Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 8)

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Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 8) Page 11

by Charmaine Pauls


  She had to have been exhausted, because it didn’t take her long to drift off. When her breathing fanned evenly over his face, he gave in to the pull of sleep. A man had to stock up on rest while he could. One never knew when trouble would strike.

  ~ * ~

  It was still early when Sky lifted Bono’s arm and wiggled out from under him. She scribbled the number of the phone Godfrey had given her on a hotel notepad and left the paper on her pillow. Grabbing her boots, she left the room quietly and paused in the hallway to fit them. There wasn’t time to go home. She got into the first taxi parked in front of the hotel and gave the driver the address of the club, her gut twisting in fear for Doumar’s reaction. The warmth of Bono’s arms was comforting, but her sleep had been fitful, plagued with worry over Niels.

  At the club, a security guard took care of her taxi fare while she asked the doorman about Doumar’s whereabouts. The man informed her Doumar had been in last night, but had left in the early morning hours to catch some sleep. Sick with nerves, she had a warm shower and dressed in the short latex dress and ripped stockings Doumar had set out the night before, and then she took her place at the fortune-telling table and started her work for the day.

  Doumar arrived in the middle of her third session. He put his head around the door and said to her client in Dutch, “Take a hike. Your time’s up.”

  The pudgy man gave Doumar a perplexed look. “We’re not finished.”

  “I say you are.” Doumar pulled a gun from his waistband. “Get the hell out, or do I need to shoot you?”

  The man jumped to his feet. “I’m out.” He didn’t give her or Doumar a second glance before rushing through the door.

  Once they were alone, Doumar kicked the door shut. Sky swallowed. With a pasty complexion and unkempt hair, he looked like death warmed up. She’d never seen him with anything but a perfect hairdo. As he closed the distance between them, she kept her eyes on the handgun he spun by the trigger guard.

  Stopping on the opposite side of the table, he leaned over and kissed her hard. “Aren’t you going to say good morning?”

  “Morning,” she whispered, her heart beating in her throat.

  He regarded her like a snake watching a mouse, all the while toying with the gun. “Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

  It was a trick question. There was only one answer, and it was a bad answer. Experience had taught her she’d be punished for his pain.

  At her silence, he pounded his fist on the table. “I’m bleeding from my asshole, thank you very much for asking. Do you even care, slut?”

  She jumped at the outburst. “I’m sorry.”

  His face contorted with a snarl. “You better convince me. How about we do it here on this table, with you on your back?”

  She clenched her jaw. Anything but that. He’d promised after Niels he’d never force her again. She’d rather take the beating.

  “Why aren’t you naked, yet?” he asked. “You have a lot of pleasing to do, telling me how sorry you are that you don’t give a damn about your owner getting raped, you lousy piece of shit slave.”

  She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “No one can feel more empathy than me. Don’t forget, I know exactly what you went through.”

  His hand holding the gun shook. “Have I allowed anyone other than me to touch you? Have I given you to five guys, all at the same time?” His voice raised in volume until it reached a crescendo. “Have I ever made you bleed when I fucked you?”

  Her insides trembled, and her body shivered, both in fear for the present and in memory of what he’d put her through. “No, but you fucked me several times every day for one whole year, even when I begged you not to.”

  “I waited until you were goddamn eighteen! I could’ve taken you when I bought you at sixteen, but I waited.” He turned in a circle, his hands on his head. “I waited.” He stopped to look at her again. “If you weren’t so fucking frigid you could’ve enjoyed it. I did my best with you. I really tried.”

  Of all the sins he’d committed against her, his pretense to care was the worst. He’d made her suffer, and he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

  She pushed back the chair and got to her feet. “Don’t make out like you ever cared about me or my pleasure. You got off on hurting me, physically and mentally. You laughed when I cried while you fucked me. When I was going out of my mind, begging you to let me out of my prison, just for one hour, you spat in my face. You made me pregnant against my will to tie me to you. Fucking me was a means to a cruel, cruel end, so don’t turn it around and make it into something it’s never been.”

  “It could’ve been more. I still want you, Sky. Do you know why I stopped fucking you? It was the way you looked at the ceiling instead of at me when I was inside you.” He beat his chest with a fist. “Do you know what that did to me? Do you think I didn’t want to give you your freedom? Do you think I enjoyed locking you up in a cage for two years?” He waved the gun in the air. “All you had to do was give in!”

  “You raped me. There was nothing to give in to.”

  In a flash, he was on her side of the table, grabbing her hair in a fist and pushing the barrel of the gun against her temple. He put his face in hers, dribble splattering over her as he spoke. “I bet your black knight didn’t have to rape you. Did you open your legs for Mr. Black? Did he have to ask nicely, or did you beg for his cock?”

  “Stop it.” She tried to move, but he only tightened his hold. “We didn’t sleep together.”

  “Don’t lie to me, whore! I know he saw you naked. Did you send him? Was it your idea? You think you can scare me? Maybe we should cancel all Friday visits until you’ve learned your place again.”

  Her heart squeezed at the threat. “Please, no. He saw my bruises when I took a bath. I didn’t tell him anything, I swear. I asked him not to come here.”

  “A bath, eh? Where did you go?”

  “He took me to a hotel.”

  He jerked on her hair. “You want me to believe nothing happens in hotels?”

  “I swear. He’s not like that.” She cried out when he pulled harder. “I don’t want this either.” God knew, she didn’t want to lie or deceive Bono. “We don’t have a choice. Godfrey will kill us, Dou.”

  At that, his hold slackened. He let go of her with a shove. “We’re meeting him tonight after work. Be ready at eight.” He licked his lips. “When this is over, I’ll kill that black bastard myself. I’m going to do it in front of you, nice and slow, and I’m going to enjoy every minute.”

  ~ * ~

  Sky was gone when Bono woke. He cursed. She should’ve woken him to see her home. There was a piece of paper on her pillow with a number written on it. He memorized it, showered, dressed, slipped the paper into his pocket, and made his way to the base, circling a nearby neighborhood until Maya had checked that he wasn’t being tracked by satellite or drone.

  Cain and the team, minus Sean and Sara still on van duty, waited in the lounge.

  “Got anything for me?” Cain asked.

  “Soon. Another day or two, and I’ll crack through her defenses. What about the Medusa leaflet?” He’d called in the info last night when he’d excused himself to go to the gents. “I smell trouble.”

  “Lann’s looking into it.” Cain gave a tired sigh. “Katherine already sent us everything she could find on the name to see if we can make any connections. For the time being, our focus remains on Godfrey.”

  Bono nodded. “Understood.”

  The team started dispersing one by one. When Joss passed him, Bono grabbed his arm. “I need to have a word with you.”

  “Let’s have a coffee.”

  In the kitchen, Bono closed the door behind them. “I’m going to kill Doumar.”

  Joss regarded him with a curious expression. “What happened?”

  “He’s hurting Sky.”

  His hand stilled on the button on the espresso machine. There were few things that infuriated Joss as much as violence against women and chi
ldren. Bono knew it came from issues he had with an abusive father, although Joss never spoke about it.

  Joss sighed and dragged his hands through his hair. “What did he do?”

  “The bruises she has could’ve only come from a boot.”

  “That fucker.” Joss pressed the button and reached for the sugar. His hand shook on the pot. “We can’t take him out, not until he’s led us to Godfrey, but when he has, I promise you, you can kill him yourself.”

  “You need to know I went to see him last night.”

  Joss left the cups he was busy with and pressed his palms on the counter. “You did what?”

  “I told him what I’ll do to him if he touches her again. I may not be able to kill him yet, but I won’t stand by and let him hurt her while I bide my time to break his neck.”

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “You’ll probably pick up the footage of me entering the building on the satellite feed.”

  “Cain won’t be happy. If he finds out, he’ll pull you off the case.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.”

  Understanding made Joss’s eyes swirl with a broody light. “You’re asking me to wipe out the feed.”

  “Joss…” He adjusted the patch over his eye. “That time on the boat with Clelia, before she jumped, do you remember?”

  Joss flinched. “Of course I fucking remember. I try hard not to. Why bring it up?”

  “I didn’t understand why you reacted the way you did. You wanted to bite off my head for smiling at her. When Cain asked if you could kill her if needed, I thought you were going to explode. There was nothing you wouldn’t do to save her. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” he hissed. “I loved her since forever, even before I knew it myself.”

  “Then you’ll understand how I feel about Sky.”

  “Fuck, Bono. This is bad. She’s not Clelia. She’s our enemy. She’s working with the man who’s going to kill us all, if Sky’s prediction comes true. When that happens, not only are we fucked, but so is the world.”

  “How long have you known me?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Trust me, Joss. Don’t let Cain pull me out. Not yet.”

  “I’m going to talk to you as a friend, not as a boss. Don’t let what happened back in Africa dictate your actions, because no matter what you do, no matter who you save, you can’t bring Lydia back.”

  “This is not about her.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Let me fight this war like you fought the war we were in with Clelia. I give you my personal permission to take me out the minute you believe I’m not capable of making a rational decision.”

  Joss hung his head, his long hair obscuring his expression. When he finally lifted his face, his steel-gray eyes were troubled. “Don’t fuck this up. I won’t enjoy killing you.”

  “I’ll do my best. Just promise me if I die before I get a chance to kill that fucker you’ll take care of him.”

  “You’ve got my word.”

  “May I borrow Lann for a couple of hours?”

  “What for?”

  “I want to put a lock on Sky’s door.”

  “How am I supposed to explain that to Cain?”

  Bono winked. “I’m keeping our source of information safe.”

  “Don’t forget, Cain can see what goes on in your mind.”

  “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  The look Joss gave him said he disagreed.

  ~ * ~

  When her last fortune-telling session was over, Sky pulled a coat on over her club outfit and hurried to the internet café on the corner. Checking that no one was following, she slipped inside, paid for a local call, and dialed Frans from a private booth.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding despondent. “Doumar is clever. He takes precautions. I lost his tail.”

  She rested her forehead against the cold glass of the booth and closed her eyes. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  She swallowed down her tears. “It’s okay, Frans. I know you’re doing your best.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m going through the preprimary school records.”

  “It won’t help. Doumar would’ve lied about Niels’s date of birth. Thanks, anyway.”

  “Do you want my guy to hack his phone? If I explain this is a special case, maybe he’ll give us a discount.”

  There was no way she could afford Frans’s hacker. They’d already been through this. “Don’t worry.”

  “What will you do?”

  She inhaled deeply. “I’ll call you when I have more money.”

  “Take care.”

  “You too.”

  She hung up. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and fought the despair raging through her. She couldn’t give up. If Frans couldn’t find Niels, it was time for more desperate measures. She didn’t have the luxury of time any longer.

  Back at the club, she did something she’d never done before. She stole money from Doumar. A lot of money. When he found out, he’d kill her. She only hoped by then she’d be long gone with Niels, leaving the club and Godfrey’s sinister ambitions far, far behind.

  She had one hour before they were due to leave for their meeting with Godfrey. Making up an excuse of going out for a banana-coffee shake, she walked to the corner and hailed a cab. She gave the driver the address of a spy store.

  The owner smiled when she entered. “Back for more browsing?”

  “Shopping, actually.”

  “You finally got the money?”

  “Yes.” She pushed the pile of bills over the counter.

  After counting the money, the shop owner reached inside a cupboard and placed a box on the counter. “You remember how it works?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Make sure the phone is charged, or you’ll lose the signal.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Good luck,” he called as she dropped the box in her sling bag and started walking up the street in search of another taxi.

  Making it back to the Red-Light District fifteen minutes before eight, she instructed the taxi driver to drop her two blocks from the club. The rest of the way she made on foot, just in case.

  At that hour, Doumar would be in the front, overseeing the girls’s shift change. In the bathroom, she closed herself in a toilet stall and removed the mobile phone from the packaging with shaking hands. After switching it on and activating the tracker like the shop owner had showed her, she ran the test to ensure it functioned. Certain that the bathroom was deserted, she slipped the phone into her pocket and checked the corridor before going back to the reading room. There, she plugged the phone into the charger to make sure the battery would last and covered it with her jacket, praying no one would discover the apparatus. A quick glance at the wall clock told her she had five minutes.

  She walked to Doumar’s office on shaky legs and knocked. When there was no reply, she entered and went straight for his coat on the jacket stand. Fumbling with the lapel, she tried to pin the chip underneath, but her fingers shook too much. It took two attempts before the clip was secured. She had scarcely smoothed the lapel down when the door opened.

  Doumar paused in the frame, looking at her with a narrowed gaze. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Brushing down your coat,” she said with a shrug. “Are you ready? We can’t be late.”

  He slammed the door. “Where were you?”

  “I went out for a coffee.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Didn’t the doorman tell you?”

  “You don’t go anywhere without permission, do you understand?”

  “Sure. Sorry, I needed to clear my head. It won’t happen again.” She took his coat from the hook and held it out to him. “Shall we go?”

  He eyed her outfit. “Not like that. Go change. You have two minutes.”

  She draped the coat over his arm, aware of his eyes that burned on her back as she walked to the change room. She
didn’t breathe until the door was closed behind her. Only then did she drag in a shaky breath. In less than a minute she pulled on the drum majorette dress and white boots Doumar had provided, and before her time was up, she’d dropped the phone from the reading room in her bag and was waiting by the exit.

  Doumar gave her a nod of approval when he arrived, his coat already donned. In the parking, they took his car.

  “Where is our meeting?” she asked.

  Doumar didn’t answer. He only gave her a sly smile.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the empty lot of an abandoned factory. Sky shivered when Doumar ushered her inside the building with a hand on her back. A single bulb lit the open space. Godfrey sat behind a desk in the circle of light, his men standing around him.

  Doumar’s attitude was cocky, but Sky knew him well enough to recognize the cautious hesitation in his step.

  “Miss Val,” Godfrey said, ignoring Doumar, “come closer.”

  Doumar paused at the edge of the light while she walked to the desk with more bravado than she felt.

  “This,” Godfrey pushed a watch toward her, “is a wrist pad. My technician will show you how to copy the chip.” He flicked his fingers at one of the men who stepped up with a ballpoint pen.

  “Look closely,” Godfrey instructed as the man pushed on the end of the pen to eject a screwdriver tip.

  A button on the side of the pen initialized an automated turning action. After unscrewing a tiny screw on each corner of the watch, he carefully lifted the face and commenced with a demonstration on how to remove the chip and copy it by inserting it into a plastic tray attached to the retractable lid of the pen.

  “There’s nothing to it,” Godfrey said, “except that you have to insert a dummy chip at the same time you’re removing the real chip, or the device will register the tampering and alert the control center. If interference is detected, the device will detonate, sending you and anyone else in a two-meter radius to hell. The dummy chip is located in the tip of the pen. You can easily unscrew it. Got it?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was steady, but she felt anything but that as she accepted the pen and dropped it in her bag.

 

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