Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 Read online

  “Did you just come, Brandilynn?’

  “No, Sir. Please, Sir, I really need to,” I sobbed.

  “Keep that pussy working those fingers, girl. Harder. Faster.”

  I gasped and rocked even as he drove into me, rubbing my mound again. I was in a delicious hell. God, I needed to come.

  “Please, please, Sir. Please.”

  He slapped my clit again, and once more I nearly lost it. I pressed my forehead against the hard wood of the table and begged myself, hold on, hold on, hold on. My hips continued to drum backward onto the battering ram of his cruel fingers.

  “Whose body is this, baby girl?”

  “Yours, Sir. Please?”

  Another sharp slap to the distended nub. My clit had decided these little darts of pain were the world’s greatest aphrodisiac. I felt it strain for the next blow, desperate to undermine my efforts to please my master.

  “Who decides when you should come, Brandilynn?”

  “You, Sir,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  Slap. My pussy flexed in response. His calloused hand went back to rubbing circles against my mound. I hung on grimly.

  “Please, Sir. Please, I’ll do whatever you want—”

  Slap. Circle. Fingers plunging in and out faster still. “You’ll do whatever I want whether I allow you to come or not.”

  Heaven help me, I was sweating in my aroused misery. I couldn’t think about that. I could sense the yawning abyss beneath me, ready to engulf me the second I gave the slightest bit.

  Slap. Circle. Plunging. “Say my master commands me.”

  “Oh, Sir. My master commands me. Please.”

  Slap. Circle, Plunging. “Say it again.”

  “My master commands me! Please, I’m begging you, Sir!”

  Slap. Circle. Plunging. “Say it again.”

  “MY MASTER COMMANDS ME!”

  The torturing hands and fingers disappeared. “On your back, baby girl.”

  I collapsed and flailed over to obey him, my lower parts burning and aching in desperation. Dan grabbed my calves and hauled me towards him so my butt lay on the edge of the table. Without so much as a how-do-you-do he stabbed his cock into me, shouting, “Come now!”

  I shrieked fit to split the heavens as his brutal plunge tore a hole in the wall between control and surrender. My legs kicked wildly in the air and I tore at his shirt as the too-long dammed exultation poured free of me. He beat hard against me, widening the breach until all barriers were destroyed, and I drowned in the deluge of bliss.

  I couldn’t tell you when Dan joined me with his own climax. I was too far gone. All I know is that when I returned, he was bent over me, his torso heavy on mine, his cock still twitching within the confines of my body.

  As we lay there, quietly picking up the shreds of sanity and tying them back together, I once more felt despair that I had wronged this wondrous man who took me to the glorious jagged edge of self control. And then I had a startling epiphany.

  Had I cheated not just to save Bane, but also because I was so afraid of commitment, even to two men?

  I hated being so screwed up that I hurt everyone around me.

  Chapter 7

  Dan and I threw our assignments to the wind that night. We concentrated on each other, snuggling, making love, and reconnecting as best we could. My infidelity was still a barrier between us, one that I realized only time would erode. If I cried one tear that night, I cried an ocean. So did Dan.

  We knew day had come when Tristan’s voice roused us from our mutual loving misery. “I’m glad to see you two have made up,” he said, sounding quite the opposite.

  With one last kiss, we rose and draped clothes on our bodies. Dan was in his usual pressed khakis and button-down white shirt. Instead of my typical fun, flirty style of dress, I chose a dark gray linen suit. I was in a somber frame of mind.

  Looking at Dan with sadness, I answered, “I guess we sort of have.”

  He nodded, taking my hand with a gentle smile. I wondered at his need to comfort me when I’d been the one who dealt the pain. God love that man; he really is too good for me.

  Tristan watched us both, obviously feeling his third wheel status. He’s not used to playing second fiddle to anyone and I’d hurt him too. Still, I felt worse for Dan. He didn’t have blood groupies he played with nightly. He’d always been true blue, so I owed him bigger than Tristan. My second sweetie would just have to mope.

  Seeing he was destined to remain the outsider for now, Tristan put his professional face on. “Anything new to report?” he asked.

  Dan and I shook our heads. I said, “I should get back to the club. I really need to figure out a way to spy on Hazel without him seeing me.”

  Dan’s hand tightened on mine. “Too dangerous. I’ve done some checking into his criminal past, and the guy is bad news, a sociopath. No one can pin anything on him because he’s that good a witch. He’d make you a wraith before you could say ‘boo’.”

  I thought hard. “I could take over Fizz full time until this is all taken care of.”

  Tristan and Dan chorused an emphatic, “No.”

  Mr. County Commissioner added, “No more compromising situations with that agent, Brandilynn. I want Bane off your radar entirely.”

  I huffed. “I won’t get into anymore trouble with him. I have absolutely no intentions of getting myself into that situation again. But if I’m in Fizz, I can keep an eye on things without Hazel knowing I’m anywhere around.”

  Dan scowled. “Absolutely not. Fizz isn’t in the inner circle of things anyway. At least as a ghost you can follow C.K. around.”

  Tristan nodded. “He’s right. Unless you need a quick word with Bane, stay out of her. I mean it, Brandilynn.” He actually shook a finger at me. Can you believe it?

  I had to laugh at him. “Or what? You’ll ground me and take my cell phone away, Dad?”

  Both my boyfriends glowered at me. Jeez, talk about your short leashes, and in my case it was doubled. They had nerve, these two. But Tristan’s almost black eyes were flinty, and I knew he was on the verge of pulling me off the case. Dan would almost assuredly back him up on that score.

  I scowled, put out with both of them. “Fine. But you both better remember that outside of sex, I’m not a woman you order around.”

  With that, I took my leave of them, heading for the friendlier atmosphere of the Beasts club. I knew they were very unhappy with me still, and yeah, I’d screwed up our relationships big time. But those boys needed to realize we weren’t going to be able to fix things if they kept shoving my face in guilt.

  There was a whole lot of nothing going on at the club. It was daytime, so the majority of the Beasts were working whatever day jobs they held down. The half dozen enforcers who were there weren’t talking about anything of interest to Bane’s case, and the major players themselves; C.K., Hazel, and Bane, weren’t around. Of course the female ‘property’ knew nothing. They drifted around cleaning the club and kneeling between the gang members’ legs to serve up pleasure when ordered. The creeps didn’t even thank the women for the attention. Then again, the women didn’t seem to believe they deserved gratitude. What a messed up way to be.

  When listening in on the enforcers’ conversations turned up nothing of interest, I headed for C.K.’s office. The room had little going for it: a desk with a chair behind it and two more in front of it. An opened, empty safe. Some motorcycle parts on built-in shelves. The computer on Pig Boy’s desk was running, and I drew from it, getting a heady rush. I used the energy to poke around in the files, reflecting that Dan had probably done this already. C.K. was too smart to keep important files in a computer cops could confiscate, so of course I found nothing of interest.

  Feeling like a half-baked version of Nancy Drew, I gave up, trying not to feel too disappointed. I hadn’t expected to find anything anyway.

  I wandered back into the main club room, wondering if I had to waste a whole boring day watching shifters play pool and women clea
n. Still in less than a sweetheart mood following my discussion with Dan and Tristan, I had an urge to play poltergeist with the pool game going on. I scowled at the enforcers talking football and generally being worthless to my needs.

  The door to the outside swung open, and a lanky, mussed hair silhouette walked in. Oh shoot. It was Hazel.

  I stood frozen for an instant before diving behind the pool table, praying he hadn’t seen me standing big and bold as life across the room. Hails greeted him all around me, and he answered with a marked lack of enthusiasm. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been seen.

  A female called, “You want something to drink, Hazel?”

  “No. Going back to C.K.’s office to check on something.”

  He was coming closer, and I scrambled as quietly as possible around the far side of the table to keep from being detected. Then I mentally smacked myself upside the head. What was I doing skulking around when I could just dematerialize the heck out of here? I was rattled by the near discovery for sure.

  Well, if Hazel was here, it meant he wasn’t at his strip club. That would be a good place to go and still do my job. Maybe there was something on his computer I could find. Hadn’t Bane mentioned wanting to break into his files? I was pretty sure he did.

  Feeling useful again, I zapped myself over to Exotica Erotica.

  I remembered the alley behind the strip club best, so that’s where I took myself. From there, I walked through the back door into the hall. Walking through stuff is not as cool as it sounds. While not painful, it feels weird. The sensation of stuff passing … well, more like dragging … through your body isn’t pleasant at all. I usually avoid doing that, as do many ghosts. Even passing through ghost doors, like at the library and the King George, is uncomfortable.

  On my way to Hazel’s office, I passed the dancers’ dressing room. The room was pretty dark except for the large mirror’s lights, which surrounded the reflective surface. Fizz sat there, staring at her image. Stale cigarette and pot smoke coated the air, along with cheap perfume and sweat. Not exactly the sweetest olfactory potpourri.

  I paused, having a good look around. Two battered couches sat along the wall opposite the dressing table, upon which makeup, deodorants, and hair care products scattered its surface. Lockers, one half-opened to display a purse and hung up clothing, were on the far wall.

  It was a pretty depressing place. I was ready to move along when Fizz’s intent whisper overrode the bass thump of the lounge area’s music.

  “I know you’re in there, bitch. You better come out and talk to me or I’m gonna tell C.K. about Bane being a cop named Levi.”

  I froze as terror iced my guts. Darn it, Fizz remembered. This was bad.

  I approached her carefully, as if she might sense my presence. I looked at her reflection, which the glaring lights framing the mirror weren’t kind to. Her face was drawn and lined, taking her from the mid-thirties range I’d originally guessed her age to be to at least ten years older. Of course, the hard life she’d led might have aged her prematurely. The dark circles under her eyes weren’t helping either, and I wondered if she’d been losing sleep.

  As I watched and worried, Fizz broke down and cried. “You’re going to get me killed, you stupid demon cunt. You and that fucking cop. But I’m gonna tell, you hear me? I’m gonna tell and – oh shit, I’m so screwed.”

  She covered her face with her hands, hiccupping terrified tears. Boy, I’d sure put her in a spot. She knew who Bane really was, and I had to assume she knew what he knew … that C.K. and Hazel were behind the tainted blood and the plot to spread the Zoo

  Flu to the mundane human population. She had to realize they’d kill her if they discovered she had that information. But then, Fizz had a misplaced loyalty to the Beasts and wasn’t the brightest star in the sky.

  Before I could properly order my thoughts, Fizz came to a decision. A really bad decision. She stood up and headed for the lockers, going to the half-opened one to pull a cell phone from her purse.

  “I’m telling them Bane’s a cop, you bitch. That’ll keep me in the good with C.K. He’ll probably reward me for turning your boyfriend in.”

  “No he won’t. He’ll torture you to find out what else you know, you stupid girl. Think!” I yelled.

  But Fizz, dim bulb that she was, was determined in her shortsightedness. She punched a button and put the phone to her ear. No doubt she had the Beasts Motorcycle Club on speed dial.

  I had no more time to think. I had to act fast.

  I shoved my way into her body, and this time she fought me the moment she realized what was happening. We battled for control over her, desperation giving us both strength. The first moment I had the upper hand I flipped closed the still ringing cell phone, cutting off the call. Then she snatched control back, and I was fighting for dominance once more.

  If I hadn’t possessed her before, she probably would have tossed me out in the end. But I had familiarity with her now, and thanks to Isabella’s channeling me several times I knew what I was doing when it came to using other bodies.

  I’d thought of my previous possessions of Fizz as similar to rape. This violent takeover, although mental, truly was a rape as far as I was concerned. What else could I do? There had been no time to gather energy and play poltergeist. I had to be mean and evil as all get out.

  I finally staved Fizz off, feeling her shrink to a back corner of our shared mind, hissing and spitting like a cornered cat. I knew I’d have to be wary of her taking over again.

  Victorious, at least for the moment, I came back to my surroundings. That’s when I noticed the other dancer in the doorway, staring at me.

  Uh oh. I had no idea how the pitched battle inside Fizz’s body had played on the outside. From the round-eyed gape of the tall, skinny topless brunette, something had obviously happened.

  The other woman, her voice a smoker’s hoarse grind, asked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I faked a shiver and clutched my arms around my body. “I’m feeling sick.” At the other woman’s continued stare, I added, “Really sick.”

  Still uncertain, the other woman edged into the room. She sat down at the mirrored dressing table, watching me like I was rabid. “Good thing your shift is over. That’s what pulling a double will do to you.”

  I was relieved to know Fizz was done with work for the day. I’d taken a few ballroom dancing lessons for use in my work as an escort, but I had a feeling Exotica Erotica’s patrons wouldn’t be enticed by a demonstration of the foxtrot.

  I forced another dramatic shiver for the brunette. “I gotta get outta here. Hope I’m not catching.” I pulled Fizz’s purse from the locker and shoved the door shut. I started to stagger for the door in her too-high heels.

  “Is that your cell?” The other dancer pointed to the phone on the floor. “Damn Fizz, do you think you can drive like that?”

  I knelt unsteadily to scoop the phone up and deposited it into the purse. “I’ll be okay.”

  I tottered out of the dressing room under the stare of the skinny stripper, grateful I had the excuse of being ill. There was no parking behind the club, but I decided it would be best to exit the building that way, avoiding contact with others until I had a better handle on what I was going to do.

  There was a side parking lot marked ‘Employees Only’, and I blew out a sigh of relief to know I wouldn’t have to navigate in Fizz’s crazy stilettos all the way out to the front. I dug into Fizz’s purse for her keys, noting the thick pile of money in her open wallet. Mostly ones from tips, I guessed. In a sudden flash of curiosity, I pulled out her driver’s license and read her real name.

  “Hello, Annie Caruthers,” I whispered. “It’s about time you and I were properly introduced.”

  I sensed a snarl and sighed. Putting the license away, I pulled a set of jangling keys from the purse. The car key had one of those buttons for the door lock, and I pressed it. Out of the dozen or so cars in the employee lot, a cute red Nissan chirped and flashed its headlig
hts at me. It was the same one I’d seen at Bane’s trailer the day before.

  “Stripping pays okay,” I noted, appreciating the sporty little car. I climbed into the black and gray interior, feeling a tinge of pride from my hijacked victim. “You know, we’re not so different, Fizz. I used to escort for a living.”

  We were miles apart really, but I didn’t want her to think I looked down on her for her profession. My peace offering was firmly ignored as best as I could tell. Well, I would be pretty ticked off too if someone else took over my body. I couldn’t fault her for that.