Hidden Desire

by Amy Patrick

  Hmm hmm.

  The loud throat-clearing noise is my signal to end the act. I lift my head, then sit up, my shirtless chest shielding Laney’s face from Father’s eyes. I feign surprise to see him.

  “Father. What brings you round this morning?”

  He strides into the bedroom, not the least bit concerned that he’s apparently interrupted a very private moment. “I came to see if you are all right. I was told that no one saw you out last night at your usual haunts. After you missed your delivery yesterday, I was concerned about you.”

  He studies me, running his hard gray gaze over my unclothed form. Instead of looking concerned, he appears irritated. “You certainly seem well enough. What’s going on?”

  “Going on? Nothing. Well actually...” I give him a sheepish grin and nod at the still female form lying beside me. “I took a night off. I was... tired.”

  His eyes glitter with amusement. “Tired, are you? I guess I know why.”

  Though my father is a high-powered celebrity attorney, not a celebrity himself, he used to keep his own small fan pod of human girls before Nox ended the policy and the fan pod system was dismantled by Alfred Frey, the Elven talent agent who created it. I’ve heard Father complain several times in recent months over the inconvenience of having random women brought to his home and then glamouring them later to forget what had happened during the night rather than having a ready and willing harem at his beck and call as he used to.

  He leans slightly to the side, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of my bedmate. Squinting, he smirks as if entertaining an indecent thought.

  Oh God—he’s probably considering sampling the goods himself. No! No no no. My heart does a triple backflip. I have to get him out of here—away from her.

  Pushing away the sheet, I roll from the bed and saunter toward him. “Let’s talk in the kitchen. Have you eaten? Care for some tea?”

  He allows me to herd him out of the room. I close the door behind me with a decisive click. Hopefully Laney will lock it and stay out of sight. She certainly seemed to get the message, but of course she didn’t see the lecherous expression on his face as he perused the shape of her body beneath the thin bed sheet.

  Reaching the living room area, he stops and turns to face me, his eyes piercing in their intensity. “Be careful that you do not go too far, my son. Your lovely neighbors may be our kind, but none of them is suitable to be your bond-mate.”

  “I know. Don’t worry.”

  But he’s not looking at me any longer. Something has caught his eye. He strolls across to the island, leans over, and draws Laney’s sandals from beneath one of the stools. He dangles them from the fingertips of one hand.

  “And if you have a human girl back there...” He holds up the sandals, perhaps gauging the small size of them. “Well, you’re welcome to your amusements—I can hardly point fingers—but it goes without saying that you must use ultimate self-control. I have plans for you. There is a bright side to your failure with Ava. It does afford us the opportunity to make an alliance with one of the like-minded rulers in Europe or Asia. I am in discussion with several of them regarding their daughters. We’ll need unbreakable ties if we’re to stand together against Nox and his allies.”

  “Yes, Father. I understand. This girl is... a pleasant distraction. I would never bond myself to her permanently. She’s not even that appealing—just someone who was in the right place when the mood struck me.” I swallow hard then school my expression into something I hope resembles lustful satisfaction.

  The grin on Father’s face is a mixture of viciousness and pride. “Very well, I’ll leave you to it. But see that your revelries don’t go on too long and keep you from your duties. Our plan is working, but we have to keep at it.” Flicking his gaze toward the bedroom, he adds silently, We cannot let up until the entire human population is either dead or hopelessly addicted. He winks. Or safely ensconced in fan pods for our enjoyment.

  Father goes to the front door and flings it open, glancing back at me with a look that’s not quite a warning, but close. “I’ll check in with you soon.”

  “Yes Father.”

  The door shuts, and I let out a long breath, sagging against it and staring at the tiles beneath my feet as my pulse slows to its usual pace. That was close.

  I’m not sure what I would have done if he’d decided not to leave the bedroom, but to investigate my “pleasant distraction” for himself. No doubt he’d consider a beautiful girl like Laney a perfect addition to some European celebrity’s private harem—after he’d had his fun with her.

  And if Father realized she was blind, he’d be even more thrilled. Without the ability to see, it would be harder for her to get away. He probably would have boarded her onto the first plane out of L.A., wrapped in a red bow as a special gift for his Italian or French counterpart.

  The thought turns my stomach. Laney is far too innocent, far too sweet to even be in the presence of those depraved egomaniacs, much less living with them and obeying whatever sick whim they might have.

  Shaking my head to dislodge the disconcerting mental picture, I lift a hand to massage one pounding temple. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I’m not acting like myself. I’ve never thought twice about the human girls kept as glamour-bound playthings in the fan pods. I’ve never worried about the people my father cheated or manipulated or hurt. I’ve never cared about the humans addicted and damaged, and yes, killed by the S drug. They weren’t—aren’t—my concern.

  The certainty of impending calamity invades my gut. I feel like a character in a disaster movie, living out the scenes just before the big catastrophe strikes. My thoughts are all confused, my nerves stretched as thin as angel hair pasta.

  Intending to go tell Laney the coast is clear—and bundle her onto the earliest departing jetliner—I spin around. She’s standing behind me again.

  “God,” I gasp, clutching my chest and staggering back a step. “You’ve got to stop doing that. What if he was still here?”

  “I heard him leave.” She shrugs. “So... that was weird.”

  She’s obviously waiting for an explanation, but what can I say? “How much of our conversation did you hear?”

  “Not much. But the way he acted... why did you lie to him about me? Why did you pretend we were... you know?”

  I stiffen and close my eyes. How can I explain such a depraved mindset to a wide-eyed innocent?

  “My father is not... a good man. I didn’t want him to get a look at you. I thought if he believed we were... busy... he might turn around and come back later. As you heard, he is not that easy to get rid of.”

  “But why? Why would you try to protect me? You just met me.”

  “I... I don’t know.”

  “At first I thought you wanted to hide me because you didn’t want your dad getting the wrong idea about a girl staying over. I thought he had some sort of high moral standards or something, and you didn’t want to disappoint him. But then... you took me to your room... to your bed. And when he came in... it sort of sounded like the opposite.”

  “Well, you’re partially correct. He does have certain standards. High morals have nothing to do with them though.”

  Staring down at her innocent face, her clean, straight hair, her tiny toes inches away from my vastly larger feet, I feel a surge of protectiveness. “Let me buy you a plane ticket,” I plead.

  Her expression of curiosity morphs into annoyance. “If you’re so eager to get rid of me, why did you ask me to stay at your place? Oh right—I was ‘in the right place when the mood struck.’ Don’t worry. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Just let me get my clothes on, and I’ll be out of your way.”

  My hand shoots out to stop her from marching away in an offended huff. Wrapping my fingers around her upper arm, I’m amazed at the softness of her skin. She’s so vulnerable. In every way. Though she denies it, she needs someone to watch out for her, to keep her safe. She cannot be allowed to wander this city alone.

  �
��You don’t understand. L.A. isn’t safe for you.”

  She whirls around and tilts her jaw up in defiance. “Is this about me being blind? Because if it is—keep your pity. I don’t want it, and I don’t need it. I’m through hiding and cowering. I’m going to live, or what’s the point of it all? Besides, it’s as safe here for me as it is for anyone else.”

  But you’re not anyone else. “Which, as things stand with the S Scourge, is not very safe at all.” The thought of something happening to her, at my father’s hands or any others, lights an angry fire in my gut. My voice level ratchets higher. “Now which will it be—airport, train station, or bus terminal?”

  “None of the above,” she fires back. “I told you—I’m starting work at the S clinic today. Nothing has changed.”

  How can she say that? I feel like everything has changed in the course of the past twenty-four hours. “Do you really think it will do any good?” I smirk. “The S Scourge is rampant now, not only here—all over the country. What do you think you’re going to be able to do about it—one little person slaving away in one run-down clinic? What difference do you really think you can make?”

  Her lips flatten in a stubborn line. “At least I’m not afraid to try.”

  For a moment, I’m too taken aback to respond. “I’m not afraid.”

  The tilt of her mouth is soft, sympathetic. “Culley, you’re about the most fearful person I’ve ever met in my life. You’re afraid of getting too involved with people around you, afraid of caring, afraid of being hurt.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re daft.”

  “Okay, fine. You’re not afraid of anything. That makes two of us. I’m going to get dressed, and then if you won’t point me to the nearest city bus stop, I’ll knock on Brenna’s door and ask if she will.”

  I heave a weary sigh. “No. That won’t be necessary. I promised to drive you to the clinic, and I always keep my word.”

  The corners of Laney’s mouth curve into a wry grin. “Really?” she asks. “Always?”

  I hesitate before answering. Why did I make such an asinine and blatantly untrue statement? “Yes. Starting right now.”

  Chapter Seven

  Stakeout

  Pulling up in front of the S clinic in Chesterfield, I cringe at the surroundings. The squatty painted brick building sits across the street from a pink liquor store, a smoke shop, and a closed-up appliance parts store.

  “Well... we’re here.”

  “This had better not be the bus station,” she warns.

  “No. That would have been smart. Instead, I’ve brought a helpless girl to spend quality time with junkies in the worst neighborhood in the city—just as you asked.”

  “I am not helpless.” She frowns in my direction. “Are you sure I look all right? I’m dressed appropriately?”

  After Laney retreated to the guest suite to shower this morning, Brenna stopped by with a shopping bag full of clothes for her. “Hope she doesn’t mind hand-me-downs,” she said. “I couldn’t believe it when I got your text last night. Who would steal a blind girl’s suitcase?”

  “I dunno. Thanks for this.” I took the bag’s handles from her, my bicep popping at the surprising weight of it.

  Obviously noting my shocked expression, Brenna explained. “I have a little shopping problem. I was glad to clear out some closet space. I hope they’ll fit her. She’s so much shorter. But the stuff like dresses and skirts and shorts should be okay. I know my shoes won’t fit her munchkin feet, though.”

  “No worries,” I assured her. “She’s got a pair of sandals. I’ll buy her anything else she needs to replace what she lost.”

  Brenna cocked her head to one side and gave me a funny look. “Ooookaaay. Oh—I talked to someone who knows someone who might need a roommate. I’ll find out more for you today.”

  “Great. Thanks. She can’t stay here again.”

  “Why? Does she snore?” Brenna guffawed.

  My response was stern. “No. But I like my privacy.” And I’m having sex dreams about her which will only get worse after what happened in my bed this morning. “Best case scenario is she doesn’t need an apartment at all. I’m hoping to convince her to go home.”

  Brenna flashed me a wide grin. “Good luck with that.”

  When I closed the door, I went through the bag and discarded anything skimpy or provocative. Brenna has a great figure, and she’s not shy about showing it. I had no intention of letting Laney parade her assets around—especially with the people she’d likely be working with today.

  “You look fine,” I assure her now, surveying the modest belted shirtdress that hangs down past her knees, then get out to go around and open her door. By the time I reach her, she’s already opened it and exited the car. I take her arm and guide her to the entry of the clinic. Part of me feels like I should go in with her, but then I reconsider. The workers might have seen me around the neighborhood.

  “Well, thank you for everything—the ride, and last night. I’m glad...” she pauses here as if she’s not sure she wants to say what she started to say. “I’m glad the first person I met in L.A. was you.”

  “Yes well...” I’m at a shame-fueled loss for words. “Have a good day with the S zombies.”

  She rolls her eyes toward her brow, smiling, and turns away from me, pulling open the door of the clinic and disappearing inside.

  Very slowly, I stroll back to my car. Sitting behind the wheel, my eyes follow a wasted looking man as he staggers up the sidewalk and into the clinic. My knuckles tighten around the leather covered gear shift.

  A beep from my phone alerts me to a new message. Glancing down at the screen, I scroll through the texts I ignored last night and this morning. And slip it back into my console. I have a full schedule today. Tonight’s even busier, thanks to all the stops I missed last night. I should get started on my deliveries.

  All right then. I nod and grip the gear shift to put it into drive.

  * * *

  Five o’clock. That’s late enough. Laney has not yet emerged from the building, and after eight hours of sitting in my car in this same spot, I’m starting to feel like a pressure cooker that’s about to blow. I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

  My patience is at an end now, though. I’m tempted to march into the place and demand to know what’s keeping her. I know she’s still in there, though I haven’t caught sight of Laney all day—thankfully she and her co-workers did not leave the building for lunch.

  The thought of lunch unleashes a loud growl from my belly. I didn’t think to bring any snacks with me, and it feels like my stomach is starting to eat itself. I glance at the clock on the dashboard again—5:05. Where is she?

  The only thing worse than the hunger pangs is the unrelenting boredom. Every time some unsavory character walks down the street in front of the clinic, my muscles tense, but actually, it’s been a very quiet day in the neighborhood. The most interesting thing to happen was several hours ago when some street punks—who apparently couldn’t see me sitting behind the tinted glass of my windows—started removing my lug nuts in an apparent attempt to steal my tires.

  I jumped out of the car and scared them off, putting a big helping of Sway into my instructions not to come back. At least I got some exercise. Swiping the ignore-call button on my phone doesn’t really count. I finally had to turn it off, it was ringing and notifying me of texts so often.

  Finally, Laney emerges from the door of the clinic, turning back to smile and wave at someone inside. I throw open my car door and approach her.

  “Have a nice day at work?”

  She jumps, her hand coming to the base of her throat. “Culley. You scared me. What are you doing here?”

  “Picking you up after work.” I take her other hand and tug her toward my car.

  She stumbles along with me, babbling her protest. “You don’t have to do that. I told you I’m fine. My co-workers gave me directions to the bus stop and some suggestions about where to look for a low-cost apa
rtment.”

  “You won’t be needing those suggestions. Brenna told me she’s found a place for you.” I throw the half-truth out there in a soothing I’ve-got-this tone, hoping she doesn’t dig her little heels in and refuse to get into my car. “We’re going to see her right now. She’ll tell you all about it.”

  I open the car door and wait for her to take a seat, but she doesn’t immediately. She stands there, a medley of thoughts parading across her face. “Fine, but you really didn’t have to come back for me. You must have better things to do than babysit me.”

  “No, not at all,” I say, powering my phone up again and wincing at the number of calls and texts I’ve missed. I will need to get Laney into an apartment and out of my condo soon. Now that Father’s come by my place once—I know there’s at least a slim chance he’ll do it again. “So, what did you do all day?”

  “Oh, I met so many people. The clinic director, Shane, let me be the greeter and pass out forms and do the intake interviews.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “What did you do today?” she asks.

  Sat in my car watching the clinic door. “Oh, this and that.”

  “You never told me what you do for a living.”

  Well, I’m a drug dealer and a lackey to my Dark Elf father who’s plotting to take over the world and enslave all the humans.

  “I’m a model.”

  “Ha ha.” She nods her head side to side in a silly bobble head doll way. “What do you really do?”

  I smile, tickled at her skepticism. “You don’t believe me?”

  “How many people in the world are actually models? It might work as a come on line for most girls, but I’m not buying it.”

  “All right. You got me. What do you think I do for a living?”

  “Hmm... well, you came here from Australia, obviously. And I’d say you’ve also lived in England. So... you travel for your work.”

  “You have a good ear.”

  “That tends to happen when you lose one sense—you rely on your others more strongly. You also wear very expensive cologne and clothing,” she continues compiling the clues.