Corrupting Alicia

by Tsoukalas, Evan

  DeShawn shrugged. “Miguel won’t care, and Nick won’t even notice as long as he’s got his pills.” He fixed Alicia with a direct look. “They’ll do what I tell them.”

  “I’m counting on that,” Alicia answered, returning his very direct gaze. “The real question is, will you do what I tell you?”

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation, but none of us believed him. I sent a knowing glance Alicia’s way, and she nodded subtly.

  “DeShawn,” she began, fixing him with a pointed look. Controlled anger flared in her eyes, communicating effectively that her patience was short. “Punishments in my organization are swift and merciless. Disobedience means death, not just for you, but for everyone you care about as well. Test me, and Mr. Jones here will pay you, and them, a visit,” Alicia continued, gesturing at Martin with an open hand, palm up. “Believe me when I say that you do not want to see Mr. Jones ever again. He enjoys killing people, and he’s had a great deal of practice,” she finished. Martin hid his shock at her insinuation, and the knowledge it implied, very well. He smiled at DeShawn and gave a careless shrug.

  “I get it,” DeShawn offered smoothly, but his ego kept him from truly understanding. He thought he was indispensable, which he nearly was, but he couldn’t be allowed to think that; my thoughts on that matter filtered across the link between us only to discover that we were already of like mind.

  “I don’t think you do, DeShawn,” she sighed wearily. She turned to Martin. “Mr. Jones, please go get DeShawn’s daughter Keesha and bring her here.” I could feel Martin bristle at the order, struggling against his nature to rebel; thankfully, his battle was entirely internal. I turned nonchalantly to look at him, the look I leveled on him anything but. Martin quickly nodded his head and went to leave. He made it to the hallway before DeShawn spoke up.

  “Wait!” he half-shouted, his voice ten decibels louder than necessary, powered by nerves and fear. She had him. “I don’t need a demonstration. I get you. Seriously,” he offered quickly, and now he did. Alicia held her hand up and beckoned to Martin, who moved back to the couch.

  When Alicia spoke again, her voice was low and icy but still tightly controlled. “Don’t let the fact that Chris beat me fool you into thinking I’m weak. The person you knew is gone, and everything before this moment means nothing. You’re the only person in this room who cares if you leave it alive. Are we clear?”

  DeShawn mulled over her words, searching for and finding the sincerity in them, and then he nodded, casting a sideways glance at me and then Martin, who looked a little disappointed. He wasn’t acting; nothing would have pleased him more than to kill DeShawn’s child right in front of him. As you might have guessed, Martin has a mile-wide cruel streak.

  By now, it should be obvious that most of us do.

  “Good. I’m glad we understand each other. As for the operation, it’s business as usual for now. All instructions will be relayed through the gentleman to my left. We are one voice; if it comes from him, it comes from me. You’ll be given a contact number in a few hours; it will change weekly. Memorize it and don’t give it to anyone. All communication from the warehouse and the street now goes through you. If you’re asked about anything relating to Chris’ death, say nothing except that the organization is intact and nothing has changed, and then inform us immediately. We’ll inform everyone who counts once Barrera is on board. When things have settled, we can discuss your ideas for expanding and streamlining the operation. Any questions?”

  “Yeah. What do I call him?” he asked, pointing at me almost reverently.

  “Whatever you like. Make up a name; he’s not particular.”

  “Okay,” DeShawn answered slowly, evaluating what exactly that meant. Being big on respect, DeShawn could not quite understand willing anonymity. How can you be respected if people don’t even know your real name? He failed to understand that fear was more important than respect for someone in my position, and mortals always have more fear for the things they cannot name.

  He would learn.

  “What if Barrera don’t come on board? We only got about ten weeks of supply on hand.”

  That bit of information took Alicia aback, but she handled damage control well. “That’s it? Why so little?”

  DeShawn shrugged. “Times are tough, and Chris was throwing a lot of cash at a new market.”

  “Which one?” Alicia asked, concern darkening her voice.

  “E.”

  “He was moving in on the Brothers?” she replied, a grudging respect for Christian’s fortitude forming. She did not think he had the balls. Counting DeShawn, that made two of them.

  DeShawn nodded. “Yeah, and they ain’t too happy ‘bout it, neither. Been some action on both sides the past coupla weeks.”

  “Anything serious?”

  “Nah. Drive-by’s, beatdowns, that sorta thing. Minor losses.”

  Alicia turned her head toward me. “That will have to be taken care of,” she stated as if it were just another item on a grocery list, which it was. I nodded, and she turned back to DeShawn. “As far as Barrera goes, I’m pretty sure he’ll stay in, but we’ll know by the end of the week. If he decides to back out, the Brazilians have expressed a willingness to pick up the slack.”

  DeShawn’s eyes went wide, and he whistled lowly. The Brazilian pipeline was far greater than Barrera's, and their product was top notch, but Christian had been reluctant to get into bed with them because he was always worried that they might try to cut out the middle man once the relationship was established and stable. They were savagely brutal, monstrously powerful and completely devoid of conscience. The fact that Alicia did not share Christian’s concerns impressed DeShawn mightily and told him something about her associates.

  “Fair ‘nough. Operational expenses?”

  “What do you have on hand? Eighty, ninety k?” Alicia asked.

  “Thirty-four and change,” DeShawn answered after a brief hesitation, looking away. Alicia glanced at me, and I nodded to indicate that he was telling the truth.

  “Not even enough to make warehouse payroll. Street income?”

  “Maybe ten by the end of the week. Don’t do as much street work anymore. Most of our bidness is medium weight distribution now.”

  Alicia nodded. “Anything of note?”

  “Not for a couple weeks. Twenty keys to Jamal, fourteen to Roper, and 12,000 pills to Mike and Eddie. S‘pose to get a large order from Tito in NoCal, but he’s been quiet lately.”

  “You’ll get one fifty by Thursday,” Alicia promised, “and your accounting from this day forward better be immaculate. Understand?” DeShawn nodded, wondering where Alicia was getting her money. I wondered that, too, but I had the strange suspicion that I already knew.

  Is there a course women take to teach them how to spend enormous amounts of their man’s money without batting an eyelash, or does it just come naturally?

  To be fair, a hundred and fifty thousand dollars was nothing but a tiny drop in a very large bucket to me, but she could have at least mentioned the possibility while we were planning this out. Come to think of it, it probably should have occurred to me, but I’m so fucking rich that I never think about money.

  “Also, we’ll need to move the warehouse operation quickly. You’ll be notified when a suitable location has been found. Prepare everyone.” DeShawn nodded again, having already prepared himself for that possibility. I actually had to work to stifle an incredulous smile and a sigh as more of my money just got earmarked.

  Alicia turned her head toward me again. “We’re finished here. See to it that DeShawn gets home safely.” She emphasized the word “safely,” and she was referring as much to Martin as to anyone else. I nodded, looking to DeShawn, who just about leapt out of his chair.

  “It’s cool. It’s cool,” he said, waving me off. “I can find my own way home,” he said, all but running to the door before anyone could object. He was not quite sure that any of us actually knew where he lived, and he would rather not be
the one to lead us there if that turned out to be the case.

  “DeShawn,” Alicia snapped, stopping DeShawn dead in his tracks. He stiffened, steeling himself, and then turned slowly. Alicia fixed him with a hard gaze. “Have a good night.”

  DeShawn swallowed tightly and then did a comic double-take, definitely expecting something worse to come out of her mouth. “Right,” he offered and then he was gone. Alicia let out a long breath and then plopped down onto the couch. She looked at me, her eyes and mind telling me to get rid of Martin. Martin took the hint, because before I could say anything, he was already speaking.

  “Well, that was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.” His tone clearly indicated just the opposite. He began moving toward the door before he even finished speaking.

  “Not so fast, Martin,” I piped in, and Martin did a fair impression of DeShawn, stopping dead, stiffening, and then slowly turning to face me. “Provided that you pretend to forget everything you’ve seen and heard, and everyone you’ve met, we’re even,” I added.

  Martin pretended to mull this over for a few seconds, but it was simply posturing in front of the mortal. He had no idea how much Alicia knew about me, but regardless, he would never let his fear show in front of a mortal. He paused long enough to show her that he was choosing to agree with me rather than having no choice whatsoever, and then he responded, “I can live with that.”

  I nodded, letting him know that he was free to go, and moments later, Alicia and I were alone in the room. I dropped my shield and closed the link between our minds.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Alicia said, stretching. I looked at her but did not answer. When she finished stretching, she looked up at me, my lack of response making an immediate impression. Our gazes locked, and neither of us looked away for several minutes. Her poise crumbled with each passing minute until she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Is something wrong?” If the role she played during the meeting had not taken most of her focus, she might have picked up enough of my thoughts to answer the question, and now it was too late.

  “I’m just wondering where you plan to get the money you mentioned earlier,” I replied, trying to keep the irritation out of my tone and only partially succeeding.

  “I-I-” Alicia managed to stutter before faltering, her eyes the size of baseballs. Her mouth opened and closed several times, and then she looked sheepish. “Did I overstep myself?”

  “You did,” I answered curtly, and my tone brought her off the couch. She approached, her expression meek and submissive, and she came to a stop a few feet from me, looking at me with an expression so vulnerable that I almost caved. She wanted to touch me, but she thought it wise to get a better handle on my mood first. Smart people do not touch an irritated dog unless its tail starts wagging.

  “I’m sorry, Jason. I guess I got too caught up in the role, and the authority in it. I’m not used to having power, and it’s intoxicating. I’m really sorry.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and I realized that my disapproval had quietly stolen much of the joy and satisfaction from her night. I was sorry for that, but she needed to know that there were limits to this charade, that the power and authority I helped her portray were not real. They were, and always would be, mine alone.

  “It’s okay, babe,” I said, ready to forgive now that I had gotten my point across. “It’s important for you to remember that we’re acting here. You need to demonstrate power and control if you have any hope of avoiding a power struggle, both internal and external, and while I’m all for helping you do that, I’m not here to obey your every command. This is a partnership; if you forget that, it’s not going to work.”

  Alicia bit her lip, nodding slowly, so much like a little girl at that moment that I felt about two inches tall, but I knew it was important to stand my ground on this. This entire night had been a clinic for me on the mania that was growing inside her, and I had to keep it under tight control, or it was likely to consume her. I did realize that it was likely to consume her anyway, but like the arrogant prick that I am, I thought I could stop it.

  Ahh well. You live and you learn.

  I gathered her in my arms, and she put her head on my shoulder, whispering apologies with her mind. I said nothing in return, choosing instead to simply rock her back and forth until it ran its course, staying out of her mind to let her deal with her thoughts privately. In the end, it didn’t so much run its course as get supplanted by something else when passion reared its head, and we silently agreed that it was time to leave.

  Outside the hotel, I pulled Alicia closer, preparing to hit the air, and she stopped me. I looked up at her; she was biting her lip.

  “What is it?” I probed gently, resisting the urge to sweep her mind.

  “I-I,” she began haltingly, falling silent. I was about to enter her mind when she continued, the conviction in her voice firm. “You need to be warm.”

  My mouth fell open, and my head went back on my neck as if she had landed a left hook. Coming on the heels of an argument, the request had more impact than the first time she made it, wrapped up in a haze of lovemaking and tenderness that certainly obscured my true nature from view. “Are you sure?” I asked, brows knitting together as I slipped into her mind. She nodded at the same time that I confirmed the answer for myself. “Do you want to wait here?”

  She tightened her hold, drawing strength from me as she shook her head. It took a lot of effort not to show how stunned I was by this, but I nodded numbly and then took to the air, scanning for nearby victims.

  I took three mortals on the way home, watching Alicia carefully as I quickly tended to business. Clearly, this was not her favorite activity to share with me, but our relationship had progressed beyond the point where it had the ability to horrify her. Alicia had discarded every last shred of humanity left within her; there was no turning back now even if she wanted to, and she clearly had no intention of doing so. She was in this until the very end, and I found myself equal parts excited and sad, with sad making a good effort to tip the scales.

  ◆◆◆

  Finding Gonzalo Barrera would have been difficult even for Jeffrey, who has cultivated a staggering number of contacts on both sides of the law over the years, but I was reluctant to get him any more involved than I already had. It is Jeffrey’s job (one he chose, I might add) to bridge the gap between revenant and mortal worlds, but even still, I believe that discretion on our part is an obvious necessity. There was no real upside to involving him in drug trafficking, even indirectly. As it was, just having him get someone to deliver half a million dollars in cash to my Port Townsend home and look for potential sites for moving the warehouse operation, I was already past my comfort zone. If he had any idea what I was up to, he’d probably shit Tiffany kittens.

  Unfortunately, up against a rather tight deadline, I was running out of options. Powerful I may be, but finding mortals who make it their life’s work to stay unfindable and untouchable was taxing even my considerable reach. I was completely out of my league, and though my revenant gifts had carried us this far, I knew they wouldn’t be enough for much longer.

  Throughout the following days, the task of finding an inroad to Christian’s Bolivian connection was further hampered by the never-ending list of new tasks that met me each evening when I awoke from Slumber. Working through the tasks sometimes occupied my time until dawn; not the least of these was preparation for the meeting with Richter’s people, which would be any night now. It felt more like a real job than I have known in quite some time, and I was rapidly learning that this business I was mixed up in was much the same as any other. I was a little disappointed that I’d let the nature of it blind me to the reality of it.

  Thankfully, DeShawn was flourishing now that he was out from under Christian’s thumb. Christian had made it a point not to let any one person gain too much power in his organization, and while that was a wise decision for retaining power despite what your employees may think of you, it is also a severe handicap if you d
on’t know exactly what you are doing.

  Alicia and I spent pretty much every moment together, and until I met with Darius Richter’s people, it would remain that way. Each night, I was impressed by the synergy we shared, often having the same thoughts at just about the same time. I could also tell that she was as impressed with me as I was with her, and considering that she already expected the moon from me, that was saying something. It was apparent to me that the specter of failing to establish communication with Barrera was weighing heavily on her mind, as was her bluff about the Brazilians. We had even less of a chance of contacting them in any meaningful manner, and if they even caught a hint of desperation, there would be a free for all. As it was, there were already far too many murmurings from the street for comfort.

  Partially as a distraction, and partially for venting purposes, I cleaned up some of the anarchy coming from the street over Christian’s power move into the Ecstasy market. Martin was all too happy to lend a hand, and his tactics only cemented the rumors flying on the street: two exceedingly brutal men laying down the law with a vengeance. There was a new sheriff in town, and people were paying attention. I’m no stranger to the power of fear, but even I was a little impressed watching it in action. In most cases, one swift and brutal action staved off five others.

  The publicity helped on one front, but it caused quite a ruckus on another, forcing the authorities to take notice. Fees went up, and I would have been shocked at the number of law enforcement officials and politicians on Christian’s payroll if I hadn’t had intimate knowledge of corruption.

  All totaled, I’d spent almost a million dollars in five days, but true to her word, Alicia came to me with requests rather than orders. Honestly, I’d have easily spent a hundred times that for the underlying feeling of contentment that came from helping her heal some old and deep wounds.

  Just when it seemed like time was going to run out, several things broke in rapid sequence. First, the elusive Bolivian regime found us, or rather, found me. I wasn’t so much stunned that they found me, but rather that they were so inclined. I hadn’t exactly been keeping a low profile; on the contrary, I’d been trying to make myself the largest target in the organization.