“Why do you do it?” His voice interrupted her thoughts, rumbled around her head, bringing her back to reality.
She took a sip of vodka before answering. “I do it because I enjoy rehabilitating criminals. Or incriminating them.”
“Really? I thought you enjoyed the thrill. I thought you got off on the chase. Bringing people like me to justice gets you a little hot, doesn’t it, Doc?”
Heat rose in her cheeks. How did he get to the truth so easily? Her anger kept her from biting out more than, “Hardly.”
“Sex doesn’t satisfy you, does it? You’ve never had a lover truly give you what you want. What you crave. You know why you do this, Mia? Why you chase after the darkness?”
“Why?”
“Because it excites you. Because hidden deep down in your soul you want it to come and consume you.”
She pushed aside the memories of her past. She wouldn’t let them surface. Not now. It was crucial she maintain concentration. “You promised if I came with you, you’d tell me where you transferred the money. I’m getting a little tired of your bullshit.” She was sick of waiting, sick of his mind games. She needed to get the information and move on.
“All good things come to those who wait.”
“Bullshit. You’re screwing with me. I bet you have no clue where the money is. I bet you are not as hot shit as you think you are. You talk about darkness like it’s part of you. I bet you’re not as bad as you believe you are.”
Dylan growled. His nostrils flared. He blazed with fury but quickly regained control of the beast inside. Finally, Mia saw a glimpse of why this man was the most feared thief on the planet. His swift ability to rein in his anger, to regain impartiality and focus, astounded her. The leashed beast lurked beneath a veil of cold calculation. A dangerous combination.
His voice was barely audible as he answered. “To truly understand what the darkness is like, Mia, you have to unleash it inside yourself.”
She swallowed. “I don’t have any.”
Dylan gave her a cruel smile. “We all have it. It’s one thing human beings have in common. The ability to inflict pain on their fellow man. A primitive side. An animal side. The only difference is if we choose to embrace it.”
He waited while she swallowed the words. “I see the tension leashed beneath the surface. The anger. The passion. The things you’ve buried. But you’re not happy. What happened if you unchained your shackles? Would you embrace the animal inside your soul?”
Would she? When the time came, would she have the courage to confront the devil and come out of this encounter unscathed? Already Dylan was stirring things inside her she’d long blocked.
Mia was saved from answering his question as the lights dimmed further and the stage show began.
A man with long, greasy jet-black hair appeared on the illuminated stage. He wore a green crushed-velvet suit and white dress shirt. Everyone in the bar focused on him. A hushed silence descended as the audience waited for him to speak.
“Gentlemen,” he began, his voice deep and low. He swept his arm around. He scanned the crowd. “And ladies,” he added. “Welcome! We have some wonderful merchandise on offer for you fine people tonight. Just remember, there are no rules. First come, first served. Once the merchandise is yours, you’re free to do whatever you please. Fuck ’em. Hire ’em out. Kill ’em. Just be sure you get no blood on the décor. It’s a fucker to clean.”
The audience let out a whoop of laughter.
It was a female slave bar. Some places traded in men and women but this one traded only in women. Taken from their homes, they were brought here for the singular purpose of making a profit.
Bile rose in her throat as she remembered another time and place. A time when she’d been a nineteen-year-old girl chained and naked, terrified of stepping on stage.
As the “merchandise” appeared, the audience became frenzied. Talking, shouting, banging on tables. Hurling crude catcalls at the frightened, naked women. She could see their terror as they stood there awaiting their fates. Unable to escape the horror that would be their futures.
Disgust lodged in the pit of her stomach. Tears threatened to spill over as she remembered what the fate of most of these women would be. It wasn’t real, but it didn’t stop her from reliving old memories. Once they left this place, the constructs would disappear. In reality, women like these were bought and sold for pleasure. Stripped of their freedom, they’d be loaned out to the highest bidder, forced to service anyone who could pay. Most would become hooked on medication to get them through the days. Others would be beaten to death.
She turned to Dylan, wondering if he’d ever bought a woman at auction.
He stared at her intently, studying her emotions and body language, looking for any sign of weakness he could exploit.
He’d found one. Sick fuck.
She lifted her chin slightly, refusing to be swamped by emotion. “Were you sold? Did someone sell and fuck you?”
Fire blazed in his blue orbs. “No one dared.”
That had pissed him off. She wanted to prod, to pry, to burrow into his mind and exploit his weaknesses. “Have you ever bought a slave? Is that why we’re here? Are you more fucked up than anyone thought? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“I’ve never needed to buy a woman to satisfy my needs, and I have many.”
Mia continued to stare at him, trying to look into the depths of his soul. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He reached for his drink and took slow, deliberate sips. Tormenting her as she waited for his reply.
The bidding on stage began for the first woman.
“What if the answer was yes? What would your cold, clinical mind say if I told you I’d bought one of these women in my past? What if I told you it was the pretty brunette with the slave number on her arms?” He flicked a strand of Mia’s now dry titian hair.
She flinched and he smiled.
His tone remained cool, calm. He never raised his voice. “If I told you the whispers made me slice her open. Peel back the outer membrane to reveal what beauty is on the inside of a human being. Have you ever seen blood at night? It’s almost black. Like tar. Sticky. Warm. A slight metallic taste. A sweet smell…”
“It won’t work.” Fucking with her, goading her. It wouldn’t work. He was nothing but a clever thief trying to throw her off purpose. He wasn’t going to give up his secrets but she refused to let him destroy her. “The mind games. Fucking with me so I’ll run for safety like a frightened girl who shies from the devil.”
Her heart beat wildly. She removed the mental padlock from her past and let Dylan see who she really was. “I’m no girl. I’ve seen and experienced more things than you can comprehend. The more you try to shock me with these games, the more tenacious I become. You think this shocks me? You try being up on stage.”
She expected surprise but his expression remained a blank mask. Anger boiled. She stood up, placed her palms of the table and leaned across. “I know what you are. You’re more intelligent than any of us could have predicted. A criminal mastermind. Bravo. But your control will slip, and when it does I’m going to be there.”
The atmosphere between them became electric, raw and primal. She’d challenged him.
Dylan stood slowly. His movements graceful. “Why do you chase criminals, Dr. Simon?”
The question threw her. Of all the things she’d expected to come out of his mouth, this wasn’t one of them. Violence, yes. Smart-ass comments, yes.
“Because I’m a psychologist. It’s what I do.” Of course it was much more than that. But she wasn’t going to admit it to him.
He frowned, gritted his teeth. “Wrong answer. I’m asking you again. Tell me why you do this, or the deal is off.”
Mia looked down at the droplet of candle wax that spilled over onto the table. “It excites me.”
“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Of course he’d heard her. He was fucking with her again.
Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment. She lifted her chin and looked directly at him. “It excites me. Is that what you wanted to hear? I can’t get off the normal way. I can’t get off with a man who is tender and soft. I want hard. I want raw.”
“Very good, Mia. Finally we get to the truth. You chase us because it excites you, makes you feel alive, wild, feral. You observe because you don’t have the courage to embrace your own dark side. Not just yet. But it’s there, stalking the hallways of your mind. Waiting for release.”
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the exit. She struggled to keep up with his long, determined strides. His fingers bruised the delicate flesh of her wrist.
Before he pushed open the exit door, he turned to Mia. His mouth was inches from hers. She could smell the whiskey he’d drunk. The stale odor of sex heightened her senses, ripened her body.
“Deep down, you’re just like me.” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed open the door and pulled Mia into another darkened alley.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Dylan let go of her wrist. He pushed her roughly against the cold, damp metal. Pain lanced through her head, blurred her vision.
He trapped her between his body and the door as he placed a hand on either side of her head. Mia trembled. From fear or arousal, she couldn’t tell. Being like this with him scared and excited her. A heady mix.
Not wanting him to see her arousal, she whispered, “Go ahead, Dylan. Kill me. Rape me. Isn’t that what you brought me here to do? Destroy the good doctor so your secrets are safe? Do it.”
All the careful constructs of civility she’d created after escaping her violent teenage years came crashing down. She was stripped bare, laid open. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t come during sex. She needed rough. She needed violence but never trusted anyone enough to hurt her.
He wrapped his palm around her neck and feathered the pulse with his thumb. He was surprisingly gentle. She gasped. Heat shot through her veins. Her pussy throbbed.
She hadn’t expected this.
Intense pools of heat swirled. Would he hurt her? Did she care?
Unable to help herself, she caressed his face. She needed direct contact, to feel him under her fingertips, to smooth the lines of his brow.
He caught her wrist. Startled, she frowned. His heat radiated through her. Her body ignited. She was perplexed at how the slightest touch from him could make her feel as though her blood were on fire.
Her blouse fell open, revealing the bite scar on her chest. Dylan looked down and followed the contours of the scar. She desperately tried to cover it.
“Don’t,” he growled.
“I have to.” Meeting his gaze, she pleaded with him.
He pulled her hand away from the scar. She let her wrist fall and he traced the imperfection with his fingertips. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
She gasped. She always hid her scars from people. She didn’t want to expose her imperfections and incite pity. Or questions. To her, they were hideous. An abomination. A blot on her character as a human being. A reminder she’d been marred by evil, tarred by it. Yet he treated it as a thing of beauty.
Mia bit her lower lip to keep from moaning. Sensation after sensation washed over her. He was so light. Gentle. It made her want to cry out in ecstasy. The fear she felt was gone, replaced by an intense need. To be consumed by him.
The controlling criminal disappeared, replaced by a man who stroked her with reverence. His furrowed brow and soft touch betrayed his emotions. Warmth radiated from him and flowed into her. Fear evaporated as she opened her mind and looked inside Dylan.
It was too easy. She slipped inside his conscious and saw herself from his point of view.
In the grim reality he’d created for himself, she shined.
Lust and admiration bled from every pore. He wanted her on a base level, wanted to break her down and fuck her. He understood need. The need for sex.
But he didn’t want to respect her. He didn’t want to admire her strength and courage. Unable to deal with his attraction, he’d wanted to scare her, to shock her, make her run from him. If she did, he wouldn’t have to deal with feelings that were foreign to him. It made him vulnerable.
Images of herself flashed into her mind. She couldn’t think, only see and feel. In his eyes, she was beautiful. Courageous.
What the hell was happening? Why could she merge her mind with his? The virtual reality’s coding didn’t allow for that. Had their clash compromised the code? She blinked, drew herself back from his mind.
Lust unfurled in her belly. She wet her dry lips as he continued to caress her. “Dylan.”
The feelings he aroused in her were undeniably sexual. She wanted to be understood, to be exposed, to show him the depths of her soul. Including the parts she’d locked down, the parts tainted by evil.
Something shifted. He stepped away from her. “Deal’s off. Goodbye, Dr. Simon.” He walked off into the night, turned a corner and disappeared.
She screamed after him, “Wait. You can’t leave me here! We had a deal. You son of a bitch.”
Her vital signs should be spiking. Ramierez should have pulled her out. When the technicians saw her brain waves weren’t controlling the environment, they should have enabled the failsafe, brought them out with a concoction of meds to drag them back into reality. Something was off. It had been from the beginning. Why was she stuck here?
Mia turned and kicked the metal door. What the fuck was she supposed to do now?
* * * * *
Dylan walked through the streets of his construct. He’d lived on these streets in his youth. Grown up among the squalor and poverty of the unacknowledged underbelly. It was one of the reasons he became a thief. His mother, stripped of her pride and dignity, had begged the Company for help to feed him. When they’d refused, practically laughed in her face, she’d taken to turning tricks in the market for food or coin.
His beautiful mother with the sad eyes and warm, tender embrace. The woman who always made sure he had a hot meal and a kiss at bedtime. She’d died of an STD when he was six and he’d sworn to rain havoc down on those who’d denied her.
Blood thundered through his veins. He needed to breathe. He hadn’t felt anything for years until her. Dr. Mia Simon.
He’d had to get away from her. Now that there was distance between them, he forced his body to relax.
She’d burrowed under his skin. The beautiful psychologist with a dark side.
He’d believed he could control her, break her down by showing her images from his past. He’d played her game, bought into her secret desires.
He’d thought her “darkness” revolved around her own past. He’d underestimated her. Her dark desires ran deep. She’d actually wanted him to kill her.
In his experience, people usually begged for life when confronted with death.
Not her. She’d embraced it.
Maybe the VR made her bold. He remembered the look in her eyes. The determination, the courage.
Fascinating.
Dylan ducked into a gambling den. He found the bustling atmosphere calming.
He retraced her scars with his mind. The angry red mass of puckered skin. Her badges of courage.
It had started out as a game. A challenge to break down the brilliant doctor. Somewhere that changed. She intrigued him. He admired her spirit. He’d seen something inside her that reminded him of himself.
They’d both been tainted by blood. Both irrevocably changed by the darkness of their youth. Yet looking into her eyes, he’d seen something he’d thought lost—a vulnerability. A certain type of innocence despite the darkness. A desire to be known. To be loved.
Something shifted inside him. Softened.
He couldn’t afford to have her under his skin. He couldn’t afford to feel anything. Especially not for her. She could destroy him. Feelings made you sloppy, weak. If he let her into his cold heart, she would change him, burn away the need for revenge. His conscious would rear its ugly head
and he’d lose his edge.
Images of her wandering the VR alone bombarded his mind. “Fuck.”
She couldn’t pull herself out, not while he was still in control. He had to go back.
Pushing past a crowd of gamblers, he focused his thoughts. Her fear permeated his senses. What trouble had she gotten into? Technically, this world was his construct. Until he allowed Mia into his head, she shouldn’t be able to project her past into this reality.
Unless something had gone wrong and they were sharing a consciousness.
“Shit.” He broke into a run. He needed to find her. Fast.
* * * * *
Trapped in a maze of alleyways and grim backstreets, Mia began to panic. Not only had Dylan abandoned her, he’d left her in his virtual creation. She had no idea where she was going.
Occasionally other people were in the alleys with her. People she recognized from her past. On those occasions, she looked straight ahead. Was her unconscious somehow subtly changing Dylan’s reality?
For the most part, she was alone in her thoughts. Alone with thoughts of Dylan Benjamin. A criminal mastermind. The man who stirred feelings in her she’d thought were dead.
After the way he’d caressed her with such gentleness, did she believe he was capable of such destruction? Could she believe him capable of killing women? A thief, yes. A psychopathic murderer who toyed with his victims? No.
She sighed. Dylan was an enigma. One she feared and desired. One she would never get to unravel now.
She turned into yet another alley and stopped. This time she wasn’t alone.
The rain cleared, leaving a cloudless night. Bathed in moonlight a few feet away were two men. In between them, being pushed from one to another, was a woman. Her terror was evident from her whimpers.
One of the men tore her shirt, the other her skirt. The woman screamed, pleaded for them to stop.
The men laughed. A high-pitched drunken cackle that made Mia sick to her stomach.
Mia froze as they forced to woman to her knees. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t help the frightened woman. She’d been here before—in the real world. Surely this couldn’t be happening again? The computer program must have snatched this from her mind and imprinted it on this reality.
Darkness Comes Page 3
