by Linda Wright
But not before she’d had some more fun with him.
Briefly exhausted, Paul slowed to a stop and lay sweating and panting along her back.
She patted his arm with her trembling hand. “Good effort, lover boy.”
“Thank you… darling… Estelle…” he wheezed. Bless him, she thought. She must have burned him out, along with the neurotoxins.
“Paul, I need you to get off me.” She’d been enjoying his weight, but panic clutched her heart. If he burned off the toxins, he might regain his senses before she was done with him. And she wasn’t simply thinking about the sex. Vane had entrusted her with the task of erasing all knowledge of his trail to Demeter. She couldn’t do that if she had to fight him as well.
“Hmm?” he murmured. He was clearly exhausted. She’d overdone it with her demands.
“Okay, big guy. I’m going to roll you over onto the mattress.” Estelle pushed down, calling on her supernatural strength. The mattress collapsed. The bed creaked and threatened to break. “Dammit…” She rocked herself to one side, then the other, swinging Paul minutely as she moved. She added more effort. The bed frame protested. Ignoring it, she rocked harder and harder, until finally, Paul rolled off her and onto his back. She smiled at his semi-erect cock.
“Okay, lover boy. Time for round two.” She seized his left wrist and puckered her lips, sucking hard. Paul’s skin erupted and his sweet, mortal blood flowed into her mouth. At the same time, traces of Estelle’s saliva raced into his vein, streaking through his bloodstream like lightning. His eyes snapped open his heart rate doubled and a crimson flush colored his skin.
“Wow…” he groaned. Estelle smiled at his bulging erection.
“Ready for some more fun?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Lie back, and let me ride you.”
“Lie back? I want to climb on top and screw you into the mattress, lady.” His blink rate was frantic. His chest heaved as his muscles burned oxygen. Estelle made an approving face. Why go cowgirl when a guy had this much energy to burn?
“Knock yourself out.” She lay back and Paul climbed between her legs. The sex was hard, furious and loud. Estelle came close to passing out as Paul plunged deep into her, gifting her orgasm after orgasm. She clung to him with arms and legs, and wept as his hard, heavy body and long, stiff cock pushed her deep into the collapsing mattress. And when he was finally spent, and lay along her body, gasping for breath, she stroked his sweating scalp fondly.
“Are you sure you’re completely human?”
“Mm-hmm…” he muttered into her neck. Although they’d been making love for over an hour, he hadn’t come, which was perfect. She wanted to milk him in her own time. She rolled the exhausted man onto his back, then straddled his erection. Barely able to open his eyes, he groaned as she slid down onto him.
“You’re insatiable, lady.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Nope. This is the best day ever.”
“And it hasn’t finished yet.” She rocked her hips and he sighed happily. His hands slid onto her thighs and squeezed. She lifted his left hand up to her mouth and pressed her lips to his wrist. He groaned as his blood trickled into her mouth. Again, she gifted him a trace of saliva, but not as much as before. She needed him relaxed, and obedient, not hammering and crazy.
“How is it you found us at the marina, Paul?” she asked softly.
“Hypnosis…”
“You were hypnotized?”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Amari.”
“What did she remember?”
“Minivan. From La Casa del Diablo… to the marina.”
“And you saw our ship?”
“She remembered Dem.”
“Only part of the name?”
He nodded. “We had to figure out the rest.”
“Paul, listen to me very carefully. The marina is gone from your mind. The name Dem is lost, like morning mist.”
“Lost…”
“You will never speak of La Casa del Diablo again.”
“Never…”
“And after tonight, you’ll forget all about me.” She found the order difficult. She didn’t want to forget Paul. She probably never would. Maybe there would be a way. If Vane could keep Amari, then perhaps…
No, she decided. Amari had returned of her own accord, just as Estelle had a century ago. Could she compel Paul to return? If he turned up at the Marina, perhaps Vane would let her keep him. She sucked on his wrist again. His blood was so delicious.
“Can I keep the Jaguar?” he murmured.
“Is it yours?”
“Rental.”
“Why did you rent it, Paul?”
“To impress the people at La… something or other.” His brow wrinkled as the now-elusive name evaded him.
“No, Paul. The Jaguar will have to be returned. I can help with that.”
“I like the Jag.”
“So do I.” She smiled. “But it has to go back.”
“Pity.”
She continued to ride him as she probed his memories, both verbally and mentally. Everything he remembered of the week, from the peculiar scars, to Amari’s amnesia, it all had to go. When she finished with his mind, she’d modified over a week of Paul’s life. The Wildfire Club was no more. He had no recollection of Detendez-vous, and the phrase ‘Patient Four’ no longer held any significance for him. Even his blossoming romance with Amari faded from memory, because it had developed as the two had put the pieces of the puzzle together. As sweet as the notion was, they had no business together, not under those circumstances. Perhaps they might find their way into each other’s arms from another direction.
“The marks of your wrists,” Estelle explained. “The marks on Amari, and any other patient you encounter… you will attribute them to mosquito bites, and prescribe quinine, plus antibiotics.”
“Mosquito bites…”
“Good boy.” She stroked his cheek and leaned forward, clutching his strong upper arms as she quickened her rhythm. He felt good inside her. He was wonderfully hard, stretching and rubbing her perfectly. She let her jaw fall open as she slid up and down. He groaned, and her supernatural senses recognized the change within his body.
“Come for me, Paul. Come deep inside me and purge those memories from your mind and body.”
“Uh-huh. Gonna come.”
“Come inside my pussy. Let it all out. Fill me up.”
“Coming soon.” His muscles tensed and his hips rocked, meeting her movements.
“Give it to me. Give it all to me.”
“Aw… yesss…” His body arched and he clutched at her thighs.
“Come for me now, Paul. Come deep.”
He came, filling her with liquid heat, and lifting her off the bed with a single, drawn-out thrust into her. She groaned as he swelled momentarily, rubbing her wonderfully even as he squirted soft, probing jets of semen. Her body absorbed every drop, relishing it even more than the body she had sipped.
“Fuuuck!” he groaned. “Ahhh…” The tension fled from his hard body and he sagged back onto the mattress, devoid of semen, strength and memories. Estelle patted his chest as his erection faded, his heart rate dropped and his breathing slowed. Paul would remember nothing of their meeting. Quite what he would make of the ruined mattress, Estelle had no idea. Maybe she ought to plant the idea of mice into his mind.
She rose, and he slid out of her, to land with a wet slap on his skin. He sighed and a sleepy smile stretched his face. She leaned forward to kiss him for the last time, and his arms slid around her, pulling her close.
“Hmm. That’s not supposed to happen.” As gently as she could, she persuaded his arms down to his sides, then pulled a blanket over his naked form. She felt strangely fond of Paul, and curiously protective toward him. Such a pity, she thought. Such a waste.
She dressed quickly, slipping on her shoes at the door, and pulling the wrap around her shoulders. With a final glance at his sleeping form, she picked up the keys
to the Jaguar and closed the door to Paul’s apartment. A brief sting of loss tweaked her heart as the lock clicked. Why did she feel so drawn to this particular mortal? What was it about him that made her want to linger?
She shook her head and hurried out to the car park. The stolen memories reminded her how to start the car, engage gear using the clutch and stick, then release the clutch for a neck-snapping acceleration. She thrilled with joy—or at least the memories in her head did—as she sped off down the highway.
~
“You’re infatuated with a mortal!” Vane had stabbed her with the words the moment she’d stepped aboard Demeter.
“I only did as you instructed, Master,” Estelle protested. “I seduced him and purged all memories of his trail to us.”
“And in doing so, you’ve made the situation worse!”
“Worse? How—”
“Because he will be drawn to us once again. If he seeks us out, he will focus attention on us.”
“But… why would he seek us? I might be…” she sighed. “…infatuated, but he is unlikely to remember me.”
“Have you forgotten what I taught you?” Vane yelled. “When we feel strongly for one of them, they cannot help but be likewise affected.”
“Then I shall put him from my mind.”
Vane raised an eyebrow. “You believe it to be so easy?”
Estelle sagged. “Perhaps you might assist me, Master?”
“I can but try. However, I fear little can be done.” He pressed his fingertips to Estelle’s temple, then closed his eyes. She watched his eyes dart behind his eyelids as he searched her memories.
“I see the problem,” he said at last. “This doctor is skilled in the art of hypnosis. He has great mental strength. When you shared with him, when you delved into his mind, you—”
“I formed a bond.” Her hands flew to her face. “It was unintentional. I had no idea.” She stared at Vane. “Can anything be done?”
Vane shrugged. “We could kill him.”
“Master!”
“Or you could bring him before me, and I could…” He sighed heavily. “…attempt to undo the damage.”
“I would be happy to bring him to you.”
“Of course you would.”
“I’m sorry. I feel a strong kinship toward him, yet I cannot understand why this should be.”
“We must break your bond. This is not so easy to achieve, unless we can replace it with a different bond.”
“Master?”
“The female doctor. Were they not lovers?”
“They were, until I erased all memories of their path to closeness.”
“And why, pray tell, would you do such a thing?”
“Because it was inextricably woven into their quest to find you. To find us.”
Vane sighed. “We have created a mess.”
“We can rectify this, can we not?” Estelle pleaded. “You are powerful. I have witnessed your skill many times.”
“Matters of the mind, and of infatuation, love and desire are complex indeed. To counter one, it is often necessary to emphasize another.”
“I shall bring Paul Siddig to you, Master. Once here, we can decide how best to proceed.”
Vane waved a hand. “You cannot bring him yet.”
“I cannot?”
“The mind must not be manipulated more than once in a day. To meddle without care is to risk damaging the sanity.”
“Then I should bring him to you tomorrow?”
“And in the meantime, remain where you might watch his activities. He may yet feel compelled to return. This we cannot risk.”
“Do not fear, Master.” Estelle sprang to her feet.
“You are to watch, but not affect his actions, Estelle.”
“Of course, Master. I understand perfectly, Master.” She scampered from the room, leaving Vane to glance at Burns.
“She is over-eager, my old friend. I fear for our anonymity.”
Burns merely grunted.
~
Estelle parked the Jaguar in the next parking spot along from Paul’s. No sense in raising new questions, she thought. Paul was going to be fuzzy-headed enough, without trying to figure out why a supercharged sports car was in his spot. She pondered how best to approach the man whose memory she’d cleansed of all connections to her and Vane, and the clues which had led him to the marina.
Even though Vane had told her to maintain a distance.
It was impossible for her, and she knew it. Hell, Vane probably knew it too. He’d sent her here to watch Paul, but also so he wouldn’t have to look at her fawning face for the next twenty-four hours. Her eyes widened at the thought. Was she really so infatuated with a mortal? How did that even happen? She and Vane, along with Burns and a few others, had been luring men and women in equal measure to Demeter for years—when they were in port, that is. Demeter enjoyed hundreds of ports across the globe, moving regularly to avoid suspicious patterns of amnesiac citizens and peculiar scars. Their time here was nearly at an end. Six weeks was usually Demeter’s maximum stay. But judging by the determined efforts of Paul and Amari, six weeks had been too long. Estelle made a note to remind Vane of that fact. The way things were today, mortals were piecing together puzzles in very short spaces of time. Unsolved mysteries were becoming rarer. The tenacity of the electronic generation was astounding—and worrying.
She made another note to consider changing Demeter’s name—although Vane had retained it for centuries, moving it from one ship to the next. It was unlikely he’d change anything. He never compromised. He was so damn stubborn, it was as if he was flaunting his immortality at the world, challenging the humans. But times had changed, and the world was no longer a dark, savage place guarded by peasants with pitchforks. Now it was a brightly-lit, savage place with a camera in every pocket and on every street corner. When she returned the Jaguar, Estelle knew she’d be recorded many times. She was expert at confounding mortal minds, so none would remember her presence, but the cameras would not be so easily distracted. Maybe it would be better to have Paul return the vehicle, and then erase his recollection. No-one would be any the wiser, and Estelle’s face would not be recorded.
But why did the thought of leaving him cause her so much heartache? He was one of seven billion mortals, with no more longevity than a Mayfly. Vane thought he could cure him of any attraction. But what of her? Could he ease the weight in her chest too?
Perhaps she could address the problem herself, without needing Vane. She had twenty-four hours to find a solution, one which would allow her to back away from Paul and move on with her life. If nothing presented itself, she’d have to confess her feelings to Vane, and beg him to purge Paul from her mind. The process would be deeply unpleasant, and leave her anguished. But it would spare her decades of unbearable heartache. She pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to ease the pain within, but her heart only thumped harder, raising panic at the thought of never seeing Paul again.
It was a ghastly feeling. She had to see him one last time.
“Dammit!” She climbed out of the Jaguar, and stJohne over to Paul’s apartment. He answered quickly, and his wrinkled brow told her everything—he didn’t remember her. And yet, his eyes searched her face as if he was trying hard to recollect.
“Hello, Paul,” she said. A cloud of disjointed memories fluttered around his head, plain as day to the gifted Estelle. Somehow, he’d retained a few fragments of their time together. She was secretly pleased that she’d made such an impact with him, she was impossible to forget. It was true, she wasn’t in her white bikini now, something which might have triggered a memory. She’d chosen a short black skirt with a loose-fitting white blouse, and black heels. So it must have been her face her remembered.
“May I come in?” she asked. His big fingers were curled around the edge of the door and he filled the doorway, guarding his apartment.
“Ah… who are you, again?”
She pouted. “You’ve forgotten me already? After a
ll the fun we had?”
He glanced over his shoulder, then met her amused gaze. “Fun? I don’t remember.”
“What happened to your mattress, Paul?”
He frowned. “It’s ruined. Torn to pieces. How did—” Her kiss stopped the conversation in its tracks. As she pressed her lips to his, she sent warm feelings toward him, softening his shock and soothing away his confusion. She couldn’t restore his erased memories, but she could offer him shared images of their tryst, and the love she held for him.
Her eyes snapped wide. Love? Dismay filled her heart. It couldn’t be love. She barely knew him! Aside from the physical fun in his bed, she’d spent no time in his arms.
Things were far worse than she imagined. And now his arms were around her again, pulling her against him. Part of her wanted to remain there forever—which was longer than normal, given her age—but the sensible part of her mind told her to push him away. More contact would only result in more heartache. He ought to be with his own kind, not consorting with immortals.
His own kind. The thought struck her with physical force. Amari! If he and Amari were brought together, perhaps she could pair them off. Seeing him with the mortal doctor would be marginally less painful than thinking of him alone. But hadn’t Amari already promised herself to Vane? As an extremely rare ‘returnee,’ Vane would be keen to keep Amari away from mortal relationships.
Damn.
She found it increasingly difficult to think clearly. Held in Paul’s embrace, with his hot breath on her neck, her thoughts turned increasingly to her need for him, her desire to keep him close—always. Maybe Vane would make an exception for Paul. Maybe he’d allow Paul to swear fealty to Estelle, as Amari had done for him. It was a long shot. Vane was centuries old, and was very selective about his entourage. And all were sworn to him, not to each other. Damn… but she had to try.
