Saxon's Conquest (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  “Saxon can be intense,” Madison confided in a whisper. “Right now, his instinct is to shield you in the best way he knows how, to get you out of harm’s way. Once he tried to protect Micah – from me! Saxon thought I was bad for him.” She laughed. “He was wrong. I’m the best thing that ever happened to Micah.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I’ll tell you the whole story one day, but suffice it to say that he jumped to the wrong conclusions for all the right reasons. When Saxon realized he was wrong, he apologized.” Madison took a drink from her water bottle. “As you know, these are unusual men. Our courtship was different, to say the least. Micah was on a mission in Mexico part of the time. We did most of our sharing in texts and emails. To show us how much he supported our relationship, Saxon made us this beautiful memory book that contained every word we’d ever exchanged online and on our phones.”

  “You’re kidding! He hacked your tests and emails to make you a keepsake. That sounds just like him. He probably didn’t even see anything wrong with what he did, did he?”

  Madison laughed too. “No, he didn’t. The man is seriously weird…but I think he loves you.”

  “I don’t know.” Her heart jumped in her chest at the thought. “Sometimes I think we have a special connection.” Who was she kidding? The stubborn nerd meant more to her than Alivia ever thought possible. “I just can’t walk away until I know for sure.” From the investigation or from Saxon.

  “I know you can’t. We need to solve this thing. Then we’ll lay Victoria to rest and start putting our lives back together.”

  The mention of Destry’s girlfriend caused both women to reflect quietly until a commotion at the door caused them to look up. Micah was conferring with three of the Equalizers – Destry, Tyson, and Titus. Saxon wasn’t with them.

  “I think I’ll go look for him, Madison.” She rose to leave the room but didn’t get far. Micah noticed her and came over, handing Alivia a slip of paper. “I conferred with the police and here’s the statement we’ve agreed upon.” Glancing at her costume, he looked to Madison. “Can Alivia borrow your sweater?”

  Madison rose and removed the garment she was wearing. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.” Alivia accepted the sweater and slipped it on, reading the document she’d been given aloud. Hello, my name is Alivia Hart, and I’m representing East Texas in the Miss Texas pageant. I’m also part of a team in place to protect the contestants and the attendees from whoever has intended them harm. We are pleased to announce we have a suspect in custody and that the historical and legendary Miss Texas pageant will continue as planned. More details will be released to the public as they are known.

  “I think that’ll do the job, don’t you?” Micah motioned for several reporters to enter the control room.

  “What about questions? Should I take any?”

  Micah considered it. “Yea, just watch me, I’ll tell you when to answer, and when to give a ‘no comment at this time’ response.” He bit his lower lip and smirked. “If you get the chance to work in an insult or two to the killer, maybe some psychological mumbo-jumbo about him being sexually inadequate, do that.”

  “All right.” Alivia nodded. “I think I can work that in.”

  “Good. Ready?”

  “Where’s Saxon?” she asked him as she steeled herself to face the cameras again.

  “He’s close by, I assure you.” Micah gave her a comforting pat. “He won’t go far; the man is crazy about you. He would do anything in the world to keep you safe.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Out in the parking lot, Saxon paced back and forth. With clenched fists, he tried to calm down, wanting nothing more than to barrel back in there to confront Micah for daring to put Alivia in danger. “Fuck it all,” he muttered, raking his hand through his hair. He was angry at his friend, but he knew Alivia wanted to do this. She was as stubborn as the rest of them.

  And brave.

  And beautiful.

  Walking off his turmoil, Saxon knew he’d do whatever it took to ensure her safety.

  A few minutes later, he was about to go back in, determined to make things right with her, when a sign reminding people to donate blood caught his eye. Knowing it would please Alivia, he headed in the direction the arrow was pointing to give a pint. As he drew closer, he was surprised to see the big RV was gone from its designated spot. “What the hell?” Familiar with the agreement and the schedule, he knew it was supposed to be open for donations. “Where did it go?” Thinking it just might’ve moved to another area, he began to walk around the exterior of the center to see if he could locate it.

  …Inside the RV, Adam Curtiss sat staring at the small television screen as Alivia Hart gave a statement to the press. “So, they think they’ve caught me?” he said with a snort. “How fortuitous.” Listening carefully, he was surprised that no mention was made of the bodies he’d dumped. This confused Adam. He’d made the 911 calls himself, using a burner phone that he’d promptly thrown away. There was no way the cops could’ve missed his victims; he’d left them in fairly conspicuous places – in a parking garage and in a service elevator at a nearby hotel.

  “No, I won’t say the case is closed,” Alivia explained, “but we have a person of interest in custody who’s been detained for questioning.”

  Adam felt torn between relief and jealousy – relief that the cops focus was elsewhere, and jealousy that someone else was getting credit for his work. “Oh, well, the truth will come out soon enough.” Once he exterminated this nest of vipers, they’d know the one responsible was a master.

  As he watched the reporter questioning Alivia, he felt the familiar, almost uncontrollable urge to kill. “Calm down. This isn’t the plan.” Taking her would be a huge risk, better he let her die with the others in the explosion. Regret seeped through him. When the bomb went off, most would never know what hit them. Debating with himself, he caressed the Mark of Cain over his eye. “I want her to be afraid. To suffer for her sins.” She was the worst of the lot. He was no fool, she was using her body and her sensuality in an effort to entice him and any other man who came into contact with the slut.

  The reporter continued to question Alivia. “Can you tell us anything about the man who has committed these awful crimes, Miss Hart?”

  “Our team has been working with a psychological profiler. Generally speaking, we feel he’s an emotionally weak individual who feels sexually inadequate around women, especially accomplished beautiful women.”

  “Weak? Sexually inadequate?” Her words caused a flash of anger to rise within him. “Oh, you’re going to be sorry, bitch.” Adam gritted his teeth and glared at her image on the monitor. “You think you’re so smart.” He well remembered the day he’d met her at the blood bank. Josephine had introduced them, singing Alivia’s praises, saying she had quite a reputation in the tech world. Adam had been impressed, assuming she was a respectable woman.

  He’d been wrong.

  In her next sentence, she’d confided she would be taking part in the Miss Texas pageant, and Adam realized she was like all the rest of the women he was forced to punish. The only thing that set her apart, in his mind, was her rare blood type. He was fascinated with blood. Each time he left a calling card at one of his sacrifices, he’d use a sample from some random person at the blood bank, just to confuse the police. Upon learning Alivia was RH Null, he’d requested her permission to study a sample. He’d been intrigued to learn that only a few people in the world possessed this same type. While her universal blood could save countless individuals, if anything happened to Alivia and what she’d stored for her own use was unavailable, saving her would be next to impossible. So, even before his great plan came to fruition, knowing the type of woman Alivia Hart was, Adam Curtiss assumed his role as the hand of God and sealed her fate. How powerful he’d felt when he lowered the temperature in the special unit reserved for her by just enough degrees to make any deposits unusable in a matter of hours.

  As he watc
hed the press conference wind down, and Alivia Hart step away from the camera, the desire to hurt her was overwhelming. He felt like a wild animal craving prey. “Be sure your sins will find you out, Miss Hart. When you throw your lot in with godless heathens, you have to pay the price for your transgressions.” He began to weigh the possibility of another sacrifice offered by his own hands. The prospect made him jerk with anticipation, his breath coming in harsh pants.

  Checking the time, he knew he needed to get the RV in place. Once he did, he would have a short window of opportunity. Adam knew the path the contestants took in and out of the dressing rooms, and he had a program for tonight’s performances. He would be in place, and if the Lord was willing, he’d rain down judgement on the head of that unrighteous bitch.

  Feeling satisfied with his plan, he glanced up at the truck blocking the loading dock. The man driving the forklift looked to be on the last group of pallets to be transferred into the basement of the convention center. Once it was out of the way, he’d drive the RV into its final resting place. After studying the blueprint of the building, he’d determined that this was the perfect location for maximum destruction. The crowded auditorium was located right over this area, and the blast would completely obliterate everything on the floors above it.

  As soon as he dealt with Alivia Hart, he’d set off the timer on the detonator with the remote control he’d have in his possession, giving himself just enough time to get in position before the Eisemann Center became hell on earth. His father would be proud of him. “For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,” he whispered, licking his lips at the prospect.

  A noise outside the RV caused Adam to jerk up his head. Damn, someone was heading his way. After dealing with Josephine, he’d managed to avoid anyone else by rehanging the CLOSED sign on the RV. Most folks didn’t relish giving blood, so people weren’t beating down his door. Truth be known, when they saw the sign, they were probably relieved to find out they wouldn’t have to carry through on their benevolent gesture.

  “Oh, dammit.” This was no mere well-meaning do-gooder, this was one of those damn Equalizers. He’d counted on most of the security detail and investigative team to be off chasing clues on their suspect and the bodies he’d left for them to find.

  …Outside, Saxon gazed up at the tinted glass on the side of the mobile blood unit. What was it doing down here? The sign said CLOSED, but something could be wrong. Slapping the glass door with the flat of his hand, he called, “Hey, anyone in there?”

  With a whoosh, the door opened, and Saxon saw the bearded technician.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not accepting donations at the moment.”

  “Damn. I wanted to impress my girlfriend.” Saxon peered past the tech into the darkened interior of the RV. “Is something wrong, man? Why are you down here at the loading dock?”

  Adam was thankful he had an explanation ready, preparation is everything. “I have a few bags of garbage to put in the dumpster. Have to use a special one, medical waste, biohazard rules, you know.”

  Saxon nodded. “I see.” He brightened. “How about if I help you unload and you take a pint of blood from me. Sounds like a win/win for you, right?” As he held the odd man’s gaze, Saxon’s spidey-senses were tingling. What was going on?

  Adam weighed his options. “That won’t be necessary. If you’ll return in about a half hour, I’ll be back in my usual spot.”

  “This is my only opportunity.” Saxon delayed his departure, trying to figure out what was bothering him. “I sure would appreciate it. I’ll help you, and you won’t have to worry about waiting for that semi to finish unloading.”

  “Oh, all right. Hold on.” Having his plans go awry made Adam twitchy. He rose and walked to the back, finding the four bags of garbage he’d collected over the last few days.

  Saxon climbed the steps until he could see into the interior of the mobile unit. “Have you had a lot of people coming to give?”

  “Yea, it’s been going well.”

  “Great.” He glanced around. “My friend Tyson lived in an RV for years. Do you find them easy to drive?” His eyes landed on rosary beads hanging from the rearview mirror.

  “Took some getting used to.” Adam came forward with two big bags of garbage in each hand. “Here, thanks.”

  Saxon accepted two of the bags, taking a moment to look the man full in the face. “You’re welcome.” He grinned. “Does that beard get hot? I’ve thought about growing one. Shaving every day gets old.”

  “It’s all right.” Adam moved forward, forcing Saxon to back up. The sooner he could get the guy out of here, the better. Raising his hand, he rubbed the mark on his forehead.

  Until the guy touched it, Saxon hadn’t focused on the cross-shaped blemish. But when he did, alarm bells began to go off in his head. He narrowed his eyes, then glanced back at the rosary. Coincidence? “What did you say your name was?”

  “Adam.” He pushed on forward, crowding the other man toward the door. “Adam Curtiss.”

  “Curtiss, huh? How do you spell that? One ‘s’ or two?” He kept thinking of Father Curtiss Murray and the story Alivia had told him about the Adam in the Bible. Another coincidence?

  He didn’t think so.

  “Two. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.” Moving ahead of the man, Saxon exited the vehicle. The hair on his neck was standing up. “My name is Saxon Abbott. Where you from?”

  This man was asking way too many questions. As Adam moved behind him, he picked up a tire iron from the floorboard and held it close to his leg. This wasn’t a slight woman he was dealing with, but deal with him he would. “Originally? San Antonio.”

  “Nice city.” Saxon veered to one side, allowing room for the man to step up beside him. “The dumpsters are down here, in this back alley. This place is a maze, isn’t it?” When Curtiss didn’t answer, Saxon turned his head, just in time to see the iron rod coming right at his head.

  Two blows to the head were all he was able to wield before the sound of nearby voices reached Adam’s ears. Not wanting to be caught, he dragged Abbott’s big body over behind the dumpsters, then drew his arm back and struck the unconscious man twice more. “If you’re not dead, you soon will be.”

  Chunking the tire iron in the dumpster with the bags of garbage, he took off toward the RV. Hopefully, the eighteen-wheeler had been moved, and he could get his mobile bomb in place and finish what he’d been called upon to do.

  * * *

  “Where have you been, girl?” Lola stood next to her makeup station with hands on her hips. “You’re cutting this pretty close. The competition is well underway. Everyone else is already dressed!”

  “I know. Sorry.” Alivia climbed into the chair, leaning her broadsword on the wall by the mirrored cabinet.

  “Who’s that good-looking hunk of manhood lurking by the door?” The ebony skinned woman winked at Alivia.

  “His name is Titus Landry. He’s, uh, watching out for me.”

  “Hmmm, lucky you.” She began working on Alivia’s face, spreading a silky base over her smooth skin.

  “Yea, he’s a nice guy.” Just not the right guy. She didn’t know what Saxon was doing, but he certainly wasn’t with her. He hadn’t returned to the control room before she left.

  “You look nice.” Lola admired her outfit, then picked up the broadsword – or tried to. “Jesus! That’s heavy.” She frowned at Alivia. “How in God’s name do you handle that thing?”

  Alivia made a muscle. “I’m Wonder Woman, didn’t you know?”

  “Huh!” Lola laughed. “Come to think of it, I do see some resemblance. Well, you certainly must have superpowers to dance with that big ole thing.”

  As the makeup artist worked her magic, Alivia tried to mentally rehearse in her mind, going over the choreographed moves in her imagination. Just don’t let me mess this up, please.

  Once Lola was completed, Alivia took the opportunity to look around. She’d instructed Titus to hang back, even though he
was never more than a few yards away. Moving out into the hall, she carried the sword close to her body – hoping she looked forbidding. Several times, she would meet the eyes of men and each time she’d look for anything suspicious, any resemblance to that photograph of Cotton Mather.

  “Five minutes, Miss Hart!”

  “Oh, dratz,” she mumbled, feeling a bit queasy. While other beauty contestants had sung, played an instrument, or tapped dance, she was about to go out and do something between an interpretive dance and an exercise routine. Suddenly, she was struck by how dorky her act might seem to some people. Alivia felt her cheeks grow warm when she admitted to herself that she’d chosen something that reminded her of Saxon’s Conquest. Despite her nervousness, she smiled, remembering the day she’d met Saxon. In some ways, that day seemed like a lifetime ago. “Speaking of Saxon, where are you?” she mumbled.

  “Break a leg!” Titus spoke to her from his position just off stage. “And don’t worry, I’ll be close by.”

  “Thanks.” She took a deep breath, reminding herself of what they were doing and why. The act wasn’t important, catching the person responsible for murdering those women was paramount. “All right, I trust you.”

  “Me and my handy .38 will keep you safe.” He winked at her. “When you get through playing twinkle-toes, I’ll give your piece back to you.”

  “Good.” Micah had insisted she bring her firearm with her. They were trying to take every precaution, just to be on the safe side. Taking a deep breath, she went to stand in position by the stage director, awaiting her introduction. “Soon, this will all be over,” she promised herself. Afterward, she could find Saxon, and they could get back to the business of bringing down the killer – if he still wanted to work with her.

  … “Hey, fella, are you all right?”

  Saxon groaned as he opened his eyes to find two maintenance men standing on either side of him.

  “Do you need an ambulance?”