The Plume: The Second Anthology (37 page)

When he slid his fingers out, she flailed
with new force, panting as she fought against him.

“Maybe we should start today,” Eric said,
capturing her waist in his hands and pulling her butt back toward
his crotch. “The first time’s the hard one. In a couple of days,
you’ll be begging for more.”

Joanna tried to bellow and escape, then just
as Eric had anticipated, she fainted.

She fell limp across the leather box. Eric
surveyed her enticing butt, heaved a sigh, then took a pair of
folding scissors out of his pocket. Unconscious was too submissive
for him.

Lucky for Joanna.

Eric cut the cable tie holding her wrists
together, then the one binding her ankles, and unfastened the ball
gag. She was limp and luscious, still out cold when he carried her
to the bed.

He surveyed her, then shook his head in
anticipation of what he was going to do. “I should be sainted for
this,” he muttered to himself, then went to the coffee table to
choose more comfortable bonds for her. He didn’t know what she’d do
when she came to, so it was only responsible to ensure that she
couldn’t hurt herself.

Because he wasn’t going to have Joanna again,
not even once. She was Mike’s, even if he had to remind both of
them of that simple fact and orchestrate their reunion.

Eric was a fucking fairy godmother, doing his
damndest to make wishes come true.

No one he knew was ever going to believe
it.

* * *

The black stretch limousine slid into an
abandoned parking lot adjacent to the harbor. There had been
potholes in the road on the way in, and Leya hadn’t seen a sign of
life in blocks.

There were probably rats, though, if not
other predators in the vicinity.

The lot was littered with chunks of broken
concrete and rusted rebar poked out of the asphalt along one side.
A one warehouse had been partly demolished on one side, and what
remained was crumbling to dust. There were rusted oil cans tumbled
inside the broken walls of the warehouse, and Leya didn’t want to
know their contents. The lot was dark, the river a slice of
midnight directly ahead of them. The lights of the city seemed
remote.

And there were no police cars behind
them.

Rafe stopped the car six feet from the lip of
the lot. Beyond, the river moved slowly, its surface slick with oil
residue.

They got out of the car as one, and Leya knew
she wasn’t the only one who guessed Rafe’s plan. He left the engine
running, a steady purr that broke the silence of the night. Rex
checked the back seat, running his hands along the seam where the
back of each seat met the bench, but he found nothing. Rafe opened
the trunk, running his hands over the surfaces as he checked.

“Clean,” Rafe said.

Rex was already in the other front seat,
opening the glove box. “You always kept it spotless,” he said with
approval and Rafe smiled. Rex grabbed everything in the glove box
and shoved it into his messenger bag. He checked under the seats
and behind the visors, then stood back to admire the limo. “I
remember when we bought it.”

“It’s been a good car,” Rafe agreed.

Leya looked back over her shoulder toward the
city, distrusting the silence. “Too bad there’s no time to file
down the serial number on the engine,” she said, feeling the need
to inject some practicality.

Her words gave both men a visible start.

“We’d better hurry,” Rex said, giving the
limo one last pat.

Rafe tossed his hat into the passenger seat.
Leya realized that without it, he didn’t appear to be in a
chauffeur’s livery: he was just a handsome man dressed in black,
albeit one wearing sunglasses at night.

Then he peeled off the rest of his clothes,
piling them quickly on the edge of the pier, placing his sunglasses
carefully on top. He got into the car in his briefs, and opened the
sunroof. Rex gave him a thumbs up as he put the car into
reverse.

Dust rose when Rafe braked fifty yards away.
There was only the purr of the engine and the brilliant gleam of
the headlights.

Until he turned the lights off.

Leya thought she heard an approaching siren,
and she heard Rex catch his breath. He gave Rafe a thumbs up and
the engine revved. The tires churned on the asphalt and gravel flew
as the car fishtailed on the rubble.

It raced toward them, shot past and off the
end of the pier, sailing out over the dark river.

It seemed to Leya that the limo leapt off the
lip of the parking lot in a noble gesture, as if it were fully
aware that its demise was for the best. It certainly floated for a
moment, long enough for Rafe to haul himself out of the sunroof. He
stood on the roof until the limo sank enough that the water was up
to his knees, then began to swim toward the pier.

Rex dropped to his belly and stretched out a
hand, because there was no ladder on this concrete dock. Rafe
grabbed his hand and Rex pulled him out of the river. Rafe shook
like a dog and bent to claim his clothes.

“We should split up,” Rex said, some
uncertainty in his tone. He felt responsible for Rafe, Leya
guessed. Rafe was quickly getting dressed, donning his sunglasses
so fast that she never did catch a glimpse of his eyes.

“Don’t worry about me.” Rafe’s grin flashed
as he stuck out his hand. “It was an awesome ride, Rex, and it
lasted longer than I expected. Thanks. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“I hope so,” Rex said with a grin.

Rafe started to turn away, then glanced back.
“And it was Athena.”

Leya felt as stunned as Rex looked.

“But she was a partner in the club. She could
get arrested, too,” Leya argued.

Rafe gave her a sly look. “And who was the
only person absent for your big demonstration?”

Athena.

“Even though she arranged it,” Rafe said.

“Athena?” Rex repeated. “I can’t believe
she’d do this to the Plume.”

“Believe it,” Rafe said. “She wanted to get
back at you. When I drove her home this morning, she was fuming
about teaching you a lesson. When I picked her up tonight, she’d
changed her mind about going to the Plume.”

Rex ran a hand over his head and Leya knew
his world had been shaken. “Athena,” he murmured again.

Leya remembered their fight all too well. “A
woman scorned,” she whispered and Rex stared at her.

“But why this?”

Leya shrugged and Rex turned to walk along
the pier, his fingers tapping on the laptop bag. Rafe looked after
him with concern. The wail of a siren wafted through the night from
the distance. Leya looked back at the city and saw a plume of dark
smoke rising from the warehouse district.

Where the Plume had been located.

Rex, though, didn’t seem to notice. “Athena,”
he repeated in disbelief.

Rafe and Leya exchanged a worried glance.

“I’ll take care of him,” she said to Rafe.
“Run and be safe.”

“But...” Rafe took a step toward his former
employer, and Leya saw the loyalty that Rex had cultivated in those
he protected.

“Go!” she urged Rafe as the sirens grew
louder.

“Are you sure?”

Leya nodded firmly. “Thanks for telling him.”
One last look at Rex and then Rafe was gone, galloping across the
lot and around the broken building, disappearing into the
night.

“Rex! We have to get out of here,” Leya said,
going to his side and tugging on his sleeve.

At her touch, he seemed to recover himself.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadowed city. She knew the
moment he spied the plume of smoke and guessed by the way his
shoulders sagged that she’d been right about the location. His gaze
flicked to the glittering towers of the city and she saw his grip
tighten on his laptop. “I have nowhere to go.”

Leya put out her hand. “Then come with me.”
She smiled before he could ask. “Just trust me.”

Rex didn’t hesitate. he took her hand in his,
his fingers entwining with her own. “Okay. Lead on.”

They shared a smile that made Leya’s heart
thunder, then turned to make their way back to the city, hand in
hand.

It didn’t matter where they went, although
she had a few ideas. Leya was with Rex, which was the only place
she wanted to be.

* * *

The Plume Series continues with

Coming in October 2012.

* * *

To learn more about Ella Ardent’s books,

please visit her website at

http://ellaardent.com

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