Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  The average success rate—that is, a woman who makes it through the trials one of The Elite will put her through—is thirty percent.

  My personal success rate is sixty. And it’s all because I am diligent, detailed, hypervigilant, and I do my fucking homework. I’m not perfect. No one is. I can’t tell just by stalking a woman whether she’ll have a high pain threshold or if she’ll be able to withstand the brutality of being fucked by one of The Elite Trainers in every hole she owns, for hours on end. The only way to find that out is to put her through it. But I succeed where others fail because I instinctively choose women who, after hours and hours of watching and following, appear to have an inner strength that sees them through a night of horror.

  “What now?” Baron asks after we head back up to ground level.

  “Home,” I say, even though that’s a complete lie. But where I’m going next, Baron isn’t invited.

  No one is.

  She’s my secret. My guilty pleasure.

  Mine.

  Chapter Two

  Hawk

  I stand across the street, shoulder propped against a streetlamp, and pull my baseball cap low over my eyes. Early commuters dash by, paying no attention to me, their minds already entrenched in the stressful day ahead. The ability to fade into the background is another of my qualities that make me so fucking good at the job I do. Surprising, really, considering I’m six feet three, built like an NFL linebacker with dark mocha eyes, black hair, and a thick beard. Not to mention the tattoos covering a significant portion of my body. But for some reason, I’m the invisible man, and that suits my purposes, allowing me to watch, wait, and then pounce.

  A sixth sense bites at me, and I straighten, my eyes going to the entrance of the building across from my vantage point as the door opens and Calla appears. She jogs away from her building, her dirty-blonde hair tied in a high ponytail. She’s wearing those adorable pink three-quarter-length athletic pants with a matching racerback top, despite the cooler temperatures this last week. My dick lengthens and thickens as it always does the second my eyes drink her in. I don’t know what it is about her that’s so different, but I’m drawn to her in a way none of the hundreds of women I’ve taken over the last decade have ever come close to.

  Which is why she isn’t going to make it into The Elite program.

  She’s mine.

  I chose her, and I’m keeping her for myself.

  I have it all planned out. When I take her, she’ll try to escape, and given that I don’t have the connections The Elite do, I can’t risk her getting away from me. Which is why I have a secure place high up in the mountains, far away from any Elite facility, where she can acclimatize and gradually come to realize I’ve saved her, not stolen her.

  Fortunately for me, I haven’t received an order to snatch a girl meeting Calla’s description, so technically, I’m not breaking the rules by taking her for myself. I’m all too aware, though, that at any time, the order could come in, and if it did, I’d have no choice other than to hand her over to them. Which is why I need to move swiftly, just in case.

  I’ve seen what happens to trackers who go against The Elite. It isn’t pretty.

  I wait for another few minutes, then amble across the street and enter her building. She lives on the first floor in a one-room apartment. I’m intimately familiar with every inch, seeing as I’ve been inside several times since I first spotted her sitting in the window of a coffee shop a month ago. I’d cursed the timing, especially given I also had Red to track, but now that she’s been safely delivered in time for the next selection process, I can focus one hundred percent on Calla. I won’t have long before I receive my next order, which is why I need to tie up a few loose ends and then make my move.

  Using the key I had made from when I stole Calla’s bunch from her purse before returning them, leaving her none the wiser, I unlock the door and go inside. It’s a small space, made worse by Calla’s clothes strewn everywhere. She’s the kind of girl who tries on a thousand outfits before choosing one she’s happy with. This works in my favor. She has so much stuff that I’ve found it easy to sneak a few items here and there. She’ll settle much faster if she has one or two familiar things around her.

  After I have the things I came for, I reluctantly lock up and leave. I have a four-hour drive ahead of me to make sure everything is finalized, and I can’t afford any mistakes. As soon as I take her, there’s no turning back.

  I’m halfway back to Denver when my cell phone buzzes. I wrestle it from my pocket. Baron. What the fuck does he want?

  “Yeah?” I grind out. “What’s up?”

  “Viper has been trying to contact you. They want us at the selection process tomorrow night.”

  I check the recent calls screen on my phone. Nothing.

  “I don’t have any missed calls from him.”

  “Yeah, he said it kept going straight to voicemail and his texts bounced. Where are you, anyway? I’m at your place and it’s in darkness.”

  Baron, I’ve decided, asks far too many fucking questions.

  “Tell Viper I’ll be there.”

  I cut the call before Baron can piss me off any more than he already has. At least now I have an excuse to call Viper and discuss the annoying fucking bastard. I want him off my back and off the team. What they do with him after that, I couldn’t give two shits about.

  You know what they’ll do.

  Yeah, well, too fucking bad. Not my problem.

  I pull into my driveway and kill the engine, half expecting to find Baron with his ass parked on my stoop, ready with another twenty questions I won’t answer other than with a punch to the face. Lucky for him, he’s given up and gone home.

  I enter my house, flick on the kitchen light, and throw my keys on the counter, then I put in a call to Viper.

  “The wanderer returns,” he greets me with. “I almost sent out a search party.”

  I laugh. I’ve known Viper long enough to recognize when he’s jesting, and while he’s a scary motherfucker, he doesn’t scare me. “Jesus, can’t a man take a piss without coming under the spotlight?”

  “Long fucking piss,” he comes back with. “Baron get the message through?”

  “Yeah. Girls giving you trouble?”

  Asking some of the trackers to attend the selection process wasn’t that unusual, but we were only normally called upon when The Elite wanted a little extra security.

  “Just one.”

  I grin to myself, knowing the answer before he confirms it. “The redhead.”

  “Yep. She bit the doctor. Had to send him for a tetanus shot.”

  I laugh. “I told you she was feisty, and if I recall, on that basis, you decided to train her yourself. Changing your mind? Worried she might bite your dick off when you ram it into her mouth?”

  “Not in the slightest,” he drawls. “You know how I enjoy taming the wild ones.”

  “Well, if anyone can, it’s you,” I reply.

  He chuckles. “See you tomorrow night.”

  “Just before you go, I want to talk to you about Baron.”

  “What about him?”

  “He isn’t right for this job.”

  A pause comes over the line, and I can almost visualize Viper leaning back in his high-backed leather chair and resting his feet on his desk. “In what way?”

  “Too many to mention, but I’ll leave you with this nugget. If he’d gone to pick up Red on his own, you wouldn’t have received a virgin.”

  “He touched her?”

  I snorted. “No, but he would have if I hadn’t been there. He doesn’t have the right attitude, or self-control, or discipline required for this job. He’s lazy and arrogant, and I have to refrain from throat punching him every time he opens his mouth.”

  Viper chuckles again. “I hear you, and I’ve had my own doubts for a while, too. Which is why I’ve put him to a little test. If he passes, then you and I will talk again. If he fails…”

  He trails off, and my jaw goes
tight. “What test?”

  “We’re a girl short for tomorrow. Davenport’s take went to shit, and he had to pull out. I asked Baron to find a replacement.”

  “In a day?” I bark. “Without due diligence. Are you crazy?”

  “Careful, Hawk,” Viper snaps. “Remember who you’re fucking talking to. He’s unlikely to succeed. Davenport is trailing him. He’ll step in if it all turns to shit. I’ve given him full authority to do what’s necessary.”

  I know what that means.

  I grind my teeth. If anyone offs Baron, it should be me. I’ve had to put up with the jerkoff for the last God knows how long, yet now Davenport gets to steal my fun.

  “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

  Viper cuts the call, leaving me hanging.

  Chapter Three

  Hawk

  I intended to swing by Calla’s apartment on the way to the facility, but I hit a line of traffic on the highway after a multicar pileup and only just make it with five minutes to spare.

  Inside, my gaze falls on Baron standing with Davenport. He’s wearing a smug expression, which I take to mean he succeeded in obtaining a girl, although what fucking use she’ll be when there’s been no time to shadow her properly is anyone’s guess.

  He gestures me over. I ignore him, instead heading off to find Viper. I locate him in his office, but I have to cool my heels until he finishes a phone call. He beckons me inside, and I take a seat across from his desk.

  “He succeeded, then,” I say.

  Viper nods. “Surprisingly, yes. Davenport was pretty impressed with him.”

  “Good,” I bite out. “Then Davenport can take over his fucking mentoring. I’m done.”

  Viper cants his head to one side. “What is it about Baron that gets up in your grill?”

  “He takes up oxygen better spent elsewhere.”

  Viper barks a laugh. “I should have known better. You’re a lone wolf. Always have been. But you’re also the best at what you do.”

  I nod. “So I’m done?”

  Viper sighs. “Fine. I’ll speak to Davenport.”

  “Great.”

  I rise to my feet, and so does Viper. He drapes an arm over my shoulder.

  “Let’s go have some fun.”

  “Fun for you,” I say with a laugh.

  “You never know, Hawk. One day you might get promoted.”

  I take up residence behind where they’ll line up the girls while members of The Elite training squad inspect each one before there’s a group discussion about which girl will be matched with which trainer. It’s far from random. The uneducated might think the trainers don’t care whether a girl passes or fails the tests, but that isn’t true. They are as keen for the women to make it into serving The Elite as I am. It’s all a matter of pride. I want the girls I’ve selected to make it because it solidifies my position as the best tracker, and the trainers want them to succeed because they want to maintain their position in the training program. Some of them genuinely want to help the girls into womanhood. They enjoy being the first man to penetrate a virginal woman. Others are sexual sadists who relish the ability to test the limits of these young innocents.

  A couple are just plain cruel.

  Then again, I’m not here to judge.

  The Elite Trainers file in first, and they take their seats. Once they are in place, the women are brought in. My Red is second from the front, and despite where she is, her spine is erect, her shoulders back, and her eyes flash all kinds of venom. I chuckle under my breath. Good luck, Viper.

  I skate my eyes along the line, working out where, if any, trouble might arise from. Apart from Red, they seem like a meek bunch, and I wonder what my tracker coworkers are playing at. Poor bitches. I’d estimate that the majority of these women won’t make it through the night. Some will probably fail on the very first test.

  When my gaze falls on the last girl shuffling along, head bowed, my heart crashes.

  No.

  It can’t be.

  Calla.

  What the fuck is she doing here? How?

  God-fucking-dammit.

  My brain races, trying to find a solution to an insurmountable problem. I can’t save her. It’s too late. She’s lost to me.

  I scan the room, and my eyes fall on Baron standing by the entrance where the women were brought through. He nudges Davenport and jerks his chin at Calla, then blows on his fingertips and grins.

  An icy chill speeds through me.

  She’s the woman he took. Viper’s test has resulted in a fucking nightmare I can’t escape from.

  He’s dead.

  I’ll kill him.

  I will slit his throat and drain every drop of blood from his body.

  Calla is mine.

  I cannot stand idly by and allow this to happen.

  Skirting along the edge of the room, I come up behind Viper. Dropping to a crouch, I whisper in his ear. “If that’s the girl Baron took, I rest my case. A fucking blind man can see she has no chance of making it through the tests. I didn’t think we were in the business of selecting women destined to fail before they remove a stitch of clothing.”

  I’ve taken a risk by questioning him, especially in front of his peers, but my voice is low enough that only he can hear me.

  Viper keeps his head facing forward. “You have a point, but it’s too late now.”

  “No, it’s not,” I insist. “Why waste a trainer’s time?”

  “What would you have me do instead?” Viper asks. “We can’t simply take her home. She’s seen too much. Although…” He rubs at his chin. “I guess we could send her straight to one of the brothels.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I say, trying my damnedest not to sound on edge. If he gets any sense that I give a shit, questions will be asked, ones I’m not keen to answer. “I can take her.”

  Viper nods and gestures to one of the men with the bullwhip.

  “Her,” he says, pointing at Calla. “Bring her to me.”

  The man roughly grips Calla by the elbow and shoves her in Viper’s direction. I straighten and take a step back. I can’t show too much interest in what happens next.

  I’m so close, so damn close… and then shit flies everywhere.

  Typhon, a seasoned trainer and one of the most vicious, cruel sadists I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet, focuses his attention on Calla. And I see it right there in his eyes. Delight. He knows she’ll break, and it heightens his pleasure.

  “Problem, Viper?” he drawls.

  “Nothing that can’t be easily solved,” Viper replies with a sharp glance in Baron’s direction, one that pleases me. Maybe now Viper will realize he’s deadwood and cut him loose.

  “This one was a last-minute replacement,” he continued. “And she’s all wrong. She won’t make it, and our time is too valuable to waste on an evident failure.”

  Typhon rises to his feet and plants his big hand around Calla’s throat. He looms over her, and I see the terror in her eyes as he licks up the side of her face, then smells her much as a wolf might smell a deer it’s taken down but not yet killed.

  “It’s my time to waste,” he says with an evil grin. “Besides, she might surprise us.” He scans up and down the seated trainers. “Anyone have an issue if I take this one tonight?”

  Yes! A voice inside my head screams. I have a fucking big problem. But there’s nothing to be done, and as each of the men shakes his head and Typhon shoves her toward the exit, I have to face facts.

  I’m fucked… and so is she.

  Chapter Four

  Hawk

  Smoke coils into the air, swallowed by the black sky as I drift around the courtyard of the facility trying to curtail the inferno blazing inside me. I had to stand there, watching as the trainers each took their turn selecting a girl before leading them off to begin a night they’ll never forget. Even Viper wrestling with Red as he propelled her from the room didn’t bring me any respite from the desire to maim and kill. Not on a generalized basis
. No, I only have the hunger to end one individual: Baron.

  I blow out another stream of smoke, then flick the half-finished cigarette away. It lands in a puddle and hisses, extinguishing the glowing red tip.

  My mind won’t stop racing, trying to find a solution that doesn’t exist. I can’t save Calla from her fate, and that fact sets me ablaze once more. She won’t pass Typhon’s tests. Very few do. Out of all the trainers, he’s the one who seems to delight in sitting at the bottom of the leader pile when it comes to the emergence of successful maidens. He starts out aiming for them to fail and takes immense pleasure in breaking their bodies and their spirits. I don’t understand why Viper keeps him around, but even though I’ve known the head of the Denver Elite facility for more than a decade, asking him such a question will result in a speedy reckoning, and I’m rather attached to my dick.

  I have to face facts. I can’t save Calla from Typhon’s sadistic tendencies, but I still have one chance to make her mine. It’s a risk, but I’m confident I can pull it off. Questions might arise afterward, but I’ll deal with those when and if I’m faced with them. No point in erecting roadblocks that might never appear.

  “There you are.”

  I slowly pivot as Baron ambles toward me, his expression triumphant. A fresh wave of rage twists my insides, but I tamp it down. I’ll have my revenge, but not here. Too many prying eyes.

  I paste on a fake smile and tap another cigarette from the packet. I offer the pack to him. He declines.

  “Just getting some air,” I say, lighting the cigarette.

  “Think Viper’s going to have some trouble with that girl we took,” he states, grinning inanely.