Dark Operative

by I. T. Lucas

  Watching Ruth's panic rising again, Jackson decided to lighten the mood. "What Nathalie means is that you'll be working longer hours and harder than your employees, and sometimes your take-home profits will be less than your servers' tips. But, hey, you're the boss."

  Nathalie glared at him. "You're supposed to be encouraging."

  He winked at Ruth. "You should know what you're getting yourself into. But let me tell you this. Being in charge of your future is worth the hard work and the occasional disappointment."

  Chapter 21: Turner

  In his office, Turner closed the file Alice had prepared for him. The transcripts of several cases of girls abducted in the US, in the words of the victims themselves, was easily available to all law enforcement personnel.

  No special clearance had been required.

  He felt for the young victims. Even a cold and jaded man like him could not have remained unaffected.

  Turner had seen his share of horrific acts. But this vile systematic ruination of young human lives for profit was worse because it was so widespread.

  It was an industry.

  The methods were as sophisticated as they were cruel. Even a smart girl from a decent home could easily fall into the trap. Once they were taken, the net immediately tightened, making it impossible to resist or seek help.

  To make them cooperate, the girls were given a false glimmer of hope.

  After working off the debt of what had been supposedly spent on their acquisition, they would be free to go. The old trick of a stick in one hand and a carrot in the other worked in this situation just as well as in another.

  What he couldn't understand, though, was the lack of awareness, and how little the authorities were doing about it. The least that should have been done was to make the methods of coercion known so girls would know what to look out for.

  But politicians didn't want to soil their hands by association and were, therefore, contributing to the conspiracy of silence by pretending that the problem didn't exist.

  Alice opened the door. "Brian is here to see you."

  "Let him in." Turner put the file away in his desk drawer.

  "Good morning, Turner. And how are you this fine day?"

  The smile on the analyst's face annoyed him. "I'm well. Please, take a seat."

  It felt all wrong to talk to Brian about his date with Bridget, and he was tempted to tell the guy he didn't need any further help. But that would have been a lie.

  "She invited me over for dinner at her place."

  "Splendid," Brian said. "The things I ordered for your apartment should arrive tomorrow. It will take me less than an hour to arrange everything and make it look as if a real person is living in there. After that, you can invite her over."

  Turner rubbed the back of his head. "I offered another restaurant date, but she said she wanted to cook for me."

  Brian grinned. "She wants you, and she is impatient."

  "What should I do?" Turner wasn't sure he would be able to play it cool if Bridget came on to him. The woman was too sexy to resist.

  "Go for it, my man."

  "But you said I should let her chase me."

  "You did, and it worked. If you keep resisting, she will think you're not into her."

  "Yeah, she looked disappointed by that kiss on the cheek. Are you sure it works for you? Because it didn't feel right to me."

  "It works every time."

  "She said I should dress casually. Does it mean jeans?"

  Brian rubbed his hands. "Not any jeans. We need to go shopping again."

  "Not going to happen. Can I pay you to do it for me?"

  "Take your place on the date, or buy clothes for you?"

  Turner had a sudden urge to reach over and grab Brian by the throat. What the hell was happening to him?

  "The shopping," he practically spat out the words.

  The analyst lifted his hands, palms out. "Peace. It was just a joke. Are you sure you don't have feelings for this woman? Because a moment ago you looked raving mad with jealousy and ready to throttle me."

  As disturbing as it was to admit, Brian wasn't wrong. The image of the handsome analyst with Bridget had brought about an unexpected surge of anger. "My feelings are none of your business."

  "Very well. I'll grab a few things and drop them off at your apartment."

  "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me before you see my bill. I'm charging you my regular hourly rate."

  "I expected nothing less." Three hundred and fifty dollars an hour, but if it worked, it was worth it.

  Except, Turner wasn't sure. Perhaps the type of women Brian favored responded to his particular style, but Bridget was in a league of her own and incomparable. A different approach was needed, but neither he nor Brian knew what it was.

  As with most things, the way to figure it out was to watch, listen, and adapt. Yesterday, Turner had felt like a dressed up mannequin.

  "Don't go crazy with the designer stuff. She wasn't impressed by it."

  "I'll go midrange."

  "One last thing. What should I bring?"

  "Wine."

  "Sounds easy enough."

  "Nothing cheap, though."

  "Noted."

  When Brian left, Turner called Alice in. "I need a favor."

  "Sure."

  He pulled out his wallet and handed her three hundred bucks. "Can you get me a fancy bottle of wine?"

  She arched a brow. "Going on a date, boss?"

  Reluctantly, he nodded. It was bad enough that Brian knew, now Alice knew as well.

  "Who is she?"

  "No one you know."

  When she opened her mouth again, he lifted a hand to stop her. "No more questions, Alice."

  She pouted. "Yes, boss."

  Turner let out a breath when Alice turned on her heel and walked toward the door, but then she stopped with her hand on the handle. "Come on, boss. Give me something. I've been working for you since you started your civilian career."

  "She is a redhead."

  Alice laughed. "Thank you. I know how hard that must've been for you."

  He waved a hand. "Just go. And wipe that smile off your face."

  "Yes, boss."

  As his assistant closed the door behind her, he heard her giggle.

  Alice was one of the few people he couldn't intimidate, not because he was nice to her, but because she wasn't scared of him. Never had been. It had been one of the main reasons he hired her in the first place. A timid secretary would not have survived a day in his office.

  Chapter 22: Bridget

  "Thank you, Okidu. You were tremendously helpful." Bridget finished jotting down the last recipe he'd given her.

  "You are welcome, mistress. I apologize for my inability to prepare the meal for you. With a little more advance notice, I could have done it last night."

  "That's okay, Okidu. I think I can manage."

  "Very well. Good day, mistress."

  Ever since the village project had started, both Kian's and Amanda's butlers had been busy with the endless deliveries of building materials and other supplies. It was a good thing that their bio-mechanical bodies didn't require rest, and the two could work around the clock. Kian was vigilant about keeping the location secret and didn't trust anyone else with the deliveries.

  Which meant that she couldn't borrow one of them for a day and have him take care of everything, starting with the grocery shopping, and ending with the cleanup, and everything in between. She would have to make a supermarket run to buy all the ingredients before she could even start cooking.

  Not a big deal. There were no new patients in the clinic, and her research could wait. This meal was more important. Bridget had an ulterior motive behind inviting Turner to her place for dinner, and not the one he assumed.

  Well, that too.

  But the main reason was to surprise him with the best of vegan cuisine in an attempt to make a convert out of him. That was why she hadn't asked him what kinds of foods he liked to e
at.

  There was so much research out there about how harmful consuming animal products was to human health, but only a tiny fraction of the population bothered to make themselves familiar with it, including the doctors who were supposed to be well informed but weren't.

  Eating a plant-based diet was optional for immortals whose bodies were excellent self-healing machines, but not for humans, especially those suffering from potentially terminal diseases.

  Most people dismissed it as nonsense, or animal rights activists’ propaganda, but Turner was different. The guy didn't accept anything as an immutable fact without digging deep, finding all the pertinent information, and making up his own mind.

  Naturally, he wouldn't take her word for it. But all she had to do was introduce him to the concept, point him in the direction of all the research material available to anyone who wanted to educate themselves on the subject, and lastly, show him that vegan dishes could be just as tasty and as satisfying as those made from animal products.

  She knew that Victor Turner would do his homework and reach his own conclusions.

  Fates, Bridget wasn't sure what she was attracted to more—his sharp intelligence, or his muscular body, or those hard, gray eyes. She could even tolerate his lack of emotions. Turner compensated for that deficiency with stimulating conversations.

  The truth was that Bridget was hungrier for companionship than for love. After all, Julian fulfilled her need for love, but she'd never had a partner to share her life with.

  Not that Victor Turner was that guy.

  He was human and most likely not a dormant carrier of immortal genes. In fact, she hoped that he wasn't. Mainly because it was too depressing to think that he was but had missed his chance, but also because it meant the venom bite would be harmless to him.

  If he were a Dormant, attempting transition was more dangerous to his life than the cancer. But if he was just a human, the venom of an immortal male would be harmless to him and might even have therapeutic benefits.

  At seven o'clock sharp, the guard called to let Bridget know Turner was waiting for her down in the lobby.

  Stopping by the mirror, she fluffed up her hair and checked her teeth.

  Turner was waiting for her on the other side of the glass divider, looking like he'd just stepped down from a cover of a magazine specializing in some lucrative hobby. No man had ever looked so fine in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket.

  At least in her opinion.

  Bridget motioned for the guard to buzz him in.

  "You're very punctual." Without her high heels, she had to stretch a little to kiss his cheek. "I like that in a man."

  Turner surprised her by wrapping his arm around her waist. "I usually arrive fifteen minutes earlier or more."

  "Makes sense with how unpredictable traffic is." She called the elevator.

  "We are going up?" Turner asked.

  "Did you think I lived underground?"

  He followed her into the lift. "I know very little about the immortal way of life. Aren't you like vampires? Shunning the sun and hiding in basements?"

  They reached her floor. "We have no problem with the sun." She stepped out. "Some of the older ones have sensitive eyes, but that's about it."

  "How about the goddess?" Turner followed her down the hallway.

  "She actually loves to sunbathe. But she needs to wear specialized sunglasses to protect her eyes." Bridget opened the door to her apartment and waved him in. "Welcome to Casa la Bridget."

  Turner scanned her living room, no doubt committing every detail to memory. "It smells good. What is it?"

  "Take a seat, and I'll bring it out. It's a surprise."

  Victor put the wine bottle he'd brought on the table but remained standing as if not sure what to do next. "Do you need help in there? I know my way around a kitchen," he said.

  "You can uncork the wine."

  She had everything ready on a warming tray which she carried to the dining table.

  Looking alarmed, Turner pushed to his feet. "That looks heavy."

  "Not for me. Did you forget that I'm an immortal female? We are stronger than human women."

  He sat back down. "Exactly how strong are you?"

  "As strong as the average human male."

  "So no superpowers?"

  "I didn't say that."

  He smiled. "Now I'm curious. Tell me."

  "Do you know what a thrall is?"

  "Yes, Brundar treated me to a demonstration. Quite impressive."

  Bridget took the cover off the salad and loaded two small plates, putting one in front of Turner. "I'm not nearly as good as Brundar, but I can do that. Other than that I'm a super mom and a super doctor."

  "I'm sure you are." Turner forked some of the papaya salad.

  It took him a couple of seconds to realize that she was waiting for him to comment. "It's very good. Not too spicy, which is good. Most Thai dishes are too hot for me to handle."

  A sexual innuendo was on the tip of her tongue, but Bridget had promised herself not to push Turner. "Do you like Thai cuisine?" she asked instead.

  "When it's not too spicy."

  "That's the theme for this evening."

  "I should have brought a different wine. I don't know if this one works with Thai."

  Bridget waved a hand. "As long as it is good, I don't care if it's the right combination or not."

  When Turner finished his salad, Bridget served them vegetarian curry over rice, and again waited for his response.

  Their interaction was far from relaxed. Both were trying to be polite and amiable, which resulted in a somewhat stilted conversation. Bridget wished she could let go and just be herself, joking when she felt like it, or coming on strong and seducing him. She was itching to introduce the guy to sex with an immortal woman. It would have blown his mind.

  But Turner wasn't like the other human males she picked up in clubs. First of all, he was older than her usual fare, and kind of awkward. It must've been difficult for him to date, which was probably the reason he was still single at his age.

  "It's very good," he finally said, after finishing most of his curry.

  "I'm glad. I wanted to show you that vegan dishes are tasty. Did you miss not having meat?"

  He shook his head. "Not at all. I wouldn't mind eating like this every day."

  Was he hinting that he wanted her to cook for him on a daily basis? Wasn't going to happen even if he moved in with her. Not unless he intended to do the cooking himself.

  Right.

  It was only their second date, and thinking about cohabiting arrangements was grossly premature.

  "This was very easy to make," she said. "I'm not a great cook. If I could have success on my first try, then anyone can do it."

  Turner lifted a brow. "I thought this is what you usually eat. You said you are vegetarian."

  "I am. But I'm not vegan. Which in my case means that I eat dairy from time to time. Being immortal I'm not concerned about the health implication of eating animal products. It's more of a moral call. But you, as a human, should stay away from them."

  Turner put his utensils down. "I don't plan on remaining human for long. But I'll stop eating meat if it bothers you."

  "Don't do it for me. I'm used to people devouring steaks and ribs in front of me. My son loves his meat, and I order it for him whenever he is here. Do it for your health. Think of it as a backup plan in case you are not a Dormant, and you don't transition."

  He pinned her with his intense gray eyes. "Is this your advice as my physician?"

  His question had nothing to do with dietary advice, and everything to do with the boundaries of their relationship.

  "This is my advice to you as a friend. I'm not your physician, Victor. I've conducted some tests, and I'm still waiting for your doctor to forward the results of your other tests. When I'm done, I'm going to report my findings to Kian. But I'm not in charge of your health or your treatments."

  Chapter 23: Turner


  Turner had been quite sure that Bridget didn't think of him as her patient, or if she had she didn't care, but he needed to check this item off before proceeding.

  But now that the issue was cleared, he had no idea what to do. Should he just ask her if she wanted to take him to her bed? Should he pick her up and carry her there?

  In the end, he opted for the truth. Brian would not have approved, but fuck it. Turner was done pretending.

  "You must forgive me, but I'm out of practice. I don't know what is okay and what is not, and what is expected of me."

  Bridget smiled indulgently. "When was the last time you went on a date?"

  "In college."

  She lifted a brow. "What about hookups?"

  "The last one was months ago. I hope it doesn't turn you off, but I prefer paid company. No effort required and no expectations. It's like a business transaction."

  Pushing away from the table, Bridget got up and sauntered over to him. "How much do you normally pay for it?" She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  "About a thousand."

  "High-class company. You pamper yourself."

  "I can afford it."

  She put her finger to his lips, rubbing them gently. "Did you ever pay anyone five thousand?"

  He shook his head instead of replying because her finger was still on his lips.

  "That's what I charge. But I promise you I'm worth it. In fact, I'm sure you are going to tip me when I'm done with you."

  He liked the game Bridget was playing. And he was grateful for her insight and her consideration. This was familiar territory, and she'd just given him permission to act as he did with his paid escorts, putting him at ease.

  "I need to sample the goods first," he said.

  "Smart man." She pulled his head down and kissed him.

  He loved her lips. Big and fleshy and soft yet persistent. She licked inside his mouth, her small tongue darting in and catching his for a little dance.