The Abduction

by Nichole Allen

  “Okay, here is your license. Have you picked what model you want?” The man behind the desk asked, handing Damien his license.

  “Cheapest one. We’re on a budget.”

  Twenty minutes later, Damien and Lilian were sitting comfortably inside of a small car while rain pattered against the windows. Traffic was bumper to bumper and their hour-and-a-half journey looked like it might be more like two hours.

  “Think he’ll be mad if we’re late?” Lillian asked.

  “Too bad. We can’t control the weather and we got the invitation last minute. Poor planning on his part.”

  Lillian nodded her head in agreement and looked out the window. Los Angeles was behind them now so there was no turning back, whether they arrived in Laguna Beach in one hour or five hours. Alexei Lazarev would have to wait whether he wanted to or not.

  “What do you think this guy’s going to be like?” Damien asked after nearly an hour of silence. They were only five minutes away from their destination and their nerves were kicking in.

  “Hopefully not a pompous ass,” Lillian muttered. “He’s rich, I know that much.”

  “I hope we can sing our own songs. I hate singing songs written by others.”

  “A song came to me yesterday. I only got about halfway through. I’ll sing it for you on the way back home.”

  “Is it about me?” Damien smirked.

  Lillian chuckled. “Of course it’s about you.”

  Damien looked at his car’s GPS briefly and then turned into a driveway. The house was beautiful. Something neither Lillian nor Damien had ever seen before in their lives. When Lillian got out of the car, she could smell the ocean and hear the seagulls screeching from up above. Envy immediately overcame her. She wanted this life. Not the current life she was stuck with.

  “Well, time to meet this guy,” Damien said.

  Lillian followed him up the stairs to the modern house that was made mostly of glass. Damien rang the doorbell and they waited for someone to answer.

  That someone was a woman with platinum blonde hair, large green eyes and lips that resembled a baboon’s butt. She wore a tight red dress that covered just enough in the front, at least, so that her panties, if she wore any, were still concealed.

  “Hi,” she said lazily. “You must be Lilliana and Damien.”

  “Lillian and Damien,” Lillian corrected. “And hello. We’re here to see Mr. Lazarev.”

  “Ah, yes, I know. I’m Michaela. Unfortunately, Alexei couldn’t be here so he left me in charge of the interview. Come in.”

  Lillian and Damien followed Michaela into the house. The interior was sleek and modern and very white. Too white for Lillian’s taste. Keeping the place clean must cost a fortune and entertaining was probably the maid’s worst nightmare.

  As they followed Michaela, a shiver ran through Lillian’s spine and her senses went from zero to one hundred. Her heart sped up quickly and her eyes darted around the room, trying to find the source of her adrenaline rush. But she could find nothing.

  “Why couldn’t Mr. Lazarev be here again?” Damien asked when they entered an office that faced the ocean.

  Michaela shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. He ran out of the house earlier today and texted me saying he wouldn’t be back all day and to handle his appointments.”

  Damien and Lillian glanced at one another. The situation had gone from somewhat awkward to incredibly awkward. And what was Michaela’s relationship to Mr. Lazarev? Lillian wanted to know. Is she an assistant or are they sleeping together?

  “So, Mr. Lazarev has some questions for me to ask you. Do you mind?” Michaela asked.

  “No. Ask away.”

  “Okay, great. First question: Are you uncomfortable watching two people have sex?”

  “Huh?” Lillian and Damien asked at the same time.

  “Well, are you? I have to mark down your answers.”

  Lillian had never thought of it and she was sure neither did Damien. Growing up in a werewolf pack, Lillian had seen mating rituals but they took place in werewolf form so it was a bit less awkward. The only times she watched humans have sex was porn.

  “Um, I guess not,” Lillian replied uncertainly.

  “And you?” Michaela asked Damien.

  His answer mirrored Lillian’s.

  Michaela wrote down something on a piece of paper. “Okay, next question. Are you uncomfortable having sex in front of others?”

  Lillian didn’t have a clue how to answer this. She never participated in her pack’s mating rituals and generally kept Damien away from werewolf practices. Her inhibitions were probably lower than a regular human, though. Modesty wasn’t something werewolves took seriously.

  “We’ve never had sex in front of strangers,” Damien said.

  “Would you be uncomfortable if you did?” Michaela asked.

  Damien shrugged his shoulders. “Nope.” He looked at Lillian.

  She stared at him back and shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t be uncomfortable.”

  Michaela tossed the paper and pen onto the desk in front of her. “Okay. Interview over.”

  “Wait, what? That’s it?” Damien asked.

  “As far as I know, yes. Alexei will call you sometime this week. Maybe even tonight. What’s the best number to reach you at?”

  Lillian left the number of their elderly neighbor, whose phone they often used, and they were out of the house just as quickly as they found themselves brought inside.

  “That was fucking weird,” Damien said as he navigated away from the large, glass house.

  In the seat beside him, Lillian nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, it was.”

  *****

  “Why did you react like that?” Damien asked Lillian as he parked the car in front of a beach-side shack. The clouds and rain were left behind in Los Angeles and Damien remembered he promised Lillian a beach day, something they hadn’t had in a long time.

  “You noticed that?” Lillian said.

  Damien shook his head. “You’re my fiancée. I know you like the back of my hand. Your body seized up next to me and you went blank for about a minute.”

  “I’m not sure what came over me, honestly. I just felt—something.”

  “Well, maybe you need food. A nice big, bloody steak. Hell, we both do.” Damien took Lillian’s hand and led her into the shack. They were seated outside where Damien watched the surfers, occasionally booing when one wiped out, and Lillian still thought about her reaction inside of Alexei Lazarev’s house.

  “They don’t have steak,” Damien said, interrupting her thoughts as he went through the menu. “But they have a killer seafood plate. We can share it.”

  “Sounds good!”

  When the food came, they ate in silence. Lillian couldn’t remember having something so tasty. Unfortunately, they would have no leftovers to bring home. Her appetite combined with Damien’s meant food disappeared quickly.

  “Too bad we didn’t bring a blanket to sit on,” Lillian said when they left the shack and walked along the shore holding hands. It was just after five and the beach was partially empty. It was also getting a bit chilly, which is probably why the beach wasn’t as crowded as it usually was.

  “I don’t mind sitting on the sand without a blanket,” Damien said.

  Lillian scoffed. “Well, I do. And I have on shorts. The feeling of sand on my legs bothers me.”

  “Is that a werewolf thing?”

  “Not that I know of,” Lillian shrugged her shoulders.

  They found a secluded area of the beach to sit, Lillian taking extra caution to keep her legs off the sand. Damien shook his head and chuckled. Lillian had a mix of human and werewolf traits that caused her to be an extremely peculiar person. Seemingly little things set her off whereas at seemingly big things she barely batted an eyelash. But Damien loved all of her peculiarities. They made Lillian, Lillian.

  At around seven o’clock, the sun started its descent. But neither Lillian nor Damien budged. Sitting on the beac
h, like the other young people around them, pushing their worries aside, was something they didn’t have the luxury of doing. They wanted to relish the moment, because it was one they didn’t expect to have for a while.

  Nearby fireworks startled Lillian and she jumped up in the blink of an eye. Fireworks, thunder and other loud sounds really set her off, so Damien decided now was the time for them to leave. Judging Lillian’s werewolf night eyes far better than his own, he asked her to drive, which calmed her down from the fireworks that had scared her.

  It was just before nine when they walked up the stairs to their apartment. Their elderly neighbor, Mrs. Stein, whose phone they often used, opened the door to her apartment and poked her head through.

  “Damien, Lily? Is that you?”

  “It’s us, Mrs. Stein,” Damien said.

  “Someone called for you. A man named Lazareth. Or Lazaren? Something along those lines. I asked to take a message and he just said to expect a package in the morning.”

  Lillian figured she was talking about Alexei Lazarev. What package they should be expecting, she had no clue. But she appreciated that he had called.

  “Okay. Thanks Mrs. Stein.”

  “I wonder what the package is,” Lillian said as she snuggled close to Damien in their bed.

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see until tomorrow.”

  ****

  A knock on the front door while she cooked herself breakfast drew Lillian away from the kitchen. The FedEx deliveryman handed her a brown envelope and held out his instrument for taking signatures. The exchange was over in a matter of moments and Lillian took the envelope to the kitchen. She didn’t want to open it without Damien, who was out working construction for the day, but curiosity won over and she opened the envelope.

  Inside was a handwritten note in intricate handwriting that Lillian was surprised she could read.

  To Mr. Damien Pacheco and Ms. Lillian Callahan,

  Please except the enclosed check for all of your shopping needs before the show on August sixth. My assistant, Michaela, told me she believes the two of you are perfect fits for the job. I look forward to hearing you in two weeks. If you have any questions or concerns, please email me at a_lazarev@gmail.com or you can reach me at 310-263-4785. Sorry I wasn’t able to meet you personally.

  Alexei Lazarev

  Lillian removed the check and gasped. Twenty-five hundred dollars, clearly written out. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to clear if she deposited it into their bank account, but she didn’t want to waste any more time thinking. She hurriedly dressed and walked to the bank.

  “How long will this amount take to clear?” Lillian asked the bank teller.

  The teller looked at the check. “Three to five days. Maybe more depending on your standing with us.”

  Crap, Lillian thought. She and Damien were in horrible standing with the bank. She was afraid she’d never see the money. The check cashing place by their apartment didn’t cash personal checks so they were shit out of luck until the funds went through.

  If they ever did.

  Lillian left the bank with a feeling of dread. She and Damien had two weeks until their performance. Maybe she could find some cheap clothes at a thrift store or the salvation army. She still hadn’t googled the club, but if Alexei Lazarev was offering them twenty-five hundred dollars to shop, she knew the club was most likely the kind of place that required patrons to dress immaculately.

  On her way home, Lillian remembered the note Alexei had written. It did say if she had and questions or concerns, she should call him or send him an email. She would have to put her pride aside for what she was about to do, and Damien probably wouldn’t like it at all, but there were no other options. She raced into her apartment, found the note, and sprinted down the hall to Mrs. Stein’s door, knocking furiously.

  “What’s the matter, Lily? Are you okay?”

  Lillian smiled sweetly. “Hi, Mrs. Stein. Sorry for the intrusion. Can I use your phone?”

  “Of course.”

  Lillian dialed the number on the note but it went straight to voicemail. She cleared her throat before speaking. “Hi, Mr. Lazarev. In your note, you said to call if we had any concerns. Well, I’m concerned Damien and I won’t fit in at your club. We are broke, can’t afford new clothes and the check might not clear in time or it will be used to pay our overdrafts. I’m not asking for more money, just if you know a place where we can get nice clothing for a club like yours, preferably for free, but cheap is good too. So yeah, bye.”

  She hung up the phone and sighed. The consequences of the call could be disastrous.

  *****

  Damien came home at his usual time with a bag of Chinese food and a couple dollars in his pocket.

  “Remember the package we were expecting?” Lillian asked him. “It came. It was a check for twenty-five hundred dollars.”

  Damien’s eyes widened. “Wow, he really sent one? Did you go to the bank?”

  “Yeah, but it might take a while to clear and a lot of it is going back to the bank because of our overdrafts.”

  “Figures,” Damien muttered. “Maybe there will be something left. We should’ve asked Michaela about the dress code because I have no clue what to wear to this club.”

  “We should have, “Lillian agreed. “I was just too out of it.”

  Later that night in bed, Lillian wondered if Alexei received her message. What if what she had done was the wrong thing? What if Alexei didn’t want a broke couple performing at his club? They would be at square one again. So she didn’t say anything and hoped that the call wouldn’t come around and bite her in the ass.

  The next morning, another storm dropped buckets of rain over Los Angeles. Damien stayed home and they practiced the songs that they planned to sing at the club.

  It was around one in the afternoon, the rain still fell heavily, and a knock on the door startled both Lillian and Damien, who had fallen asleep on the couch.

  “It’s me, Michaela! Let me in!”

  Lillian and Damien stared at each other in shock. Michaela? Why was she there? Lillian dashed to the door and opened it, seeing none other than Michaela from yesterday. She dragged a large trunk into the apartment and collapsed on top of it.

  “You two just had to live on the second floor right?” Michaela asked breathlessly.

  “What are you doing here?” Damien asked. He eyed the trunk and wondered what Michaela had in it.

  “Alexei got Lillian’s message and sent me up here to help you guys out.” Michaela looked around the apartment. “And from the looks of it, you guys need all the help you can get. Alexei’s going to freak when I tell him where you live.”

  Damien raised his hands in front of himself defensively and shook his head. “Wait, what? Why would he be mad? And what message from Lillian?”

  Lillian answered before Michaela did. “I called him and told him we are pretty much broke and don’t have the money to buy anything to wear. I asked him to recommend places we could get clothes for cheap or free. I didn’t know he would send Michaela. Honest.”

  Damien stared at Lillian through narrowed eyes. She could tell he was pissed at her, but she had no choice. This was a ten-thousand-dollar gig. Never before had they been paid that much. Usually they brought home a couple hundred bucks, if they were lucky. She didn’t want Alexei Lazarev regretting asking them to perform.

  “So this is basically charity?” Damien asked.

  Michaela shrugged. “If you want to look at it that way, sure, fine. Nothing wrong with asking for help if you need it.”

  Lillian nodded her head in agreement but she saw that Damien was still angry and hoped it would pass. She understood why he was upset, why he didn’t want to feel like a charity case, but Damien would have to get over it if he really wanted to impress not only Alexei but anyone else at the club that could make them the stars they wanted to be.

  “So,” Michaela said slowly. “Who wants to see what I have?”

  Lillian smil
ed and kneeled at the trunk. When Michaela opened it, Lillian gasped. It was a sea of sequins and glitter.

  “The wealthiest of the wealthy visit this club to get out all of their fantasies. Attire is important,” Michaela explained.

  “Get out their fantasies?” Damien asked. “And all of those things are for girls.”

  “It’s a swinger’s club,” Michaela said. “You guys didn’t know or figure it out?”

  Both Damien and Lillian shook their heads. They probably should’ve figured it out when Michaela asked her questions yesterday. But with Lillian’s weird mood and Damien’s excitement for a real job, they never put two and two together.

  “Please don’t back out,” Michaela begged. “Alexei has had so many people back out because they don’t want to perform at a sex club. Even with the amount he offers, they get cold feet.”

  Damien cleared his throat. “So people will be there, doing whatever they do, when we’re performing?”

  Michaela nodded her head. “Yeah. But there’s a bar and seating area where you’ll be singing. No shenanigans go on there. Swingers have to go to the designated places.”

  “Can we join in if we wanted to?” Lillian asked. She was surprised when she asked the question and could tell from the looks of Damien and Michaela’s faces that they were just as surprised as well.

  “I suppose so,” Michaela replied. “You might have to pay the membership fee, though.”

  “And how much is that?” Damien said.

  “Five hundred per person.”

  “And people actually pay that?”

  Michaela nodded. “The club is owned by Alexei Lazarev. He’s one of California’s richest men. Everyone wants to be associated with him.”

  The three of them spent the next two and a half hours going through Michaela’s trunk. How she had clothing that exactly fit Lillian and Damien was a mystery. But Lillian had to admit, Michaela had amazing taste. The outfits they picked out were sure to make them fit in at the club.

  Lillian didn’t want to take off the red, sequined dress that hugged her curves and Damien couldn’t take his eyes off of her either.