“Thank you, Brutus.” Yarrow picked up a laptop lying on one of the theater seats. He was about to start transferring files when Stone said,
“No. We’ll take the whole thing.” He reached for the laptop.
“What? No!” Yarrow became visibly upset and tried to pull it away. “This is months worth of work!” he protested as Stone pried his fingers off the laptop and tucked it under his arm.
“And you’ll get it back—once we finish our investigation,” Cassie told him. “But for now, it’s evidence in a homicide investigation.”
“Let me at least copy the files I need for the next few days!” Yarrow begged.
“Do you mean let you erase the scenes with underage girls?” Cassie arched an eyebrow at him.
“Of course not.” But Yarrow looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Some of them might look a little young, but that’s on purpose. I have everyone who works for me sign a contract stating that they’re over eighteen.”
“I’m sure you do,” Cassie said dryly. “Whether it’s true or not.”
He might present himself as a suave auteur who made highly specific pornography as art, but she could tell what kind of man Frank Yarrow really was.
A predator, she thought, staring at him. One who knows how to get around the law. Well not this time.
“We’re taking this,” she said, nodding at the laptop under her partner’s arm. “You’ll get it back when the investigation is over.”
“You can’t take it without a warrant,” Yarrow snapped belligerently. “I know my rights.”
“I suppose we could fight about it,” Cassie said thoughtfully. “But I’m sure if I make a phone call to my friend, Judge Thompson, he’ll give me a warrant for every piece of equipment you own—cameras, computers, everything. And not just the electronics—every toy in your dungeon is going to be taking a vacation in the PD evidence locker.”
“What?” Yarrow looked aghast. “You’d strip me bare! How could I continue to work without my equipment?”
“I guess you could buy more—though that could get pretty expensive,” Cassie mused. “Or you could just release the laptop.” She shrugged, as though she didn’t care either way. “Your choice.”
“You’re bluffing.” Yarrow narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you can get a warrant that fast.”
“Okay, let me just give Judge Thompson a call.” Cassie whipped out her cell phone. “Of course, being bothered at dinner time makes him grumpy but I think he’ll understand once I explain that you’re obstructing a murder investigation.”
“No, no, no—wait!” Yarrow held up his hands. “Fine, you can have the laptop.”
“For which we thank you,” Stone growled, tucking it under his arm. “Goodbye.”
“We need the names of everyone The Beast worked with first,” Cassie reminded her partner.
“It’s all in there,” Yarrow said sullenly, nodding at the laptop, now tucked securely under Stone’s arm. “I keep everything in one place. The contracts the girls signed are filed with the scenes they shot.”
“Convenient. Thanks.” Cassie nodded at him and gave him one of her cards. “We’ll be in touch. Call me if you think of anything else or if The Beast contacts you.”
“I doubt that,” Yarrow said bitterly. “If he killed someone by accident during a scene, he’s probably in the wind by now. I’ve lost my best star and all the work he did at the same time.”
“His victim lost her life,” Cassie snapped, losing patience with his “poor pitiful me” routine. “Think about that next time you hire some psychopath just because he has a big dick!”
Then she followed Stone out the door, hopefully leaving the porn producer in a cold sweat. The asshole.
Eleven
“Stone…” Cassie stopped, not knowing what to say. They had been driving for fifteen minutes already, back towards their end of town, and she still hadn’t found a way to broach the conversation about how her partner had acted during their visit to Frank Yarrow’s house.
She had never seen Stone that out of control—that scary. Her partner had always been so cool and calm—so logical. It had been frightening to see him go after Frank Yarrow with such single-minded ferocity. It made her think there was another side to her best friend that even she didn’t know about.
“Before you say anything, I would like to apologize for my behavior. I know that I crossed a line.” Her partner spoke in a low voice, shooting her a remorseful look as he drove. Clearly he wanted her to drop the subject now that he had apologized, but Cassie just couldn’t.
“I’ve just…never seen you act like that. Never seen you lose control like that before.” She shook her head. “You put both of us in danger. When I saw his bodyguard pointing a gun at your head…”
She broke off, her stomach knotting up all over again with the sick feeling of wondering if she was about to watch her partner’s brains splattered all over the wall.
“It will not happen again,” Stone said, his fingers tightening noticeably on the wheel. His tone was more than a little defensive, Cassie noted.
“Oh no? What if we find The Beast?” she demanded. “What then?”
“Then we will make certain he gets the justice that is coming to him,” Stone growled.
“Stone! That’s not an answer.” She blew out a breath in frustration. “We have to bring him in. You have to promise me that’s what we’re going to do if we run him down. You can’t start dishing out vigilante justice or you’re the one who ends up behind bars.”
“Since we are asking questions and making demands, I would like to know how you know so much about the kinds of sick scenes The Beast was filming.” Stone shot her another look, his pale blue eyes narrowed.
“What?” Cassie looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that you knew the name of the device the victim was hanging from—that Saint Anthony’s Cross.”
“Saint Andrew’s Cross,” Cassie corrected automatically.
“Exactly!” Stone thumped the steering wheel for emphasis. “And the letters—MBDS—”
“Do you mean BDSM?” Cassie lifted an eyebrow at him.
“Yes—that. You knew what all that stood for—what it was about. How?”
Cassie took a deep breath and blew it out. This was awkward—they were getting into territory they carefully avoided, both as partners and as friends.
“I suppose I could tell you I spent some time in Vice before we became partners, but that’s not the whole truth and you and I don’t lie to each other,” she said to Stone, who was still watching her from the corner of his eye as he drove.
“No,” he said shortly. “We do not.”
“All right, well…” Cassie cleared her throat. “All of that has to do with the Kink community—the Lifestyle. And for a little while—about six months or so near the end of our marriage—Keith and I tried it out.”
“You tried what exactly?” Stone demanded. He suddenly pulled the shuttle-car over into the deserted parking lot of a bank and turned to face her. “Did you let your ex-mate tie you to the cross? Did he beat you? Cut you?”
“God, no!” Cassie exclaimed. “It was nothing like that with us—those kinds of practices are hard-core and we were barely dipping our toes in the water.”
“What then?” Stone asked again.
“That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?” Cassie snapped. Now it was her turn to sound defensive. “You’re basically asking about my sex life, Stone. We don’t usually talk about things like that.”
“We never talk about it but please, Cassandra…” He reached out and brushed her flushed cheek with his fingertips, very lightly. “Please, I need to know. If he hurt you…”
“He didn’t—honestly.” Cassie took another deep breath, wondering why this was so hard to talk about. It wasn’t a big deal, really. Lots of people dabbled in kink to try and spice up their relationships—especially after the 50 Shades movies had come out. But the way Stone was lo
oking at her made her feel like she’d done something really deviant.
“It was nothing, really,” she said, as lightly as she could. “We took a few lessons from a dominatrix and did a little role playing—that’s all.”
“Role playing?” Stone frowned, clearly not understanding.
“Pretending—playing parts.”
Cassie shifted uncomfortably in her oversized seat. The Kindred shuttles were built for the large-framed Kindred warriors and she always felt like a kid when she was riding in the shuttle-car. When she drove, she had to pull the seat all the way forward to reach the pedals.
“Playing parts?” Stone asked.
“Geez, Stone—do I really have to spell it out? He was the Master and I was the slave. Or he was the schoolteacher and I was the naughty student who forgot her homework—stuff like that.”
Her cheeks were flaming now, though she kept telling herself it was no big deal.
“And he…disciplined you?” Stone raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, he spanked me. Mostly with his hand, sometimes with a ruler or a paddle,” Cassie said, feeling both embarrassed and exasperated.
He frowned. “And…you enjoyed this? Being…spanked?”
“Honestly, no,” Cassie said flatly. “I mean, I think I could enjoy it, with the right person. But with Keith, it just didn’t work for me.”
“Why not?” he wanted to know.
Cassie thought about pointing out that was a personal question too, but everything her partner was asking was personal it seemed they had gone too far for her to stop answering now.
“Well, the dominatrix we were taking classes from, Madam Electra, seemed to think it was because I didn’t respect Keith enough to be honestly submissive to him. She recommended that he try wearing a mask so I couldn’t see his face—I guess to up the fear factor or something. But before we could try that, our marriage crumbled so…” She shrugged.
“Did he derive pleasure from this…role playing the two of you did? Did he enjoy hurting you?” Stone demanded. “Did it make him hard to beat you?”
“Whoa, there—he never beat me!” Cassie protested. “It really only amounted to a little light spanking and paddling. And we were only doing it to try and put the spark back in our marriage. Which, as you know, didn’t work worth a damn.”
Stone shook his head.
“We have a name for a male who derives sexual pleasure from inflicting pain on a female among my people—we call him a ‘Broken One’. It is shameful to be a Broken One—perhaps the worst thing a male can be.”
“So I suppose you think it’s shameful to participate in any kind of BDSM or kink at all, then?” Cassie demanded. “I have to say, Stone—I never pegged you for the narrow-minded, judgmental type.”
He glared at her, his pale eyes burning.
“And is it ‘judgmental’ to be disgusted by what we saw in the house on Bayshore today?”
“Of course not! But there’s a world of difference between that murder scene and role playing with your spouse to try and put a little heat back in your relationship!” Cassie snapped. “Besides, you’re one to talk! The Blood Kindred bite their mates when they make love, don’t they?”
“Only to bond them to us by injecting our essence, which causes instant pleasure—not pain!” Stone protested.
“Right,” Cassie scoffed. “You can’t tell me you’ve never hurt a woman with those fangs of yours. They’re so freaking long you look like a vampire!”
Which might not be nice but it was true—she had noticed that Stone’s fangs seemed to get longer, especially when they were in close proximity to each other in an enclosed space. It was the same way his scent—a subtle, spicy, masculine aroma that smelled incredibly good—always seemed to fill the room when they were together. Sometimes he smelled so good Cassie had to physically distance herself from him in order to keep herself from doing something she was sure she would regret. It was then that his fangs were always the longest and the sharpest.
Like they were now.
“You think I can’t be careful of my fangs?” Stone demanded, his piercing eyes glowing in the dusk.
“I’m just saying they’re really long and sharp. I don’t see how you could kiss a girl without biting her,” Cassie pointed out. She wasn’t quite sure how they had started talking about this but it seemed important to carry her point.
“Fine. Give me your hand.” Stone held out his own, much larger hand for hers.
“What?” Cassie frowned at him.
“Give me your hand,” he repeated doggedly.
Uncertainly, Cassie extended her arm.
Stone took her hand in both of his and brought it to his mouth. Slowly…deliberately, he began to kiss her. First the back of her knuckles and then he turned her hand over and laid a gentle kiss in the center of her palm. From there his mouth traveled to the delicate bracelet of blue veins on the underside of her wrist, leaving a trail of slow, hot kisses that sent helpless shivers down Cassie’s spine and made her heart pound.
Oh God, what was going on? Why was her partner acting like this?
He’s just proving a point, she told herself, even as her heart continued to pound. Don’t read too much into it, Cassie.
“St-stone,” she stammered at last. “What…what are you doing?”
“Proving my point.” His voice was a low purr and his glowing eyes were half-lidded in the dim light. “Did you feel my fangs? Even once?”
“N-no,” Cassie breathed. What was wrong with her? Why was her voice shaking?
“So you see—a Blood Kindred can give pleasure without pain.” Stone kissed her again, this time laving the tender skin in the crook of her elbow with his tongue.
“Stone!” she gasped. Her heart was pounding so hard now she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. “You…you shouldn’t.”
“Why not? I am simply proving my point.” He pulled back at last, holding her eyes with his own. “A male should not cause pain to his female—ever. He should only give her pleasure.”
“But…I’m not your female,” Cassie pointed out breathlessly.
“You are my partner…the one I count closest in all of this world or any other. You are my female, Cassandra,” he growled softly. “Do not forget it.”
Then, without another word, he put the shuttle-car in drive again and pulled back onto the highway.
Cassie just sat there, looking at him, without a word to say. Her hand and arm still tingled where he’d kissed her and her whole body felt electrified with some emotion she was afraid to name, even to herself.
Twelve
Had he gone too far? Stone didn’t know—and part of him didn’t care. He had wanted to show Cassandra once and for all that he wasn’t like her ex-mate—or like The Beast, for that matter. What they had seen today in the murder scene cast a pall over all Kindred—unless he could prove that The Beast wasn’t what he seemed, that was.
Which is exactly what I’m going to do, he told himself. Somewhere on the laptop they had confiscated from Yarrow he was certain to find proof that the murderer wasn’t really Kindred.
He hoped, anyway.
“Hey, Stone?” Cassandra’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Hmm?” He turned his head to look at her.
“Where are you taking me?” She nodded out the window. “This isn’t the way to the station. We’re going to your house.”
“Exactly.” Stone nodded.
“But we need to write up a report,” she protested.
“And we will. But first we’re going to go through this damn laptop and look for evidence of The Beast’s true identity,” Stone said firmly.
“But…” She trailed off, as though uncertain of what to say.
“Do you have a problem with my plan?” Stone asked, frowning.
Cassandra bit her lip.
“It’s just…getting a little late. That’s all.”
“If we had gone to the concert, like we planned, we’d still be there right now,” Sto
ne pointed out. He looked at her directly. “Are you afraid to be alone with me now? After seeing what that other male who calls himself a Kindred did?”
“Of course not!” Her cheeks flushed angrily. “I know you could never do anything like that, Stone!”
“You probably thought I would never go after a possible suspect the way I did with Frank Yarrow, either,” Stone said in a low voice. “I have surprised and frightened you more than once tonight, Cassandra.”
He wasn’t only talking about the way he’d gone for Yarrow and he could tell she took his meaning by the way her cheeks grew even pinker. But she lifted her chin, a determined look on her lovely face.
“Stone, you’re my partner and my best friend. I’m not afraid of you and not afraid to be alone with you. I just thought the report should come first.”
“This way we’ll have more to put in the report.” He was pulling into the drive of the modest but neatly appointed domicile he had chosen when he first knew he would be stationed on Earth permanently. It was in the North Tampa neighborhood called “Carrollwood” although no one that Stone had met here was named Carroll and there weren’t many woods to speak of—unless you counted the oak trees which lined the streets.
“All right then.” Cassandra sighed. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us then. Guess I’ll pop some popcorn if we’re having a ‘movie night.’”
“I doubt the ‘movies’ we will be viewing will be anything like our usual fare,” Stone remarked darkly as he followed her to his front door.
He didn’t know what exactly to expect from the laptop, but he didn’t think he was going to like what he saw.
Not one damn bit.
Thirteen
“Oh, Daddy—it’s too big! You’re hurting me!”
Cassie cast a wary glance at her partner’s face as they watched the scene on the laptop together. They were sitting side-by-side on the couch, where they usually sat to watch movies when it was Stone’s turn to host. The laptop was sitting on the coffee table in front of them.
Playing Their Parts: A Kindred Tales Novel Page 6
