The Consort

by Paige Patton

  “The guy is a little strange.”

  “Are you saying that I was right?”

  “No. I’m just saying that he’s a bit eccentric. He lives alone on a mountain on a massive estate. That could be part of his problem, and he could be doing all kinds of shit up there.”

  “Illegal?”

  “Could be, I didn’t take the time to look around but something is going on. It’s wired tight with security cameras everywhere.”

  The bartender was taking his time getting to them. Camille wanted them to both be good and drunk before she admitted her mistake.

  “He wears this horrendous ring with the head of a wolf on it. Says that it holds some kind of power.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Exactly! And that’s not even the freaky part. The ring is embedded in his finger right down to the bone. It’s not coming off unless the finger comes off with it.”

  That was strange, but it did not come close to an ass spanked that sent you into an orgasm. “Disgusting.”

  “You think? Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

  “Like what?” Camille asked as she waited for a logical answer.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s tired of losing his rings.”

  Camille gave her an are-you-kidding-me-look. “I just think he has a problem. I mean, he’s a nice guy, but…”

  “But what?” Desiree asked. She wanted Camille to admit that she was wrong about Noland Bauer. But as weird as he was, Camille could not say it. There was something about him that she found endearing.

  It was time to change the subject; time to turn the conversation around before she told Desiree the story of vampires and werewolves that Noland swore owned business and lived all around them. She knew there was no truth behind any of it, only the wild imagination of a sick man.

  Thank God, the bartender came to take their order. “Having your usual tonight, ladies?” He asked with a big smile on his face that kept the women happy and ensured his fat tips.

  “Two for me and keep 'em coming,” Desiree answered.

  Camille nodded her head indicating the same. “Was he that bad?”

  Now it was her turn to tell all. Desiree didn’t want to think about the man much less talk about him. She wanted to skim over the topic of Roman DePaul as if he didn’t matter. “Who?” She asked as she had already forgotten him.

  “The professor.”

  “He’s an ogre,” Desiree said with such conviction it raised one of Camille’s eyebrows and left her wondering what happened.

  “He didn’t look like an ogre to me.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I Googled him. The man’s hot!”

  “That doesn’t make him any less of an ogre.”

  “O….kay,” Camille said trying to read the signs from Desiree’s tone and demeanor. She wasn’t getting anything, but she knew she would spill it all when it was too much for her to hold.

  “We should start keeping files on everyone we talk to,” Camille added waiting for the shoe to drop. “We didn’t order those file cabinets for nothing.”

  Desiree swung herself around in her chair looking the other way. All she could think about was Roman DePaul and the spanking he gave her. More importantly, the way it made her feel. An orgasm did not do the feeling justice, it was more than just an orgasm, it was an erotic moment of pure bliss that transcended any feeling she could remember.

  Camille couldn’t wait any longer. She knew something was up.

  “What happened?” She asked sitting back in her chair bracing herself for whatever horror story she would tell. Desiree had a quick temper and didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut most of the time. If she felt wronged, she had no problem letting you know. She was rude and downright crude at times, a loose cannon and a boatload of other names that always ended with the police involved.

  Growing up, Camille often found herself at the center of heated debates bloody fights brought on by Desiree’s mouth. The woman had no filter when it came to speaking her mind. Not that she was any better but at least she took the time to arrange her words in a way that did not sting quite as bad.

  “He was an hour and a half late.”

  “So what? He was late. You can’t hold that against him. How many times have you been late?”

  “That’s beside the point. I was on time for our scheduled meeting.”

  “Big deal, Desiree. Let it go.”

  Desiree could not let it go. If Camille only knew how badly she craved his touch. How her mind was lost in everything about him. His smell, his looks, his masculinity and the pleasure he forced upon her. She would never be able to let him go. That more than anything pissed her off. “He had the nerve to stroll in like it was no big deal.”

  “I’m sure he apologized?”

  Desiree grunted with disgust. “Something came up was his excuse. Like that made it all right to keep a person waiting. He’s a pompous, arrogant jerk.”

  Camille was baffled. Plenty of men had kept her waiting for a lot longer than an hour and a half. Why the big fuss over this she wondered. “But the man is fine,” Camille said raising an eyebrow playfully.

  Yeah, he was fine all right. She could not argue with that, but that did not make him any less of a jerk. What kind of a man goes around spanking women he just met?

  The bartender returned with their drinks just in time. “Let’s toast to new beginnings and tolerance and realizing that no one is perfect,” Camille said holding up her drink. The women tapped their glasses together and took a sip.

  “Did he at least give you anything useful- A lead or anything that we can report back to Noland?”

  Of course, he had given her something useful; well… it was more pleasurable than useful. She was still trying to figure it all out. She couldn’t quite get a grip on how he managed to make her cum that way. She didn’t even like the man. Well, maybe just a little. “No,” Desiree answered flatly.

  “Nothing?” Camille asked disappointedly.

  Desiree shook her head, no finishing one drink and started on the next.

  Camille’s ability to spot a liar worked on women too, so she waited. She knew Desiree better than she knew herself. Whenever she was this quiet and detached lookout, a bomb was about to drop, and then explode. To get the full story all she had to do was to give her time, so she took a sip of her appletini and waited. Something was coming, and it was going to be big.

  “He spanked me,” She said innocently.

  Camille choked on her drink. Clutching her throat and coughing like a mad woman as she tried to keep from choking to death. She was NOT expecting that. “You mean like an ass spanking?” She managed to get out between coughing and wiping the spilled drink off her clothes.

  Desiree cut her with a hard look. “Exactly like an ass spanking. Is there another kind?”

  Camille tried, but she couldn’t hold it in. She burst out laughing so hard it brought tears to her eyes. The day had finally come when Desiree Chase met her match. Finally, there was a real man out there who would not ignore her diva attitude just because she had a pretty face.

  Desiree managed to keep a straight face as she downed the second drink and motioned to the bartender for another one. She refused to let Camille’s antics get to her.

  “I'm not finding the humor in it, Camille. I should have had him arrested.”

  “But you didn’t. So that means…”

  “It means nothing other than I’m stupid for not doing so!”

  Camille fought hard to hold back her amusement, but it wasn’t easy. It took her a minute, but she finally got it under control. In her defense, how often do you get to hear that your best friend got her ass spanked by a total stranger?

  “The last time I got spanked I got two hundred and fifty dollars for my pain and suffering. Did he at least pay you?”

  Desiree didn’t say a word. She didn’t have too. Camille could see the anguish
on her face. She got serious, but she wanted full details. “I’m sorry. Did he hurt you?”

  “It was like he was taking his frustrations out on me. I thought he’d never stop.”

  “You must have done something to provoke him?”

  “He called me a bitch, so I slapped him.”

  “Maybe you should take care of the administrative side of the business and leave the footwork to me,” Camille said.

  Camille needed a blow by blow (no pun intended) account of everything. Desiree would view this as being nosey. If questioning someone for every detail of a situation made her nosey; then wrap it with a bow and present her with the gift of being the nosiest person alive. Hell, she was a private investigator and being nosey was just one of the many benefits.

  This was all amusing to Camille. Desiree could tell by the way she leaned in and listened with full attention. You could not pry her away from the bar even if Marvin Gaye and Michael Jackson downstairs in the lobby. That’s how much she was into Desiree’s ass spanking story.

  “Did he say anything while he was spanking that ass?”

  “Not a word. Oh, he warned me to hold still, or he would make it worse.”

  “Wow!” Camille breathed. “That’s actually kind of hot.” She went silent for a moment picturing the scene in her mind. “Okay,” She finally said quickly switching into business mood. “Tell me everything from beginning to end and don’t leave out a single detail. And, come to think about it, maybe we should make the professor a person of interest.”

  Desiree did not believe for one second that Roman had anything to do with Grace’s disappearance. The professor was too smooth. He was more of a player than a criminal. She had run across his type plenty of times, a heartthrob with a little education, a few bucks in his pocket and mad skills with the ladies. She was certain that the professor could be crossed off the list of suspects, but she was equally certain that he was something far worse than a kidnapper, which made him a person of interest.

  “I seriously doubt he had anything to do with Noland’s daughter.”

  “You never know sweetie. And there’s no harm in adding him to our list.” Camille said running her fingers through her hair. She was grateful that Roman’s ass spanking trumped Noland’s ridiculous story about vampires and werewolves.

  “There’s an actual list?”

  “Yep and he has the honors of being at the top. Someone had to be the first.”

  Chapter Six

  The Hospital had everything needed for any vampire or human who was injured. Roman made sure of that. He staffed the hospital with nothing but the finest doctors, nurses and technicians to have ever lived and died.

  Roman went from room to room checking on his men, making sure each one had everything they needed or wanted. He needed them back out on the streets to do what they were trained to do. Fight.

  Doc Stevens practically lived in surgical scrubs. Since rumors of a revolution had leaked its way out into the universe, more and more of Roman’s fighters were injured. Each day worse than the day before. It was time to have a serious talk with his friend; Doc Stevens thought as he waited for Roman in the hallway.

  Stevens had nothing but the utmost respect for his master, the man who gave him new life. When he got his diagnosis of terminal cancer, he went to Roman and asked for help. He was not ready to die; he was only fifty-five, but he felt like a man in his twenties.

  It took two years for Doc to take his last breath. Once pronounced dead, Roman appeared and turned him. Doc felt he owed his master everything- Even the truth.

  He stood outside the door waiting as Roman exited the last room. He led him around the corner and into his office; closing the door behind.

  “Take a load off.”

  Roman took a seat across from his desk. He had never stepped a foot in a school building, but he imagined that this is what it must feel like to be called into the principal’s office for being bad. He prepared himself for the lecture he knew was coming.

  The Doc Stevens would never hold his tongue when he had something important to say. Even with Roman as his master, he still never held back, he was always blunt and to the point, and Roman respected him for that. Whenever he closed the door, it was never good.

  “I hope it’s not bad news, Doc.” Roman said as he rubbed his hands over his tired face. “I’ve had enough of that to last me a while.”

  “Naturally your men will live. They will all be just fine. The problem is that each attack wears on them. They are not as strong as you, my friend.”

  “They are vampires,” Roman said with pride and as if that should be enough to save them.

  “And Kourosh is their master. Each time they fight against him, he takes a little of their supernatural powers away.”

  This was becoming a serious problem for Roman and his followers. Each time his men fought against Kourosh’s demons their powers weakened, Kourosh took back what he had given them. When wounded it weakened them even more. It did not kill them, but they would soon be virtually useless in a war.

  Roman took a deep breath and lowered his head in his hands. Kourosh had become a major pain in his ass. Kourosh had managed to stay three steps ahead of him at every turn.

  “How goes the revolution?” Doc Stevens asked as he took a seat behind his desk. Even for a vampire the man looked tired.

  “Each day we face a new war,” Roman answered.

  “And every day another battle must be fought. That was to be expected. Kourosh will never give up. You are trying to take away his legacy, something that belongs to him.”

  Roman didn’t give a fuck about his legacy. The man had to be stopped. He was the only one in the position to stop him. He had a goddess on his side.

  “The abuse of dominant power is dangerous. One man should not control all.”

  “I agree. So are you telling me that you are willing to share the position of ruler with Kourosh?”

  Not a chance in hell, Roman thought. It was all or nothing. He wanted the title of sole ruler of the underworld. There was no such thing as co-ruler.

  “It is not that simple, Doc.”

  “Why is it not that simple? Are you a better man than Kourosh?”

  “I would like to believe so.”

  “Actions speak louder than words. Prove to me that you are the better man?”

  “How?”

  “Let this revolution go. Save the many men who are willing to face death for you; the longer this goes on, the numbers increase.”

  This was something Roman could never do. If the doctor thought for one second that he would give up his dream, then the man sitting across from did not know him at all. Roman didn’t even consider it. Instead, his thoughts went to Desiree and her powers. Once she was his consort, they would belong to him. All he had to do was to make her his consort and then his submissive. That should be easy he thought.

  Chapter Seven

  As the sun slowly disappeared and evening quickly turned into night, Desiree and Camille moved their celebratory party over to the dance floor. These two women had a way of drawing crowds of men without trying. Being regulars for many years had many perks; they were practically staples, not just here, but around San Diego. Having lived here, all of their lives made them popular and extremely knowledgeable about everything going on in town.

  It was not long before a crowd of men migrated their way, surrounding them in conversation, or pulling them in for a slow dance. The men hung on their every word staring at them in lustful fascination. Why not- They were the two hottest women in the place.

  Desiree’s mind wondered back to Liam and how she had danced with him right here on the night they met. He was picture perfect with all the qualities she wanted in a man. What a fucking idiot she thought. She hated herself for even thinking about him so damn much, he certainly did not deserve her time. This was a celebration, a joyous occasion, and here she was dwelling on a married man, a man she could never have. She promised herself not to think about him anymore as
she headed towards the bar to drown her sorrows.

  Feeling the soothing effects of the alcohol Desiree raised her glass to toast. “We’re fucking rich bitch!” She yelled into Camille’s ear over the loud music of Kesha’s old hit, Tik Tok. How apropos, Desiree thought. The lyrics to the song mimicked the way she was feeling at the moment. It was way she lived her entire life. One big party that would go on all night because she didn’t have a care in the world. Tik Tok, she never wanted the party to stop. She wanted to stay there all night, get drunk until the police kicked them out. They were single, rich, young, and beautiful. They were living the life. The life she always wanted.

  Camille raised her glass to toast her best friend. Together they danced around as they sang to the lyrics of their life. Don't stop, make it pop DJ blow my speakers up tonight, imma fight til we see the sunlight tik tok, on the clock but the party don't stop no whoa-oh oh oh whoa-oh oh oh.

  It didn’t take long before they were surrounded by men and women eager to join in on the fun, maybe even get lucky. They behaved with reckless abandon; dancing and drinking like there would be no tomorrow.

  Roman appeared in the shadows. Far enough to not be seen but close enough to witness Desiree’s behavior as she consumed one drink after the other as if her stomach was made of iron. He watched as she danced around enjoying herself in the arms of strangers allowing them to take advantage of her body, touching and rubbing against her. To the rational world, it looked like Desiree was only letting loose, having a little fun, or just celebrating her accomplishments.

  Roman was not rational. He saw it differently. Her behavior was that of a loose woman out on the prowl. One who would readily fuck the first man who approached her with an erection.

  The beast in him wanted to step forward and put an end to such lewd and lascivious behavior. Instead, he stepped back further into the shadows, turning away to calm himself. It would do him no good to approach her now. Once Desiree was his, he would see to it that she carried herself in a manner befitting a vampire’s consort.