Angel Seduced (14 page)

Kye gave Kasabian an empathetic look before turning to run her hand down Lyle's arm. “The lure of money can be very strong. This is about her, not you or Jonathan.” She looked at Kasabian. “From the outside, her little house was unassuming. Inside, she had a high-end surround sound system, a huge television. Everything I saw was first class. And no sign of a nursery. I told her she'd have to set up a room for Lyle before he could come back. She would have to dismantle her elaborate gym in the second bedroom.”

“I'm not going back to her.” Lyle's cheeks were blotchy, his eyes puffy. “But I am going to get my half brother or sister out of there.”

“And we will,” Kasabian said. “We'll crack open that whole place. At the moment, we have more immediate concerns. Silva said this would be over in a day or two, meaning sometime tomorrow. I don't think it's a coincidence that the solar storm effects are supposed to hit around the same time. Years ago, when I was in Treylon's captivity, he didn't have enough power to use the accumulated essences in whatever way he needed. Given the Crescent scientific theory that a major solar storm triggered the gods' ability to become physical in the first place, I think Treylon is hoping this one will give him the boost he'll need to pull off his scheme.”

Kye chewed the tip of her finger. “Which means we don't have much time.”

A few minutes later, they pulled into Harbor. Kasabian and Kye escorted Lyle back to his empty room. Lyle just stood there, the strain clear on his face. All it took was for Kasabian to put his hand on the kid's back, and he collapsed against him, sobbing. Kasabian had healed many a Crescent of heartbreak, had been torn in half by tears, but he'd never given physical comfort before.

Kye came up behind Lyle and pressed her cheek against his bony shoulder. She whispered words of comfort. It made Kasabian realize he needed soothing, too. Lyle turned into Kye's embrace, and she hugged him fully. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she held him.

Lyle finally gained control over himself and stepped back. “That was so not cool,” he said in a thick voice, rubbing away his tears.

Kye brushed his damp hair from his forehead. “You'll be stronger for it, not weaker.”

Lyle looked at her as though she'd caught
him
in Thrall. “I wish my mom were like you.”

Bittersweet sadness filled Kye's smile. “My mom's no loving cup either. We get what we're dealt. It's our job to make the best of it.”

Lyle gave her an imploring look. “Let me help with this. I need to help.”

Kye's smile was soft and regretful as she smoothed back his hair. “I know the feeling. But you're only a child, and we can't put you in danger.”

Kasabian kept his hand on Lyle's back. “I will let you help where it's safe. You'll have to trust me. I want to find him almost as much as you do.”

Lyle nodded, his eyes still wet. “I trust you.”

Those simple words made him smile. “Thank you.”

After they headed out, Kasabian walked to the Lotus's passenger side to open the car door for her.

Kye paused before getting in. “I trust you, too.”

She was close enough that he brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Now that's a mistake, love.”

Her mouth curved in a smile. “Mmm, it's ‘love' again.”

The endearment had slipped out, despite his order not to use it on her. “It rolled off my tongue that first night we met.”

“I figured you probably called every woman that.”

He could lie and say he did. But she'd just said she trusted him, and so in the end, he admitted, “I've never called any woman ‘love.'” He leaned against the roof of the car, facing her. “Don't look at me like maybe, just maybe, I'm not so bad because I let some kid cry all over me. I'm not good, Kye. I used you, made you lose your abilities, and I want to possess you despite all of that. And that's not even the Shadow part of me. Don't ever trust me, Kye.”

S
arai had been getting terrible feelings about Kye all morning. She'd been trying to call her for just as long. On the third try, Kye answered.

“Thank gods! Have you been ignoring my calls?” Sarai had to tamp down her ire.

“No, of course not.” Sarai could hear her friend's genuine contriteness. “I've just been, well, caught up in something.”

“Something called Kasabian?”

“We're involved in a…project.”

Sarai leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, is that what they're calling it nowadays?”

“It's serious. I don't want to drag you into this any more than you are. Excuse me for a moment,” Kye told someone and then a moment later said, “Look, Sarai—”

“I've been worried about you. Remember that forecast I got when you first met him? Well, I'm getting more. But I need to ask you something first, and I'm not being nosy. Did the first part of my forecast come true?”

Silence for a few moments. “You mean the good and hot and sexy part?” she asked at last.

“Yes. I need confirmation that I'm accurate. Because frankly, I'm a bit confused.”

Another moment of silence. “Yes. It was all of that, Sarai, and don't lecture me.”

Sarai closed her mouth on what would have been just that. She was concerned for her friend, for so many reasons. Kye had always been the levelheaded one. While Sarai fell in love willy-nilly, Kye was the voice of reason. To throw away her abilities, her sanity, to chase Kasabian and some
project
wasn't like her. She'd heard that Caidos could hold others in Thrall, and that had to be what Kye was under.

Kye broke into her thoughts. “I know it's hard for you to trust my judgment when it feels like I've gone off the deep end. I'm asking you to anyway. What are you seeing? No matter how crazy it sounds, I need to know. Maybe it could help.”

Sarai didn't trust her judgment, but she would tell her what she knew. “Are you dealing with any Dragons right now? Because I'm seeing some dark Dragon energy.”

“Sort of. Go on.”

“I still see you in a very bad place, and whatever's going on there is tearing your heart out. I keep getting the phrase ‘sleeping with the enemy.' Does any of that mean something to you? Particularly the ‘sleeping with' part?”

“Kasabian is not the enemy, and I'm certainly not sleeping with anyone else. That expression can mean working with the enemy, too.”

Sarai mulled that over. “Something about that phrase resonates. Yeah, working with the enemy will move things forward. That's what I'm getting, though I'm not sure what it means. What in the hell are you two up to?”

“I have to go, hon. Thank you. For the information and for your confidence in me. Let me know if you get anything else. I'll talk to you soon.”

Sarai sank down on her couch. Her best friend was sliding down a very slippery slope. Sarai needed to call in reinforcements if she was going to save her from whatever was at the bottom.

Hayden was about to drop from exhaustion. For hours, he'd been staking out the estate where he thought the Hummer was registered. It wasn't the same place where he'd found Kasabian being beaten. That would have been too easy.

The gate opened, and the black Hummer pulled out. Suddenly Hayden wasn't tired anymore. Was Jonathan inside? The windows were too dark to see anyone, but he thought he saw a head that was shorter than the rest in the backseat. He waited for several heartbeats and followed.

Fifteen minutes later, the Hummer pulled into the secured garage of the White Tower, an exclusive and secure high-rise with residences above the ground-level shops. The estate had been impossible to Leap into because of a barrier—the Tower would be even harder.

Kasabian had just updated him on their visit to the Bend. Or the Bent, as he heard Kye call it in the background.

The place had always given him the creeps, and he never knew why. Now he did. That boy who'd been sold and used, who still lived deep inside him, must have sensed that something wasn't right. Once they were finished with Treylon's operation, he was going to shut down that disgusting madness.

He called Kasabian and reported, “The Hummer finally left. I'm not sure if Jonathan was inside, but I have a feeling he was. I followed it to the White Tower.”

Kasabian took a second to digest that. “Where the Elders are rumored to live.” The elite group of the oldest Caidos. “Which makes sense, since at least one Concilium member is obviously involved in my father's scheme. The one who arranged for Jonathan to be taken from Guard custody. Find Jonathan and we find that person.”

Hayden leaned forward and scanned the side of the building that rose up some twenty-five stories. “Exactly what I was thinking. Other than the small issue of getting inside the most secure building in Miami. I was part of a team that responded when a Caido took a woman hostage here. Even then I had to be double cleared.”

“Come on, you're super Vega man. Are you saying that getting in is going to be a problem for you?”

Smart-ass.
“I'll just scale the outside and bust into one of the windows.”

“I have an easier way to get us in.”

“The super-secret password?”

“Yeah. Muse.”

Hayden curled his fingers over the bottom of the steering wheel. “Come again?”

“You've heard of Muses?”

“Only that they're a small group of female Caidos with that geisha mystique. From what I've heard, they're basically high-priced call girls who only service the Elders.”

Kasabian made some kind of grunting sound. “They're not
call girls
.”

“Sounds like they're just taking advantage of being a rare female and making men pay for it. Which makes them call girls.”

The Caido male who snagged a female Caido could manage to have a marriage, even a sex life, because Caidos couldn't sense each other's feelings. On top of that, they suppressed their emotions, so they felt no true desire and thus no pain. It ended up being more of a partnership, a way to perpetuate the small population of Caidos.

“They've been revered and protected by Caido Elders since the beginning of our kind,” Kasabian said. “They are treated like goddesses. If she sees a non-Elder as a client, he usually showers her with gifts. Men go to them to be inspired. They're like the Greek muses. And they live in the Tower.”

“And this helps us how? Because I don't know about you, but I don't have any Muses in
my
phone directory.”

“
I
do.”

Hayden slapped the wheel now. “You've been getting it on with some sex goddess, and you never
told
me?”

“We haven't been
getting it on
. Mallory and I kept running into each other at a coffee shop. We became friends, and she confided about the Muse thing. Before that, I thought they were high-priced call girls, too.”

“Hey, if she can help us get to that kid, I'll kiss her feet.”

“All right, I'll set up an introduction. Foot fetish then. Call you right back.”

“I hope you're kidding,” Hayden said, but Kasabian had already hung up. He sat back in the seat and released an impatient breath. Now that he'd potentially located Jonathan, it was hard to stay still and wait. A Muse would get him in. Figured. He didn't have anything against Muses morally. Well, maybe he did. He remembered the Crescent men who came to his mother's run-down apartment and paid for the novelty of fucking an angel. There were Caido men, too. She'd told him that the pressures of being one of the few females had messed her up. She never knew if a man wanted her for her or because she was Caido. So she sold herself and kept the boundaries clear. And her bank account full.

His phone rang. Kasabian.

“You're in. I told her you were desperate.”

“Nice. So I have to act desperately horny?”

Kasabian laughed, the bastard. “You've got to get the whole prostitute thing out of your head. I told her you're a writer, and you've been suffering major writer's block. You have a deadline, and you're desperate for inspiration.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I'll give you something to laugh about. You've got a couple of sex scenes you need help with because you're a virgin and have no idea what actually goes on. That should give you something to talk about until Kye and I can get over there. We got stuck in a traffic jam, so we pulled off so Kye could run into a Starbucks. I'll have to figure out another way to get to you, but it may be a while. You can start checking out the place. Maybe even find out if Mallory's seen any kids.”

“This is getting better and better. So I have to ask her about sex. That won't be awkward.”

“Buck up, my friend. You've been in tighter situations than this.”

Well, that was true. Hayden grunted and hung up. Great. Time to pose as a john. He wasn't buying the inspiration thing for a second.

The security guard at the desk checked his ID, then summoned another guy, who escorted him to the twelfth floor. Hayden wanted to knock the guy out and start exploring the floors, but he was sure the guard manning the security cameras would put a stop to that soon enough.

“Muses have panic buttons all over their condos,” the escort said in a droll voice. “If I have to come up, prepare to be hurt very bad. You do not pressure, coerce, or threaten the Muse. No pictures or video. And you do not leave the residence on your own. When you are finished, I escort you back down again. Understand?”

“Perfectly. But thanks for explaining it so well.”

The guy's eyes narrowed at Hayden's sarcastic comment. “You ought to be grateful she's seeing someone like you.”

“Like me? And what's that, exactly?”

The elevator door opened, and the man pointed for Hayden to go first.

“You're not coming in with me, are you?”

The guy ignored the question and pressed the doorbell. Pleasant chimes sounded on the inside. The door opened, and Hayden's first thought was, damn, Mallory had a helper or chaperone. The woman at the door wore little makeup, and her long, dark brown hair wasn't fluffed or arranged to be seductive. Her red jeans were tight enough to show toned legs and slim hips, but they didn't scream
sensuous
or
inspiring
.

“Welcome, Hayden,” she said, giving the escort a polite nod before gesturing for Hayden to come in and closing the door.

Hayden took in the spacious condo, then the windows that showcased the city beyond. The walls, painted in shades of light rose and beige, were punctuated by original paintings by a Caido artist known as Callo. Little was known about him, other than that he was reclusive, insanely talented, and painted scenes of exquisite sensuality. Painful sensuality. A song he'd never heard before played on the stereo, something he'd categorize as soulful electronica.

“Would you like a drink?” the woman asked. Her glossy hair draped over the swells of her breasts, concealing what little the loose black top revealed. “Absinthe?”

“Please. Is Mallory here?” Maybe she'd had to run out, which would buy him more time before he had to pretend.

Her mouth quirked. “I'm Mallory.”

“Oh.” The word drew out of his mouth, a long vowel of embarrassment and surprise. “I was expecting…”

“Flowing gown? Rose petals in my hair?” She went to work setting two bell-shaped glasses on the granite counter of an incredible custom wet bar situated off to the side of the living room.

He couldn't help smiling. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Sorry to disappoint. This kind of first encounter is unusual, but Kasabian is very persuasive. Usually it would be more like a business meeting. We discuss your goals, expectations, that sort of thing. If I accept you as a client, we decide on the specifics.”

“Is that a euphemism for sex?”

Her beautiful face remained placid as she poured liquid over a sugar cube, but the shimmer in her eyes spoke of fire and not ice. “I do not have sex with my clients at their whim. It is always my choice to proceed in that direction, and I rarely do.” She handed him one of the glasses, bringing with her the scent of the anise. “Kasabian did tell you about the nature of what I do, didn't he? And what I don't.”

“Sure, of course. I don't have, er, anything to offer. I understand that's customary.”

“It's fine. I don't require a gift. That's a very old custom.” She lifted her glass in a toast. “To your first time.” Their glasses touched. After taking a sip, her mouth curved in the slightest smile. “I'll be gentle with you.”

Something tickled through his stomach. Okay, he took it back. She
was
provocative.

The song was the perfect backdrop for Mallory. The female singer was asking why he couldn't like her like the other boys did. They stared at her, but she craved him.

“Interesting song,” he said. The syncopation of the bass line pulsed through his body.

“It's ‘Crave You,' by Flight Facilities. I like the Adventure Club dub mix.” She took another sip and swirled the liquid around in her mouth before swallowing. “So, Hayden, what is it that you want from me?”

He was annoyed to find the prickle of desire stampeding right down to his cock as his wayward mind supplied an answer or two. He trained his gaze behind her, to a picture frame that was turned away and out of view.

“Tell me why you do this.” He wandered over to the picture, turning it to see Mallory and a young girl on the beach. Both were covered in sand and grinning.

She followed him, taking the picture from his hand. The softness had left her eyes. She set the frame facedown with a
clack
. “Let's focus on your writing.”

Hayden couldn't miss the edge in her voice. “I'm just making conversation, getting to know you. As a writer, I'm interested in what motivates people.” He took in the things that probably weren't expensive gifts: a shell necklace dangling from a statue, a collection of feathers in a tall, fluted glass, and a picture of dolphins breaking the surface all spoke of the real Mallory. “What moves you?”