“Burke gave me your
message, from when you called earlier.”
She frowned. “I didn’t
call you.”
“This small piece of
paper says that you did, and you wished to meet me in the bar at midnight.”
“Lucan, I never called or
left that message.”
“Give me a moment.” Lucan
then called for his
tresora
.
Sam tucked the receiver
between her cheek and shoulder as she pulled on her jacket.
“Darling,” Lucan said,
“Transfer me over to Rafael if you would.”
“He’s still out hunting
Jamys.” She switched the receiver from one ear to the other. “Who does Burke
say left that message?”
“You need not concern
yourself with—”
“Fluffing me off hasn’t
worked since I was human,” she reminded him. “Tell me.”
“As you wish.” Lucan
sighed. “Burke swears on a stack of good books that he spoke to you an hour
ago.”
“An hour ago I was on the
phone with Europe,” she said. “Nice people, the Dutch. Very helpful.”
“Burke must have made a
mistake.” Lucan sounded remarkably unconcerned.
Sam knew Lucan’s
tresora
, his most
trusted human servant, didn’t make mistakes. Not only had Burke and his
family had been in service to the Darkyn for centuries, but he took his
duties very seriously. He was also utterly devoted to Lucan, and would have
set himself on fire before he allowed anyone to get at the suzerain.
Which was what was
happening. Someone was trying to get to Lucan, and he knew it, and he didn’t
want her to know about it. Sam could hear it in his voice. “Ask Burke what
line the call came in on.”
Lucan did, and then said
to her, “The main number to my office downstairs.”
Which Sam never used. She
grabbed her car keys. “I want you out there. Now.”
“I think not.” Lucan’s
drawl took on a hard, cold edge. “I shall deal with this. You will stay
downtown.” He hung up before she could tell him to go to hell.
Sam dialed Rafael’s
number as she hurried out to the employee parking lot. As soon as he
answered, she said, “Someone pretending to be me is meeting Lucan at the
club at midnight. How far away are you?”
“We are at young Chris’s
apartment.”
She unlocked and jerked
open her car door. “Tell her to stay there and meet me at
Infusion
. Now.”
“Chris is gone, and so is
her vehicle,” Rafael said. “Jamys Durand’s scent is all over the apartment.”
Sam froze. “He took her
from the apartment?”
“That or she invited him
in and left willing with him,” her partner said. “That is more likely, my
lady. She is a friendly child, and sympathetic to him.”
“She’s an idiot and I’m
going to kill her,” Sam promised.
“That is not our concern
now.” Rafael’s tone changed. “If our lord is in danger, he must be our first
priority.”
She knew he was right,
but she didn’t have to like it. “I’ll get to the club before you do and see
what’s going on. Send all the men in.”
“Do not try to get
between Lucan and this intruder,” Rafael warned. “If he is as powerful as
our lord, you will only get yourself hurt.”
Sam put on her emergency
lights and used them to speed downtown. Along the way she took out the vial
of bone marrow from her pocket and thumbed off the top. Placing the open end
against the gunshot scar in the center of her palm, she turned the vial
over.
As soon as the fluid
touched her scar, it invoked her talent, which allowed her to see through
Wilson Carcher’s eyes during the last minutes of his life. The first thing
she saw was Luce Figueroa’s face. The missing girl lay under her, her face
blank and her eyes staring up at the ceiling, her body bobbing back and
forth against damp sheets. Sam shuddered as she realized Wilson was having
sex with the girl by penetrating her with strap-on. The device didn’t repel
her as much as the grinding motions Wilson was making with it, as if he were
some kind of screwing machine trying to get as deeply inside the girl as he
could. Two blank-faced boys stood on either side of the bed, their trousers
open and their fists working up and down their erections.
Wilson climbed off Luce,
unstrapped the artificial cock and watched as the two boys ejaculated on
Luce’s breasts and face. Their semen mixed with tears from the girl’s eyes.
Why
do you weep, pretty girl?
He was only thinking the words, but somehow Sam knew Luce could hear them
just as well as if they were spoken.
This is what you wanted. Was it not enough? Shall I fuck you again?
Sam didn’t know how she
knew it, but the psychic voice didn’t belong to Wilson Carcher – as if his
mind and body were clothes that the voice dressed itself in. She also sensed
Luce, trapped somewhere inside that mask of a face, was also being
controlled by the voice. The girl was still inside her head, however, and
screamed silently through the revulsion and hopelessness in her eyes.
Sam felt nauseated, and
pulled over, switching off the emergency lights. As soon as she did the
images took over her vision, blinding her to everything else except what
seemed to be the last hours of Wilson Carcher’s life. He dressed in his
leisure suit, taking care to bind down his breasts and stuff his crotch with
another fake cock. As he did, he also watched Luce get up from the bed and
pull on a sparkling red dress. She didn’t attempt to wipe the semen from her
face or body.
We
will go out and have dinner
,
Wilson thought to Luce.
I
will show off my new pretty girl to the world, and then you may climb under
the table and use your mouth to pleasure me.
Sam followed them out of
the hotel room, down a flight of stairs crowded with boxes and heaps of
tarps, and out of plywood-covered doors into the night. They walked north
until they reached a traffic light, and Wilson turned to see Luce staring
into the street.
Who
is that? A pretty boy?
Sam saw Jamys Durand
sitting in the limo with Chris, who had stopped at a red light. He was
staring back at Luce, who must have had some effect on him, for his pupils
shrank to black slivers.
Wilson seemed almost
pleased.
You
cannot have that one, pretty girl. He is one of my kind.
Through some impossible
surge of will, Luce broke free of the voice for a moment and stepped down
from the curb, walking in front of taxi that just stopped short of running
her down.
I am
not done with you,
Wilson screamed into
Luce’s mind.
Come
back to me at once.
Luce did the exact
opposite, turning away from him and heading back south along the strip.
Wilson didn’t seem disturbed by it, however, and continued on into the
restaurant. Sam could feel a spreading numbness inside as he walked into the
men’s room and took out the blade he was carrying. At the same time,
whatever presence was in his mind began to fade.
You
were a good child, Wilma.
Wilson drew the blade over his wrists, opening his veins. A mist of red
blood escaped through the cuts and formed a cloud in front of him.
I
shall miss you.
He
then used the knife to cut his own throat.
The cloud shrank in on
itself and seeped out of the small window while Wilson fell to the floor,
the knife skidding away out of sight behind the trash bin. As the presence
vanished, Sam felt the body rapidly decaying, and heard a single thought
flashed across what little was left of Wilson’s mind before it shut down.
Free.
#
As Lucan stripped off his
gloves and walked out of the elevator, he wondered which enemy would be
waiting for him at the bar. Whoever had entered his territory might have
heard that Lucan had given up his role as Richard’s pet assassin and had
vowed not to kill again. Perhaps the fool considered that a measure of
safety that would protect him while challenging Lucan inside his own
stronghold. This unknown lord had made a serious tactical error by coming to
here, but he had in essence committed suicide by pretending to be Samantha.
Burke had followed his
orders and cleared out the mortal patrons and the staff, except for one lone
redhead sitting on a stool and sipping a martini. As soon as Lucan smelled
her, his tension grew. He didn’t need some bloody mortal female getting in
the middle of this.
He was only mildly
surprised when she turned and he saw her features. Alisa had been in his
employ until he met Samantha, and had provided him with regular relief. When
love had destroyed his common sense, he had broken off their arrangement.
“You must leave here at once, my dear.”
Alisa set down the
martini. “My master sent me to bargain with you,” she said in a low, flat
voice.
“If I recall, you serve
many masters.” Lucan saw how dilated her pupils were. “But perhaps you will
tell me more about this one.”
“My master was not aware
of your presence until after our arrival. Apologies are made for the
intrusion.” Alisa slid off the stool and began walking around the club.
“This is an imaginative place. You must attract many humans each nightfall.
My master envies you.”
Lucan didn’t think her
speech was rehearsed, but decided to switch from speaking modern English to
a more archaic tongue that Alisa could not have understood. “Name your
master, and the reason for which he sends you here.”
“You have seen through
me, then,” Alisa replied in the same forgotten language, her voice much more
animated now. She also acquired a thick eastern European accent. “I am come
to bathe in beauty, Golden One. That is all.”
“You are in my territory,
using my humans without my leave,” Lucan said, following her. “You will
release this mortal, and all the others under your sway, and I may yet allow
you to live.”
She laughed with delight.
“You speak with such arrogance. How young you are.” She turned to look at
herself in the mirror behind the bar. “Come out, my children.”
Burke stepped out of
Lucan’s office.
He barely glanced at his
tresora.
“Not now,
Herbert.”
Burke didn’t reply or
stop walking toward Alisa. He stopped to stand behind her, his eyes and
expression blank. From the office and the supply room and behind the bars,
more of Lucan’s mortal servants appeared. They walked in silence and
gathered around the prostitute, forming a wall of bodies.
“Herbert,” Lucan said
carefully. “You belong to me. You serve me. Get away from that woman.”
His
tresora
didn’t
move.
“Your man had a stronger
will than the others,” Alisa informed him. “It took me near half an hour to
bring him around. It is a bit easier when they have need, like this one’s
craving for oblivion.” She patted her own cheek. “When they are wanting,
then they give themselves to me almost at once. Once I bathe in their
beauty, then they are mine forever.”
Two young human males
entered the club. Between them they dragged a struggling young female –
Samantha’s friend, Chris.
“Let me go.” Chris
writhed as she tried to fight free of their hold. She stopped when she saw
Lucan. “Luc, help me.”
In spite of himself, he
took a step toward her.
“Stay where you are, my
lord,” Alisa warned, “Or I will have Gerald and Stephen snap her neck.”
Each of the boys holding
Chris seized her throat with one hand.
“An impressive show of
talent,” Lucan said, sounding bored. “But not one I find particularly
threatening. You may, of course, kill as many of my mortals as you wish.
They are rapid breeders. I can always acquire more after I find you and
scatter your remains to the winds.”
“Lucan,” Chris gasped,
her young, pale face appalled.
“What of your lady
Samantha?” Alisa inquired sweetly. “Burke was kind enough to tell me of the
great love you have for your
sygkenis
. Can you
replace her so easily?”
“She can’t get to Sam,”
Chris shouted. “She can only do this to humans—” she choked as the boys
holding her tightened their hands on her neck.
Light bulbs began to pop
in their sockets, sending down showers of sparks as Lucan’s eyes narrowed.
“You do not touch Samantha and live.”
“I do not have to, my
lord.” Alisa glanced at Burke, who took out a pistol and raised it in a
shaking hand. Sweat poured down his face as his lips pressed together, and
his expression turned to one of pain, but then Alisa rested a hand on his
shoulder, and Burke fired.
The copper round caught
Lucan in the upper arm, knocking him back against the bar. When he found his
footing, he grabbed his shoulder and felt the bloody holes on both sides,
indicating that the copper round had gone through and out of his flesh.
“That is what one mortal
who reluctantly serves me will do,” she said as she took the gun away from
Burke. “Imagine how efficient three hundred who have given themselves wholly
over to me are.”