by L. S. O'Dea
“This place used to be packed. The sweep has really put a damper on night life. I thought the Guard at the door only asked for my papers because you were here, but I must’ve been wrong. Tonight is going to be slim pickings. Only the best masters let their Guards run around at night. Usually, we have to sneak out.” Indy elbowed Jethro. “Thanks a lot, Almighty.”
“There’s still hope.” He nodded at a few females scattered about the club as they headed across the room.
Indy ordered drinks and then leaned his back against the bar, surveying the room. He nudged Jethro and nodded at a large Guard who was arguing with a female Guard.
“Not worth it.” He took a sip of his beer. The female was cute if you liked freckles, but the Guard was big and he looked like he could throw a punch. He wasn’t opposed to an altercation, but the night was young and he’d rather expend his energy in a more pleasurable manner. Plus, he wasn’t that interested in the girl. She was too short and her reddish hair wasn’t right at all.
“What? Her?” Indy laughed, shaking his head. “I’d never suggest her to a friend. I’ve seen her around and she’s a handful.”
The large, male Guard turned toward them, his eyes widening a bit before he nodded at Indy.
“You know him?” he asked.
“Yeah. His name’s Bruno. He was in our platoon when I first started. Got hurt and made a run for it.”
“Why?” He took a gulp of his drink.
“They would’ve put him down. He needed surgery on his leg, more specialized than the doctors in the Protective Services could perform.”
“That ain’t right.” That was no way to treat the Guards who risked everything protecting them.
“Right or not, it’s the way it is.” Indy shrugged, but the sparkle was missing from his eyes.
“So what happened to him?” Jethro watched the Guard follow the female across the bar and there wasn’t even a hint of a limp. “Seems fine to me.”
“He is now. His new owner, some reporter...a guy named Townsend, paid to have his leg fixed.”
“Maybe we should go somewhere else.” Being seen by the Guard owned by a reporter was worse than being seen by ten Almightys.
“Why? Because of Bruno? Don’t worry. He was never one to bother himself with current events.”
The female shoved the large Guard and stormed away, joining a few other females at a table. Bruno glared after her and then walked to the bar, stopping a few feet from them.
“Looks like he could use some cheering up.” Indy made his way to the other Guard. After a few words they both headed over to Jethro.
“Jethro, this is Bruno. Bruno. Jethro.” Indy ordered another beer for Bruno
“Nice to meet you.” Jethro extended his hand.
Bruno stared at him a moment and then shook his hand with his large paw.
“You’re having trouble with the fairer sex too, I see.” Indy glanced at the female Bruno had been talking to.
Bruno grunted and took a drink of his beer.
“Join the club.” Indy clasped Jethro’s shoulder. “This one here has his heart set on a female but she doesn’t want anything to do with him.”
Jethro snorted. That was an understatement.
“We’re here to get his mind off her.” Indy leaned over by Bruno, lowering his voice. “He’s never been with a Guard before.”
“That’s good, since it’s illegal.” Bruno’s small eyes studied them over his mug of beer.
“When did you become a stickler for the rules? From what I remember, you never cared who you mated with as long as it was female.” Indy nudged Bruno.
“That’s my motto.” Jethro tipped his beer. He understood Bruno’s cautiousness. Times were tricky. “And she has to be cute. That’s very, very important.”
“Agreed.” Bruno’s eyes darted back to the female across the room.
“She’s cute,” said Indy. “I’ve seen her around. What’s her name?”
“Her name makes no difference to you.” Bruno snarled at Indy. “She’s mine.”
“Hey, now.” Indy held up his hands, spilling a bit of his beer. “You know me. I never hunt in a friend’s territory.”
Bruno grunted. “Her name’s Sassy.”
“Does she belong to the reporter too?” he asked, trying to make conversation.
Bruno stared at him for a long moment before answering. “Yeah. She does.”
“She has some cute friends,” he said. There were three other female Guards sitting with Sassy.
“Doubt that any of them will give you a tumble.” Bruno took a drink of his beer.
“Ouch. That hurt.” He grinned at the Guard.
“He’s more appealing to the opposite sex than you might think,” said Indy.
“Not enough to risk being whipped for a few hours of fun,” said Bruno.
“So, you heard about that?” He tossed back the rest of his beer. “We should leave.” So much for his night of fun. He’d go into the forest and hunt. He had to do something to burn off this pounding in his blood.
“Now, hold on.” Indy grabbed his arm. “Bruno didn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But he obviously knows about it which means others here might too.”
“I’m sure they all do.” Bruno took a drink. “It was a big deal. They haven’t punished an Almighty for interclass mating in years and never with twenty lashes.” His eyes wandered over Jethro. “Surprised you’re up and about. Did they hold back on the lash?”
“That’s it exactly.” Indy’s elbow landed hard in Jethro’s gut. “But we can’t let anyone know.” He nudged Jethro again, but this time not as hard. “He’s supposed to stay out of sight until he should be healed, but”—he grinned—“a male’s got appetites to satisfy.”
Bruno glanced at the clock over the bar and finished his beer.
“I’m guessing,”—Indy motioned to the bartender for another round—“that although these Guards heard about the flogging, they probably don’t know who was flogged.”
“They know his name.” Bruno continued to stare at Jethro. “But most probably don’t know what he looks like.” He accepted the beer Indy handed him.
“Excellent.” Indy pointed to a couple of female Guards who were sitting at the bar giggling and chatting. “How about them? They don’t look like the type to be well versed in current affairs.”
They were a little chunky but the extra flesh was in the right places. Jethro relaxed against the bar and picked up his beer. “Maybe.”
“I’ll bet you a drink they won’t want nothing to do with either of you.” Bruno tossed back his beer in a few large gulps and ordered another, looking at the clock again.
“You’re on.” Indy headed toward the two females.
“So, the Grunt held back on the lash, did he?” asked Bruno.
“It didn’t feel like it at the time, but I guess he did or I’d still be in bed.” He met the Guard’s eyes. “Plus, I had a good doctor.”
“Yeah, that helps.” Bruno sipped his beer, his small eyes never leaving Jethro.
The Guard wasn’t buying the story but before he could continue Indy pushed between them, frowning slightly.
“Guess you owe me one.” Bruno laughed, hitting Indy on the arm and almost knocking the other Guard over.
“Not yet. I still get a chance.” Jethro picked up his beer.
“Good luck, Almighty. You’ll need it.” Bruno held up his mug in salute.
“Thanks. I’ll take all the luck I can get.” Jethro sauntered over to the females. His blood was racing. He needed this more than he’d realized. He needed to lose himself in a female, to forget everything but the taste and feel of her. He stopped next to them, perhaps a little too close to the one. “May I buy you a drink?”
The two looked at him, their eyes traveling up and down his body. There was a hint of interest in the one’s eyes. She had curly, dark brown hair and a large mouth. Her breasts were large but not saggy. There was nothing Trinity-like about her and that suited
him just fine.
“No thank you, Almighty,” said the other one, who had short, straight, brown hair.
“Ah, that’s not nice.” He edged a little closer to the curly haired Guard.
“What isn’t?” she asked, her brown eyes sparkling with interest.
“Holding my class against me.”
“That’s what your kind does to us.” The other female waved her hand. “Look at this place. It’s empty because we can’t be out without our papers.”
“Don’t listen to a word Kimmy says. Her master owns this club and these rules are hurting his pocketbook,” said the curly haired Guard.
“Let me help with that.” He stopped the waitress and ordered another round. He downed his drink—the alcohol going straight to his head and to his groin. He needed to get Curly away from her friend. He leaned in by her ear. “What’s your name?”
“My master calls me Sugar.” She didn’t lean away. She smelled of flowers. It wasn’t his preferred perfume but it was okay.
He shifted a little closer so his lips brushed against her ear. “I bet he does. You must taste sweet as sugar.”
“She. My master is a female.” She put a bit of distance between them.
“Have you ever been with an Almighty?” He was being too aggressive. He needed to slow down, but he couldn’t. He was fighting the urge to grab her hand and drag her to the nearest dark corner. He needed to mate.
“No, and I don’t plan on it tonight either.” She scooted away from him.
His eyes narrowed and his hands trembled, but he took a deep breath and leaned against the bar, giving her space. This was a hunt. It required patience. He could pounce later, when she was ready. “Shame. You would’ve enjoyed it.”
Sugar and Kimmy laughed and he grinned. There was still hope.
The waitress came over and he paid for the drinks, giving the Guard a good tip. As soon as she left, his focus went back to his prey. “So Sugar, do you have a boyfriend?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Sugar, come on.” Kimmy stood, sending him a dirty look.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To the bathroom.” Kimmy grabbed her friend’s hand. “Come with me.”
He almost interjected but the stubborn set to Sugar’s lips made him hold his tongue. It seemed she was a Guard who was tired of obeying.
“I don’t have to go.” Sugar pulled her hand free. “I’ll be fine right here.”
“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” Kimmy frowned at both of them and left.
He took Sugar’s hand in his, running his thumb across her knuckles. “We should kiss.”
“I said I wasn’t going home with you and I meant it.” She didn’t pull her hand away.
“I know.” He touched his heart. “To my greatest disappointment, but I’m not talking about mating. I’m talking about a kiss. A sweet, simple kiss.”
She leaned closer. His nostril flared taking in a hint of musk. She was definitely interested. He just needed to get her alone.
“We should find out if there’s any future for us. You know chemistry.” He kissed the tips of her fingers.
“And kissing you will tell me that?” She tried to sound amused, but her voice quavered a bit.
“Absolutely. Think of all the time we’ll save if we’re not”—he kissed each of her knuckles—“compatible. I won’t have to waste time wooing you and you can move on to a male who’s better suited to your tastes.” She still looked undecided. “No one has to know. We can step outside.” He gave her hand a slight tug. “It’s just a kiss. If you don’t like it, you can leave. I’ll even walk you back inside.” He was praying that wouldn’t happen.
He tugged on her hand again and she let him pull her off the stool. Indy gave him a nod as they headed toward the door. Bruno was gone, but it didn’t matter. He could collect on his drink later or never. He had other things planned for the evening anyway.
Once outside, he led Sugar around the building and backed her up against the wall, his hands on either side of her head. He had to make this kiss good enough to convince her to take him home.
“Now, where were we?” He smiled and her brown eyes smiled back.
“We were about to see if we’re compatible.”
“Ah, yes.” He leaned down and a movement at the end of the alleyway caught his attention. Bruno glanced over his shoulder and then slipped into a nearby carriage. The Guard had seemed nervous. He inhaled. Definitely the scent of anxiety and nerves, not fear but similar. Something was up.
Sugar cleared her throat.
He looked at her and then back to where Bruno had disappeared. To mate or to chase? His instincts screamed for both but he didn’t have time, unless...He had a moment to get her primed. His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. It wasn’t the most elegant of kisses but she responded. He leaned away but she followed, her lips seeking his. Yes, they’d mate, but it’d be later. “I have to go.”
“What?” She wasn’t happy.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes and then we’ll go to your place.” He kissed her again, taking a few moments to let his hand wander over her ample curves. Yes, she wanted him and he’d have her, but not now. He led her back into the bar and grabbed Indy.
“What’s going on? I thought you were going to get lucky.” Indy followed him into the carriage.
“I still might.” The alleyway was too narrow for his carriage so Cack maneuvered it around the bar. “Where did Bruno go?”
“I don’t know.”
“He was acting nervous when he got into his carriage.”
“So, maybe he’s late getting it back to his master.”
“Which reporter is his master?”
“Townsend,” said Indy. “Why?”
Townsend was reporting for their side. “It’s probably nothing but there was something about the way he moved and he smelled nervous.” He ordered Cack to go in the direction he’d seen Bruno’s carriage head.
“He probably didn’t want to pay for a round. He’s a bit cheap.” Indy leaned back against the seat. “You gave up a night filled with mating for a cold chase down a street. You’re an idiot.”
“He didn’t buy your story about the Grunt holding back on the lash. What if he’s going to report me being out, strong and healthy?”
“What can you do about it? It’d be his word against yours. He didn’t take any pictures.” Indy leaned forward. “That’s his carriage.”
“Yes, it is and it’s not moving.” He leaned out the window. “Cack, pull into the bushes far enough to hide the carriage.” As soon as they were hidden he said, “Go and see if he’s inside.”
Indy gave him a dirty look but slipped out of the carriage and into the forest. A few minutes later he was back. “Nope. Carriage is empty.”
“Then we wait.” There was something going on. He could feel it in his blood.
CHAPTER 17: HUGH
HUGH SAT ON the floor, paging through his reports as he waited for Parson to fall asleep. On Parson’s day off he usually went out with friends but it was just Hugh’s luck that tonight—the night he needed the other man gone—Parson had stayed at the facility.
The other day, when he’d met with Bruno he’d mouthed that they needed to meet again and had tapped the reports. Bruno would understand that the time and location was written inside. With The Victor nearby, he hadn’t wanted to risk saying anything else. Tonight, after he’d cleaned the lab—Guards didn’t get days off—he’d gone back to the room and had waited.
“We should get some sleep.” Parson put his book down.
He grunted an agreement, placing his papers aside and stretching out on his mat.
Parson turned out the light and a few minutes later, his breathing was steady with sleep. Hugh sat up, sliding one of the other Almighty’s work shoes out from under the bed. He wedged the tracking device beneath the sole. He put the shoe back, grabbed his stuff and snuck out the door. This would give him at least a f
ew hours head start before Parson contacted Meesus.
He went into the lab and ran the program to re-angle the cameras. He checked his path across the estate and started the timer that’d unlock the gate. In less than an hour, everything would revert back and another program would run, clearing all evidence of these activities from the computer. No one would ever find any trace unless they really studied the system logs. He left the lab, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head as he moved down the hallway and out the door. He darted across the yard and ducked into the bushes, making his way to the back of the estate.
Once at the fence he waited. He hated this part. It reminded him of prison—the noises he couldn’t identify and the helplessness and fear that clung to him like a shadow. There was a slight click and he let out his breath, not realizing until then that he’d been holding it. He looked for Bruno, but nothing moved. He counted to ten. There was no way back inside once he left the estate, but he only had thirty seconds before the gate would lock and then he’d be stuck here another night. Emmanuel could arrive any day. It was officially “next week”. Bruno or no Bruno, he was leaving. He slipped through the gate and raced across the street. He ducked into some bushes and studied the area to see if anyone had noticed his escape. The estate was quiet. He inhaled deeply and moved farther into the brush and waited. Bruno would arrive. He had faith in the Guard.
He pulled his knife. Not that it’d do him much good when he could barely see. Thankfully, it was a clear night, otherwise, he’d have to risk turning on his flashlight. There was a slight movement in the bushes ahead. He held perfectly still, not even breathing, hoping he was concealed because running wasn’t an option. His leg still hurt where he’d removed the tracking device, plus he had nowhere to go.
“What are you doing out of the fence.” Bruno stepped from the vegetation, followed by a slight odor of beer.
“Thank Araldo.” He sheathed his knife. “I’m done.”
“Completely?”
“As done as I’m going to be. A Handler visited the other day. It’s not safe for me to stay.” Plus, he had to deliver the serum and he wanted to see Trinity. She’d probably had about all the peace and quiet at base camp she could handle.