Wicked Hunt (Dark Hearts Book 3) (7 page)

Not that he’d said he wanted me still.

“You know, Zorie. From the minute we found you again, I’ve this inclination to punish you for running all those months ago.”

He what? The hellcat part of me wanted to spit...and yet the idea of Mavros laying a hand on me for such a reason had, for an exciting moment, made it hard to breathe. Confused, I chose the spitting. “Don’t you dare try. I wouldn’t let you do it and I can resist.”

Slowly Grimm sat up. “Bad idea.”

“I know. She’s a puzzle. I’ve never seen disobedience before.” He did up the button on his cuff. “Don’t worry, Grimm. It would take the two of us to make it happen.”

He left that hanging – a time-bomb threat, like he would, if he could. I could read between lines. This was the Mavros way of telling me not to write him out of the picture.

Months of being by turns angry, depressed, and lonely, and now I had these two men circling me, like dogs after a bitch on heat, figuratively speaking. It was so odd. When I’d curled up with them on the bed after that explosive sex...I’d been happy, content, as if I’d found home.

I probably needed electro-shock therapy.

“Clothes. Go.” He turned and walked toward the other room. “You’ve got one hour, at most.”

Arrogance, thy name is Mavros.

God that man annoyed me. Turned me on and annoyed me. Whereas Grimm was mostly a sweetie at heart. A sweet loveable guard dog, with big teeth.

I yelped as Grimm smacked my butt.

“Come on. You heard the man.”

I dressed in the bra and the slightly torn sari. Any Indian woman would be aghast at my draping technique, but I had nothing else to wear. My other sari had disappeared.

At least I found my sandals and my handbag, with my knife inside it, sheathed. Grimm and Mavros had nothing to fear from me anyway.

Johann

A new text message came in as I was feeding, watering, and about to take the pet for a walk. I put down the pail and leash and picked up the cellphone. No password access on this one, but I only kept it here, at the abandoned research center. No one was likely to come across it and read my strange messages, except Rudy. Kim Phuang sometimes sent actual men to check up on me but they were polite. Rudy and Kim had a drugs and smugglers relationship that went a long way back and was an anomaly for these times – based on trust and respect. Odd men. Maybe it was an older generation thing. I understood that.

The message was rambling, which tended to mean Nicholas was nervous. When in front of me, he’d been the same. He went on and on when he thought he’d done something wrong. Luckily for the CIA, he was only an encryption expert and not some fucking terminator sort.

They’d wanted him back after he ran. I’d helped him hide in India. He owed me.

And I could still turn him over to his masters at the drop of a hat.

I’ve heard collectors are planning to snatch the woman. Just gossip but if you still want her it might become impossible. If you only want the man, I think he may also be easier to persuade or catch if she is alive. What do you want me to do?

All that begged the question. How had they found out about her and how had Nicholas found out they knew? I’d long suspected he was talking to other collectors and not just spying on them.

The message had just come in, so if I was lucky, he’d answer a direct call.

The phone rang for fifteen seconds before he answered and I heard him clear his throat. Nervous yes. Obvious body language. The encryption expert man was so easily unencrypted himself.

“Hello?”

“What have you done? Did you tell them of the two I want?”

“I...no. I do have to talk to them to learn what they’re up to. Just that.

What, um, what do you want me to do?

I let the lie go past. I’d deal with it another time.

You think the woman is attached to the man?

Yes. On the footage, he and she seem close.

I want him, so do what you can to stop what they’re doing. Immediately.

I don’t know. I can’t intervene physically. I could warn them? The woman’s friends?

Do that. Then get hold of him. Tell him anything. If you’ve no success, I can arrange something this end.

Kim Phuang could smuggle people in, though I hated owing people. I shut off the phone. When the day had come to close down the facility, I’d acted. I’d seen what the infection could do.

I recalled the name on the gates, now faded and almost gone due to the sun and weather ravaging the paint:
The Center for Enlightenment.

Well, I’d damn well wanted to be enlightened. I couldn’t take the altered protein we’d fed Wolfe, but in my haste, I took orally the one last source available before the contractors cleaned up all my work and fed it into the fire. I took several slides of brain tissue from the cold storage unit and I licked off as much material as I could.

It hadn’t taken weeks, or months to develop. It’d taken years, fucking years.

I wasn’t sure when I became so addicted to seeing women obey my whims... I blamed the sex industry here. You could get anything done for you or done to others, almost. Sometimes, I wondered if I’d caught a mild dose of the infection naturally. That might’ve done it too. Yet since my youth, there’d always been something attractive about seeing a female grovel and lick my feet, and other parts.

It didn’t matter anymore how it’d happened. Thailand had been perfect for me, until I grew jaded. Then I’d connected with Einar. God, they’d sent me some beautiful specimens.

I’d fed my habit, that way, until, to my delight, I finally grew my own mental powers. Now I was like Nicholas. I could control some women, imperfectly.

I wanted more. Wolfe was a dangerous route. I couldn’t catch him without a SWAT team. This other though, this Grimm Heller, I could use him. He was fresh and he appeared to be something special.

The one collector I’d had brought to me had proved useless. My infection didn’t advance through using, consuming, injecting, more CSF fluid or neurological tissue. I had no means of experimenting properly and altering what I extracted either.

But a fresh, special collector...yes, promising.

I put the phone on the rusted table then picked up the leash and the pail of water. The cane I left where it was. I’d already woken her by rattling the cage.

Leaves crunched underfoot as I approached the cage where it hung at a bit below waist height.

She was still wild, at times, but today she’d be hungry, as I’d only walked her and watered her for two days. I poured some water into the steel bowl on the floor of the cage, the fluid cascading down through the mesh of the bars. I leaned into the cage and it swung under my weight.

“Here, Crystal. Come here. Food, water.”

She’d backed away to the far end, but behind me was a tray of food. Roast chicken and fried rice. The smell was thick in this dimly lit room. Dust haze drifted. One window was cracked, though not shattered. Somehow the bugs and spiders and leaves got in through the rusted-out ventilation ducts that aired into the ceiling. Dampened ceiling paneling had collapsed partway to the floor over some of this long room.

Once, this’d been a place for centrifuges and microscopes. Now it seemed half-jungle. Fitting, since it housed my wild girls. Today I had one. In a week, maybe, I could have two and a man to extract the prion from.

The muzzle made it difficult for her to talk loudly but I expected obedience. She
was
a collectable. Some weren’t but that only whet my appetite for the better ones. I couldn’t find the good ones often enough anyway. Kim sent me some of the lost tourists, ones who fell into drugged ways and couldn’t pay. Some I had to put down due to hepatitis or worse.

Like full collectors, I was resistant to STDs but found the idea of fucking a diseased pet quite disgusting. Even at fifty-nine my immunological status was superb. Perhaps I would live far past a normal lifespan.

Feeling my power tease a woman’s mind but not always latch on – that was frustrating. Now though, with this one, I thought I had her.

I paid Kim back for the pets with my medical expertise and a place to dispose of corpses. He didn’t seem to mind that my knowledge was veterinary and not human based.

Corpses. Which this one would be soon if she didn’t learn.

“Here!” I lowered the leash into the cage. “Put it on.”

Finally she came forward and clicked the leash to her collar.

“Be good.”

Once she was kneeling, I nodded and wound the leash tighter into the mesh. “Undo your muzzle and open your mouth. Tilt your head back.” The door behind me banged.

“Isn’t she ready?” Rudy called as he walked up. He’d whipped his straggly black hair into a ponytail for once.

Her mouth was open and I poured some water over her face and let her gulp down some.

“Unzip me.” I pushed myself close to the bars and felt her fumble then tug down the zip. I made her open her mouth again, with her face against the bars then I fed her some cock, sighing at the sensation of slipping fully inside her. She gulped and licked at me as I began to thrust in and out.

“She’s ready. Let me fuck her both ends, then you can have her.”

“Okay.” He watched greedily. “I’ll take her out here though, with her tied to the cage. Make her want me like crazy, like you do. I like them begging me, and all hot for my cock in them. Then I’ll walk her and feed her. Then...” He grinned. “We can both fuck her again.”

I laughed. “I’d swear you were already half collector. Soon, maybe you will be.”

My cock twitched as an unchecked thrill pulsed through it. “Stop,” I croaked. “Turn around and show me your cunt.”

The leather muzzle flapped down from her face as she turned on hands and knees. I pulled her legs partly through to get her up close and very personal. Already she dripped for me. It didn’t take long to train them when they were collectables. Pavlov’s dog had nothing on these pets who came and came on my cock, then cried for more.

This one was already looking off color. Her eyes were red, her breathing shaky. I was sure she’d been coughing when I came in. I didn’t like them ill. Wolfe would be hungry enough for another in a day or two. I’d give her some antibiotics then see how she responded.

Mavros

I left the phone on the chair’s arm where I could see if a text popped up. The sound was set on low – I hated the high-pitched trill this one spat out, but I’d be disposing of it soon anyway and hadn’t bothered fiddling with it.

“Three tickets all the way to Australia.” The sentence rolled off the tongue. Almost done. After all this time.

Going back to Zorie’s country would be strange. Even stranger if it was merely to say goodbye.

I felt...off. Had something had been overlooked? I didn’t believe in luck or fate or prompting bad events through the wrong actions, or even in premonition. The sense of unease hung around as if to mock me.

Life was never perfect. I’d learned that lesson well. Something might go wrong despite all the preparation I’d done, even prior to arriving in India.

I stared at the phone again then a knock sounded on the door. A muffled question filtered through, “This person is a maid, sir. Can she come in to collect the breakfast trolley?”

The sentence structure checked out. “This person is” was the code I needed.

I tapped out a text to the guard.
Let her in.

In most hotels, they waited for the room’s occupants to leave such things outside the door. Perhaps this one was different.

She wasn’t a young girl, as I thought she might be, but rather an older Indian woman. She shuffled over to the trolley where we’d parked it at the end of the bed. I rolled the phone in my hand, studying both the bright screen and the maid. She came closer, to the bedside table to retrieve a cup and saucer.

I rarely had a chance to talk to the average person anymore. Something about this situation – the country perhaps, since they had a reputation for gurus and mystical philosophy – prompted me to ask her to come over.

“Yes, sir?” she waited politely.

Her white-streaked hair seemed yet more evidence of wisdom. It wouldn’t hurt to ask and would fill in time while I waited for my reply. Watching Grimm and Zorie together had bothered me. I didn’t like the idea of letting him have her, of simply giving up, yet I recognized they might have something unique.

I tapped my finger on the edge of the phone.

“Have you a close family? Don’t answer this if it’s too personal.”

“I do, sir. A lovely husband and two very handsome sons. The oldest is a little younger than you, sir. I am guessing there and hope I’m not too presumptuous.”

Two sons. Perfect.

“No. of course it isn’t.” I sat forward. “I want to ask you another question? It’s not the sort of question you might get from a stranger, like myself, but rather the sort of question a son might ask his mother.”

My own mother would be horrified I’d taken so long to think about this.

Circumstances had meant I didn’t need to. And then, I did know the answer...or an answer. I just wanted to hear what another person thought.

She pursed her lips then wobbled her head from side to side in that Indian way I still found fascinating. “If you wish. I cannot guarantee a good answer but I will give you my best one, sir.”

“Here it is then. My question. What is love?”

“Hmmm.” She tapped the fingers of her steepled hands together. “That is a big question! I would say, sir...

“Love is...hmmm. When your heart is so big with feelings for another person that you cannot live without sharing yourself with them.” She inclined her head. “When you must protect them, care for them, and most importantly have children with them. A family.”

She beamed at me.

I laid the phone flat. “That’s a good answer. Thank you.”

“You are welcome, sir.”

It was the classic answer. Said nothing about wanting to fuck them eternally. I guess the family part implied that. I nestled back into the chair and rubbed my forehead. I needed a simpler life.

I could see Grimm and Zorie had something of love. A nice man would leave them be, let them figure out if it was so-called “true love”.

I wasn’t nice. Letting him just
have
her, without challenge, would be wrong. My jaw hurt and I realized I was tensing.

I wasn’t a nice man, but Grimm was. He was a rival, but logically he deserved her more than I did. I knew that and my gut instinct completely disagreed.

For years I’d run my psychology practice – my now neglected practice that was being run adequately by others. I’d taken the women who drew me to them with their susceptibility, fucked them when I wanted to, and kept going.

I’d never wanted to kill anyone until other mesmers had, in essence, killed my daughter. Then I’d found Zorie and made her my weapon, set her loose. The mayhem that’d caused. She’d found and killed the man I wanted dead. Even now I had a need to go see his house and I wished I’d witnessed his death. I’d imagined this news would bring such fierce satisfaction but it wasn’t there in my heart. There was a sad emptiness instead. I had closure but I craved more.

I
had
to let go. I would let go, though perhaps one day I would get his address from Zorie then I would go there and stand outside the building and stare until my hate ran down to nothing.

He
was nothing. Dead flesh.

I ran my hand through my hair.

The mess I’d made of Zorie’s life. It made me more determined to find her. I should’ve just kept her after Reuben but my need for retribution had been grinding on me. If I’d kept her, Grimm would’ve been a side note.

I wasn’t going to punch Grimm yet I wasn’t going to lie down and let him walk away with her.

I’d not seen what was in front of me – that Zorie wasn’t ever going to fade away and be simply a name on my list of acquired women. And if I’d not tried to find Phoebe’s killers, I’d have hated myself. It would’ve torn me apart.

Either way, I’d fucked up.

The phone buzzed with a text message.

From Nicholas. The man Zorie had found. I’d left him instructions to inform me if anything happened I needed to know. I hadn’t really expected anything. I tapped through to his message.

I’ve heard a rumor. Some mesmers plan to take your female friend. Soon.

Rapidly I swiped and tapped and sent a message to Grimm. My chest seemed locked in a vice and each letter took forever to find.

Return ASAP

Zorie is target

I pressed send.

Fuck grammar.
I sat straight, staring at the screen. I should’ve rung him, spoken. Should’ve.

I swiped to the phone app.