She knew he was giving her a warning. He didn't have to tell her that, though; she'd seen her father's broken, torn body. The Hallahan brothers had taken their time torturing him. They'd kept him alive a really long time, and they hadn't needed to. That meant they had prolonged his life--and his pain--for their own enjoyment. She felt that monster inside of her, opening. Blossoming. Needing. It was all she could do to force her body to sit in the booth and not walk right up to Jimmy Hallahan, shove a gun in his throat and pull the trigger.
"My man Tomas is watching your friend. I let him know to allow her to go up the stairs with Hallahan. I can cloak you so you can follow. But, Blaze." His fingers bit deep into her thigh. "I am going to be right there as well. You will not see me, but if you get into trouble--either one of you--I take over and kill him myself. Do you understand?"
She knew he was asking more than the simple question. He was telling her she'd better stand down when he told her to, or there would be consequences. She wasn't a woman who feared much but still, the steel underlying that velvet tone sent a shiver through her.
"I understand, Maksim. There are four of them. I want all four. And I don't want Emeline hurt, so yes, if everything goes south, I welcome you bailing me out." She looked up into his eyes to see if he got it. If he got her. She was giving him her trust. Walking another step into his world. Giving him something she hadn't given any other man other than her father.
His eyes went hot. From cold to hot. For her. She leaned into him, put a hand on his chest and kissed his mouth. Hard. Wet. Delicious. Meaning it. His hand cupped the back of her head and his mouth took over hers. Harder. Wetter. More delicious than ever. Meaning it as well. So much so that she felt that meaning in every cell in her body.
Abruptly he lifted his head and pressed his forehead to hers. He is heading this way. Time for a show, Blaze. Are you up for it? Can you take it? Play the part? I do not want him close enough to see any detail of the real you.
She felt him moving in her mind, reassuring her. Filling her. Holding her in strong arms. She swallowed, nodded. Maksim applied pressure to the back of her head, and she let him ease her down so she was pressed with her mouth against his lower abdomen. She knew what to do, sliding her hands under his shirt, to lift it enough to press her lips to bare skin, effectively hiding her face.
"Jimmy Hallahan," Jimmy said, his accent very thick. He slid into the booth on the other side of Blaze, his thigh touching hers. "The show's about to start and I wanted to offer you anything you might need or want. Everything here can be yours if you want it. See you got your little skank in the right place. You're going to need some relief after seeing what I got to offer for you."
"Max," Maksim stated. "And she's a toy, not a skank. There is a difference, and if you do not know what it is, I feel sorry for you." His hand stroked caresses over Blaze's hair, calming her when the close proximity to the oldest Hallahan made her tense, sick and wanting to kill him all mixed together.
NINE
THE LIGHTS CAME up on the stage, and a small hush settled over the club. The dance music faded away, and men and women shifted eagerly in their seats for a better look in anticipation of what was to come. The oldest Hallahan brother leaned across Blaze's body as if she wasn't there, his concentration on Maksim.
"You're going to love this," he said. "And man, anything you want is on the menu."
His hand dropped casually toward Blaze. Maksim caught his wrist. Showing teeth in a semblance of a smile, but his eyes were ice-cold. "Nothing here is on the menu." The voice said it all.
I can't stand it if he touches me. He's so close I want to vomit. Or kill him. Blaze felt naked without her weapons. A knife. Anything. She could break his neck, but the scuffle--and there would be one--would attract the bouncers, and it was doubtful if she could snap it in time before help got to him. She had to be realistic, and it was getting nearly impossible to breathe. She'd been holding her breath since he'd slipped into the booth next to her.
Hallahan sent Maksim a toothy grin. His gaze dropped to the woman who had to mean something to the perverted man who had come to his club for playtime. A toy he'd said, but still, a treasured one or he wouldn't care if Jimmy shoved her on the floor and used her mouth while he watched the show the other worthless skanks put on for the men. Teasing them. Showing off their bodies for money. He turned his dancers into what they were--whores. Worthless whores who were required to do whatever he or his brothers demanded. And they demanded anything they wanted. Anytime they wanted.
He glanced down at the woman again. Her face was pressed to the wealthy man's bare belly. He couldn't see her face, but her body was prime. He wasn't used to being denied, but he smiled anyway. He would have the woman when he wanted her--right in front of the rich man. He'd make the old man watch for that insult.
He cannot put his hands on you, Blaze. Take a breath. All you will pull into your lungs is me, Maksim assured. The illusion of you is real enough that if he touches your thigh or your back or any part of you, he doesn't actually feel you, but what I created. You think you feel him, but he is not touching you. I would never allow that.
Blaze took a moment more, her lungs burning. Raw. Needing air. She believed Maksim, but she couldn't bear it if he was wrong and she allowed Jimmy Hallahan into her, even if it was just the same air. She had no choice but to breathe. She pressed her face--her mouth--hard against Maksim's belly, down low, into the waistband of his trousers, and she took a shallow breath.
She drew Maksim deep. So deep she was almost dizzy. Her next inhale was anything but shallow because his scent, that perfect, wonderful masculine scent, obliterated everything that was Hallahan. She closed her eyes and took herself out of the club. She couldn't be there with the man who had murdered her father pressed next to her, illusion or not. Her tongue slipped over Maksim's defined muscles. She traced them with her tongue just to get his taste. To push Hallahan further away.
I can't watch over Emeline in this position, Blaze said. Worried. She hadn't expected Hallahan to approach Maksim and actually sit at his booth.
Maksim's hand stroked a caress in her hair. Tomas is up close to the stage just in case your girl gets in trouble. One of his brothers arrived a few minutes ago. Lojos. He is standing beside the stairs leading to the apartment. Leaning against the wall, eyes on the stage. Both are like me. Carpathian. Nothing will happen to her.
The first dancer came out of the shadows into the spotlight, crawling like a jungle cat, her body in nothing but leopard paint. The paint was clever, hiding everything and nothing at the same time. It was her dancing that revealed her body to them, slow, teasing glimpses as she sensuously shimmied around the stage to the pounding music.
The entire atmosphere in the club changed. The sexual tension ramping up along with the music. Maksim's hand tightened in Blaze's hair.
They are pumping something through the ventilation system, Blaze. Some kind of pheromone that is subtle but with every breath these men and women take, it is affecting them just as a drug would.
Blaze kept her mouth pressed to Maksim's bare skin. I understand now why they're so successful. They don't need the actual drugs to get the people stirred up to purchase the extras. The sex would be better than ever; at least they all think it is.
They are selling drugs as well, Maksim said, allowing his breathing to change so Hallahan would believe he was just as affected as everyone else in the club. Just as affected as Hallahan was becoming. It was there on his face, stark depravity. His hand had already dropped to his crotch.
"See what I mean, Maksim?" Jimmy said, all friendly, his voice tinged with need. "When you're through with your woman, I could use a little relief myself." Jimmy's grin was full of confidence, now that the drug was being pumped into the club.
Maksim flashed him a quick, answering smirk, but didn't reply out loud. He had to pretend the drug was affecting him as it was all the others in the club.
The music ended and the crowd went wild. The lights came down an
d the dancer rushed offstage. A woman dressed in the scanty uniform of a server picked up the money thrown on the stage and shoved it into a separate pocket on her apron.
"A thousand can buy you that dancer for an hour. She'll do anything you want, and your girl can join in or watch or just stay and wait for you," Hallahan offered. "I've had her myself and she's a wildcat, just like her dance shows her."
Maksim's eyebrows shot up. "A thousand?"
"For an hour, and believe me, that's cheap for what you'll get. You want her all night, that's ten large, but you'd better be able to keep up," Hallahan said.
In between the dancers, the strippers in the cages were grinding and slowly taking off their clothes, as the music pumped adrenaline through the club. More and more, the audience was becoming as affected, and as uninhibited.
They have quite the racket going here. The drug everyone is inhaling is already affecting everyone, even without the strippers and dancers. Men are touching their partners openly. Women are beginning to respond by allowing more open public displays. Blouses open, hands on their men's crotches. Two have already knelt down right on the floor and no one's stopping them from what they're doing. It is just adding to the already open, sexual atmosphere. Two uniformed cops are being serviced in the corner by two of the women serving drinks. Blaze, they have cameras in here. This place is a trap for anyone coming in. They drop hundreds on the strippers, then thousands for the extra time in the back room and the way they have everyone worked up, including the strippers and dancers, there is going to be a lot of action in that back room. They will certainly have cameras there as well. That means blackmail. Now we know how they own the police so quickly.
Blaze nuzzled his body. Emeline, she whispered into his mind. I can feel the effects and I'm not watching the show, but she'll be dancing. She's naturally sensual, Maksim. I don't want anything to happen to her.
She was becoming affected. She could feel the compulsion to slide under the table with every breath she took. Her breasts ached, and a smoldering fire began between her legs. She was very grateful Hallahan could only see an illusion, the image Maksim allowed him to see, not her.
Three more dancers performed before the music changed altogether into a pounding beat--a beat everyone in the room could feel right through their already primed bodies. Men were kissing, touching, pushing partners to their knees, reaching under tables to put their hands up skirts.
They keep changing the angle of the cameras, Blaze. Zooming in. This place is all about blackmail. Hallahan is getting suspicious. Slide under the table and stay low, directly in front of me. I will do the rest. You do not move. Keep your hand on my leg so I know you are safe while I give him the illusion he is expecting. As the wealthy pervert in the room, I should be far more affected by the drug and the sights surrounding me. I am not in the least aroused.
She knew what that meant. She closed her eyes and let her hand slide over his lap, feeling the length of him. He wasn't hard or even semi-hard, a state he had been in when he was alone with her. Her stomach churned. She knew Hallahan couldn't see her, the real her, or even the real Maksim, but this was so insane. Trapped by the drug pumping through the air vents, Maksim had no choice but to respond like everyone else. He was shielding her, and taking the brunt of the disgusting close proximity of Hallahan. Laughing crudely with him. Assessing the dancers and strippers. Rating them. Being a sleaze--for her. She had forced him to come here with her, protecting her. Protecting Emeline. Not just him, but two other of his friends.
I'm sorry, Maksim. I didn't know what it was like inside. I've scouted the place, but never saw it this way. I really didn't know. Em didn't know, either.
It is all right. I do not care about this man. He is already dead. He is letting little things slip while we talk. I am able to see the scope of this operation, and Blaze, it is large.
Hallahan suddenly hitched forward, his hand stilling on his crotch. The room went silent other than the heavy breathing. There were no more shouts of encouragement to the dancers, only enthrallment.
Keeping her hand on Maksim's calf, Blaze lifted the corner of the tablecloth draped so conveniently, so she could see the stage. She knew the moment the hush fell over the crowd that Emeline Sanchez had stepped into the spotlight. There she was and she was gorgeous. Spectacular. Her hair was long and thick, shiny as a raven's wing and a true blue black. The thick mass fell below her waist, caressing her body, a body that was all curves. Narrow waist. Tight belly with just the hint of a womanly curve, soft and inviting. Her body was covered in glitter, gold and silver. Glitter that picked up the lights and threw what appeared to be little sparks as she moved onstage to the music. She wore a tiny thong of gold, and two golden stars over her nipples, a thin gold chain running from one star to the other. Around her hips, low, was a second double golden chain, with small bells that added to the music as she became lost in the pounding beat.
She looked like a woman desperate, hungry, in so much need of a man, her hands moving down her body suggestively as her hips undulated and her breasts swayed. As she danced, she hypnotized her audience. She was sex personified. The kind of dangerous woman a man might kill for. Once he was under her spell, once he had a taste of her, he could never be the same.
Every single male in the room, and many of the women, followed the path of her hands as they moved over her body, so graceful, so sensual, the epitome of perfection.
Hallahan began to swear under his breath, and to her horror, he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. At once Maksim slammed a barrier between Blaze and the man. She couldn't see him or smell him. She huddled closer to Maksim's protection, eternally grateful for him. Had she come into that club alone, she would have fallen under the spell of the drug as well. She had no idea what would have happened to her. She wasn't as far gone as the others in the room, but she knew Maksim was somehow giving her as much clean air as he could, acting like a filter for her.
This has to end, Blaze said desperately. I don't want Em to regret helping me.
That dancing is all your girl, sufletul meu; Tomas and Lojos are filtering the air for her. She is very aware something is wrong. They do not know how she is so aware. As a rule, we can read humans easily when we want, but there is something different about her. I have tried as well, but it is impossible.
"Her," Maksim said aloud to Hallahan. "I want that girl."
"No fucking way," Hallahan said. Choking on his own desperate hunger. "That one is all mine. She isn't up for sale."
Blaze heard his breathing change, become labored, and she knew the exact moment when he relieved himself, but she didn't smell it or see it. Still, her stomach lurched again. She detested that he could see Emeline's body. That he thought he could touch her, have her, force her to do whatever he wanted.
Hallahan abruptly stood. "I'll send your waitress over." He kept his eyes on the stage. "She'll take your order." He strode away, straight for the stage.
Blaze immediately slid back to the seat and leaned in to kiss Maksim. She had to get rid of the terrible taste in her mouth. The feeling of having come too close to real depravity. Maksim didn't deny her. He kissed her gently. Tenderly. Blocking out everything but the way he made her feel. Safe. Secure. Comforted. Close to him.
He pulled back, his gaze moving over her face, clearly checking to see if she was okay. "We are going to get up and walk over toward the stairs. The women's restroom is located just beyond them. It will look as if you are heading there and that you disappear inside. You and I will follow Hallahan and your girl up to the apartment. We will have to stay close. He has guards on the stairway. Do not make the mistake of brushing against them as we go up. They will feel a presence, perhaps even the air moving, although all of them are jacked up on the drug, so they will have their eyes on your girl. Do you understand?"
She nodded. "I take him down."
"He will not see me, but again, if something goes wrong, it will be me taking him down. Tomas and Lojos will remain downstairs in
case anyone is alerted to something happening and they try to rescue their boss. It is important to remember, his brothers will turn up sometime this evening. Tariq and Mataias have interrupted one of their jobs, and they already blew it by not killing or acquiring you."
"Acquiring me?" She was already up and sliding out of the booth, her eyes on the oldest Hallahan brother, who remained beside the stage on the side where the dancers exited on the way back to the dressing room. He hadn't taken his eyes from Emeline. In truth, no one else had, either, other than Blaze and the three Carpathian males.
"They had no idea you were bringing the war to them."
"I issued an invitation."
He took her hand and pulled her tight against his side, moving her easily through the crowd toward their goal. He didn't speak to or shove anyone, but they moved when they saw him coming. Even in his disguise, he had presence.
"Neither Tariq nor I believed they came to kill you. They came for you. Once we realized you have a psychic ability, we were fairly certain they were there to acquire you for their boss."
They had made their way to the stairway. Maksim took them into the shadows just outside the women's restroom and to the left of the stairs. Instantly, she found herself wearing her normal attire, dark jeans and shirt, and her soft-soled boots. Her weapons were all there, in her belt, in her boots, strapped against her back between her shoulder blades. The weight felt familiar, and she found herself breathing easier.
"How could they possibly know I have a psychic ability?"
"Did you ever go to a place that tested your abilities?"
The music was louder, leading to a crescendo. The mesmerized crowd seemed to be collectively breathing in time to the music, ragged and labored, very sexual, so that tension permeated the room. Blaze switched her gaze from Emeline to the crowd. Emeline seemed to be in her own world, a part of that music, a living flame of pure sensuality. She moved on the stage as if she was alone, calling a secret lover to her. Wanting. Needing. Her body undulating, hands moving over her curves as she danced. The crowd seemed just as hungry now, as if every movement Emeline made onstage, they felt in their own bodies. At last, because she had to, Blaze let her gaze rest on Jimmy Hallahan.
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