Vengeance in Blood (Book 3): Reborn

by Watson, Thomas A.

  “That’s why we are doing it,” Tiffany said, grabbing the bottle when Besseta had set it down and draining it when she felt the plane picking up speed. “You’ve seen my life, you should know why.”

  Grabbing her glass, Besseta sat back. “Tiffany told me that’s why she drinks when she flies. Alcohol deadens that part of your brain and you can’t make the ‘want’ actually happen.”

  Kenneth looked down, thinking hard over what he saw in Tiffany’s mind. Feeling the plane start to lift off, he reached over and drained the glass Besseta was holding. “Didn’t remember that,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “I’m sure it was the same every other time I looked in someone’s mind.”

  “Fucking great,” Tiffany mumbled, closing her eyes. “And just how many times have you done that?”

  When the plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign went off, Tiffany turned around to look over her seat at the cockpit area. “Hey, this one is empty. Bring more vodka, please. Let’s do two bottles this time, because they drank some before I could finish the bottle,” she called out.

  The stewardess came back, carrying two bottles and glasses, and trying really hard not to laugh. “It’s not funny,” Tiffany said, taking one of the bottles. “They know I have to drink to get in a can with big engines and get launched off the planet.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she snorted as Tiffany ripped the top off the bottle and turned it up. The stewardess’s eyes got big and the grin fell off, watching Tiffany drain the fifth of vodka; nonstop.

  “Ah,” Tiffany said, lowering the bottle and feeling the alcohol take effect. “Shit, that’s better. I’ll have a glass of wine now, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the stewardess said in amazement.

  “Bathroom?” Tiffany asked with a little slur. The stewardess pointed to the back of the plane. Unbuckling her seatbelt, “The damn toilet better not suck me out,” Tiffany slurred, walking to the back of the plane with a slight stagger.

  “Ms. Green is the best contract lawyer there is,” Kenneth told the stewardess as Besseta filled his glass. “What she charges the firm when she has to fly should be criminal, though.”

  “If she hates flying that much, they need to pay her more,” the stewardess replied numbly, walking back to the front of the plane. “A whole fucking bottle,” she mumbled under her breath as she walked away.

  “We need to take Tiffany to a college campus,” Kenneth said, taking a sip of vodka. “We could make a killing off her in a drinking contest.”

  Besseta slammed her glass down. “I can drink her ass under the table,” she stated confidently, refilling the glass. “I’m from Scotland, babe.”

  “Baby, we are up. He still has his knowledge,” Kenneth laughed.

  “Landing is where most crashes happen,” she said, picking her glass up. Kenneth laughed as she drained it and refilled her glass. He was very happy to see her nurse the next glass.

  Staggering around the table, Tiffany dropped into her chair. “You have got to see the damn bathroom!” she cried out. “You don’t have to fold your legs over your head to use it. There is even a dining table and a bed back there.”

  Arching her right eyebrow, Besseta put her glass down. “You bring what I like you to wear?”

  Giving a groan, “No, I left the banana hammock,” Kenneth answered slowly, rolling his eyes up.

  “Get naked, let’s try out the bed. Momma wants to get nasty,” she said, reaching over and running her hand under his jacket.

  “Besseta!” Tiffany snapped, slapping the table and making Besseta jump and look at her. “Bullshit. You will break this plane. Your fucking house is made of marble and there are cracks in the floor from you riding Kenneth like some cheap rocking horse, bumping nasties.”

  Hearing that from Tiffany, Kenneth’s mouth fell open and Besseta gasped. “I most certainly, don’t ride him like a cheap rocking horse.”

  “Besseta, you were screaming ‘Give it to momma’ so fucking loud, I’m sure they heard it on the other side of the lake in Canada. I felt the tremors through the house,” Tiffany snapped. “Kenneth is a va-, like us now and when he came down, there was a red hand print on each ass cheek from you spanking him. You know how hard you have to slap one of our kind to leave a mark like that twenty minutes later?”

  With her cheeks turning red, Besseta’s mouth fell open hearing Tiffany. “I never did that,” Besseta gasped.

  Tiffany turned to Kenneth. “Kenneth?”

  Gulping half his glass down, “I don’t remember,” he offered.

  “Chicken shit,” Tiffany grumbled and looked at Besseta. “I don’t care, but not in this plane, or any plane I’m on with you.”

  Leaning over the table, “I really said that?” Besseta whispered.

  Tiffany just looked at Besseta with a flat expression as the stewardess came back carrying a bottle of wine and set down three glasses and left. “Yeah, you did,” Tiffany replied in a flat voice.

  “I can’t believe that,” Besseta said, leaning back in her chair as Kenneth stood up and took off his jacket, putting it on the back of his seat. Loosening his tie, he sat back down. Besseta cut her eyes at him and started licking her lips as her eyes narrowed.

  “Kenneth, put your jacket back on,” Tiffany said, grabbing the wine bottle and filling a glass.

  “No, baby,” Besseta almost growled. “Go ahead and take your shirt off and get comfortable, we are going to be flying for hours.”

  Kenneth glanced at Besseta and jumped, seeing the predatory face licking its lips. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, getting up.

  “I’ll help,” Besseta said, jumping up.

  “You sit your ass back down,” Tiffany snapped. Besseta just glared at Tiffany. “I will make your ass, now sit,” Tiffany warned, picking up her wine glass. “When we land, you can throw him down and make hot monkey love until he cries.”

  Staring at Tiffany, Kenneth stumbled back, not liking the sound of that. Besseta clapped her hands giggling and jumped back into her seat. “Oh yeah, that sounds good,” she giggled naughtily.

  Kenneth walked away in somewhat of a shock. “I don’t know if I want to land.”

  “The plane can’t stay up forever, baby, and momma is gettin’ her some luvin’,” Besseta said, grabbing the bottle of vodka. “Have some serious ‘want’ going on here,” she growled and drained the bottle.

  Glad that Besseta wasn’t going to break the plane, Tiffany relaxed and smiled. “Yes, seeing their new body does take some getting used to.”

  “How long did it take you?” Besseta asked, filling a wine glass.

  “Sixty years before I could just look at Herotho without jumping him. Another fifty until I could think about him and not take off and find him and throw him down,” Tiffany sighed, draining her glass. “To be honest, you are handling it much better than I did. Herotho and I were living outside of Athens when his body went to its prime. One day, we were in the market and I jumped him. All he was wearing was a loincloth, and the next thing I know, I had him down on the roadway. We only lived six miles away, but it took us four days to get home. We left craters in the roadway every time I threw him down.”

  With a lustful grin, Besseta growled, “Sixty years.”

  Leaning back to the table, Tiffany refilled her glass, “I think it may be a little longer for you.”

  “Is it safe to sit down?” Kenneth asked, looking at the grin on Besseta’s face. When she looked up at him, Kenneth started having serious thoughts about jumping out.

  “I could catch you before you hit the ground,” Besseta said, narrowing her eyes and dropping them to his body. “I’m buying you a loincloth.”

  “Tiffany, you’re not helping,” Kenneth whispered harshly, getting back into his chair as he kept a wary eye on Besseta.

  “She’s not going to break the plane, so I don’t care,” Tiffany said, draining her glass.

  “Yeah, but what about me?” Kenneth asked as Besseta drained another glass of wine, looking a
t him and licking her lips again.

  “You’ll heal,” Tiffany grinned.

  “Baby, can you please stop? I can hear what’s in your mind, you don’t have to provide images,” Kenneth said, grabbing the bottle of wine. Kicking off her shoes, Besseta pulled her feet up in the chair and turned toward Kenneth, crouching down as she growled. Seeing Besseta out of the corner of his eye ready to spring at him, Kenneth wiped the sweat off his forehead.

  Draining the glass, Kenneth pressed the intercom, trying to ignore the predator beside him. “Vodka, two bottles,” he said.

  The stewardess came back carrying two bottles and stopped, looking at Besseta growling at Kenneth. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Besseta wasn’t mad at him, or what she wanted from the lustful look on her face. Scared to get any closer, she held the bottles over Tiffany’s seat. “Here,” she said.

  Tiffany took the bottles and handed them to Kenneth. “We’re newlyweds,” Kenneth said, taking the top off one bottle.

  “There’s a bed in the back,” the stewardess said with uncertainty.

  “She will break the plane,” Tiffany said, refilling her glass. “More wine, please.”

  “I don’t remember acting like that,” the stewardess mumbled with envy, turning around and walking off.

  Still not looking at Besseta, Kenneth drank half the bottle. “Besseta, you’re making me a bit uneasy,” he said, putting the bottle on the table.

  “You’re a big boy,” she hissed. “Momma will take care of daddy.”

  Running a finger around his collar wanting more slack, he turned to Besseta and jumped in his seat. “Besseta, you’re drooling everywhere.”

  “So much better to eat you with,” she grinned and licked her lips.

  “Tiffany, a little help here would be appreciated.”

  The stewardess ran back and froze, seeing Besseta ready to pounce on Kenneth. She handed the bottle to Tiffany and took off running. Tiffany refilled her glass. “When we land, I’m getting some of those frilly things girls use to yell at sporting contests, and cheer her on when she throws you down.”

  “Pom-poms,” Kenneth mumbled. “Besseta,” he said, holding up his hand. “Tell you what. You control your urges now and when we get to Vegas, you can pick out any banana hammock you want, and I’ll wear it.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Besseta grinned, curling her lips.

  Tiffany giggled as Besseta relaxed, but kept her feet in the seat facing Kenneth. “Kenneth, could we get a plane like this?” Tiffany asked.

  “Tiffany, this plane is an easy twenty million,” he said, still feeling like a lamb next to a tiger.

  “So, we don’t have that much,” Tiffany whined.

  Wanting to go back to bed and start the day over, Kenneth rubbed his face. “No, Besseta could buy two hundred of the things, but the plane has to be maintained regularly.”

  “Oh, well, I have much more than Besseta has,” Tiffany sighed, draining her glass. “Let’s buy two of these, so one will always be ready to go.”

  Besseta slinked over the armrest and onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Can you guess what we’re going to do when the plane lands?”

  “Something tells me, it’s not play chess,” Kenneth mumbled and looked over at Tiffany. “Tiffany, these planes need a lot of upkeep that I can’t do.”

  “Okay, so we will buy three and pay people to work on two, so one is always ready to go.”

  Giving a long sigh, Kenneth leaned back in his chair, giving up. “Fine, that sounds good,” he mumbled as Besseta pulled her legs over the chair onto his lap.

  She spun around on his lap and straddled him. “These planes have automatic controls, don’t they?” she breathed with a wicked grin as her toes gripped the sides of Kenneth’s legs.

  “Baby, you don’t leave the cockpit just because you turn on the automatic pilot,” he said and couldn’t help but grin at her.

  “Is there enough room on the floor for us to lay down on?”

  “Baby, why are we going to Vegas?”

  “To land, so I can throw you down.”

  “What about Maliki?”

  “Fuck ‘em,” she said, locking her mouth on his as she ran her hands over Kenneth’s chest.

  “Ow,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling his mouth back. “Damn it, that hurt.”

  “You’ll heal. I won’t feel bad anymore, I promise,” she said, locking her mouth over his again.

  Shaking her head, Tiffany watched as she refilled her glass. “Ah, little Besseta, it is so good to see you happy,” she chuckled.

  Besseta leaned back and grabbed Kenneth’s shirt. “Suck it up and be tough. Quit whining. I can hear your thoughts, remember?” she said, pulling him up. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll be happy when we land.”

  “Baby, you need to calm down just a little, or I’m going to break this plane,” Kenneth admitted, panting hard and rubbing his hands on her back.

  “Besseta, get off his lap. He’s not kidding,” Tiffany blurted out as she stood up. “You’re getting his motor running.”

  “About damn time,” she growled, lunging and locking her mouth over Kenneth’s. Tiffany jumped around the table and pulled Besseta off of Kenneth. Putting Besseta in her seat, Kenneth started to lunge at Besseta and Tiffany grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

  “Kids, wait until we land,” she snapped. They both looked up at her with glares. “Be mad all you want. I don’t want you to break the plane.”

  “I’ll buy them a new one,” Besseta said, moving back toward Kenneth.

  Yanking Besseta back to her chair, Tiffany reached down and clipped the seatbelt. “Undo it and I’ll hold you here, and I’m not talking about physically. I have no desire to be in a crash,” Tiffany said and looked up at Kenneth. “Quit leading her on and teasing her!”

  “What?” Kenneth gasped, jumping back. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Tiffany sat back down and poured another glass. “Yes, you did, just sitting there looking all sexy.”

  “Yeah, he did,” Besseta said, whipping her head and locking Kenneth in a lustful gaze. “I’ll teach you to tease me.”

  Looking at Besseta’s face framed by her curly long red hair, “Oh, yeah,” Kenneth grinned.

  Picking up her glass, Tiffany sighed. “I always wondered what it would be like to have kids. Now, I know,” she said, draining her glass. “Part of me doesn’t really feel all that bad now for not being able to have any.”

  When the plane landed, the stewardess seemed to be really happy to see them leave. Kenneth had his coat over one arm carrying his briefcase, and his hair was very messed up when he nodded at the stewardess, walking out. Besseta followed him carrying her jacket over her arm, and her briefcase and her shoes in the other hand. Her hair was ten times worse than Kenneth’s.

  Tiffany stopped at the stewardess. “Thank you, you were a gracious host.”

  “Thank you, I hope your business trip works out well for you.”

  “If I didn’t love those two so much, I would start my own business,” Tiffany said, walking out regally; the only one completely dressed with her hair and attire still neat.

  She met the two at the bottom of the stairs to see a long black car waiting on them with a man holding a sign with Kenneth’s cover name. “I take it, he is here for us?” Tiffany asked.

  “Yeah,” Besseta said, dragging Kenneth. “We don’t have to drive.”

  “Where to, Mr. Reynold?” the driver asked, opening the door.

  Barely pausing as she passed the driver, Besseta looked at him. “Excalibur Hotel and step on it, momma needs lovin’.”

  Kenneth gave the driver a goofy grin as Besseta yanked him in the back. The driver turned to look at Tiffany as she walked over. “If you don’t want your car broken, I suggest you not look at the local ruler’s maximum speed signs.”

  The driver closed the door and ran around the limo, jumping in after hearing Tiffany’s warning. “That doesn’t look comfortabl
e.”

  The limo was pulling up to the Excalibur in less than ten minutes. Kenneth lowered the partition glass and held out two hundred-dollar bills. “Thank you,” he panted with a grin, buttoning up his shirt. The driver took the money, nodding with a forced smile. He could swear the back of his car had bounced a foot off the road a few times.

  “Damn it, quit stalling,” Besseta snapped, yanking Kenneth out of the limo by his leg. Kenneth threw his shoes down and shoved his feet into them. He saw Tiffany carrying his and Besseta’s jackets and briefcases. Kenneth pulled out a twenty, handing it to the valet. “Let’s go, unless, you’re ready to go here,” Besseta cried out, barefoot and dragging him inside by the arm, holding her shoes in her other hand.

  Tiffany looked at the valet with a stern face. “They love each other.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said, bowing.

  Tiffany walked in and found Besseta yelling at a woman behind a counter. “Look, the suite is paid for, just give me something to get in the damned room!”

  “I’m coding your card, ma’am,” the young woman smiled nervously.

  “Fuck it, what room?! I’ll kick the door down!” Besseta snapped, pulling Kenneth away from the counter.

  “Here, ma’am,” the young lady said, holding out the card.

  Besseta snatched the card and almost pulled Kenneth’s arm off as she took off to the elevator. “You let that door close without us, I’ll rip your legs off!” Besseta shouted at a bellhop.

  Not knowing what room or anything about this massive building they were in, Tiffany ran after them. Reaching the elevator, Besseta pinned Kenneth in the corner. She turned to see Tiffany jogging toward them. “You need to move your ass,” Besseta suggested, jumping up and wrapping her legs around Kenneth’s waist.

  The bellhop held the door as Tiffany trotted in, and animal sounds came from behind him as Besseta and Kenneth locked mouths. “Room?” he asked as the door closed, but refused to turn around. Besseta held out the electronic card.

  Taking the card, Tiffany handed it to the bellhop. “Make the little room move,” she sighed with a grin. “The car ride over didn’t do much for the urges.”