Night Intrigue [Night 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Night Intrigue [Night 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 11

by Leah Brooke


  He blinked, gulping as he looked around again. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m expecting someone any minute and—”

  “I’m afraid Rita won’t be coming. I’m here in her place. I know all about your little arrangement with her.”

  He stared at her for several long seconds, the look of stunned stupefaction on his face making her smile. He blinked, and the look was gone, replaced by a cool look of derision. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His gaze darted back and forth. “What are you really doing here? What’s going on?”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Serena glanced around and smiled again. “Do you really want to talk about it out here?”

  Looking around again, DuBois nodded. “Fine, but leave that dog outside.”

  Serena hardened her features, fighting panic. “Nope. Where I go, Rip goes. If you’d rather I called the authorities and explained what you’ve been doing…” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a disk. “Then you can explain to them why you’ve been selling information to—”

  With an angry snarl, DuBois grabbed her arm and yanked her inside, releasing her just as abruptly when Rip growled and leapt forward, his jaws snapping. DuBois jerked his arm back just in time to keep from getting bitten. “Damned dog!”

  He slammed the door closed and started to grab her arm again, but another growl from Rip had him pulling his hand back. “Come in here and tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Calm down, baby.

  The sound of Ian’s voice in her head settled her some and reminded her that both he and Alastair were close by if she needed them.

  Following Jean Paul across the foyer, she glanced at the small table on her left, and the drawer where he kept his gun.

  As if to remind her of his presence as well, Rip nudged her thigh.

  She smiled down at him. You’re a good boy. Remember what I told you. When I give you the signal, you run to Ian.

  Patting Rip’s head, she met DuBois’s gaze again, lowering herself to a chair. “I’m taking Rita’s place.” Holding her hand out, she studied her glove and watched him pace back and forth across from her. “I know all about your arrangement with her. It’s over. Now your arrangement is with me.”

  “I don’t know anyone named Rita Savon.”

  “Then how did you know that Rita’s last name was Savon?”

  * * * *

  Ian’s lips twitched, years of practice enabling him to connect to his brother, the instinctive way he had to learn to connect with Serena. She’s good, isn’t she?

  I told you that we had to give her a chance. She needs to spread her wings a little and learn that she can fly.

  I can’t believe she talked her way into his house.

  Are you kidding? No one comes into our house, and yet you brought her home with you from her cousin’s wedding reception, and within minutes of meeting her.

  I didn’t have much choice. She knew who I was right away.

  Then trust her instincts.

  Ian stiffened, listening to Serena alternately charm and scare DuBois, her daring and skill making him love her even more. I’m more comfortable trusting mine.

  * * * *

  DuBois shook his head. “No.”

  “The truth is, Jean Paul, you don’t have any choice. Rita’s dead.”

  Jean Paul whirled on her, the blood draining out of his face. “You’re lying.”

  Serena gestured toward the laptop sitting on his coffee table and tossed the disk in his direction. “Take a look at that.”

  You’re doing great, darling. Take a few deep breaths.

  Serena followed Alastair’s advice, smiling when Rip turned to lick the top of her hand as if in encouragement.

  Jean Paul’s face lost the rest of its color as he watched the disk showing Rita with Tom, followed by the image of Tom leaving and then Rita lying dead on the floor. Dropping into a chair, he swallowed heavily. “She’s dead. But this makes it look like Tom killed her.” He reached for the almost empty bottle of cognac and poured the rest of it into his glass.

  Serena held out her hand, hiding her reaction to the fear and anger that went through him. “Which is why I’m keeping it. I want more information from him and what’s on this disk will keep him in line.”

  Jean Paul ejected the disk and sat back, tapping it on his thigh, his foggy brain trying to figure out how he could blackmail her in return. “What makes you sure that I’ll give this back to you? I can cut out the middle man.” He planned to be both her partner and her lover but planned to do it in a way that left him in charge.

  Smiling, Serena crossed one leg over the other and ran her fingertips over Rip’s head. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out another disk. “Because you want what I have on this disk. I want to keep the disk of Garner’s exploits for myself. He’s a good boy when someone forces him to behave.”

  Jean Paul sat back, his eyes going wide. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re into that sort of thing?” He gulped the cognac like water.

  Serena raised a brow at that. “Who do you think taught her how to be such a good Mistress?” Shrugging, she grinned. “Of course she’s not as good as I am, but that’s something you’ll soon find out for yourself.”

  Rising to his feet, he smiled sardonically. “What are you saying? You don’t think you’re going to do that kind of stuff to me, do you?” He handed her the disk he’d watched and held out his hand for the other.

  Accepting it, Serena tucked it into her pocket before handing him the one she held. “Oh, I’m going to do things to you that will rock your world.”

  Jean Paul looked momentarily shocked, his recovery not as fast as before. Turning, he tossed the disk near his laptop and dropped back onto the sofa again, eyeing her intently and thinking about how he could use the threat of telling Wyn about her to his advantage. “Does Wyn know about this? Does he know that you’re a murderer and a dominatrix? A blackmailer?”

  “No, and I don’t want him to. He’s very sweet and thinks I am, too.” Pursing her lips, she looked around the room. “I don’t want him to be…disillusioned.”

  * * * *

  Sweet? Ian was careful to make sure his thoughts went only to his brother, not wanting to distract Serena, who still seemed a little nervous. He felt Alastair’s amusement and knew his brother had moved closer to the house.

  She must be talking about me, Ian, because you’re not sweet at all. Tell the truth. When she told him that she was a dominatrix, did you get a mental picture of her dressed in leather?

  Don’t remind me. His cock jumped again at the thought of Serena dressed so seductively. That outfit she’s wearing now is driving me crazy. I’m going to strip her out of her and fuck her senseless when we get home.

  She’s amazing, isn’t she?

  Ian closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his sweet, innocent lover lie through her teeth. Yeah. She sure as hell is. Can you see them?

  No. He’s got all the drapes closed. I’ve heard Rip growl a few times. I don’t like it.

  She’s doing fine. I’m moving in closer.

  I am, too. I know. She’s doing well, but I still worry. He sounds drunk, which makes him even more unpredictable.

  Yeah, and Serena’s ability to know what he’s thinking makes it easy for her to push his buttons with incredible accuracy. She’s getting a little too brave for my peace of mind.

  * * * *

  Leaning forward, Jean Paul smiled, a cunning smile that sent a chill through her. “And exactly what would you do to make it worth my while to keep your secrets?”

  Serena patted Rip’s head when he growled. “I may be willing to keep some of your activities…confidential.”

  Raising a brow, Jean Paul leaned forward and reached for the pack of cigarettes and lighter lying next to his laptop, gesturing toward the disk. “Since you’re the one who gave me this information, I don’t think you’d want me to be questioned about wher
e I got it.” He touched the flame of the lighter to the tip of his cigarette before tossing the lighter onto the coffee table. Leaning back, he inhaled deeply. “You, however, are also guilty of murder.”

  Serena grinned, knowing that her confidence diminished his. “Something that no one would ever be able to prove, least of all you. I’m better at covering my tracks than you are.” Lifting a gloved hand, she waved her fingers. “I wasn’t stupid enough to leave my fingerprints on the disks.”

  Jean Paul’s features hardened in anger. “Even the one that’s in your pocket?”

  Fury poured off of him in waves, but he struggled to keep a calm façade. “You’ve got my prints on that disk. In the right hands, that makes me look guilty as hell. So you’re planning to blackmail me by making it look like I’m the one who filmed Rita’s death, which makes me a suspect.”

  “Bravo.” Tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, she pursed her lips. “You’ve been a very bad boy. You left your fingerprints somewhere else, didn’t you?”

  Jean Paul jumped to his feet, earning another growl from Rip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do.” Sitting forward, she ran her hand down Rip’s back to calm him. “You just couldn’t resist touching all of those exquisite stones, could you?”

  “What?” His eyes went wide, his face losing all color. Gulping, he stubbed his cigarette out and lit another. “You’re talking in riddles, and I don’t have time for them.”

  “Am I? I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, and I think you should make a little time to talk about those jewels. They’re missing, aren’t they?”

  He jumped to his feet again, striding angrily toward her. He stopped abruptly when Rip came to attention and crouched low, the angry German shepherd emitting a growl that sent a chill down her spine.

  It apparently scared the crap out of Jean Paul, who turned white again. “You’re the one who stole them from me?”

  Serena shrugged, smiling but saying nothing.

  Turning away, Jean Paul began pacing again, running a hand though his hair as he went back to the coffee table for another cigarette, apparently not realizing that he already had one burning in the ashtray.

  He inhaled deeply and went to the window, staring out into the darkness. “What do you want?”

  Hiding a smile at his tone, Serena rose and strolled toward him. “More of a cut.”

  Bringing up the subject of money automatically made him think of it and gave her the information she needed.

  “I’ve got Garner right where I want him, and I can handle him a lot better than Rita did. He’ll get me even more. Rita was happy with what she thought was twenty percent but was really ten.”

  Moving to stand next to him, she leaned against the wall and turned toward him, finding it increasingly difficult to focus with the waves of rage pouring off of him.

  When he came to the decision to kill her, that made it even more difficult.

  Knowing that Ian and Alastair would pick up on any strong emotion from her, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. “I want fifty.”

  Jean Paul whirled toward her, gaping at her incredulously. “Fifty?”

  Serena smiled, hiding her distaste while running a hand over his arm as she walked past him. “Fifty. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. If you’re a good boy, I might even give those jewels back to you.”

  He spun, reaching out to grip her arm, but a growl from Rip had him yanking his hand back. His expression softened as he took a step toward her, his smile fake and what he probably considered charming. “I still can’t figure out how you managed to steal from me, but I want to know why.” Reaching out, he ran a finger down her cheek. “Why did you do it? If you wanted to get my attention, all you had to do was show up. You’re incredibly beautiful. You and I could be so good together.” Despite his tender smile, Jean Paul felt nothing but hatred for her and had already decided to kill her.

  * * * *

  Alastair tensed at the steely undertone in DuBois voice. I don’t like this.

  I knew it. She’s kicking ass in there—even scared me a couple of times—but this isn’t for her.

  She’s not letting us in. She promised to try, and I don’t even think she’s trying. Clenching his jaw, Alastair set his binoculars aside and started the engine with the intention of moving his car a little closer. She’s scared.

  She’s terrified, and the fact that she’s trying to hide it from us scares me even more. I ought to paddle her sweet ass.

  * * * *

  Serena hoped her smile hid her fear, the sudden realization that, although she’d been warned about what he was going to do, his desperation might make escape impossible. “I did it partly to get your attention and partly to show you that I’m not the woman you thought I was.”

  He smiled, but his eyes hardened as he took a slow step toward her. “What if I tell Wyn about this? About you? I can give him all the dirty details.”

  Serena inwardly winced at the threat in his tone and nonchalantly put several feet of distance between them, fighting to appear amused. “He won’t believe you. Wyn thinks I’m an angel. When is your next drop?”

  “None of your business.” Jean Paul frowned, lifting his chin. “Why do you want to know?” His suspicion that she wanted to follow him came through loud and clear.

  So did the knowledge that he would make the drop at five in the morning.

  He felt increasingly threatened, which scared him.

  His fear infuriated him and made him even more determined to get rid of her. He planned to use the tapes he already had to blackmail Tom Garner into giving him information.

  Cutting out the middleman appealed to him and would allow him to keep the money he usually gave to Rita. Confident that he could do it, he began to get excited about killing her, thrilling at the added bonus of what it would do to Wyn.

  It didn’t surprise her to know that he didn’t fear getting caught at all.

  Casually moving toward the door, she kept him in her sights. “Since I know you’re getting two hundred and fifty thousand, I’ll expect my half tomorrow afternoon. We’re fifty-fifty partners now.”

  Serena, get out of there. Now!

  Jolting at Ian’s sharp command, Serena involuntarily took another step toward the door. “Call me when you’ve finished your business.” Pausing, she reached out to place a hand on Rip’s head, silently warning him to be ready. “If you try to skip out on me, or suddenly leave for Europe unexpectedly, I’m not going to be happy. I might feel the need to turn those jewels over to the authorities. Once they get your fingerprints off of them, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  Turning, she went to the door, trembling with nerves. Trying to keep her steps slow and even, she kept her hand buried in Rip’s fur and focused her attention on Ian and Alastair.

  He’s meeting another man—he doesn’t know his name—at five in the morning. Central Park. The place in the painting.

  Why are you telling us this now?

  Serena sucked in a breath at the panic in Ian’s tone. Just in case.

  In case? In case what, Serena. Talk to me, damn it!

  Wincing at the string of inventive curses that poured from him, Serena blocked him out, knowing that focusing on Jean Paul could mean the difference between life and death.

  Jean Paul followed her to the door, pausing next to the small table. “What am I supposed to do if Wyn answers the phone? Have you thought of that?”

  Amused, she cocked her head and grinned. “You’re afraid of him. I could see it the other night at the party. You know he’s not the soft type like the people in your world. He’s hard as steel all the way through, and he could tear you apart without even breaking a sweat. If something happened to me, he wouldn’t rest until he’d ripped you apart into tiny little pieces.”

  And enjoy it immensely. I’m coming, darling. Hold on.

  She thought she’d closed
out both Ian’s and Alastair’s voices, but Alastair punched through the screen, his voice as loud and clear as if he’d been standing next to her.

  Jean Paul’s evil smile sent a chill through her. “He doesn’t even know you’re here. Remember? Anything could happen to you when you sneak off to see me.”

  Serena smiled coldly, her heart pounding nearly out of her chest. “Believe me, I have insurance in case it does.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Chilled, she walked from the house, aware of the waves of evil coming from directly behind her.

  She’d pushed him too far, but she hadn’t had a choice.

  She moved faster, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

  The voices of her lovers rang in her head, and with a mental shout at Rip to run, she darted to the right, the sound of her heart pounding drowning out everything except the gunshot.

  A sob escaped when the bullet whizzed past her ear, her heart in her throat when it hit the tree directly in front of her.

  “Serena!” Alastair’s voice had her darting to the right just as another shot rang out.

  She could feel Ian and Alastair closing in as another shot rang out, but she could also feel Jean Paul closing in from behind, fear and desperation fueling his anger.

  Another shot rang out and then another, and with Rip at her side, she raced through the darkness in a desperate attempt to get to her lovers.

  * * * *

  Alastair reached her first, grabbing her close and turning with her in his arms, using his body to shield her as he took both of them to the ground. With his heart in his throat, he ran his hands over her, dreading what he might find. “Are you hit?”

  Her sobs tore at him, and unable to see her in the park-like setting around the houses, he fought his instinctive need to get her the hell out of there, taking the time to check her for injuries so that he didn’t hurt her worse.

  To his surprise, Rip planted himself between her feet, his low growl ominous in the darkness.

 

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