Pleasant Extortion [The Extortionists 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Natalie Acres

  Randon glanced at Pageant. How did he tell the woman he cared for that the reason the extortionist was still in town had more to do with her than their inability to stop him? “We’ve seen various patterns over the past few years and we’re pretty sure we can answer that now.”

  “Well?” Sheriff McKinney leaned forward and glared at Randon.

  “He isn’t leaving because he has every reason to stay.” He watched the light of recognition shine brightly in Pageant’s eyes.

  “Are you saying this guy is here because of me?” She shook her head. “No, you won’t lay that guilt down at my door.” She jabbed him with her finger. “How can you profess to care about me and then hit me with something like that?” She swung her arm toward the gate and waved her finger there. “Those people who died? I knew them, Mr. Shane. They were my friends and neighbors.”

  “Pageant, calm down,” he said, clinging to her forearms. “Let me finish.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! There’s a lunatic out there! We can’t see him. We can’t find him. Hell, we don’t even know if he is a he at all!”

  “This one is,” Kurt said,

  “What do you mean, this one is?”

  “Finish this, Randon,” Kurt said. “They have a right to know and we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “When you came in the diner, I wanted to tell you all of it, Pageant, but if you remember, I told you that you wouldn’t be able to sleep at all if I shared what we had on the extortionist.”

  “Don’t you dare try to play this off like you’ve been trying to protect me! We may have slept together, but from what I’ve gathered so far, your feelings for me are far stronger than mine are for you.”

  Randon flinched.

  “Ouch,” Kurt muttered. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  “She’s lying,” Randon said confidently. “But this isn’t about us, Pageant. This is about you and what you mean to the extortionist. Moreover, it’s important for us to discuss the extreme measures he’s willing to take to make you his.”

  “What do you mean ‘make me’ his?” The color washed out of her face. “Are you saying that some serial killer believes I belong to him?”

  Kurt crossed his arms and glowered at her. “Yeah, I know it’s sort of hard to fathom going to bed with a beast when—”

  “Kurt.” Randon shook his head, not at all in the mood for Kurt’s sarcasm.

  “Just pointing out the obvious.”

  Pageant’s fingers slipped under her hair and she slowly stroked a small patch of skin right below her ear. Randon’s cock twitched with a recent memory. He’d bitten her there. He’d marked her several places, but the one below her ear was an intimate expression as much as a ritualistic claiming. And she’d understood the significance then just as she understood now.

  “Well?” She dragged him from his thoughts. “Am I right?”

  “It’s not just a random belief or psychotic delusions.” He halfway expected someone to interrupt him, but when they didn’t, he made the decision to take Kurt’s advice and finish this. Maybe if Sheriff McKinney and Pageant understood what they were up against, they’d understand why it had been impossible to stop the extortionist. “You are his, Pageant.” Every muscle in his body throbbed in pain. The truth was tearing her apart. “As much as you belong to me in this world, in his world, you belong to him.”

  She slumped to the stoop once more. “And to think I’d just started to believe I’m only yours. Guess I was wrong on several counts.”

  “Have I missed something?” Sheriff McKinney asked.

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Randon countered her with full intentions of explaining the whole story. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Sheriff McKinney said. “Assuming you can tell the whole story before we’re attacked again.”

  Randon had wanted to tell her everything the night they’d met in the diner. Convinced knowledge would empower her, he’d later regretted that he hadn’t taken the time to let her know what he and Kurt had uncovered over the last few years. “We can’t leave anything out.”

  Kurt nodded in agreement.

  “Even if you have doubts, you will never be protected in this town if you don’t do everything I tell you in order to protect yourselves and Pleasant.”

  “Of course,” Pageant said, her eyes softer again.

  “Of course,” Sheriff McKinney mimicked her. “In fact, I’ll even strip off my badge, hand you my gun, and ask God if you can take his seat, too. How’s that?”

  “The first two, I’ll gladly accept. Not a chance on the latter. Kurt and I have a few supernatural abilities we can depend upon and so far, we’re no match for the extortionist. We need God on our side.”

  “He’s right,” Kurt chimed in. “We’re already convinced the extortionist is working with a power greater than himself. We need to find a way to do the same.”

  Pageant went pale and pointed to the area behind him. “Then you might want to start praying now, but in the meantime, run!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “This is getting old, man!” Kurt slammed the hotel room door and collapsed on the bed. His ragged breaths filled the room as Randon checked Pageant’s exposed skin—face, neck, and limbs, making certain she hadn’t been harmed in some way.

  “What happened out there?” She went to the window and drew the curtains. Peering around them, she asked, “Did Blaine, I mean Sheriff McKinney, escape?”

  “He made it to the jail,” Randon replied, leading her to the bed. His vision was still a little blurry thanks to the bolts of blue lighting the extortionist had thrown in their direction. During the worst of the attack, a large shadow pivoted and then waves of electrical currents were hurled in their direction. “Sit.”

  She followed his request and he squatted between her legs. Once more, he took a minute to reassure himself she was okay. He touched her everywhere, checking for broken bones. Then, he glanced at Kurt. “I’m convinced now more than ever before. Our suspicions are accurate.” He cupped Pageant’s round face and dragged his thumb across her swollen bottom lip. “Listen to me and don’t interrupt me until I’m done.”

  Pageant thinned her lips. After an obvious internal debate, she nodded.

  He was beginning to believe that asking Pageant to be quiet was akin to asking a toddler to sit still. He was wasting his breath.

  “McKinney was right. Alabama wasn’t the first time the extortionist struck. Several years ago in Oklahoma, one of the Bold and Free riders stumbled upon a small town during a rage killing, one that was thought to have started as a domestic dispute gone terribly wrong.

  “Drugs were involved so it was quickly dismissed as just that. The extortionist’s first attack, at least the first one we discovered, went down as a closed case with four star athletes committing suicide by a heroin overdose.”

  “Let me guess. There weren’t any track marks?”

  “No, and not only was it a bizarre claiming, but the coroner’s office backed up their claims in statements to the press. It’s the only attack we can find documented and the only reason it is public record is because it’s entirely false.”

  “Why would someone try to cover up the extortionist’s activity?” she asked.

  “I’m getting there,” Randon said, taking a seat on the short dresser. “The Bold and Free rider found out the locals hadn’t called in the Feds, so he did that. He even waited at the state line for the field agents. When they arrived, the Feds couldn’t cross the county line. Marcus Lanks, our Bold and Free brother who witnessed it all, said it was like a heavy purplish-blue glaze fell in front of their vehicles. Those who tried to walk across the state lines were enveloped by independent funnels, thought to be filled with poisonous gases.”

  “Were those suspicions confirmed?” she asked.

  “No,” Randon replied. “Several MC chapters were nearby and when Marcus called for his brothers’ help, they were able to cross lines without any probl
ems. Over the course of two days, one hundred and four bikers rolled over the county lines but not one Federal Agent.”

  “That isn’t a coincidence.”

  “No,” Kurt said, standing. “And it’s why the Bold and Free members became involved with the ongoing investigation. For one reason or another, the extortionist wanted to deal only with us.”

  “Because you’re criminals?” she suggested.

  Kurt’s lips twitched. “A lot has changed since our founding fathers got together and raised a little hell. Death has a way of changing a person’s perspective and since death seemed to follow us around for a while, we started paying closer attention to the clues left behind.”

  “Like?”

  Randon hesitated. “I wasn’t entirely upfront when we met.”

  “Neither was I,” she said, shooting him a grin that would melt an average man’s heart.

  His, however, quickly hardened. He couldn’t have his mate keeping things from him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You first,” she said in that agitated silken voice he’d come to quickly recognize as pure stubbornness.

  “Based on findings to support the evidence we have, we believe the extortionist takes personality traits and various characteristics from his victims, but he wants something more from the person he believes belongs to him.”

  “You keep saying ‘he’ as if you’re certain we’re dealing with a person.”

  “The extortionist here in Pleasant is a male. We’re certain because”—Kurt paused, searched Randon’s face, and continued—“he’s still here.”

  “It’s more than that. When you were in the parking lot the night Bart was attacked, I followed the extortionist into the woods. Once there, it became obvious he was leading me deeper into the forest. I won’t go into all the particulars, but something occurred to me then.

  “We may be dealing with an entity that has inside knowledge of pack laws and how the Bold and Free, in particular, operates. The extortionist may be one of us. Either that or he has inside connections we haven’t found yet.”

  “When we first met, you weren’t sure there was more than one,” she said.

  “We’re sure there’s more than one,” Randon said, retrieving his phone and scanning his messages. Finding a text message he received before he burst into Pageant’s meeting, he handed her his cell. “Another one struck late yesterday in East Tennessee. Two at one time confirms our suspicions are accurate.”

  “You keep saying he believes I belong to him. The only thing you have to go on is that he’s still in Pleasant and…?”

  “Our investigation shows none of these incidences have occurred in the same town unless they occur in the same location, generally a man or woman’s house—a man or woman who is later killed and left for dead. Days later, generally after these people are buried, they’re often spotted roaming their towns. Some of them have even returned to sleep in their former beds.”

  “I d…don’t understand.”

  “The extortionist will take everything he or she can until there isn’t anything left to take. More importantly, they seem to be obsessed with their chosen targets, often pursuing them as aggressively as a wolf-shifter or vampire would pursue his or her mate.

  “After the extortionist chooses the person they want to live as, a man or woman they believe is his or her chosen mate, then they seem to focus on removing obstacles. In your case, the obstacle was your job.”

  “If the extortionist here in Pleasant is a male, wouldn’t it make sense for him to choose another man?”

  “Apparently yours is a transvestite.”

  “Do you know how crazy this all sounds?” Her gaze jumped from one man to the next. “Do you?”

  Randon glared at Kurt. “Really?”

  “Just sayin’, man.”

  “The extortionist goes after a sexually compatible partner he will enjoy during self-sex sessions. Remember, he or she takes over his or her mate’s body.”

  Kurt released a hard breath. “Look at it this way, if I’m an extortionist, I’ll probably go to some random porn studio, pick up the hottest babe I can find, and stake a claim. That way when I’m standing in front of a mirror, getting off on a good time, I can enjoy what I see.”

  “Thank you, Kurt. I’d already put two and two together.”

  “Just trying to be of service,” he said, waggling his brows.

  “This is absurd,” she said, focusing on Randon again.

  “Crazy or not, it’s true. A lunatic is coming for you. Now, we need to work out a game plan to make sure he never finds you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “This won’t work, Randon.” Kurt, as unreasonable as he was, often ended up being his voice of reason. “He follows her scent worse than a werewolf follows his mate’s. There’s no way you’ll pull this off.”

  “It’ll work. You’ll see.” Randon arranged the Bold and Free jackets in two separate stacks. “Once her scent is on all these, he’ll be so confused, he won’t know which way to go.”

  “And at what cost? Hmm? Let’s say he follows her scent south only to discover he’s been manipulated. Then what?”

  Randon kept arranging the jackets. “All I’m asking for here is a little time. Buy us enough to get out of Pleasant. Buy Sheriff McKinney time to get the Feds in here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her we suspect these things always work in pairs?” He frowned. “Randon, if that’s so, we have to lead two of them astray and I’m afraid that won’t happen. One will stay here and guard the perimeter and the other will follow her trail.”

  “Then when you scatter, you’ll have to spread out quickly. If they have a way of communicating with one another, and most supernatural species can, then the second one will be hovering over her house within an hour or so after your departure.”

  “An hour?” Kurt shook his head. “Try several minutes.”

  Pageant entered the room then. Pale as a white sheet, she studied the jackets and said, “I can’t let you do this.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Kurt bit out. “If you want to live, you’ll go along with Randon’s plan.”

  “I’m an officer of the law,” she said quietly. “I protect people. I don’t put their lives in danger.”

  “Then I imagine your bags are packed and you’re ready to get the hell out of Pleasant.” Kurt tossed her the first jacket. “Put it on. Wear it around. Then, do the same with all the others. We’ve gotta get out of here.”

  Gripping the leather jacket, Pageant said, “Don’t you understand? If I do this, I’m putting all of you in danger. Somebody will die out there.”

  “Not this time,” Randon said confidently. “Our men were blindsided out there. They weren’t watching for the extortionist. I don’t know why they didn’t acknowledge the seriousness of the case, but they didn’t.”

  Pageant grabbed his arm and shook it. “Don’t do this, Randon. I can’t be responsible for more deaths.”

  “You aren’t responsible, honey. That’s on him. Not you.”

  “I’m an extension of him! Don’t you see?”

  Kurt took a deep breath, shook his head, shrugged, and left the room.

  Randon cupped her cheek. “No, I don’t see. When I look at you, all I see is my woman. You don’t belong to the extortionists. You won’t walk around here for eternity with no idea of who you are or where you’ve been. They may kill off all of us one by one, but by damn they won’t take you. We’ll guard you with our last breaths. And if something should happen to me, Kurt has given me his word, he will see this thing through to the end.”

  “What do you mean if something should happen to you?” Her eyes were wide and wild. “Don’t you see, Randon? That’s precisely what I can’t face.”

  “What baby?” He dragged her closer, breathing in her sweet scent as he held her. “What are you afraid of?”

  She sobbed as he wrapped her in his arms. Then, to his surprise, she reached up and kissed him, drawing him into a passio
nate duel of tangling tongues and groping bodies. When their kiss broke, she whispered across his lips, “I’m afraid of losing that, Randon. What we have is special. It’s electric. If I lose that, I’ll never love again.”

  Now probably wasn’t the time to tell her that he believed her. As his chosen mate, she would never love again if something happened to him and he would never love another if something happened to her. It was the nature of that aged curse.

  Then again, Randon’s ancestors all believed as he believed. With every curse came a mountain of blessings.

  “Come on, honey,” he said, dragging the first jacket around her shoulders. “We have quite a few of these and you have to wear them all so let’s get busy.”

  “I know another way we could get busy,” she said, gnawing her bottom lip.

  “You do?” He liked her way of thinking.

  He didn’t try to stop her when she stripped off her T-shirt, pulled down her pants, and lost her undergarments. Before he could lose his slacks and kick off his shoes, she’d stuffed her arms in the first leather jacket and knelt to the floor.

  Stroking her bottom with her palm, she eyed his slacks. “Spank me.”

  A guttural growl seeped from his lips as he picked up his pants and tugged the belt free. Folding the strap in half, he stood behind that glorious ass. Smiling to himself, he also caught a glimpse of those jackets, too.

  The fellows would just have to wait.

  He reared back and slapped the leather against her skin, loving the whimpers she released after the first strike. He spanked her again. Her butt didn’t jiggle or shake.

  “Sweet damn, woman. You make me horny.”

  She shook her bottom at him and peered around her torso. “Then demonstrate how a horny man shows his appreciation.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “I’m tempting you, Randon,” she whispered, moistening her lips. “How long will it take before you give into temptation and just fuck the hell out of me?”