Destiny's Wrath (Destiny Series - Book 3) Page 9

  “Ebony and I had a romp a long time ago, way before Maggie and I met. I haven’t touched her in over a year.”

  “Dennis, I believe you. You better make sure Maggie knows about Ebony, because she was pretty open with me. She believes the two of you have an ‘open relationship,’ not that you are no longer partaking.”

  I could see Dennis felt his life was beginning to crumble. I’m sure he was envisioning what would happen next, just as Ebony appeared out of nowhere again. “Lauren, I need to speak to you without these two. Will you help me in the house for a minute?”

  Still reeling from her near attack on Max, I wasn’t about to ask Max to come with me. Acid mixed with my words, “Sure, lead the way.”

  We had just passed the guest house when she held out her hand, “Dakota doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

  “No, how do you know Dakota?”

  “Never you mind how I know her. She got a big heart and she likes you. I was just testing your Max for you. He passed with flying colors.”

  “Throwing yourself at my boyfriend isn’t going to win you any points with me. Where do you get off?”

  “Listen, we haven’t much time. That boy you want to help, he be’ond help. You two watch yourselves. You gonna get Dennis in a heap of trouble if you keep this up. Go home, jus’ like Dakota tell you.”

  “How could we get Dennis in trouble?”

  “I cain’t spell it out for you no clearer. Go home!”

  With that Ebony sauntered away. I returned to Max not sure what had just transpired. I’ve always been able to get a read on people, but she kept me off balance the whole time I interacted with her. She knew Dakota. Could she be on the Cabinet, too?

  Chapter 14

  Bert Ross - Detective

  Bert looked in the mirror. He looked okay, but something wasn’t right. He hadn’t been right since he arrested Jimmy Jacobs. He was blacking out, losing long passages of the day. Going to a doctor and telling him the truth could get him an immediate suspension from the force. He couldn’t tell anyone, yet he needed to know what was wrong with him. Maybe if he went to see a doctor under a different name, so no record would be kept, no insurance filed, he could find out what was wrong.

  Bert picked up the phone book and started scrolling through doctors closer to Charleston, somewhere he wouldn’t be recognized and could legitimately go in under the radar. Just as he located one he thought looked promising, his hand shut the phone book. Bert’s eyes went wide: now he was blacking out and losing control of his motor functions.

  A voice speaking to him in his mind said, “Bert, a doctor cannot cure you. How do you feel about immortality?”

  Bert’s eyes were wide with shock. He looked in all directions to see if maybe someone had come into the house, and he had missed it. He was alone, completely and utterly alone. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten home from work this afternoon; he didn’t remember arresting Jimmy Jacobs: his body seemed to have a mind of its own, and now he was hearing voices.

  That same voice echoed, “Bert, you are not mentally ill. You are hosting me because I hate being in a cage, even though Jimmy was a very hospitable host. If you and I can come to some sort of an agreement, I believe I can make it worth your while. If you fight me, I will not only destroy your career, I will ruin your life and then end it. Do you follow me?”

  Bert was still staring in the mirror, his hands shaking, his mouth gaping open. Bert was in his early forties, too young for retirement. Looking at his face, he saw the years staring back at him: the alcohol and long hours had taken their toll. He had been a handsome man in his youth, which had been full of poor choices, two ex-wives, and three kids that he neither spent much time with nor could relate to very well. He thought to himself: this is it, this is how it ends.

  “You aren’t going to die, at least not in the next few days. How would you like to be rich, rich beyond your wildest dreams? I can make women fall at your feet, but I need your help. I rather enjoy being a law enforcement officer, especially a detective. Hand over your body to me for a period of time and when I give it back, you will be wealthy and have the life you’ve always dreamed of.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “My name is Samael. I spent some time with our friend Jimmy. Unfortunately, he was headstrong and didn’t listen to me as he should have. On the other hand, I believe we could become fast friends.”

  “Friends? You are my imagination.”

  “Hardly. I am an ancient creature. I feel a kinship to you. This is why I ask your permission and offer you the world. I can take control of your body and do what I wish, but it is so much easier on both of us if you just work with me. Will you work with me, Bert?”

  “You aren’t my imagination?”

  “Could your imagination do this?” Bert lost all control of his body: he felt his legs walking to the door, his hand turning the handle, his feet stepping out on the porch. A beautiful woman was walking toward his house on the sidewalk. Bert could see the scene playing out but could do nothing to control what was going on. He heard his voice call out to the lady, “Hello, Miss? Do you have a minute?”

  The lady stopped in front of his gate. She glanced at her watch, looking as though she had somewhere more important to be. “Bert, I haven’t seen you around lately. The criminals must be keeping you busy these days.”

  “I’m afraid so. There is something I need a woman’s opinion on. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure, but I don’t have the best taste if you need me to look at drapes.” She loped up to the porch while Bert’s body held the door open for her. She stepped into the little Cape Cod style house. Bert felt his hand close the door behind them. The young lady was one of Bert’s neighbors, Cynthia. She was, to put it bluntly, hot. Bert regularly saw her walking, biking or jogging around the neighborhood in tight pants and half shirts. He had noticed her lots of times but had never had the courage for anything more than a “hello” or a friendly wave. Bert was surprised that Cynthia was right here, in his entryway.

  Bert stood mere inches away: Cynthia was absolutely breathtaking. Aside from her tight abs and hard frame, it looked like she might have had some work done; her breasts looked enormous. He caught himself looking at her lips, which were full and pouty. Bert wanted to touch them. Her long red hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, and her face was absolutely perfect. Ice blue eyes stared at him when she asked, “So, what was it you needed my opinion on?”

  She stood just a few feet inside the front door. Bert’s body took a step toward her, he felt his pulse racing. His hand reached for the elastic band holding her hair. His hand withdrew it from her long mane and stuffed the band in his pocket. He began stroking her hair and leaned into Cynthia’s body, gazing into her sky blue eyes. “Before I get your opinion, I must say your breasts are exquisite. They are truly a work of art. Are they nature’s bounty or man-made?” Bert’s free hand went to Cynthia’s breast and cupped it through her lycra half-tank top. “My dear, your surgeon is a genius.”

  A look of surprise spread across her face, but she did nothing to stop his advances. “You are a sexy little vixen, aren’t you?” Bert felt his mouth move the few inches to Cynthia’s. Her lips were moist and her breath hot; her breathing quickly became erratic. Bert’s hand kneaded her breast as his lips pressed harder and his tongue found hers. His grip got stronger. Bert was sure he was hurting her but he was not in control and could do nothing to stop it. Cynthia let out a high pitched yelp followed by a long, low moan before his hand finally released.

  Bert’s body remained rigid, and he felt his body’s weight thrust against her. She stumbled back a few steps into the wall. Bert couldn’t believe the energy coursing though him, as if his body was acting of its own accord. He had no control. The sensations were steamy - he wanted her. The initial shock wore off for Cynthia. She, too, was more aroused than he could have expected. She grinded herself into Bert and moaned quietly into his chest.

  “Would you like
to take this elsewhere?” Bert heard his voice ask. His hands were on her hips, again squeezing, moving up and down. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Bert would never have had the courage to do this.

  Cynthia moaned and breathlessly urged, “Bert, I want you. Tell me you want me, too.”

  For the first time, they were Bert’s words, he spoke them, “Cynthia, I can’t take it anymore.” Bert was in full control of his body again. Her clothes were gone in a flash and the two never left the entryway. He was so aroused that he was unable to savor their time together.

  When it was over, Bert was at a loss for words, “Cynthia, I, ah, wow . . . I hope that was okay?”

  Almost dismissively, Cynthia answered, “You’re out of practice.” She was dressing quickly and didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised to have had an afternoon romp with a neighbor she hardly knew. She also didn’t feel the need to stroke his ego and tell him it was the best five minutes she’d had all day. Once they were both dressed, Bert felt awkward, unable to form a sentence in his mind.

  He’d always looked at Cynthia as if she were out of his league. Bert could feel himself losing control of his body again, moving back into the observer role. He felt his hand begin stroking her hair again. As his fingers ran through her hair, he couldn’t help but notice the softness, the silky feel of it. Then Bert felt his hand stiffen as it grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck. Bert’s mouth found her jugular and began caressing it with his tongue. After a full minute, he could feel her heart racing as his hand slacked and his mouth went to her ear. The words weren’t his, “Out of practice, yes, but I’m certain you’ll be willing to work with me on that again very soon, won’t you, my dear.” Bert’s hand released her and she stumbled a little.

  Her eyes were wide at first, then relaxed as she moved to him and pressed her body to his. In a confident, sultry voice, “I could be back in an hour, if you’re up for it?”

  Again, Bert wasn’t in control of his body, nor his voice, as he heard his response, “I’ll give you an hour and a half. Wear something sexy for me, won’t you?” His body leaned over the cute little package and kissed her forehead, then whispered in her ear, “Cancel any plans you may have this evening, I think you’ll not be up for any other activities when I’m done with you.” Bert’s hand playfully slapped her rear and reached for the door to dismiss her.

  Cynthia stepped off the porch and began jogging back the way she had come. Bert closed the door, shocked at what had just transpired. Looking back in the mirror, he asked himself what had just happened.

  “You got laid, you moron,” was the response in his mind.

  Bert knew he was hearing a voice in his head. He knew he had lost control of his body and speech. Given the last fifteen minutes, he didn’t much care. Bert spoke aloud, “How did you do that?”

  “I didn’t do it, well, not all of it. Some of it was you. You need confidence. That little lady is just the beginning. Let me use your body for my purposes, and I’ll ensure you have a steady stream of ‘friends’ just like Cynthia.”

  “So, I’m not crazy. You’re really in my head?”

  “I hate this part. No matter who my host is, we always go through the same round of questions. Yes, I’m really in your head. My name is Samael. Yes, I can take control of your body, but if I take it from you by force, it exhausts me. I’d much rather you permit me to use your body. I’ll make sure you’re conscious for all the things I believe you will enjoy.”

  “Like Cynthia?”

  “Yes, like Cynthia. If you get to the point that you do not need my assistance, I’ll bow out entirely from your little frolics. But let’s face it, she was correct. You are out of practice.”

  “Even when you were in control, I could still feel everything. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. It is, after all, your body. I will rarely make you do anything you do not wish to do, but I can force your body to do something you were too ignorant to do. I can show you how to make Cynthia putty in your hand, how to make her beg for more, how to make her orgasm in seconds.”

  “So, what’s the downside?”

  “Eventually, I’ll leave you. When I do, you will be wealthy, you’ll have more women than you know what to do with. We may even remain friends.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a downside?”

  “As long as you share with no one that I have taken up residence with you, there isn’t a downside. There are people who wish me harm. If anyone finds out that I am in you, it could mean your death.”

  “Death?”

  “If you keep your mouth shut, you’ll be perfectly safe. When I’m done, you’ll be living the life you’ve always wanted.”

  “So, I let you use my body, you make me rich and I get to see Cynthia again? The only stipulation is that I not tell anyone that I hear voices in my head?”

  “Correct.”

  “Well then, I guess I’d better keep my mouth shut. Samael, you have my permission to use my body.”

  “Fabulous. Let’s go prepare your bedroom for Cynthia. It always clears my head after I can listen to screams for a while. I have some plans later tonight that will require all my focus.”

  “Screams? You aren’t going to hurt her, are you?”

  “Hmmm, pain, just like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Don’t worry. You’re a respected police detective. No woman in her right mind would ever report you as a sexual deviant.”

  “But, I’m more of a missionary man, not a deviant.”

  “Don’t worry. After our encounter this evening, you might be surprised by what you are or aren’t.”

  ****

  Several hours later, Bert was looking at his face in the mirror again. He stood in his bathroom and glanced back into his bedroom. Cynthia had fallen asleep. They had been in the throes of passion for over an hour, and it looked as though she had finally given way to exhaustion. He had never had that kind of stamina, ever. Bert hadn’t been in the driver’s seat; he was in observer mode nearly the entire time.

  He quietly asked, “You didn’t hurt her, right?”

  “No, she was far more adventuresome than I expected for a suburban professional. You’ll not want to keep a date with her by yourself, at least until you’ve had a chance to pick up some new moves. We’ll continue to work as a team.”

  “I could get used to this.”

  “You remember our agreement? I’ve kept up my end of the bargain; I’ll need you to give me your body for a few hours.”

  “What’re you going to do now?”

  “Do you really want to know? I will tell you, but I believe you may prefer to be kept in the dark on this one. It is for my enjoyment this time, not yours.”

  “Uh, okay. Where do I go?”

  “Just slip into the darkness. I’ll summon you when I’m done.”

  Just like that, Bert was gone. Samael was pleased with his obedience, a welcomed change from the headstrong teenager he’d been co-habitating with these last months. Samael looked at this body in the mirror and spoke aloud to himself, “Not bad. A little too tightly wound, but he has a nice physique.” Samael extended his fingers then wound them tightly into a fist, flexing the muscles on his arms and examining Bert’s body more closely, when a voice called from the bed, “That was incredible. I feel like cooked pasta.”

  Samael smiled to himself, then slowly responded, “I feel as though I might not have given my best effort earlier.” He began sauntering back to the bed where Cynthia was propped up on a pillow, “How would you like to give me another shot?”

  “Bert, I’m spent. I think I’ll need to pass this time. How about tomorrow?”

  Samael shook his head, “Oh, my dear, I insist. I intend to ruin you for all other men. You’ll be my Little Pet.”

  She half-heartedly laughed, “Stick a fork in me, Sweetie, I’m done.”

  “Hmm, an interesting idea, but, My Pet, I can assure you - you are far from done. I merely permitted you a res
t. I knew you would need your strength.” Samael scooped up her hand in his and brought her wrist to his lips. “A little advice to you: I love screams – loud and long. I like to know that I am the reason for them. Nothing will satisfy me more than hearing your fear wrapped in your shrieks. Give me what I want, and I’ll leave you in a state where you won’t walk tomorrow. You won’t deny me my little thrill, will you, My Pet?”

  Samael could see the fear on Cynthia’s face. He smiled wickedly back at her, “That’s it, My Pet. I feel your fear. Show me how scared you are.”

  ****

  Samael looked at Cynthia’s body lying limp under him. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he killed her, but he did know better. Shallow as it was, she was breathing. Samael examined the marks he left on her, a very nice collection, reminders for her. She would not be able to block out what he had done to her. She proved to have an extremely high threshold for pain; he looked forward to their next encounter. Samael rifled through a drawer and found a pen and a small piece of paper.

  My Pet,

  Sorry to leave you, but duty calls. I’ll expect to see you here again tomorrow night, 7 p.m. Do not be tardy. Wear something sexy.

  Master

  Samael sneered to himself as he put the note in her hand. After everything he had subjected her to, she would be back. He had given her a taste of how sadistic he could be; her pleading for him to stop still echoed in his mind. She wouldn’t want to displease him.

  Samael knew Bert would be pleased to see her again, too. Bert would be oblivious to this second encounter. Samael knew he would have to develop Bert’s taste for this or convince him to leave again. He would see what kind of shape Cynthia was in tomorrow at seven.