Poor Tommy. I wondered if I should take him somewhere and apologize. Morgan's fierce rejection had stopped him in his
tracks. He trembled a foot away, unable to move. I felt horrible. Morgan obviously knew him and how sensitive he was.
Why would she be so casually cruel?
I couldn't see him as a stalker or a nuisance. He didn't appear to have any backbone at all. He was tall and extremely well built - shockingly so for his demeanor. With his physical appearance I would have assumed he would have a major ego. Maybe his leathers had built in muscles like batman's outfit? Or maybe he wore high heeled boots and . . . I jerked my head back up so quickly my jaw snapped together.
Tommy had a major boner.
Morgan snickered.
Tommy shifted his large frame in my direction. "May I serve you, Mistress?"
"Uh . . ." I'd never felt so out of my league with the mortals.
"Leave us." Morgan leaned forward to growl in his face. Tommy moaned. I blushed.
I needed to get out more. There were obviously some extremely weird – and highly kinky – places that I knew nothing about.
"You can stop blushing. He's gone."
"You and Tommy . . ." I trailed off, uncertain how to finish my question.
Morgan grinned. "Me and Tommy."
I honestly couldn't decide if I was shocked or envious. Like I've said, I don't have a problem with kinky sex, I just don't have that much experience with it.
I watched Tommy walk away. I really should get out more. It looked like there might be more than one answer to my cursed love life. This bar might be a couple of towns over, but it was still within driving range. A little over an hour's drive and I could have a tasty little Sub worshipping my . . . uh, feet. Or fifteen minutes by broom.
"The Prince liked Tommy, but he won't have any answers for us." Morgan pointed a red-tipped nail to a spot about twenty feet away. "That's the guy we want."
"I thought the Prince was straight." I stumbled in my heels. Morgan caught my arm.
"That line blurs after a few centuries." She tugged me along towards a big guy with his arms around two different women. "Or decades."
"Oh." It made sense I guess. After a hundred years one could get tired, or bored, of the same old, same old.
The demon flashed through my mind. I had an itchy feeling that several hundred years could pass and I would still be addicted.
"Petey." Morgan raised her voice to be heard over the crowd and music.
The Whipping Post had a lot in common with Got Fangs?. Both bars catered towards an exclusive clientele. Both were decorated in dark colors - although that appeared to be more for helping to hide some of the things taking place in The Whipping Post than for a dramatic flair.
A slap rang out in the shadows barely ten feet away.
And both bars liked loud music.
I desperately ignored the slapping and moaning and focused intently on the okay rendition of "Ring of Fire". No one could compare to Mr. Cash, but these guys were all right.
Petey lifted one hand from the brunette's large breast and waved.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Mistress Morgan." He clutched the large breast again and gave it a squeeze. The brunette groaned. "Who's your friend?"
Petey's black eyes looked me up and down, taking my measure. I thrust my shoulders back. I wore red leather and was a serious Witch Detective - and current poser of a dominatrix. Don't fuck with me.
Apparently it worked. Petey gave me a slow nod.
"This is Mistress Kate." Morgan squeezed my shoulder. I nodded in my best regal-bitch-in-leather manner.
"We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions, Petey." Morgan nodded at Petey's arm adornments. "About Xavier."
Petey straightened. He let go of the women, gave them a gentle push towards the bar with a whispered order and turned his full attention back to us.
"Xavier, huh?" Petey directed his question towards Morgan. "That's a pretty damn big nest, Mistress Morgan."
I cleared my throat. Petey locked eyeballs with me. I didn't like it, then again I hadn't liked much of my life the past few days either.
"Actually, I'm the one with the questions." I dug deep into my acting background. Somewhere, someone must have acted the part because Petey didn't bat an eye.
Dominatrix Mistress Kate at your service.
"I'm thinking of adding Xavier to my," I paused, "Entourage." Morgan wiggled beside me, but didn't say anything. "I do thorough background checks on all my . . ." I stalled. My brain went blank.
"Pets," Morgan supplied.
Who knew my best undead friend would turn out to be such a help with dominatrix issues?
I smiled, fingering the handle of my bullwhip. "Can you help me?" I leaned forward slightly as if in anticipation of Petey's response, my breasts bounced gently and Petey's eyes zeroed in.
I may have to consider wearing leather for all my important interviews.
Another slap and moan rang out in the dark. I controlled the urge to flinch. Petey's eyes remained locked on my upper torso. I sincerely hoped he was considering my question and not simply indulging in idle fantasies.
"Mistress Kate is very discreet," Morgan stated. "I will vouch for her."
At that, Petey raised his gaze. "Let's sit at my table. We can talk there." He motioned us forward to a large unoccupied table. As crowded as The Whipping Post was, I figured this really was his table. Trust Morgan to know the best and most powerful Dom in the S&M bar.
We sat - Morgan and Petey plunked down, while I wiggled and squirmed and prayed and generally held my breath. It worked.
Petey flicked a finger at a waitress. She wore a pale, pink, sheer baby doll top over a pair of jeweled pasties that barely covered her nipples. Considering how large the jewels were, I was surprised the tape actually held.
"How may I serve you?"
Petey ordered a Rum and Coke, I requested a beer, and Morgan asked for a Gin and Tonic. Morgan ordering a drink shocked me more than the waitress' outfit.
We'd never gone to a fully human bar together. Got Fangs? suited us as a perfect hang out, as well as allowing Morgan to simply be Morgan.
Every once in a while, it strikes me that I'm not the only one who has a hard time fitting in.
We listened as the band start up "A Boy Named Sue" while we waited for our drinks. I scoped out the scene a bit more. To say that I was completely out of my element would be a massive understatement. I had no concept of the, ah – culture - here at all.
After my explanation and the brief recap of Ivan's visit, Morgan had agreed with me. It's one thing to be advised that you are the only one on a suspicious suspects lists and quite another to have your best friend confirm it. That raised my "Oh Shit" factor several notches.
Morgan doesn't believe in wasting any time either, hence the leather outfit and our current location. Prince Xavier of the United States Vampires had been a regular member of The Whipping Post for the past several months.
The waitress returned with our drinks. She leaned forward to set them on the table and I held my breath. No way could those pasties actually stay on . . . unless they were screwed on.
OMG.
Ouch. I flinched on her behalf. She noticed and gave me a small wink before sauntering off to another table. I'm a cursed witch who has one foot in two different communities. Who am I to judge?
"What would you like to know about Xavier?" Petey watched me over the rim of his drink.
"As much as you are willing to tell me."
Petey frowned. "If it was me, I wouldn't bother with Xavier." He flicked his hand towards the large crowd. "There are plenty of better Subs."
I nodded, sage and tough Dom that I pretended to be. "I'm still interested in Xavier."
The chair creaked alarmingly as Petey leaned back. "Xavier is trouble. He makes enemies faster than any other Sub that I've seen." He shook his head in disgust. "Plus he tops from below."
I hadn't a clue as to what that meant,
but given Petey's expression it was not a good thing in a submissive. I nodded, stopped on the down-tilt and tried a frown instead. I began to see the value in researching a role first.
"I know of at least five Subs that refuse to have anything to do with him and most of the Doms here won't either. He's petty, cruel and likes to cause trouble." His chair clattered as he rocked forward to lean his elbows on the table. "Plus, I think he uses."
"Drugs?" If so, it could explain his crazy plan that led to his true death.
Petey nodded. "I think he used them on the other Subs. And even a few of the Doms. That's why they can't stand him. Most of them don't remember the time they spent with him."
13. My List Of Suspects.
"I hate him. If I found him alone in a dark alley, I'd gut him. I'd love to put a giant hole in his chest."
Tommy went straight to the top of my list. Unfortunately, he was not alone there. Almost every other Dom or Sub that I had questioned said basically the same thing.
Basically.
Intentional or not, substitute a tree branch for a knife and Tommy had described the Prince's murder scene. Tommy certainly had the build to be able to shove a branch through a vamp's chest. It wouldn't have mattered that he hadn't known Xavier had been a vampire. A hole in the chest will kill a human as well.
Morgan had been correct in that Tommy wouldn't be much help in providing information on Xavier. Tommy didn't remember anything at all from his three encounters with the Prince. That appeared to be the problem.
"Every time I was in a scene with him, I wouldn't remember anything." He pouted. "Not a thing. What's the point if you can't remember?"
"Mmmhmm." Non-committal was the best I could do.
"Then Xavier would lord it over me. He'd describe the scene and how much he'd enjoyed it and," his voice dropped, "How awful I was."
Tommy took a large sip of water.
"Every time I see him, he brings it up."
As far as I could tell, Prince Xavier had been applying mind control on most of the members at The Whipping Post, using them as unwilling beverage dispensers and then torturing them afterwards simply because he could.
It amazed me someone hadn't done him in sooner.
"I hate him."
I was beginning to hate him myself. I hadn't liked the Prince from the start and my current predicament did not lend fond feelings towards him either, but I also hadn't known that much about the Prince.
The more I learned, the more I began to think he got what he deserved.
I'm not a bad person. I think I'm a pretty good witch, actually. On the other hand I know exactly what it's like to be bullied, to have your peers jeer and taunt you for things that you can't control. I know how that can nibble away at your self-esteem.
"Thanks Tommy, you can go now." Morgan reached up to pat him on his shoulder.
"Yes, Mistress." Tommy bowed before he walked away.
I swiveled to face Morgan on my barstool. Her narrowed green eyes reminded me of a cat as it watched a mouse escape.
"Ah, sorry about Tommy." I didn't have any proof yet, although we both knew he had just moved ahead of everyone else. He'd referred to the Prince in the present tense, but that could be a really clever ploy on his behalf.
Morgan laughed. "I'm not. I like blood-thirsty."
Good point.
Besides, I still had to find actual solid evidence first. I made a mental note to check my Spell Book for clue spells. I'd never heard of any, but it could have been a subject they'd covered in junior year at the Witch Academy. Witches have branched out into all sorts of fields during the last hundred years. Not much call for love spells and hexes these days.
The small sexy taunt of skin at my back began to itch.
I set my drink down on the counter, braced myself and turned around. Ash stood several feet behind me, just outside a grouping of tables and chairs. He wore another sleeveless black leather vest with matching black leather pants that outlined his heavily muscled thighs and ended in thick biker boots.
I dragged my gaze up and over that impressive chest, determined to face him this time.
His amber eyes flared the instant they met mine, as if he'd been waiting for just this moment. My stomach knotted. My skin began to tingle as if waking up for the first time. My heart thudded heavily.
Pure giddy excitement mingled with spine-tingling danger and I knew just how a small, vulnerable bunny felt the moment it spied the predatory gaze peering through the woods.
No doubt about it, Ash was stalking me.
I didn't get a creepy, psycho, murderous vibe from him. No, the look in his eyes was pure male heat and interest.
Morgan turned around beside me and I waited to watch his eyes wander over to her. His gaze remained fixed on me. I honestly didn't think he even noticed Morgan.
My heart made a hard flip-flop.
Thick, dark hair curled around his neck, peeking out from under the leather scarf he had tied over his head. Rough and tough trouble, he looked like he belonged in this bar.
The sturdy bandana cut across his forehead, just above his dark eyebrows. It served to emphasize the scars around the left side of his face. They branched out around his eye, over his upper cheekbone and down the edge of his face along his neck. A few of them were thick and raised.
Ash had suffered greatly at one time.
The thicker the scar, the deeper the wound and considering how distinct and noticeable his were, I figured he had not received medical attention right away.
I had that crazy urge to grab my wand again.
Stupid really. The scars were old, that fight had taken place a very long time ago and he didn't appear discomforted by them. I'd easily bet Ash had exacted his revenge as well.
And still my fingers twitched.
The rest of his skin had that rugged, slightly weathered look that people get when they are exposed to the outdoors on a lengthy basis. His skin was a dark shade of olive. He hadn't spent a lot of time outside the demon realm.
That just made me more suspicious of why he was here now.
High cheekbones, a strong nose and firm lips made up the rest of his face. Taken one by one, he had strong features. Put them all together and he was all sexy male demon.
He stalked towards me, determination heavy in each step. Every one of my wicked dreams rose to the surface, the leather and atmosphere didn't help.
"Hello Kate."
I tilted my head back to maintain eye contact.
"Ash." I quirked an eyebrow at him. "What a surprise to see you here." My words came out in a controlled tone. None of my disco dancing hormones boogied their way into my voice. I hadn't planned on this added benefit from my supplemental herbs. Considering the way my life was going these days, maybe I should just add the herbs in the morning along with my daily vitamin.
I leaned back slightly to ease the angle of my neck, Ash's gaze zeroed in on my chest. Something hot and possessive went through his dark amber eyes.
"That's a different look for you."
My back went up at the note of censure. He had no rights over me.
I thrust my chest out, gave a toss of my head. "Yes, it is." I'd fooled the Doms tonight. I could handle one demon.
Ash stepped into my space, not just by a little bit either. His thigh slid right between mine, forcing my legs to part. Before I knew what he was about, Ash stood at the edge of my stool, my legs spread wide, our thighs pressed together, with one of his hands at the base of my spine and the other hot against the vee at the back of my bustier. His fingers found their way underneath that opening.
"I didn't say I didn't like it." His deep voice shivered its way down my spine. His fingers massaged my back and I knew he felt the tremble that went through me.
"You seem to have a way of finding Kate." Morgan's words came over my shoulder. "Did you plant a bug?"
I tensed. Crap, I was supposed to be impersonating a dominatrix tonight. Plus, it didn't look good for a Witch Detective to be literally w
rapped around a Suspicious Demon.
I planned to wiggle my way loose. Ash had other plans, and might tends to win. He tightened his grip the moment I shifted, tugging just enough so we wound up pressed even closer together. The large, hard bulge at the front of his pants met the spot between my thighs.
I must admit I didn't try very hard to get away.
"Her scent is unique."
I like my brown sugar lotion too, but I don't think it's unique. For twelve dollars anyone could get it at Bath and Body. A little less with a coupon.
"You saying she stinks Demon?"
Whoa. I needed to let my legs drop and come back to reality. He packed a major punch, but something more was going on. Morgan didn't usually attack first.
I squirmed on the stool, which rubbed us together. I swallowed a moan. Bad move. Ash responded by cupping my ass and letting me know his body fully appreciated my wiggling.
"No. I'm saying I can track her anywhere."
That sounded suspiciously like a threat.
I placed my hands on his leather vest and shoved. Even through the thick material I could feel the heat of his skin and the heaviness of his muscles.
"Excuse me, center of conversation here." I tilted my head to include both of them in my jibe.
Fat lot of good it did me.
Possibly tired of my constant moving, Ash thrust his hand under my butt, lifted me up off the stool and sat down. He lowered me so I ended up sitting in nearly the same position, except my legs were now wrapped around his waist, and instead of the cushy bar stool, I had a steel-like, very large lump under my ass.
I was too shocked to be embarrassed.
"And you just can't resist tracking her anywhere she goes, is that it?"
Ash lifted the hand he'd used to maneuver me up to my hair. He gathered a large fistful of my curls.
"No, I can't." He inhaled deeply, his muscles tensed under my hand. "Sweet and soft." He murmured. His lips hovered over my ear.
Apparently I was superfluous to their conversation.
While most of me didn't mind being the center of Ash's heated attention in the least bit, I did mind being the topic of their discussion.
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