by Kacey Mark
She panned the crowd of nearly thirty people. How long had they all been waiting here? Shauna hadn’t seen any of them upstairs. Some unspoken order to behave seemed to be wearing thin. A squirmy vibe of sensual tension seemed to filter through the room. It touched and bounced from person to person, as one woman crossed and uncrossed her shapely legs, a tee-and-denim man paced back and forth along the nine-foot iron bars, and Shauna took a retreating step backward.
Her nerves flipped to panic mode.
The muggy warmth of body heat and perspiration saturated this place. The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end, and the sickening churn of her stomach went cold.
The heat would come soon.
Shauna swallowed. She’d been lucky to get this far, but now she teetered on the edge of an invisible threshold. She searched the room for open space. There wasn’t much, not enough to get away from the hormones thickening the air.
She took another step back.
The closest ventilation took the form of an enormous black gate, but that seemed to be what everyone waited on. Not the place for Shauna. In mere moments, she’d become a flaming doormat trampled by a lust-driven stampede.
Adrian pressed his lips to the back of her head. The moisture of his breath seeped into her hair. A cunning smile curled through his voice. “Problem?”
Shauna jumped forward, abandoning her subconscious disappearing act. Pretty lame, trying the squeeze herself into the crevice of his abs. “No. No problem,” she rushed to assure.
“Uh huh.”
She took an extra step away for good measure. Her gaze fell to where her arms squeezed protectively around her abdomen. She pushed out a slow breath, thankful no visible cloud of heat rolled from her lips. “So…what happens now?”
Adrian’s stormy-blue gaze lifted, and he offered a faint nod at the large gate.
A man, six foot tall and about that wide, had appeared on the other side. His grin stretched between the bars and his fidgety gaze danced eagerly through the crowd. A ring of keys jingled near the gate’s opening, but the man didn’t look down. He seemed to fumble in greedy haste at gaining access to his new patrons.
The hinges squawked in rust-eaten protest when the man swung the gate wide. He stepped back, but no one moved.
Shauna caught herself staring, too. That’s where they were headed?
Hydrangea and white moonflower blooms glowed amid the pillars of candle light. Waxy vines clung to the darkened hallways running in both directions. They draped over a massive iron gazebo that centered the largest indoor garden Shauna had ever seen.
She nodded to herself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Come on, come on,” urged the man. His grin widened, and he made a jumpy, coaxing motion as if drawing an entire herd of Hansels and Gretels into his kitchen.
Inside, the cement walls and cobblestone floor radiated with the sun-beaten warmth of July.
A little strange for October.
Tiny firefly lights pinpricked throughout the foliage, and mirrored the star-painted ceiling above. It seemed difficult to find any beginning or end.
Finding pain seemed no problem at all.
Shauna tried to ease her stomach’s rollercoaster drop. This Garden of Eden had been tended by Jack the Ripper.
Manacles dangled empty from each of the gazebo’s five arches. A chandelier of chains drooped from the center. Along one wall, a medieval fence of stainless, metal chairs were interspersed among the foliage. The chair backs made of what appeared to be sharpened pikes.
Adrian’s voice rumbled low near her left ear. “Seen enough?”
She shrugged away from him. “Are you kidding? This is incredible.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my fine privilege to welcome you to the garden.”
Shauna turned to the voice behind them just as the gate slammed shut. The foreboding clang of metal-on-metal seemed to stop everyone in their tracks.
The large man chuckled, a soundless laughter that could only be detected in the faint giggle from under his multicolored sweater. “For those of you who do not know me, I am your host. Your Orchestrator. You may call me O.”
He lifted his hand in offering to the new world around them. “I’m sure you’ve noticed this is no ordinary dungeon. We pride ourselves on secrecy, discretion, and trust.” His belly jumped again in a silent snort. “On some level.” He cleared his throat and sped his words as if racing back to the task at hand. “As you can see, our garden has many secret pleasures and toys.
“The tool shed.” O pointed northeast, to where a primitive stone structure had been fitted with what looked like a steel refrigerator door. Inside, shelved racks of surgical trays were draped with blue paper cloths. A large assortment of gleaming knives, scissors, and gloves hung from the structure’s inner walls.
“The koi pond.” To the right, fattened, orange and yellow fish lapped at the water’s surface. Their white, gossamer fins floated eerily through the ten-by-ten-foot blackened pond. Attached, a wrought iron bridge led to a cement island pad. In the middle, a coffin-sized, metal fire pit. The jumping flames, which seemed more blue than yellow, danced in a silent reflection from the mirror-like, metallic pokers, irons, and shovels that lined the wall.
Shauna bounced up and down in her best attempt at schoolgirl excitement. “Oh, oh. Fireplay. I can do that one!” She nudged him with her elbow. “Or the pond. We like ponds, don’t we?”
Adrian rounded on her with a scowl that would send most grown men scurrying.
“What?” she asked, biting back her grin of impending triumph. He’d give in. Any second now she’d cross one line too many and end up over his shoulder and out the door.
Or over his knee.
Maybe his bed?
She closed her eyes. Umm…. Or with a cure?
“Many titillating opportunities for you to try. To enjoy,” O continued. His tone hardened to reclaim the crowd’s wandering attention and titters of delight. “But make no mistake. Just because you’ve gained passage this far, doesn’t mean you’ve earned the privilege to play in my garden.”
He lifted his arms akimbo, pointing in opposite directions, airline attendant style. The dark, rounded alcoves that lined the halls were fitted with black metal bars. “To either side of the garden you will find a chance to earn that privilege.” O’s tone lightened. He closed his eyes and swayed a bit, as though entranced in a song all his own. “So make friends, my little love birds. Play nice. Sing pretty enough to please me, and you shall earn your key.”
Shauna hesitated. “We have to sing?”
“Cry, moan, scream. It varies. But you won’t leave until you give him what he wants. He’ll know if you’re faking.” Adrian tipped his head. “Are we through now?”
Shauna ignored the question. The irritated edge in Adrian’s voice seemed sharper—and more in her favor—by the second. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t leave. She might be on to a golden opportunity. A cure. “How do I know what he wants—”
“You don’t.” An unyielding command flashed in his eyes. “Don’t even try. I’m coming for you, and you’re staying put.”
She snorted. “Like hell.”
O paused. He issued Shauna a warning look. Seemingly satisfied with her apologetic smile, he continued. “Once you earn your key, you will be released into the garden.”
The cogs in Shauna’s brain picked up speed as she scanned her surroundings. If the hard-core stuff stayed in the garden, and Adrian wanted her out, guess who had the upper hand now? To sit in her cage and simply wait for jailbreak, where would that get her at the end of the night?
If she were lucky? A couch.
Not happening.
“But of course, this is a game of chance.” O looked knowingly at Adrian. “We have many ways to make you sing.”
Adrian’s posture stiffened. A tiny muscle near his jaw jumped to attention.
Shauna stared. The look of defiance and mistrust that played on Adrian’s face was like nothing s
he’d ever seen in him. Did he know about this?
Then she heard it. A soldier’s march trailing down the stairs. Four men and four women proceeded down the staircase from where Shauna had come. Their gladiator physiques completely exposed, except for the wingspan of a large bird tattooed across their chests, and a black, mesh bag with a silver drawstring tightly synched around their heads.
A wave of alcohol and menace followed their purposeful stride until they fell into rank behind O. They turned their full attention to the crowd.
One woman made a slight pivot, back and forth, as if consoling the ten-inch, pink dildo that she held in both hands. Another looked transfixed on the crowd with her fists planted on her hips, and a leather riding crop dangling from her wrist. The final man, who seemed somehow paler than the others, stroked the hard length of his greased-up penis in a slow, foreboding rhythm.
“These, my love birds, will be your hawks for the evening.” O ambled down the line of behemoths with his chest puffed in imminent victory. “Before you ask, there is no limit to their mobility and your cage will not save you.”
Great. The cages weren’t safe either? Shauna glanced at the hawks and then at Adrian, but her self-appointed babysitter didn’t move. His eyes were still fixed on O.
She knew that look. Adrian was calculating again. This game of chance must have introduced a new element even Adrian hadn’t anticipated.
“If you catch a hawk, he or she is yours for the evening. But if a hawk catches you, you become their prey. Their hoods remain in place at all times for the ultimate in anonymity. Our predators are the cleanest and safest of specimens, but you are by no means safe from their wrath.”
The courage inside Shauna went from apple to sauce. What the hell had she gotten herself into? They’d be separated. Calling Adrian’s bluff and acting exactly as he said—a spoiled brat—wouldn’t get her anywhere now. They were trapped, both of them, and it was her fault.
O pointed to the ceiling and lifted his sandy brows in innocence. “You have all signed a consent. But if any of you wish to back out, speak.”
Adrian turned to face her.
Swallow your pride. Choke on it if you have to.
Shauna opened her mouth and then closed it again, her tongue caught in a net of uncertainty. After tonight, and the mess she’d made, Adrian would disappear just as he had before. Then she would never find help.
What could she offer him beyond the threat to her safety? How could she become more than the troublesome neighbor kid he’d dolefully watched out for all those years ago.
She shrugged in defeat. “How else can I do to convince you?”
The stoked anger and frustration rushed to Adrian’s surface. His cheeks turned red, and his lips twisted into a sneer. “Not putting yourself here. That’s for damn sure.”
“All right, birds,” O called. “Choose your cages.”
Chapter Ten
One gate slammed shut and then another as the remaining crowd galloped down the hall amid nervous laughter, and cat calls.
The first cell on the block hadn’t been picked yet. With any luck, the others would pass over it in their haste. Shauna rushed ahead, not running away, strategizing. She nodded to herself. After all, who in their right mind would barrel headfirst down a path of certain destruction? She had a plan…somewhere.
Stepping inside, the heels of her boots plunged into the black, gymnasium-style pad that took up most of the floor.
She grasped the cell door to steady herself then jerked it to near-closed behind her. She turned, and with shaking hands, she nudged the door closer and closer to flush. Maybe no one would notice it wasn’t shut completely.
Pushing Adrian out of his comfort level would be a lot easier if she knew where his comfort level was. You’d think Mr. Everything in Moderation Man would look a little out of place in this anything for ejaculation environment.
Nope, he looked right at home.
If he didn’t give in, if he didn’t rescue her, she’d get the hell out on her own.
But how?
Think. She pressed her back to the gritty wall and deep into the shadows. Use your brain. Think.
But her brain seemed too busy flinging insults for getting into this situation. Her heart, hammering for rescue, wasn’t helping much either. Hell, even the demon-brat who got her here wasn’t finding this amusing.
The remaining herd clattered over the cobblestone floor with skips and spins. Amazing how delighted they seemed. Like imprisonment was next best to Disneyland.
That’s where she was. Trapped. In an X-rated version of Pinocchio.
O’s warning echoed through the hall from somewhere ahead of her cell. “Here come your hawks.”
Now would be a great time to disappear.
Shauna shifted from one foot to the other. Hands up, she readied to thrust the door open. When the last person passed her, she’d make a run for it.
The cellblock fell quiet. Only the distant gurgle of the pond fountain met her anxious breaths. She edged forward.
She halted when a shadow eclipsed her cell.
Adrian’s broad shoulders were steady set and unyielding as he passed her door.
The cold press of the metal bars knocked against either side of Shauna’s temples as she reached for him. Her door hinged open a bit with a low groan. She pulled it back just as quick. She tried again. “Psst. Hey.”
Adrian strolled out of reach to a cell several doors down and across the hall, as if he had the world’s best headphones and all the time in the world. As if the stupid cell had his name engraved on it. Nanny-nerd of the month. All violators will be towed.
Adrian pivoted to face her as he reached for his door. The look of resentment never broke as he pulled the gate shut with an ominous click.
Stubborn. Shauna stepped back, and her arms fell to her sides. What did he have to go and do that for? With his cell locked, he couldn’t reach her even if he wanted to.
Her heart tensed. Maybe he didn’t want to reach her. From the scowl that pulled at the corners of his mouth and the shadow that darkened his eyes, he’d rather leave her for dead.
She scanned the dingy corners of her cell, fighting the hurt that threatened to consume her. So this was it. He’d never give in.
There had to be a way out, a loophole, something. She couldn’t trust any of these people to form an alliance against Adrian. The ploy ended here. These people played for flesh.
She eyed the strange, dangling pendulum of Velcro and chains poised in the center of the room. Its metal links clinked together when the adjoining cell slammed shut. She wanted a chance to appeal to Adrian. He still didn’t understand her dire need for his help. But she didn’t want to show him this way. Not like this.
She expected to see a flock of plundering hawks swoop past her cage. It wasn’t the case. They wandered by with measured steps. But they didn’t choose anyone. They paced back and forth behind the portly ringmaster. They wandered a bit but they always returned to him, waiting for a final nod for deployment.
“Swing, baby bird,” called the female hawk to the cell nearest Shauna’s. Soft, yet somewhat orchestrated moans filtered into the hall. The hawk sneered. “Spread your legs and fly.”
Shauna turned to the apparatus in the center of her cage. Some sort of sex swing?
She tucked back her chin. This wasn’t Cirque Du Soleil. That key better be worth more than freedom and frolicking in a garden if they wanted Shauna anywhere near that thing. No telling where it’s been.
The Orchestrator paused. Shook his head as if not convinced, and motioned the female hawk towards the moaning cell.
“Aww, but I wanted that one,” cried a man from across the hall.
The female hawk turned from adjusting the strap-on dildo on her hips, giving the complainer her full, ten-inch profile.
The man put both hands up in an I-surrender pose. “Never mind.”
The ringmaster—or whatever he called himself—ignored the hawk’s delicate snort and th
e muffled snicker from the adjoining cells. Instead, he bubbled with animation as he neared Adrian’s cell. The Oracle paused from his hippity-hop routine just a few feet from Adrian’s cell. Was there anything more repulsive than a leprechaun jig of that size?
“So do you like the new curtains?” O’s words ran together with pent-up excitement. He ignored Adrian’s look of irritation, as usual, and his eyes widened with feigned surprise. “No? Didn’t notice? Well, I guess that wouldn’t be the first thing on your mind. We have made a few bigger changes,” he allowed.
Adrian’s teeth scraped against each other and sent shockwaves of pain up his jaw.
O offered a hand gesture to the row of hawks prowling the hall behind him. “Not quite the same potency as the legend of Adrian Sands, but we do our best to maintain a similar flavor.”
Adrian’s upper lip twitched on the verge of disgust before he clenched his mouth shut. Flavor? Hard to mask the rancid stench of blood and sewage that had seeped into the concrete floor over the years. To make it extra cozy, add the overproduction of vanilla bean incense and the cheap perfume and body odor that tainted every reachable surface.
Adrian’s gag reflux twitched.
O’s thick, sandy brows drew together in sympathy. He ticked along the row of bars with his index finger as he paced Adrian’s cell. “Of course, not even my strongest hawk holds a candle to you.”
Adrian’s fist clenched at the chance to latch onto O’s neck and slam him back and forth against the bars like a paddleball. He may have spent his youth poaching pretties here, but he never hurt people. Domination, pain, rape, the very thought dropped a cold stone in his gut.
His peripheral vision anchored to the cell Shauna had stepped into. His mind geared-up for the slightest of movement from her cowering silhouette. Too dark in there to see much. Wise choice.
The Oracle angled his body to the cell adjacent to Adrian. “Just look at them.”
At the first hint of attention, the willowy man in the cell tossed back his mop of candy-cane highlights and flattened his chest against the cage. His voice strained with desperation. “Please. Let me out?” He snaked up and down the metal, blanching his colorless skin.
