"We’ll worry about that if and when it happens. Until then, we follow orders. Now, where is the whore?"
"The boys picked her up this morning. She was put with the others."
"Good."
"What did Catrina say about the young woman I picked up two weeks ago?" the first man asked, glancing toward a movement several buildings away. He was sure he saw someone lurking nearby.
"She hasn’t decided anything, yet. Knowing the boss, though, I don’t think she’s going to turn the girl loose now," the other man replied. "And quite fidgeting. There’s no one there, Gregori. You’re getting a little too hyper."
Ignoring the comment, Gregori continued on. "Then she’s a bigger fool than I thought," he scoffed. "I'm telling you the Lysannes aren't a problem yet, but they will be if Catrina does something stupid. Just release the girl and send her home. She hasn't been harmed. Buy her a ticket, give her a few dollars, and she’ll forget about all of this. She’s a fuckin whore. All she wants is the money, and she sure as hell ain't going to the authorities. Besides, no one's going to believe her anyway even if she does go to the police. Hell, she isn’t even an American. Immigration would deport her if they found out what she was doing."
"Maybe, but we can't take the chance. If anyone discovers what we've been doing, we'll all end up in jail."
"Christ, Ivan! You're as paranoid as that bitch you work for. No one is going to remember me. I’m always discreet and you know Rohypnol causes memory loss. Since when has my work ever been questionable?" Gregori demanded. "I’m telling you we can’t keep grabbing these women off the streets. Even whores are missed by someone... their pimp or another whore."
Ivan sighed. He knew Gregori was probably right but he had worked for Catrina long enough to know it was in his best interests to follow orders no matter how unreasonable they seemed. His boss had too many connections, not to mention she was ruthless.
"That’s not our concern now. This girl is a problem." If anything Ivan was persistant. Gregori shook his head in disgust.
"I'm telling you, just give her some money and let her go."
"And I'm telling you it’s not that simple and you know it! We can't let her go. She can identify us. Shit, this girl's cousin works for the Lysannes. That complicates things even more. Catrina thinks someone may have put a bug in Raidon Lysanne's ear about the business. She said to get rid of her and quickly."
"Whatever, Ivan. I'm tired of the whole thing. I want nothing more to do with this. I told you, in the beginning, the sex-trade business was a bad idea. Kidnapping and then selling women overseas is too risky. The money isn't worth the risk. I don’t even understand how Catrina gets those stuffy pricks to buy whores? You’d think they’d want less experienced women."
"That’s not for us to question, but I heard they think prostitutes are more experienced and less likely to attract attention if someone does miss them. Whores are used to being bossed around so it’s easier to break them in. Since her clients are willing to pay big bucks for our product, what do we care why they want them."
"Well, you can tell Catrina I'm finished with this shit. I’m not taking any more chances," Gregori said, disgustedly. "She has plenty of other lackies who can do this job." Throwing up his hands, he turned and walked away.
"I already did," Ivan replied, sadly. "I have my orders."
Gregori had taken only a few steps when something slammed into his back. Momentarily stunned he turned to look at Ivan, confused. His companion held a small gun in his hand, the barrel covered with a silencer. When he tried to speak, he felt short of breath. Something warm and wet filled his mouth and he coughed, swallowed and then gagged. Reaching up to wipe away the spittle, he stared at the bright red stain on his fingers. Ivan walked up to him, forcing the gun against his ribs.
"Sorry, my friend. No one quits without the boss's say so. Those are the rules."
Gregori never heard the muffled pop as the bullet punched past his ribs, ripping through a lung into his heart. Ivan caught the body as it slumped and gently lowered the dead man to the pavement. He had known Gregori for several years. This was a part of his job he hated. Slowly he placed the gun on the dead man's chest, crossed his hands over it and then reached up with a gloved hand to close Gregori's eyes. The dead should never be left looking at the living. Standing, he walked away. There was no room for friendship in his line of work, but Gregori had come as close to being one to Ivan as anyone.
* * *
"Gregori didn't need to be eliminated!" Ivan shouted, slamming his fist on the desk in front of him. "He'd never have told anyone anything."
"I couldn't take the chance," replied the woman calmly seated in front of him, her accent very mid-European. "He knew the rules. No one leaves unless I say they can leave. I made an example of him to remind the others... and you just in case you are getting too sentimental. Of course if I really thought that, Breshni would be standing here and you'd be lying out there with your friend. Now, enough about Gregori. What about the Lysannes?"
Realizing Gregori was a closed subject, Ivan began pacing back and forth.
"Raidon Lysanne is still in Moldova. He may have heard something about the girl by now, but I doubt if he knows about us... or the business. It’s only a matter of time, though. Unfortunately, as long as he remains in his country, he's almost untouchable. We've exhausted our resources trying to get at him there. Our best chance to eliminate him is through his sister, Yemaya. If we can get rid of her while she's here, he’ll have to come to the States to retrieve the body."
"Where is she at the moment?" Catrina asked, twirling her pen non-chalantly in her right hand.
"Last I heard she was in New York. I have contacts tracking her and a female journalist who's supposedly doing a series of articles on her. From what I hear, the two have become more than friends. Seems the whole damn family is queer."
"Something about gays you don't like, Ivan?" demanded Catrina, her voice suddenly very chilly.
"You're damn right! Men fucking men! Women eating pussy! It's not natural."
"Well, personally, I find 'eating pussy', as you so tastefully put it, quite satisfying," she replied, leaning back in her chair and staring coolly at her second-in-command.
Ivan stopped his pacing and looked at the woman. She couldn't be more than fifty-six, slim and very attractive. Her dark brown hair was shoulder length and slightly wavy, framing an oval face with flawless olive skin. Brown eyes the color of dark honey gleamed with a sadistic humor as she patiently sat through his mental appraisal. Her right eyebrow, raised slightly, emphasized the slight smirk as she awaited his final response. Wisely, Ivan decided to keep any other opinions to himself.
"Nothing to say, Ivan?" she asked disappointed. "You had a lot to say before. Don't let my position stop you. I like to know as much as possible about my employees," she added.
"Like I said, it's not natural. I think that says everything, don't you?" Ivan replied unwilling to reveal anything more about himself. A woman like her could make him disappear, no questions asked. Ivan wasn't foolish enough to believe he was the only one in his line of business working for her.
Catrina laughed. Men were so predictable. They assumed she was straight and were intimidated when they found she preferred women — not that she hadn't had some good times with a few men. Occasionally, she'd meet one who interested her. Normally her instincts were right. The man was more than willing to go down on her and usually was very good at what he did. Once her orgasms subsided, she didn't mind giving back as good as she had gotten. Her one regret afterward was having to eliminate the guy. She'd be ruined if any talked. Her eyes roamed up and down Ivan's body, assessing his looks and build. Standing very still, he felt like a caged mouse being watched by some sadistic cat. When she smiled, he shivered. Something about her seemed less than human.
"Another time, then," she promised, disappointed. Had he shown more balls, she might have been tempted to try him out. At least he could be trusted. "So, what do you sugges
t we do about Ms. Lysanne?" she asked, returning to the original subject.
"At the moment, nothing. I don't think she knows about the girl but if it looks like she's found out anything, I’ll handle it then. Right now, we need to know more about Ms. Lysanne's habits and routines"
"As long as it doesn't take very long. I can't afford to have anyone interfering with our business. You know what will happen if we're discovered. Eliminate her if you even suspect she knows something. Now, what about the girl? Have you taken care of her?"
"She's being held away from the others until we decide what to do with her. I think Gregori was right. If we kill her, the Lysannes will definitely get involved. Maybe we should just cut her loose. I don’t think she’ll recognize me and with him gone, there’s no connection to us now."
"I’ll think about it. I want to look at her, first, before I make a decision. Bring her to me," ordered Catrina. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation at having a new 'toy' to play with, and the knowledge that she would never release her.
"Here?"
"No, you fool. Bring her to my place tonight, say around eleven. I want to see this girl that’s causing me so much trouble."
"As you wish."
"Remember that, Ivan and you'll go far. Now keep me informed," she commanded. Ivan left, wondering why he had ever gotten involved with this woman. The fact was he had no choice and he knew it. Catrina Drenkova was a powerful woman. What Ms. Drenkova wanted Ms. Drenkova got — no questions asked. He had sold his soul to the devil and she was it, he thought.
CHAPTER 7
THE NAME OVER the entrance read Lilith's Den. The sign boldly displayed on the door read PRIVATE CLUB, WOMEN ONLY... ALL UNAUTHORIZED MALES WILL BURN IN HELL!
Damn, I like this place already, Dakota thought. Folding the small paper with the club's address on it, she tucked it into her coat pocket. From the number of cars in the parking lot, it was obviously a popular hangout. Hopefully, the owner wasn't one of those people that posted a sign and then let guys in if they were accompanied by a woman. She had seen that too many times and was always disappointed.
Shivering slightly in the cool night air, she walked rapidly toward the door and pushed it open. A blast of warm air welcomed her. Stepping inside, she was greeted by a large woman with several tattoos on her forearms and shoulders.
"I.D., please," she demanded in a gravely voice.
"Sure," replied Dakota, pulling her license from her wallet. "I'll take that as a compliment," she added, jokingly.
"It's policy. No I.D. ... Not allowed in. Boss's orders. Thanks."
Handing the license back, she motioned toward a side door.
"You can check your jacket there. It's mandatory. The boss thinks it's safer and friendlier that way. No surprises, if you know what I mean."
"No problem. It beats having to worry about it."
After checking her coat, she wandered down the hallway and into the main room. Gray swirls of smoke floated randomly around the bar, giving it a mysterious atmosphere. No smoking signs were posted on the walls. Dakota realized the haze was produced by machines concealed in the ceiling to enhance the laser lights flashing around the wooden dance floor on her right. Several couples were gyrating to the fast beat of techno music. To her left was a long black enameled bar lined by women talking loudly in an effort to be heard over the cacophony of music and the voices of the occupants at the tables. No where in sight was there a male.
So far so good, she thought. Walking to the bar, she pulled out some money and waited for one of the two bartenders to notice her. After a few minutes, a young woman stepped in front of her and smiled.
"So, whatcha going to have?"
"Corona and lime. Thanks."
"One Corona and lime coming right up."
Watching the woman walk to a nearby refrigerated locker, the journalist was intrigued by the bartender's appearance. Short red hair, highlighted with purple tips and combed into a spike, she was about Dakota's height but not quite as heavy. An orange tank top and brown jeans emphasized her slender physique. A chain link belt finished off the wardrobe. Bringing the beer back, she popped the top and stuffed a lime slice into the top.
"Here ya go. Three bucks."
Dakota gave her four and took a sip from the bottle, glancing around the room at the activity.
"Nice place. You ladies are serious about the 'no guys' thing."
"Yeah. That's one thing Lilith is adamant about. It makes for less trouble."
"Is it always this busy?"
"Fridays usually are. If you're looking for a quieter place, I'd suggest you come on Thursday or head on down to Lazy Susan’s. She has a few pool tables and caters to the country western crowd."
"Not my style. This is perfect."
"Good! Soooo... what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? I can't believe you're cruising. A looker like you has to be taken."
Laughing, Dakota switched her gaze back to the bartender just in time to catch a small, fiery glint in her dark brown eyes.
"That is sooo cliché."
"Yep, but it's a good starter and always works."
"I can imagine. Actually, a friend of mine left me a copy of an ad about this place. I decided to check it out?"
"By yourself? Why didn't you bring her along?"
"Rhonda? She's as straight as they come... not that she isn't cool. She just isn't a night person."
"Well, I can't believe you're unattached. Oh... by the way, my name's Agra."
"Hi. Mine's Dakota. Agra, eh? That's an unusual name."
"It's a nickname. My real one's too long to pronounce and too odd to remember," Agra laughed. "Dakota is a nice name. So, Dakota, are you or aren't you?"
"Attached? Definitely!"
"Well then, where's the lucky lady? She can't be dumb enough to let a good looking woman like you run around a place like this all by yourself. Too many cats on the prowl looking for kittens to gobble up."
"This kitten has both teeth and claws... and my significant other doesn't control what I do or where I go."
Agra raised her brows questioningly.
"I mean she’s not the controlling type. The relationship wouldn’t work if she was."
"Ah! An independent woman and in a relationship. How refreshing! Oops! Gotta get someone a drink. Be back in a few."
Waving goodbye, the bartender left to serve a woman at the end of the counter. As Agra leaned over the bar, the woman leaned in, their heads almost touching. Long, straight black hair swung forward, blocking both of their faces as they engaged in a quiet conversation. After a few seconds, the woman turned to look at Dakota. The journalist gasped. Pitch black eyes gleamed brightly in the dimly lit room. From a distance the woman reminded Dakota of Yemaya, tall, dark and sensual looking. Picking up her drink, Dakota moved to take a seat at a nearby table.
"I wonder if she's family," Dakota mumbled to herself.
"Do you always talk to yourself?"
Turning her head, she stared at the woman who had been sitting in the corner. Eyes the color of polished onyx reflected the flickering light from the candle sitting on the table.
"Always," Dakota murmured. "It's a bad habit of mine."
"I see. We have something in common then. I'm Lilith, the owner of this place."
"Oh. Hi. I'm Dakota."
"You seem distracted. Are you okay?"
"I was just thinking."
"That's never good in a place like this. You're supposed to forget all of your troubles here. Anything I can help you with?" asked the woman, sitting down at the table.
"Not really. And actually I was just thinking about you. You remind me of someone. It caught me by surprise," confessed Dakota, embarrassed.
"Ah. Well, I hope it's someone you like."
Laughing, Dakota smiled for the first time.
"Oh, definitely!"
"Good. From your smile, I can tell it's more than just friendship. Does she reciprocate?"
"Completely!" Dakota smiled, th
inking of just how well Yemaya reciprocated.
"I see. So where is she, if you don't mind me asking? You're too cute to be in a place like this on your own. Some of these women are very predatory."
"That's the second warning I've gotten since I walked in here. Is there something going on I should know about?"
Chuckling softly, Lilith shook her head.
"Nothing beyond the norm. I just like to look after my customers, especially newcomers. We get a lot of young women who go looking for a little excitement and then get more than they can handle."
"Believe me, excitement is the last thing I need in my life. I'm just here for the ambiance of being surrounded by women, nothing more."
Lilith - TI3 Page 4
