Theta Waves Book 1 (Episodes 1-3) (17 page)

She didn't care who it was, she only cared about the face in front of her.

She let go a load of spit onto her John's face and was gathering up more when Ezekiel grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her away.

She could've kissed him. She could have fallen to his feet and wrapped herself reverently around his legs. The gorgeous green eyes, the charcoal hair, the Taser in his hand.

She flew at him, curling her fingers into fists and letting them land wherever they would. His jaw, his chest, his nose. She had no idea she was crying until the snot ran into her mouth, and her vision blurred so much she couldn't see him anymore. She landed blows wherever she thought he was until her knuckles began to ache from the contact. Still it wasn't enough.

"How could you?" She sobbed. "How could you leave me here in this place? How could you bring me here?"

She was gathered into his arms just as her knees gave out. He held her tight against him, smoothing her hair, pressing her face into his neck, shushing her.

"It's okay,
minou
," he soothed. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

She couldn't stop the shaking. Even if she wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing herself against him as closely as she could, her body wouldn't stop trembling. She hated the sound of her teeth clicking together. She couldn't make any coherent sounds, let alone true speech.

He held her like that for a long moment until the man who had come in behind him cleared his throat.

"We need to do something with him," the man said.

Theda twisted out of Ezekiel's embrace and turned to his companion.

"It can't be," she said, gasping as she realized who it was.

"It is," her jailer said. He'd been the one who fed the godspit to her at the boutique.

"I don't understand," she started.

"You don't have to," the jailer bent over to grab the John's feet. "He's a heavy bastard," he grumbled. "

"Not just a heavy bastard," Ezekiel murmured. "A heavy councillor."

Theda looked at the man again. True, she wouldn't know a politician if she'd seen one up close, but his face did have a familiar look now that she was paying attention. Not that you care who her tormentor was, because she didn't. She didn't care one lick about him; he wasn't worth the energy interest needed.

She tottered to the bed and fell on it, watching the two with an almost dispassionate awareness as her jailer plucked a couple of smears from his pocket, pulled the strips off, and laid them on the man's tongue. It was too good for such a piece of shit, and she hoped he'd overdose on it, or at the very least have a hell of a withdrawal. She put her fingers to her temple; it wasn't fair that a man like him would get to enjoy a good 48 hours of pure bliss. She was the one that needed it.

"We need to get out of here," Ezekiel said.

"That' s the understatement of the century."

The jailer looked up from settling the councillor into a recovery position on the plastic.

"If you're going, you better get now before they shut the place down looking for you, besides, this piece of shit is going to want his money back when he comes to." He kicked the man in the stomach, releasing a groan from the man's mouth. She wished she had thought of that.

"Let's get moving, then," Ezekiel said to her. "We don't have much time to waste." He looked at the jailer. "Will you be okay, Eddie?"

Eddie nodded. "I'll leave buddy here on his plastic sheet. He didn't see me so I have no worries about him ratting me out when he does come to. About three days from now." He chuckled humorlessly.

"There's a woman," Theda said. "A redhead."

Ezekiel laughed darkly. "That's no woman; that's Sasha. We don't need to worry about him. I left him blissed out in his little boutique. Damn he's ugly when he drools."

"Sasha has an entire stable of spitters." Theda watched Eddie carefully as she said this, uncertain what he would do with this information out in the open.

Ezekiel nodded slowly. "Of course he does," he said. "It's the reason the den is so..." he fluttered his fingers thoughtfully. "Successful."

"We need to get them out of there."

He shook his head fiercely. "I don't think so, Theda. We're in enough danger as it is."

"Then one of them at least. There's a young girl in there who is about to get viciously murdered."

"That's her problem," Ezekiel said, making his way across the room and taking her by the hand.

She resisted. "But we have to –"

"Since when do you care?"

"I'm not monster," she protested.

We have to get out of here," Ezekiel said. "That's it. Do you want a repeat of what you just suffered? Would you like to see it come to pass because you wanted to help a girl who sold herself for a few smears of godspit?"

The way he said it burned in her chest. She shook her head numbly, already feeling the stress of the day thickening her tongue, shutting down her synapses. She hugged herself, trying to catch Eddie's eye as Ezekiel pushed her toward the door.

"She's okay for now, Theda," Eddie said. "The smear you slipped her was enough to keep her down long enough that we had to send someone else in her place." He looked at his watch. "Jack only visits about once a month. You've got some time."

She wanted to tell him to look out for her, to try and get her safe, but she knew he'd risked enough already. And she just couldn't think anymore, she didn't want to remember any of what had happened here. All she wanted was to get out. She kept hearing Ezekiel's words rattling around behind her ears, and she wanted away from those too. She needed air. She needed a smear or two.

They were at the door when Ezekiel paused.

"What?" She asked him.

He looked her up and down. "You can't go out there like that."

The costume. Of course.

"I thought you went to get me –"

His hands were on the bodice before she could finish the sentence. He ripped it neatly down the middle and pushed it off her shoulders. The entire gown puddled at her feet.

"The necklace too," he said. "And the shoes."

"I'm beginning to think you like your women barefoot," she said, trying to joke, but the thought that another girl had taken Salima's place, of the things that must have happened to her, made the smile twist into something that made her cheeks hurt.

"Don't think about it," Ezekiel said. "Don't think about any of it right yet." He stepped close enough to slip his arm around her back and pull her hips to his. The roughness of his jeans against her bare skin made her acutely aware that she would have to travel the entire spitter's den in nothing but her bra and panties.

"I can't do this," she mumbled.

"You can. I'll be with you the whole way. I won't let anything happen to you."

She nodded mutely and drew in a breath. She watched the pulse in his throat for a few seconds, counting the beats, focusing.

"Are you ready?" His voice was tender but urgent.

She moved to catch his eye, to let him know that she was ready, but his gaze was on her throat, lingering at that tender spot at the base. He seemed mesmerized for a moment before he shook it off and put his hand on the knob. He twisted, easing the door open as casually as a regular john would. Then in one deft movement, he lifted her into his arms, holding her beneath her knees and behind her back as he strode out into the hallway.

Theda didn't protest; she didn't think she could make her legs work anyway. She buried her face in his chest, not willing to see anything in the den anymore. She'd witnessed far more than she ever wanted to see again. If she kept her eyes closed, then none of it could touch her.

She felt his lips move against her hair now and then, almost as though he was trying to soothe away the thoughts within and when she clung to him all the more, he tightened his grip on her, walking ever more determinedly forward. By her measure, they had made it to the common room when he slowed his pace. Moans came from within, and shrieks of pleasure, enough heavy breathing to make a porn star blush.

"Almost there," he said into her hair. "I think you better walk from here." He eased her onto her feet, holding her gaze has he waited for her to steady herself. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Don't leave me."

His throat convulsed as she watched him, waiting for his response. She couldn't go any further on her own. She would completely break down if he left her now. And yet something in his manner made her afraid that was exactly what he was planning to do.

"I won't leave you," he said huskily. It must've taken a great effort for him to agree because he looked away as he said it, unwilling or unable to keep her eye. Still, it was enough for Theda. She took a deep breath and stepped into the common room.

Before she was three steps within it, he had grabbed her from behind and was pulling her into his arms, one broad hand cupping her ass and the other cupping the nape of her neck, forcing her mouth against his. She lost her breath to his as he kissed her.

It made no sense, but the tightness of her chest, the way her stomach fluttered, the way both of those things needed to be relieved couldn't be argued with. She melted against him, tangling her arms around his neck, letting her fingers creep up into his hair.

His lips broke from hers as he trailed kisses across her cheek to nibble at her earlobe.

"We need to blend," he said against her ear. "There's a henchman in here."

She nodded, feeling drunk from fear and a strange sense of heightened passion.

With an ease that surprised her, he pulled her along with him a few paces. She opened her eyes, watching him settle onto a chair just within the doorway and to the right of half a dozen people enjoying each other in ways Theda didn't. She was sure before he pulled her down onto his lap, encouraging her to lean forward, that she saw one woman's entire hand disappear into another woman's sex. Her eyes flew two Ezekiel's face, but his eyes weren't on hers, they were hooded and scanning the room carefully.

"You're doing fine," he said against her mouth as he claimed it again.

By now his hands were roaming her body, lighting her skin. The sounds around her, of the moans and begging for release only heightened her own need, except that beneath the primal sense of release was the very real threat of discovery. She wasn't sure which of those was the one that drove her hands beneath his shirt, stretching her fingers for his nipples, thinking to pinch each one, to thumb them to hard stubs, but she let them roam and do what they would.

She could feel his erection as she pressed closer, and the speed of his breath had shifted. It broke against the skin of her neck like waves battering the shore. His Palm moved beneath her bra and rubbed against her nipples before cupping them, lifting them, squeezing them.

"Almost there," he said into her ear and his voice was a tight, husky thing that pulled a moan from her throat. In another circumstance, she might think that it meant something different, but she was acutely aware of the danger moving about the room, hopefully doing nothing but a cursory inspection of the patrons.

One of the women in the group beside them took notice of Ezekiel. She leaned over, slipping her hand beneath Theda's bra and overtop Ezekiel's hand. She helped him squeeze harder then let her fingers slip down Theda's torso, seeking entrance beneath the thong. This time it was Ezekiel who groaned and for one second his eyes met Theda's. She saw hunger in his gaze just long enough to believe that it was for her, but then the woman leaned in, blocking him from view, and plunged her tongue into Theda's mouth.

Ezekiel's thighs twitched beneath her bottom. She tried to close her eyes, to pretend to enjoy the kiss, but she was aware of someone behind her and knew in that moment that they were being inspected. She heard Ezekiel's throaty voice urging the woman on and had to force herself to remember that it was an act, that everything here was for show. That the show meant her very life.

"That's it, baby," he said. "Now touch your pussy for me, show me like it."

Theda was paralysed by his vulgarity, but thankfully the woman responded immediately, lending credence to the act. She withdrew her hand from Theda's thong and sucked at her bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth and licking it. Theda tasted each moan as the woman rocked against her own hand, each burying of her fingers forcing a new sigh into Theda's mouth. She thought she heard Ezekiel groan aloud even as she felt his hands urge her against his cock. Aware of the presence behind her, Theda ground into it, until he grasped at her from behind, yanking her from the stranger and claiming her tongue for his. Her heart raced hard enough that she could swear it would burst. Every inch of her body was on fire, and yet every fibre was alive with fear.

He cupped her face with both hands, twisting her face so that her ear was next to his mouth.

"We're good," he said. "He's moved on. It's time to go."

He might have thrown a bucket of water on her, but she did as he bid her. She got to shaking legs, working hard to force her muscles forward. He wrapped an arm around her waist, reaching with his other hand to take her fingers. They could have been longtime lovers, picking their way home after a much-needed night of debauchery and hedonism. She wasn't sure why her face was wet, or why her nose had clogged up so much that she could barely breathe, but she made the trek with him through the room, down the hallway, into reception with her eyes watching the floor at each step.