Her stomach twisted. She forced herself to soften her body and lean against him. “No, please.”
A victorious smirk transformed his features. “Repeat it. In English.”
“Nothing.”
His thumb brushed over the nape of her neck. “Almost perfect. It’s ‘na-thing’, not ‘na-ding’. Now, try again, and this time, tell me the truth.”
Holding his gaze, she swallowed away the dryness in her mouth. “It was a difficult session, that’s all.”
“Is that why you told them to go?”
“Yes.”
His fingers dug painfully into her cheeks. “The one with the eye patch, he wanted you.”
“They all do,” she said as nonchalantly as her nerves allowed. “It’s the way you dress me like you do and make me stand next to you. They think I have some kind of power in the organization, and power is a strong aphrodisiac.”
“Do you like him?” His hand moved between her legs, cupping her sex roughly. “Did he make you wet?”
The earth should open and swallow her. She pretended the security guards weren’t watching. “I don’t like him.”
“If I take off your pants, will your cunt agree, or will it be wet?”
“He doesn’t matter. Anyway, him and his friend will be dead soon.”
At that, some of his jealousy dissipated. “Is that what you saw?”
“Yes.”
Doumar had long since stopped questioning her predictions. It wasn’t necessary. They always came true. She never lied to him about what she saw, and he’d come to trust her. His trust was a trump card she held onto. One day, when the opportunity arose, she’d cash in that card.
“I hope you did as you were told,” he said. “Godfrey isn’t a forgiving man.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll be back. I made sure of it.”
His grip slackened. She used the moment to escape his touch, picking up the fallen chair as an excuse, but Doumar’s large hand circled around her upper arm with painful pressure.
“You’re mine.” He towered over her, a blond Viking with eyes as hard as gray marble. “Without me, you’re a worthless slut. Nothing.” His lips turned up in a calculating smile. “Or do you disagree?”
“No.”
He jerked her against him. “Say it.”
“I’m nothing.”
He gave a satisfied nod. “You need to rest. Go home, baby.”
~ * ~
The base from which Cain Jones operated this mission was a narrow house not far from the club. Cain and the rest of the team waited when Bono and Joss arrived.
“She’s authentic,” Joss said with a note of regret, taking a seat in the lounge.
Cain leaned on the mantelpiece, an espresso in one hand. “Is, and not was?”
“You’re sure?” Maya leaned her elbows on her knees. “She’s definitely a palm reader?”
“That doesn’t mean she’s a chiromancist,” Bono said.
Cain afforded him a fleeting look before diverting his attention back to Joss. “If she’s the real thing, why isn’t she dead?”
“It’s something she saw when she read our palms, something we need to consider before slitting her throat.”
Clelia moved to the edge of her seat. “Why doesn’t this sound good?”
“I think she saw Godfrey.”
“What did she say?” Lann asked.
“That he’s coming for us.”
“That’s good,” Sean said. “Then we can finally catch the bastard.”
“If it’s so good,” Ivan said, “then why aren’t you happy about it, Joss?”
Joss looked at the expectant faces waiting for his answer. “She said we’re all going to die.”
“This changes everything,” Cain mused. He straightened and shoved a hand into his pocket. “You did the right thing, Josselin. If she’s a lead to Godfrey, we need to question her and find out what we can.”
“How?” Lann asked. “Joss can hardly walk back in there for a cup of tea, and sending one of us for an undercover palm reading will start looking suspicious. She’ll put two and two together, if she hasn’t already. If she can read the future, chances are good she’ll see us for who we are.”
“We can kidnap her,” Maya offered, “like we did with Clelia.”
“No.” Cain left his empty cup on the coffee table. “We’ll have the whole Dutch underworld descend on us like vampires. We need to do it without attracting attention.”
Sara looked at Ivan. “Why don’t you manipulate her spirit? You can make her do whatever we need.”
“Manipulating her isn’t going to tell us what we want to hear,” Ivan replied. “I can make her talk, but she can only tell what she knows. There may be more going on behind the scenes, and knowing only half the truth makes us more vulnerable than knowing nothing.”
“He’s right.” Cain took a seat on the sofa. “We need a different strategy.”
“I think I know a way,” Joss said, meeting Bono’s eyes.
From the way his boss stared at him, he got a feeling it had something to do with him.
“Go on,” Cain said.
“She took a liking to Bono.”
No way. He knew where this was going, and it wasn’t a game he was prepared to play. “Forget it. I won’t do it.”
Joss grinned. “I haven’t said anything, yet.”
“You don’t need to.” Bono got to his feet. “That shmuck expression on your face says it all.”
“She gave you her card.”
He dragged a hand over his clean-shaven head. “I don’t need another palm reading.”
“I don’t think her intention was to give you a palm reading.”
Everyone stared at him with new interest. “I fly your asses around, and that’s where it ends.”
“You were there, Bono,” Sean said. “Did she not say we were going to die?”
He turned away. “The answer is no.”
“Bono.” Cain said his name with enough authority to make him look back at the commander. “Who sponsored the weapons for the civil war that crippled your country? Who took over the African communication networks with promises of new schools and universities, schools that spread propaganda and recruited boys to fight a men’s war?”
“Don’t lecture me on Godfrey’s sins. Nobody knows the consequences of that evil man’s actions better than I do.”
“This will be for your country.”
“You know nothing about my country, American.”
“I do,” Joss said. “We colonized Senegal, captured the country like a wild animal, made it an orphan, and then released it back into the wild after killing its instinct to fend for itself. That’s why your leaders were so easy for Godfrey to manipulate. If not for the team, do it for your country.”
“I’m not doing this for my fucking country or for anything. I’m a pilot, not an assassin.”
“I’m not asking you to kill her,” Cain said. “I’m asking you for a couple of hours of your life. Find out what you can and go back to your flying. You won’t need to carry anyone’s blood on your hands.”
Maya chuckled. “Come on, Bono. You can’t be that naïve. Working for Joss, you’re covered in blood.”
“Maya,” Cain said with a warning in his voice.
Joss held his eyes. “We have children. I’d like for them to grow up with parents.”
“Damn you, Joss.” Joss knew mentioning the kids would get to him. He loved those kids like they were his own. He wiped a hand over his jaw and started pacing the room. “I don’t want to be the reason for her to get hurt.”
“You won’t be,” Cain said flatly. “That card was dealt when she used her art to work for our enemy.”
He hung his head. “Only once.” He slowly lifted his gaze back to Cain. “I’ll see her one more time and then I’m done.”
Cain pushed a button on his wrist pad that pulled up a 3D monitor. “Let’s get to work. Bono, go get ready. You have a date tonight.”
~ * ~<
br />
There wasn’t a telephone number on the card, only an address. Not sure of what he’d find, Bono located the street and stopped in front of a trailer park. Judging from the small patches of flower and vegetable gardens, most people resided here permanently. After asking around, he was directed to an old-fashioned type caravan that had seen better days. The door opened before he could knock. Sky leaned in the frame, wearing an oversized sweater and leggings. Her feet were clad in socks and her hair braided down the sides of her face. The braids made her look younger than the twenty-five years her file stated.
“Come in.” Not waiting for a response, she moved back inside.
Joss had fitted him with a wrist pad, in case he needed backup. To avoid suspicion should he be searched, they’d decided he wouldn’t wear the comms earpiece or a wire. His only weapons were his hands. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed, uttering a silent sigh of relief when no one else waited inside.
“Welcome to my home.” She held out her arms and turned in a circle.
The interior was decorated much like her reading room at the sex club with colorful drapes, gold tinsel, and a velvet bedspread. There was a kitchenette with a small table in one corner and a dressing table with an ornate mirror.
She regarded him from under her golden lashes. “You seem surprised.”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“Your boyfriend seems possessive. I didn’t take him for the type who’d let you camp out on your own.”
“Reading palms aren’t easy. I sometimes need space.”
“Where does he live?”
“In a house.”
“Do you live there, too?”
“You’re asking awfully prying questions.”
“I’m only trying to understand the situation.”
“You mean you’re trying to figure out how our relationship works, if I’m free to fuck other men, like you, for example.”
He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Sky, why am I here?”
“Because you want to be or you wouldn’t have come.”
“All right.” He gave her a patient smile. “Why did you give me your card?”
“To let you finish what you started at the club.”
“What may that be?”
She pulled her sweater over her head, revealing a pink, lacy bra with ribbons and an underwire that pushed her breasts high.
The sight was mesmerizing, no question about that. Her skin was smooth like white chocolate and her curves were just right. Her breasts were small but firm, her stomach flat, and her muscles toned.
When she reached for the clasp of the bra behind her back, he caught her arm. “You don’t have to do that.”
Something keen to rejection flashed in her eyes. “You don’t want me?”
“Not unless you want me more, and not when you’re with someone else.”
She gave him a frown. “You’re not the norm, are you?”
“It depends on what your norm is.” He picked up the sweater, lifted her arms, and helped her fit the garment back on.
“If you’re not here for sex,” she said, “what do you want?”
“Shall we go out? I haven’t done much sightseeing.”
She studied him for a moment as if she couldn’t make up her mind and then sat down to pull on her trainers. “What do you want to see?”
“Surprise me.”
They walked a few blocks and stopped in front of a small building with a zoology sign.
“This is my favorite,” she said, taking his hand and leading him inside.
They were the only visitors. The interior consisted of a single room, the size of a small warehouse, lined with shelves. The exhibits were stuffed animals and reptiles in jars. He watched as she walked through the rows, stopping from time to time to study one of the poor dead creatures. It was damn depressing.
“Why do you come here?” he asked.
Her voice carried under the acoustic ceiling. “To be reminded of the living. To give the dead the respect they deserve.”
“I’ll be honest, this is not what I expected.”
“What did you expect? Windmills and tulips?”
“Cheese and beer.”
“That can be arranged.” She shot him a smile. “Come.”
At the Heineken museum, she made him pay the entrance fee and go through the whole damn boring tour alone. At the end of it, he was happy to find her waiting at the high tables in the tasting area.
“You deserve a hiding,” he teased. “This was torture.”
“Don’t all men love beer?”
“Not the scientific process of making it.” He popped a piece of cheese into her mouth. “You’re a terrible guide.”
“Now that you’ve had your fill of tourism, can we go home and fuck?”
He cupped her cheek. “No.”
“Why do you keep on rejecting me? I know you want to.”
“If I take you home, beautiful, it will be to make love. Besides, I already told you, I won’t touch what belongs to another man.”
She snorted and walked to the exit. When he followed, she put her arm through his and escorted him back into the street. “You’re from Senegal.”
“Did your homework?”
“The French gave you away.”
“I didn’t speak French when we met.”
“You have an accent. The way you roll your r’s is definitely African French.” She looked him up and down. “Then there’s your strong nose and high cheekbones.”
“Are you complimenting me?”
“I don’t have to. You know you’re pretty.”
“Pretty?” he said with mock offense. “Is that how you’d describe a man?”
“You know what I mean. What happened to your eye?”
He scratched his head. “You’re very direct, aren’t you?”
“Life is too short to take the long way around questions if you really want the answers.”
“A cynic, too.”
“In my profession, can you be anything else?”
“What is your profession?”
“Do you want to know if I’m a whore?”
“I was referring to that thing you did back there at the club.”
“I’m a fortune teller.”
“Is that how you make your living?”
“Yes.”
“Doumar?”
“Doumar is Doumar.”
“How does it work between you?”
“You heard him. I’m property.”
“Yeah, I heard. I’m asking what it means.”
“It means he’s working tonight, and I’m home alone.”
“Sky, stop. Why are you doing this?”
She halted and turned to him. “Because I’m lonely, and I was hoping you’d take care of that for me, just for one night.”
“I’ll do anything for you, but not that.”
“I know you’re a player.” She gave him her back and continued on her way.
“I appreciate women, but I don’t take my relationships lightly.”
“Have you had many?”
“None.”
She paused again. “Then you can’t speak from experience.”
“No, I can’t, but I’m speaking from my heart.”
Taking his arm, she pulled him toward a French fries stand. “You’re a romantic.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
After ordering two fries with mayonnaise, she handed him one. “Dinner’s on me.”
“That’s against my code of conduct,” he said, taking out his wallet.
She gave him another one of her half-smiles, studying him while he waited for his change.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re very handsome.”
“That’s an improvement on being pretty.”
She touched the diamond stud in his ear. “Why the piercing?”
&nb
sp; “Why not?”
“I like it.”
“Thanks for the vote of approval.”
“Let’s take a seat over there.” She led him to a bench facing the canal.
They ate in silence, and when she was done, she turned to him, pulling her knees up to her chin. “Where are you staying?”
“Not far.”
“Hotel?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to tell me?”
“No.”
A wounded look invaded her eyes. “I see. You have a girlfriend waiting for you.”
“Nope.”
“Wife?” she asked quietly.
“Boss.”
“The French guy from the club? Joss, right?”
“Right.”
“Your address is confidential?”
“Joss is a private person.”
“What are you doing in Amsterdam?”
“Joss is here on business. I’m flying him around.”
“Wow, private plane and pilot. I knew the guy was loaded, but not like that.”
“He’s got means.”
“What business?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
She tilted her head, regarding him with a downward pull to her beautiful lips. “I guess we all have our secrets.”
“Do you?”
She turned away from him to face the water. “Who doesn’t?”
“Sky?”
“Mm?”
“Look at me, please.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “What?”
“What did you see in our future?”
“I already told you.”
“Why do I have a feeling there’s more?”
“Everyone thinks there should be more, especially if they don’t like the prediction.”
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“See the future?”
“Some people are good at ballet or baseball. I’m good at this.” She got to her feet. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”
He dumped their garbage in the trashcan and followed. “How did you meet Doumar?”
“It was a long time ago, a story not worth telling.”
“Are you happy with him?”
She stopped to look at him, her lips slightly apart. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Her mouth opened wider, but instead of speaking, she pursed her lips together and gave him a smile. “What a curious creature you are.”
Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 8) Page 2