
“NO.” Malachi pulled him on the opposite direction, toward the horses. “What if he has a weapon and shoots us?”
“B-but?” It didn’t feel right to leave the man like that; he seemed unconscious.
“Nobody dies before their time, Angel. Today’s not his day.” Malachi jumped the paddock and approached a horse. The ground had decided to stop shaking, so the horses were a little calmer. “Can you ride?”
“Hey, even hillbillies like me know their way around horses.” Angel swiftly mounted a black beauty and kicked, “Hyah!” They galloped to the other end of the paddock, and like well-trained creatures both horses jumped.
They maintained the same fleeting speed for at least half an hour. The bad thing about riding saddleless was the torturing of your balls and guiding the horse pulling his mane. Angel liked some hair pulling (at the right moment) but thirty minutes of that was too much even for an equine.
A cluster of trees invited them, the shadowy embrace welcomed since the sun had reached its zenith. “I don’t think we’re in America.” Angel commented, hoping he could materialize a cold gallon of water.
“Some people would give us a clue.” Malachi dismounted, Angel did likewise, and both horses sprinted away, neighing wildly as if stung by African Bees. Malachi sighed, “So much for transport.”
“I bet they didn’t like the hair pulling.” Angel tried to make light of their situation, in any case they were outside, which was a start.
“That’s why I shave my head.” Malachi waggled his eyebrows.
“You ass.” Angel was going to add a comment about big old screaming bottoms with shaved heads and decided against it. He expected Malachi to (at minimum) be versatile, if he remembered their pre coitus conversation correctly without all the horny mind-clogging. “If we are where I think we are, we should go east where probably any major city would be located.” Best to remain focused. “Shame we didn’t see the car for those keys.”
“Yeah, let me check the wallet.” Malachi found two gold cards and one platinum, a ton of hundred euro bills and a picture of Glock holding a baby, not old enough to discern if it was a boy or a girl though.
“That makes the idiot human.” Angel growled, the image of the blond Hulk under the tree hitched in his head.
“And yet not less of a motherfucker.” Malachi stared at Angel. “He’ll be fine, it was just a broken nose.”
“Throw a concussion and a shaking house falling over him and you have the whole picture.” Angel grumbled. It’s not like they shot the bastards, acts of God couldn’t be considered murder, right? “What did he do to you, apart from being a minion of that obnoxious Yellow Boulder? You punched him like it was personal.”
Malachi drew the gun from the small of his back. “This Beretta was a gift from my father on my seventeenth birthday, a few months before he died. That bitch shouldn’t have been running with it.”
“If he didn’t have it in hand, you wouldn’t have it now.”
An eyebrow arched, and Malachi looked as if Angel had just punched him on the kisser. In the sun and with birds chirping happily around them, thoughts of vengeance were starting to fade. Then again, that always happened to him when he was able to be in the light, darkness becoming just a dissolving memory.
Angel studied the terrain, rocky with no visible mountains, mostly randomly situated shrubs. They heard a bell tolling. “Sounds like a church.”
“It’s coming from that way. Let’s go.” Malachi pointed to their left, his features brightening after the mental shocker.
Barefoot and hungry (their breakfast had been several hours before the darn earthquake), they reached a hill with an ancient church on the top when their feet were ready to burst. “Do you think it’s proper to enter a sacred place all fucked up and sweaty?”
A cloudless blue sky melting into an even bluer ocean lay beyond the minute structure, leaving Angel mesmerized.
“In our circumstances, we don’t have another option. Besides, it appears the bells were for the end of the mass, not the beginning. The church is closed, and these tire and shoe marks indicated passive departure.”
“We were too far,” Angel huffed. Bad enough he’d never learned to be a tracker. The ground was appropriately dusty to have a clear view of footprints and wheels, but he couldn’t figure back from forward.
What appeared to be the front entrance had a big billboard to one side. Fortunately, it had information in both English and another language that, although was written with Latin characters had too many dashes, double consonants, and diacritical marks not to be a Latinization of an Arabic language. “Do you have an idea of what language would that be?”
“We’re either in Malta or Merhba. That’s Maltese.”
Malta was far from the continent, not good. Merhba on the other hand was an enclave in Sicily facing Malta; another principality (just a little bigger than Monaco) that was recently included into the Euro Zone. Although Sicily was an island too, if they could reach Messina, there was a ferry that could take them to the main land in less than half an hour. Angel had fantasized about backpacking through Europe, even before he discovered he wanted to be an archeologist that he knew many random facts like this by heart. What a fucked up time to be close to the core of his archeological dreams.
“And how do you know this?” Angel was a little miffed because he was the one supposed to know all about Europe, but it never crossed his mind to find out what written Maltese looked like.
“My maternal grandparents were Maltese. Now and then I try to keep up with the language.”
How convenient. Nothing until this moment had made Angel’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Perhaps their messed up situation had to do with Malachi’s heritage, but that still didn’t explain why Angel felt like a key piece more than an observant dragged into the melee. “I’d like to learn more about that later.” Angel grimaced.
“Of course. I’ll tell you all about my summers in Malta.” Malachi offered with a smile, which didn’t ease Angel’s wariness.
Since they didn’t know what day of the week it was, they couldn’t calculate if another mass was imminent. They walked toward the edge of the cliff to check if there was an office or something. This was an old place, probably had some tourist attraction to it.
Close to another (more battered-looking) door they found an inscription:
NON GODE L'IMMUNITA' ECCLESIASTICA
Angel did know the meaning of the sign. “Well, isn’t this nice?”
Malachi took Angel’s hand and squeezed it. “What is it?”
“We’d have been screwed even in medieval times. You know how churches were sanctuaries where the authorities couldn’t touch you?”
Malachi nodded. “Sure, why?”
“This one didn’t have that.”
Shaking his head Malachi, chuckled. “Should we take it as a bad omen?”
“I don’t believe in such shit. Evil is in the heart of men. Let’s do some b
reaking and entering. They must have a phone or a computer in here.”
“You going to B&E a church?”
Angel was positive karma existed, but bad omens, nah. Then every single thing in the news would be a bad omen, because the world was going to Hell in a hand basket.
Taking the weapon from Malachi, Angel broke a window panel. “Sure. They’re supposed to help those in need.”
CHAPTER NINE
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Alive & Kickin’
Date: Undisclosed
I know you’ve been worried sick, but I’m fine and doing my best to be home quickly. No need to put me on a milk carton yet. :)
I’m with Malachi, but it isn’t what you think.
The less you know the better off you are.
I’ll get in touch again as soon as possible
Hugs
Angel.
“Did you locate the origin of this email?”
“Yes, Sir.” His assistant hurried to inform, “Our Lady of the Chalice Church in Xott, Merbha.”
Hugo looked at Snyder and nodded; the man left the control room instantly. “I want face recognition planted on every street light, parking lot, and public camera available in that principality and all over Sicily.”
“Right away, sir.”
They could have a contingent prepared in twenty minutes, and they would be in Merbha’s soil in less than two hours. With a fucking gate so close in Malta, there was no room for error this time.
“As soon as we’re in the air, I want fifteen minute updates, even if there’s nothing new to report. Did I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir. I already have all our satellites engaged. If they’re moving, we’ll get them.”
Picking up his communicator, Hugo tapped with his finger on the earpiece and arched an eyebrow, eyeing his assistant. “Aaron, after this is over, I’ll send you and your husband to Hawaii. Sorry I fucked up your honeymoon. You know I couldn’t do this without you.”
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