Dark Desire (11 page)

“Someplace where
we won’t be interrupted,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“You can’t do
this. It’s illegal,” she argued. Her memory may be toast in regards to her
past, but she knew her rights thanks to
Cici
. Her
friend learned all about due process being a prostitute in her youth.

The piercing in
his left eyebrow rose above his shades, and his lips thinned with tension. “I
can do anything I want with you,
Laris
. Human rights
hold no sway over me or dark breeds in general. Whatever I do to you is well
within my rights.”

A shiver of fear
skittered down her spine at his coldly delivered words. “You think I’m not …
human?”

He gave a
humorless bark of laughter, which did nothing to relieve the anxiety she felt
building in her chest. His fingers left her arms, latching onto her chin. His
grip was firm, but not painful as he lowered his face mere inches from hers.
“Stop right now,
Laris
. Playing stupid won’t help. I
fucking know you for what you are now and won’t be so foolish to fall for your
little game.”

Anger surged to
the surface, burning away her fear.
“Game?
Listen
here, asshole, I don’t know who this
Laris
person is,
but I can understand why she stuck a knife in you. My name is Lori. I’m human
and an exotic dancer. You got the wrong woman, you ...
jerk
.”

Or does he?
The question echoed in her mind,
taunting her.

“Bullshit.” He
snarled the word at her, his warm breath caressing her cheeks. The fresh tang
of mint reached her nose making her nostrils flare as she breathed him in
despite her struggle not to. “Stop trying to play me. The game is over, and you
lost. You have the choice to die by my hand or by the
Atlantean
assassins who know where you are. Believe me,
wife
, you would prefer death by my hand than to be subjected to
their tender mercies. They have quite a grudge against you. No one attempts to
assassinate the king’s son and stays breathing.”

Her mind reeled.
King …
Atlantean
trackers … as in
Atlantis?
But it was the last word that sent an icy tendril of fear to
scurrying down her spine. The man had to be certifiable!

She yanked her
head to the side breaking his hold on her and took a step back. “Look, I don’t
know who you are, honest. I don’t have any memories up to seven months ago when
I found myself in the alley behind Golden Gulch. That name you keep calling me
is not familiar. The only thing I know for sure is I wouldn’t harm anyone
unless it was self-defense. I’m not a killer.”

He barked out a
harsh laugh, his words laced with venom as his lip curled into a sneer.
“There is no such thing as a peaceful
Lemurian
.
You are all killers. It’s in your nature to war and take what you want by
force.
Leaving nothing but devastation and ruin in your
wake.”

She really
didn’t know what to say to that one. His hate chilled her skin, the air so
thick with his animosity she could barely pull in enough air into her lungs.
The room closed in on her making her head swim. She needed to get away from
this madman who just told her he had every intention of killing her.

“I’m just a
damned stripper.” Her voice shook with fear and desperation. “Please let me go.
I won’t call the cops. Just let me go … please.” The words didn’t come easy to
her, nor did the fear she felt coursing through her like icy sludge threatening
to immobilize her.

“Save it.” He
bit out, his face as hard and implacable as stone. “You just don’t get it, do
you? Nothing you say will make a damn bit of difference. Your ass is mine, and
I alone will decide how long you live and how much pain you exist in. Face it.
You’re screwed, so save your breath.”

His movements
blurred as he once again closed the space between them and gripped her arm,
tugging her through the living room and down a hallway, and past several closed
doors along the way. He opened the last one on the right, shoving her into
bedroom. Nothing but a bed, white walls and old battered dresser adorned the
room. An old brass pot stood near a wall, but it was the chains attached to
thick metal manacles bolted to the wall that made her heart stutter within her
chest. Her throat dried up as terror on a level she never knew existed took
hold of her with unrelenting force.

A scream bubbled
out of her throat as he shoved her back against the chains. She fought with
every ounce of strength she possessed, kicking and clawing at his unprotected
face and throat, but he proved too quick and jerked away from her in time. Her
nails only caught air.

He snatched one
wrist, attaching the cuff, then the other, effectively subduing her arms. Her
foot slashed out, but again he maneuvered out of harm’s way by simply stepping
back. She struggled to break the manacles, the chains only giving her a few
precious inches of freedom.

“Let. Me. Go.”
She snarled the demand feeling anger rise deep inside, burning away the
paralyzing fear from only moments before.

“I don’t think
so. You can scream all you want. This room is soundproof.” He shook his head
and walked to the door.

“Wait, what am I
supposed to do if I have to go to the bathroom? You can’t just leave me like
this.” She spat the words out, the taste of bitterness sharp on her tongue.

His gaze moved
to the pot near her feet. “I’m sure you will find some creative way to relieve
yourself. Not my problem.”

She shrieked,
hurtling curse words at his retreating back and continuing long after he closed
the door after him.

****

What in the name
of Poseidon was he going to do now?

Zeke paced in
front of the living room window, his fingers spearing into his short hair with
agitation. Could she really have no memory of her actions? And if so, who would
take those memories from her and for what purpose? What if she had
intentionally had her memories wiped, keeping her conspirators safe from
detection?
Too damned many questions without answers.
They slammed around in his brain with the force of a wrecking ball. Removing
his shades, he pinched his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose,
trying to ease the pounding in his head.

Nothing it
seemed was simple these days. Grab the traitorous bitch and slit her throat?
Quick, clean, and easy.
Not a chance.

All it took was
one look into those dove grey eyes filled with fear and confusion and he felt
like a bastard. Her flawless skin glowed in the streetlights the color of
burnished copper, her long ebony hair glinting with blue fire. Her body clothed
in low riding jeans and a pale pink cropped top enhanced her curves, making his
mouth water just at the sight.

He wanted his
mouth on her licking and suckling every perfect inch, making her
scream
his name as she found her release. His cock hardened
at the thought of sinking into her tight core, her muscles holding him tight
inside of her…

He cursed,
shaking his head to remove the picture his imagination painted.
Laris
was a lying, murdering bitch. He needed to remember
what she did; he could never forget how dangerous she really was. How he could
never trust her. His hand went to his chest, rubbing the puckered scar near his
heart beneath the cotton t-shirt he wore.
A constant reminder
of her betrayal.

If she thought
to play him for a fool then she had a very unpleasant shock coming.
And if she spoke the truth and didn’t remember her crimes?
Well, there were ways of ferreting out the truth. Either way, it promised to be
an unpleasant experience for her.

The thought
didn’t fill him with the satisfaction he expected. He had done nothing but
dream of this moment, when he finally caught up to her. Pictured how everything
would go down to every last detail. Unfortunately, reality couldn’t be further
from his expectations.

Somehow he found
himself back at the door to her makeshift prison, unsure how the hell it happened,
but shit. Here he stood, and for the first time in his long life he didn’t have
a plan on how to proceed. Could she be telling the truth?
As
far as she
knew
anyway.
His
gut churned with too many mixed emotions. His head throbbed with a tension headache
from hell, and he didn’t have any information to make an intelligent decision.

The high octane
notes of Metallica screamed through the silent apartment, coming from his cell
in the living room. With another curse he retreated from the door as if hellhounds
nipped at his heels.

“What?” he
gritted out.

“Well, guess it
was another empty lead. It sure looked like her though,” Tegan drawled into his
ear.

“No, I have her,
here at my condo.”

A long pause
with only breathing filled the line before Tegan spoke. “Okay, you spoke in the
present tense, so she is still alive I take it.”

“Yes, for now.”

“Well, Mr.
Talkative, do you mind telling me why she is still taking up air?” Tegan’s
caustic tone grated on Zeke’s last nerve.

“Says
she has no memory of anything up to seven months ago.
If that’s true
we have a serious problem.”

“No shit. I’m
going to be a dick here and state the obvious. She’s lying, playing you to buy
time to get free.”

“Don’t you think
I know that?” Zeke growled, anger and frustration mixing into a lethal cocktail
ready to combust.

“
Look, that
should be easy enough to find out. She worked at
Golden Gulch, so I can ask around about her. Chances are good someone will
spill what they know if enough cash gets spread around.”

“And
in the meantime?
Am I going to just let her hang around on the wall?”

“No fucking way,
you put her in those manacles?” Tegan barked out a laugh. “Damn, buddy, my
respect for you went up another notch.”

For some reason
Zeke didn’t feel proud at all. No, he felt sick to his stomach. “Just find out
what you can as soon as you can. If she
is
telling the truth, and that’s a big if, then we have a much larger
problem on our hands than what to do with
Laris
.”

Tegan’s tone
turned deadly. “I’m on it now. Don’t worry, one way or another I’ll get the
info we need. Just hang in there for a little longer and don’t kill her just
yet.”

“Yeah, great,
I’ll restrain myself,” he retorted drily. “Just get the damn info as quickly as
possible. I don’t like this, Tegan, and something tells me time isn’t our
friend right now.”

As Zeke
disconnected one thought ran through his mind in a continuous loop. Maybe he
had it wrong after all. Perhaps he was the one screwed with no hope of getting
out of the mess he found himself in.

Chapter Twelve

Christophe would
not wait a moment longer.

With single
minded purpose he barged into Marcus and Tamara’s suite of rooms, not bothering
to knock. Strung too tight to bother with social niceties. He’d spent all night
and the better part of the day looking for any trace of Cody.

And found
nothing.

No trace, not
even a small blip on the radar. A disappearing act the magicians on the strip
would give a limb to learn. No one just vanishes without a trace. Something had
gone down, and Cody was in the middle of it, needing backup right the fuck now!

Christophe only
cared about getting his buddy back. His gut told him whatever happened to Cody
was far from good. His instinct never lied. A curse came from
Tambra
as she was firmly placed behind Marcus’s huge body.
Their leader scowled, his dark eyes glinting with flashes of red. Christophe
didn’t need a neon brick to land on his head to know he just intruded on an
intimate moment between the two. He noticed Marcus’s t-shirt on the floor with
another much more feminine shirt tangled with it.

Damn, not a good
way to get his leader to help.

“You have three
seconds to turn around, or I swear to the gods I’ll tear your eyes out with my
bare hands.” Marcus growled low, his lip curled up to show one very large fang.

Whipping around
Christophe stared at the door while he heard rustling of clothes behind him.
“Ah, yeah, sorry about just barging in.
I didn’t think. It’s
just Cody is gone.”

“What do you
mean by gone?”
Tambra
demanded.

“We were
supposed to meet at The Asp. He called around eleven, but never showed up. I’ve
been scouring the city looking for him, but so far there’s not a trace.”

“You can turn
around, Christophe,” Marcus ordered. “Do you know where he was last?”

Christophe
turned and met his leader’s concerned gaze, unable to look at
Tambra
. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d
failed her. Hell, everyone knew how close the two of them were. They had been
partners for years at Metro. “In old town on Seventh is as close as I could
pinpoint. His cell was found near a dumpster, the GPS still active.”