by Zeecé Lugo
He bent his knees, bringing them deep under her bottom, causing her own body to tilt slightly up. His eyes never left hers as he slowly, inexorable, pushed his stone-hard, beautifully large cock deep into her. The instant he filled her, the maelstrom engulfed her.
It was a feeling like no other she'd ever experienced, nothing like human sex. She felt herself floating in a sea of intense pleasure that did not pulse or come in waves, but was seamless and constant. Her body felt lighter than air, and it did not respond to her mind's commands. She was unable to move, not wanting to move, blissfully enslaved to the sweet, unending waves of pleasure that her lover played on her.
Max took her mouth with his lips, his tongue slid around hers, his arms held her prisoner while his body moved languidly, in a lazy rhythm over hers. There was no hurry, no frenzied thrusting, no pounding, no eager race to the finish. Each second, each moment was infinite in its pleasure, the sensation intense, paralyzing, lasting for ever.
Angel knew she had arrived at that place in time where she was meant to be forever. This was not sex. She knew sex in all its faces and flavors. This was something humans did not know, could not understand without its experience. This was something only Max could give her.
CHAPTER 23
Max stood high above the city lights, the cold wind buffeting his coat about him, the light of the full moon showing him in stark relief. The pain in his heart threatened to rip his chest open, and he wanted to howl his misery at the moon, like wolves often did.
Tonight he'd sent them away. Jonathan and his people had procured the forged identification papers, passports, and birth certificates for the children. Max deposited a hefty sum of money into an account he opened for Angel under her new identity, and tonight he put her and the children on a plane bound for a new city and a new life. Jonathan had arranged everything under the strictest secrecy and confidence.
Little Nina had cried and clung to him, refusing to let go until her mother literally peeled her away from him. Angel, her arms full with a sleeping baby and a desolate Nina, had kept her eyes averted and bit down on her lips to hide their trembling.
At the gate, she stood holding the children and looking forlorn and miserable. He gave her one last, longing kiss and pushed her gently on her way. She walked without looking back, but by the slight shaking of her shoulders, he knew she was crying. Nina kept looking back at Max, her tearful little face begging him to go with them.
Max did not bother taking a cab back. He chose instead to run, climb, and bolt from roof to roof, the bitter bite of the cold wind on his face, the workout driving his body to exhaustion. For the first time in years, he doubted himself, but he knew it was his emotions causing the doubt.
Thinking logically, using common sense to make the decision, he knew he had done the right thing. Still, his heart told him differently, made him doubt the decision to put the family away from him.
He finally found something he wanted, something that made him happy, something he deserved, and he’d given it up. What was the good in loving a woman if it placed her in danger? How much more pain would he suffer if death were to come to her or the children because of him?
He must hunt down her enemies and destroy them, or she would never be safe. That he would do, and that would give him pleasure. After, he must deal with his own enemies, and that meant returning to his people.
******
“Jonathan, you have news for me?” They were back in Jonathan’s penthouse, the lights of the city spreading like a blanket of gems across a bedspread of black velvet.
“This,” said the human as he handed a thick folder to the vampire, “is the dossier on the person of interest. The information has been compiled from various reports from several international and domestic law enforcement agencies. Carlos Eduardo Van Daal Pretto is a powerful and dangerous man, my friend.”
Jonathan was a man that few women would pass by without doing a double-take. His clean-cut Armani suit, his sexy, dark-eyed gaze, his youth and casual demeanor, all belied his keen intellect and shrewd character.
“I already know that he’s a powerful criminal.”
“No, he’s a powerful man outside of his criminal circles. He’s very rich, owning interests in many legal and profitable endeavors. He has been very successful at funneling his lucrative illegal earnings into legal holdings. He keeps homes in Madrid, Rio, and Tokyo, owns a huge luxury yacht and his own private plane. Travels on a Brazilian passport. Getting to him will not be easy.”
“Time and planning. That’s all it will take.”
“Maybe you should consider a professional hit. His associates will assume it was the competition.”
“I want more than just him. I want his closest associates. I want Angel totally safe.”
“You can contract an explosion at his yacht to happen during a meeting or a party.”
“That will mean collateral damage and other innocents being killed. Besides, I want him to know the why of it, and the other parties involved to understand that if they pick up the gauntlet where Angel is concerned, the same will happen to them.”
“You’re asking for something difficult, my friend. All I can do is advise you and help in any way I can. Be cautious. Study the dossier and plan carefully.”
“Yes, of course. If I do it myself, as I’d like to do, then I must bring him to me.”
“Such a man is used to other people running his errands. It may not be easy to get him to come to you.”
“Perhaps with the right bait?” Max leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him.
“The only bait I can see is Angel. Would you be willing to do that?”
“I would never place her within five hundred miles of him, but he need not know that.”
Jonathan sipped his scotch and tapped his fingers on the glass as he gazed thoughtfully at the skyline through the glass wall. “There are possibilities. Yes, there are.”
CHAPTER 24
Carlos Pretto, son of a long-dead Dutch sailor and a Brazilian house maid, rose from the bed and slipped on the robe that his manservant held out for him. On the bed, a young girl lay on her stomach fast asleep, her generous, firm buttocks the color of golden honey glowing in the light of the morning sun streaming through the open porthole.
“Coffee,” he said to his man.
“Yes, Sir. That envelope came for you this morning.” The servant tilted his head towards the large manila envelope on the nightstand and left.
Half an hour later, Pretto sat savoring his second tiny cup of thick espresso, deep in thought. He’d read the contents of the envelope, and was now mulling over the unexpected information it contained.
“Joseph,” he addressed his servant. “Call Felix and Claus. Tell them to drop whatever they’re doing and report to me at once.”
“Yes, Sir.” The old man hurried out to do his master’s bidding.
******
“It seems that deep inquiries have been made into your background recently. This isn’t unusual. You have always been the subject of investigations, from the American law enforcement agencies to the European Interpol, Europol, etc. What is different is that it seems to be a private endeavor. According to our well-placed sources, a low-profile New York City law firm has been discreetly investigating you.”
“New York City,” repeated Carlos Pretto. “I have seldom set foot in it, yet in the last few weeks, it has figured prominently in my affairs. First, we track Angelica Ferrars to it. Then, the team sent to deal with my missing asset disappears from what should have been a simple job. The professional I sent after to deal with the problematic bitch, takes a dive from the twelve-storey Howard Johnson where he was staying, after having his throat cut. Now, a strange law firm is making inquiries into my affairs. You know what I think?” Pretto looked around at his gathered associates.
“I think that my asset found herself a protector. Someone is helping her, someone powerful and ruthless. Someone who isn’t afraid to get his hands dir
ty. Now, this is a challenge I welcome.” Pretto sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs.
“How do you want to handle this?” His second in command, Felix Gunther, stood to serve himself a scotch at the side table. He was tall and fair, his blond hair and light-blue eyes a striking contrast to Pretto’s dark looks.
“Trace the investigation back to its source. I want to know who ordered the inquiry. Find the man, and we’ll find my asset. Can it be done?”
Felix’s younger brother Claus, nodded his head. “With today’s technology, everything can be found. We know the law firm involved. A few payoffs in their IT department, a little hacking. Should be a matter of days if not hours.”
“Good. I expect results within a few days. Once I have a name, then it will just be a matter of “hosting” our connection and encouraging him or her to tell us what we need to know.” Pretto looked about him and smiled.
“We’ll need to be close to the target. It will be inconvenient to have to move an unwilling package across several borders.” Felix was always one to look ahead to the little details of a plan. “Luckily, New York City is surrounded by water. We can get as close as we want.”
“Yes, give the order. We have a new destination.”
******
Jonathan pulled the coat collar up around his neck, hunched into the wind, and quickened his pace. He had joined a couple of friends at the upscale pub down the block for a couple of drinks after a late day at the office and was now regretting it. He should have left earlier, he thought, as he crossed the street and hurried to enter the underground parking garage, desolate and dim. He made his way quickly to his own private spot, wondering at the lack of lighting.
Normally, the garage was well lighted, but tonight it seemed that it was darker than usual. He looked around nervously, the hair on the back of his neck standing. He’d been nervous for a couple of days now, some vague alarm system kicking in, the sense that he was being followed nagging at him. He slid his hand inside his coat pocket, the feel of the small Glock giving him a sense of security.
Twenty paces from his classy, understated, cream-colored Mercedes, he clicked the electronic key to unlock and start the car. He slid into the driver’s seat feeling a sense of relief. When he felt the sudden sting of the needle as it pricked his neck, he tried to reach for the gun, but it was already too late. Five minutes later his car left the garage at a sedate, cautious speed. The attendant that was normally at the booth was nowhere to be seen.
******
Max paced back and forth in his kitchen, sipping his whiskey and growing ever more restless. The house was silent and cold without the little family. Gone was the comforting sound of Nina playing with her dolls and the background noise of her movies. He missed the gurgling mewlings of her baby brother, the sight of the little legs kicking.
More than anything, he ached for the comfort of Angel’s smile and the welcoming warmth of her eyes. He ached to run as fast as he could and go find her, to lie again in that warm embrace, to taste her heated, sweet passion. The ringing of his cell phone momentarily pulled him out of his misery.
“Yes?” he answered brusquely, his unhappiness reflected in his voice.
“Sir, this is Armand. We have a problem. Mr. Travers never came home last night. He does not answer his cell phone.”
“He could be with a woman, some private tryst. Surely, that’s not uncommon.”
“Sir, Mr. Travers is very particular about his private affairs. He always brings his dates to the penthouse, where he’s in an environment he can control. No, I’m afraid that something has happened to him. He would never turn off his cell or not answer it.”
“Have you contacted anyone else?”
“Yes, Sir. I contacted two of his colleagues who told me that he left them about a quarter after eleven last night after a few drinks at the pub across the street from his office building. He was tired and looking forward to his bed. They watched him cross the street and disappear into the parking garage. I’ve also had inquiries made at local hospitals and the police department for accident reports. Nothing shows up.”
Max felt a stab of concern. Jonathan was not the type to ignore a phone call, especially since his man would not bother him for trivia. He would never just take off without letting Armand know. Alarms went off in Max’s mind.
“You were correct to call me. I agree something isn’t right. Now, you can’t report him missing for at least forty-eight hours, but there is something you can do. Report the car as stolen. Call the police and tell them where the car was parked, and that now, it is gone. Tell them that although it is in Jonathan’s name, it is assigned to you for your personal use. You parked it at the garage, but you had a few drinks, and you had a friend drive you home. Now the car is gone.”
“Yes, they will not look for him, but they’ll be on the lookout for the stolen car. I will do that, Sir. Meanwhile, what else can we do?”
“Send one of your guys to the pub and the garage, find out if anyone saw him meet or pick up anyone. As soon as the sun goes down, I will try to pick up his trail.”
“Sir, I’m afraid something bad has happened to him. For the first time in years, I’m worried.”
“Yes, so am I.”
It was near noon, and Max was trapped indoors and feeling helpless. Still, he was convinced of one thing: Jonathan was alive and unhurt. He could feel him, vaguely, as if he was far away or deeply asleep. As soon as the sun went down, Max would follow his trail, the blood-bond guiding him like a beacon in the night.
CHAPTER 25
Angel looked around at her home. It was a beautiful house, just perfect for her small family. It was a house where children would be happy. The rooms were spacious and daylight streamed in through the many windows.
The fenced-in yard was perfect. There was a large tree with a swing hanging from it which Nina loved. There was even a lovely dog house in the far corner, ready for the dog that the little girl would eventually get.
Tears came to Angel’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. He had thought of everything, her guardian angel, her vampire lover. The ache in her chest grew into a sharp physical pain that threatened to choke the breath from her.
It had been a week now that they’d picked up their new lives. She was now Lina Pavel Denisov. She felt warmth at the thought that she carried his name. But she had lost him, and now she felt more lost than ever. She sat on the stairs and sobbed inconsolably, her face in her hands. Alarmed, Nina ran to her.
“Mommie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The little girl’s face tightened with worry. “Are the bad men coming?”
Angel felt the guilt that a good mother feels when she knows she’s causing distress to her child. “No, baby. No bad men. We are safe. I just wish that Max was here.” She wiped her tears with her hand and tried to smile for her baby.
Nina’s face took on her mother’s sadness. “I wish he was here too. I miss him. I want to go home with Max. Why can’t we go home?”
“Baby, this is home now. It’s a very nice house in a very nice town. Max bought it for us. You’ll begin school soon. You’ll make lots of friends. Aren’t you excited about that?”
Nina thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, but I want Max with us. I’d rather have him than any other friends. Even if he doesn’t grow his hair back, I still want him.”
Angel chuckled at her daughter’s words. “Come, baby. Let’s start putting your things away in your room. The box we shipped from New York arrived today. We’ll need to open it and put your toys and movies away. Later, we’ll go for a walk. Maybe the neighbor’s dog Charlie will be out and you can play with him.”
It was a new life, and one she never thought she could have. She owed it to her guardian angel, and she owed it to him to make the best of it. She would not let him down.
******
Jonathan awakened to hurt and then terror. The first sensation that assailed him was extreme pain in his arms as they stretched above him threateni
ng to come out of their sockets. He forced his head up, blinking furiously to clear his vision, to see his hands swollen and purple, bound together with thin nylon rope. The rope was tied to a thick, metal hook in the ceiling.
His body was cold, and yet, there was sweat dripping into his eyes. He tried wiping his eyes on his tortured bare arms, and then looked down to see that he was naked and suspended maybe three feet above the glossed, wood plank floor. There were no windows, only a nightlight providing a small amount of light to the bare, tiny room. The slow, constant swaying sent him on a wave of vertigo and nausea.
A ship, I’m on a ship, he thought just before losing consciousness once more.
When he surfaced again, a parching thirst assailed him. Strong hands grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head up. At the feel of a water bottle being put to his dry lips, he gulped hungrily, choking and spluttering.
He was no longer suspended. He was still tied, this time with his hands behind him, and he had been laid on a plastic tarp on the bare floor on his side.
Rough hands pulled him up and pushed him into a wooden chair. The texture of the wood against his naked bottom and thighs was grating and alien. Another bottle of water was poured over his head. The light of a bright, incandescent bulb came on, and a man came to stand in front of him. Beside the man and slightly behind, two other men stood.
“Welcome, Mr. Travers. I’m Carlos Eduardo Van Daal Pretto, but I think you already know that.”
Jonathan felt true terror for the first time in his life.
******
Max impatiently peeked over the edge of the drape, willing the sun to drop faster over the horizon. He turned, intending to grab his coat where it lay over the back of the couch, when the intense wave of pain came and crashed over him like an ocean wave over an unsuspecting child playing on the shore. Max went to his knees and experienced the trailing wave of nausea followed by an uncontrollable trembling. He knew at once: Jonathan was alive and being tortured.
