Blood for Her

by Serenity Snow

  Her ability had grown increasingly dangerous as she’d aged, and her mother had instilled in her the necessity for secrecy even from her father. Darice had learned to use it with care which was why her self-control was so good.

  “Speak up.” She put her hand on his thigh again, and he twitched from the increased voltage. “I’m not understanding you. Who paid you?”

  His eyes glowed with fury, and he hit her in the shoulder with his injured hand though he’d been aiming for her face from the looks of it. The blow was a cheap imitation of his earlier one and his limbs looked jittery.

  Looking into his eyes, it appeared as if the move had taken effort as his shoulders rose and fell rapidly with his breath.

  “I’m not telling you a thing,” he said through gritted teeth. “That stunner you’re using is only going to knock me out. When I come to, I’ll be in the hospital ready to press charges.”

  “That is where you’re wrong,” she said implacably. “You’ll answer my questions

  or—”

  He sat up then and grabbed her by her throat. He squeezed hard, but she didn’t panic.

  “I’m going to enjoy fucking your bitch until her pussy is so sore she can’t breathe straight, let alone walk. Then, I’m going to take her ass. When she’s screaming from the pain, I’m going to cut her throat while I come.” He cackled. “It’s too bad you won’t be there to stop me.”

  The car pulling into the lot had him squeezing a little tighter. And the rage boiled inside her. For all her control, Darice knew she was going to kill him.

  “Help’s here,” he said. “Saved by the tires.”

  “It’s too bad,” she whispered. “I was hoping I could kill your employer instead of you.”

  Chapter Eight

  His eyes widened in mock fear, and he chuckled. “You’re the one with my hand around your neck.”

  His grip was tight, bruising even, and she was going to be glad to put him out of his misery, but she waited. Darice didn’t want to kill him with a witness.

  “Help!” he called out and grinned, showing crooked mother of pearl teeth, stained with the coffee on his breath no doubt.

  “What a mess,” Sabrina Cain said from above them a moment later. “Is this your woman’s stalker?”

  “One half of the duo,” Darice murmured. “He’s not interested in talking.”

  “Then I suppose you’re done,” Sabrina said crisply.

  “Call the police, bitch,” he commanded.

  “Should I call the police, Darice?” Sabrina asked with a hint of amusement in her tone.

  “What?” he exclaimed. “Why are you asking her? She has a gun, lady. She’s not going to just let you walk away.”

  “I’d blow his brains out if he’d attacked my woman,” Sabrina said in a chilling tone that rang through Darice like a winter wind.

  She knew the man would make bail and come after Chloe again. What if he managed to get to Slate and disable her? She was sure he’d make good on his threats to harm Chloe and everything inside her rebelled at the thought.

  “Call ‘em,” Darice said, her tone deadpan. “Someone started shooting and the dumb fuck must have forgotten to get down.” Darice put the gun to his head. “You made a mistake coming here, but it’s your last.” She fired, and he slumped back onto the ground.

  “I’ll get a shirt from my car,” Sabrina said. “We’ll use yours to press to his wound and pretend like we tried to stop the bleeding.”

  “Good idea.” Darice said and waited for her friend to return. She’d go in and see Chloe. Then, she’d come back out and wait for the cops. The blood droplets on her pants would back up their story of her trying to help the guy.

  “Here.”

  Darice removed her tie and ripped off her shirt. She tossed it onto the man’s body before pulling on Sabrina’s, glad they were still the same size. She buttoned and tucked it in before putting the tie back on.

  Darice pressed her shirt to his leg for a moment to get soaked with his blood. Then, she let it fall to the ground.

  “I need to go to Chloe. If the cops arrive before I get back, just tell them the story.”

  “Hurry up. I’ll call the moment you’re inside.”

  Darice went to her car and checked out her face in the mirror. There were a few stray drops of blood marring her skin, but that would only add some credibility to the story of finding and trying to help the guy.

  Confident they’d thought of everything, Darice jogged up to the building. Chloe was in her arms the second she walked through the door.

  “Dari,” she exclaimed.

  “I see you can still shoot,” Slate said coolly as the younger woman looked her up and down. “I guess the years haven’t changed much.”

  Darice gave her a cool stare. There was something in her eyes that didn’t set too good with her. Darice brushed it off, but her instincts wouldn’t forget to temper her words around the woman.

  “I can still take you down, little girl.” She brushed a kiss to Chloe’s head. “Slate, you got a back-up weapon?”

  “Always,” she said with a shrug.

  “I’ll get this back to you later. Cops are going to be here soon. I don’t want you getting caught with this one on you.”

  “Right. But what about you?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Darice said. “I won’t be here.”

  “Are you okay? Did he shoot you?” Chloe stepped back to check Darice out.

  Darice patiently endured the roaming-hands. “I’m okay,” she assured Chloe.

  “He hit you,” Chloe murmured, pain in her eyes as she caressed the bruise on Darice’s face.

  “It’ll be fine,” Darice assured her soothingly though she didn’t pull away as Chloe stroked her cheek and fussed over her.

  It felt good to have someone care if she lived or died. Yeah, her fellow operatives cared, but this was different. This was the touch, the love of her lover and it poured over her like a breeze on a hot summer day—welcome and cooling to the residual fire inside her.

  “He was smart enough not to lose his head when the fighting started. Bastard took two and still wouldn’t run.”

  “I guess that’s the last error in macho judgment he’ll make,” Slate commented.

  “Right on.” Darice gave her a wink. “I’ll see you later, Coe.”

  Chloe refused to let her go. “Come have lunch with me,” she insisted, her voice trembled.

  Darice chuckled and kissed her. “Because you need me to or because you’re afraid I’m going to hunt down his partner?”

  “The second one,” she said in a small voice.

  Darice cupped her face between her hands. “Angel, I’m not going to do anything. That’s why I hired protection for you,” she said softly. “Whoever started this picked the wrong woman to fixate on. But right now, I don’t have time to look for her.”

  “Would you tell me if you did?”

  “No,” she admitted firmly. “But call me if you really want to see me because you want to see me.” She gave Chloe a wink and threw Slate a look before exiting fast. Otherwise, Darice feared she’d find herself staying by Chloe’s side just to assure her she wasn’t going to do anything Chloe didn’t approve of.

  The fact was, she was going to do plenty her woman might not be able to deal with if she knew.

  “She’ll be safe,” Sabrina told her in the parking lot as a cop car sped into the lot.

  “Thanks.” Darice stood next to her, prepared to tell the story that would be just enough to keep the cops off her ass even though she had every right to kill the guy. He’d attacked them and the stand your ground law would protect her.

  On top of that, she did have a permit to carry, but she hadn’t used her own registered gun, and she had a feeling presenting Slate’s wouldn’t be the best idea.

  “Oh, God.” The female officer made a face and turned and gagged.

  “First time seeing a dead body?” Sabrina asked quietly.

  Like her, Sabrina
had had a horrible childhood and had joined Mojo not only for the money, but the sisterhood.

  Every employee of the company of assassins was female with a secret, a past, and pain they’d never been able to forget or outrun.

  “Yes.”

  “Call a bus, Carly. Okay, ladies,” the cute blond male cop said. “Tell us what happened.

  Chapter Nine

  Marie studied the man seated before her desk with a critical eye. Her cousin was a mess. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all last night and his clothes were rumpled. His sudden appearance in her office had surprised her.

  “What is it?” she asked him carefully.

  “I need a favor.”

  “What do you think I could do for your situation, Elton?” she asked with a frown. She knew she couldn’t turn him down no matter what it was. After all, he was family.

  “I need money,” he said coolly.

  “Money?” She had plenty of that, but that wasn’t going to make his problems disappear. “Why? If you let this play out, you’ll be fine.”

  “The chief will be fine, but I won’t,” he snapped. “He’s already making it look like this is all on us.”

  “Elton—”

  “I know you don’t believe a word I said because you like him, but he’s nothing like the man you and everyone knows. He’s a sick, two-faced bastard.”

  “If you say so,” she murmured.

  “He’s got video we didn’t know about, but we should have. He’s a wily son of a bitch. He’ll do anything to save his own skin.” He got up from the chair to pace.

  “Talk,” she suggested. “If you and your partner go to the sheriff and tell him what happened that night—”

  “Are you listening to me?” he snapped. “That girl’s sister was making a big enough stink that things couldn’t just die down, so, he’s feeling the heat.”

  “Elton—”

  “And I found out this morning my partner is dead,” he screamed. “Collier knew we both were thinking about talking. He’s behind this despite the black feathers and bird shit they found at the scene.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He hired someone,” Elton yelled at her. “I’m next.”

  “You don’t seriously think Collier is behind this?” she demanded in annoyance.

  Elton had a knack for getting into trouble, and this time it looked like he’d made a mess even the chief wouldn’t be able to get him out of.

  She didn’t blame him for threatening them. She wouldn’t allow them to ruin her career just for helping them either

  “I need to get out of town,” he said. “I need money.”

  “What about your career?”

  “What career?” he bellowed. “When the chief is done painting us as killers, I’ll have nothing left.”

  She sighed. “Okay, okay. You can take my jet out today.”

  “Thanks,” Elton said. “Can you call and have it ready to go?”

  “Yes, and I’ll transfer the money to your account. Don’t waste time dicking around. You can get out of the country from Texas.”

  “Right. I’ll call you later.”

  She watched him hurry from her office as she leaned back in her chair. Marie hoped this didn’t bite him and her in the ass.

  ****

  “Ace spoke with the client last night, and she said she thought her sister willingly had sex with one guy, but not the chief.”

  Darice shrugged.

  “You were right, too,” Cattail said as she leaned against the side of Darice’s car in the parking lot outside Darice’s photography studio. “The girl was pregnant.”

  “She had a rape kit done?”

  “The very night her sister said she did. The coroner isn’t doing his job, but that’s because he and the police chief are old buddies. We might be able to dig up something on the sheriff to get him to compel the coroner into submission,” Cattail said.

  “No. Find out who else works in that lab and pay ‘em off,” Darice replied. “If the chief’s the father, the client can have a good reason to have the case re-opened.”

  “I’ll get right on that, but I think she wants a final solution.”

  “And I’ll give it to her, but I think we should at least know all the facts,” Darice said.

  Cattail shrugged. “How’s Chloe?”

  “A little shaken considering the idiot tried to kill her this morning.”

  “I hope you got him,” Cattail said coldly.

  “Yep.”

  Cattail gave her a sharp nod. “Out.”

  She strode away, and Darice headed in to her office. She didn’t mind taking the cops out, but she wanted a little extra confirmation that she was getting the right target first.

  ****

  Chloe finally found the will to focus. She had three stories that needed to be finished, and Jasmia reminded her of that as she sat across the room from her. Jasmia had earned her position as chief editor of the investigative division, and Chloe didn’t really envy her one bit.

  Being a boss meant more work, and she had enough on her plate right now. She certainly wouldn’t be able to take off weekends if she was in a supervisory position, and she was looking forward to doing that especially with her wedding coming up.

  Her phone chimed announcing a message, and she picked it up. A smile played across her face.

  I’m thinking about being naked with you. What are you doing?

  She sent the message in response to Darice’s question about whether she was okay. God, she loved Darice so much no matter how scary she was underneath her pretty face.

  Oh, baby, I can just see your perfect little body spread out on the couch waiting for me to take a few shots of you.

  Darice. No.

  I’ll make sure I guard those pictures with my life, but before I start that, I’m going to lick you from head to toe. Then, back up again.

  Chloe moaned involuntarily at the erotic image Darice painted.

  Next, I’m going to eat your pussy until you’re too hot and wet to do anything but beg to come.

  I’m getting hot just reading this, so I better go. Jas is sharing an office with me until this is all over. Ace wants her close enough to tattle on me.

  Ha-ha! That’s what sisters are for.

  You’re right. I’ll see you tonight? I’ll make us dinner. Seven. Don’t be late.

  I won’t, baby love.

  The rap on the office door made Chloe jump guiltily. Before she could say a word, the two detectives from that morning strode in. One of them wore a grim look while the other detective’s expression was decidedly hostile.

  “What’s going on?” Jasmia demanded, glancing up from the proofing copy she was studying.

  “Ladies,” Detective Whitehurst drawled.

  “I already told you all I knew,” Chloe muttered. “What more do you want?”

  “Some new information has come to light,” his partner Detective Ritzcheck said coming to stop in front of her desk.

  “What?” she asked with a frown.

  “You were attacked yesterday, and you had this same issue six months back.”

  “So?” Chloe demanded.

  “So, you’re a violence magnet,” Detective Ritzcheck muttered. “Why didn’t you tell us about yesterday’s attack?”

  “I didn’t connect the dots, considering I didn’t see the man’s face this morning,” she answered. “Besides, I didn’t want to be ridiculed.”

  “Why would we do that?” Detective Whitehurst asked in a deceptively gentle tone. His brown eyes were watchful as if he was expecting to find clues to the truth etched in her face.

  “When I was attacked six months ago the officers treated me like I should be glad a man wanted to rape me since I’m a lesbian. I mean, after all, I was probably delusional and sexually frustrated living a life without a penis in it.”

  A burst of laughter escaped Jasmia, and the two men threw her a look. Whitehurst grunted and Ritzcheck cleared his throat.

&
nbsp; “I didn’t want to go through that again,” Chloe said belligerently. “Besides, two people tried to kill me not rape me.”

  Detective Whitehurst removed his phone from his suit pocket jacket and pulled something up and then held it out to her. “Is this the man who attacked you?”

  She studied the picture. She’d given a description of both her attackers yesterday, so she couldn’t say no even though she wanted to. Saying yes would make them take too close a look at Darice and might even lead to them charging her with murder.

  “It looks like him,” she admitted softly.

  “You know how these nut jobs are,” Jasmia said casually. “The guy could have been hoping to kill as many people as he could.”

  “Only he didn’t bargain for another nut job with the same plans?” Detective Ritzcheck asked in a hard tone. “I don’t think so. I think you know more than you’re letting on, Miss Driver, and you need to start talking.”

  “I got her inside once the shooting started,” Slate said coldly. “So, as I told you this morning, neither of us knows a damn thing. More than likely whoever killed the guy followed him here and had a beef with him.”

  “We don’t believe that,” Detective Ritzcheck retorted. “We went through his car and found a few pictures of you, Miss Driver, this address, your schedule, and what we assume is your home address.” He looked at something and rattled off the number.

  “That’s where I live,” she agreed.

  “There was a black woman in the picture with you,” Detective Whitehurst added.

  “Probably Darice, my fiancée,” she said with a frown. This was starting to sound more and more like someone had planned to kill her, but why?

  “How long have you been engaged?”

  “A few months,” she replied.

  “Do you have any life insurance? Just changed your will?” Detective Ritzcheck asked.

  Chloe frowned. “What?”

  “This woman, how long have you known her?” Detective Whitehurst pressed. “She’s probably after your assets. Even a thousand-dollar policy is worth killing over for a grifter.”

  “Darice isn’t a grifter,” Chloe snapped. “And she certainly wouldn’t kill me over money. She has her own business. She bought the house we moved into.”