pain there whereas the other end was the complete opposite. It felt
like her hair was falling out and someone had scalped her.
Toes worked, a bit cramped like she'd fallen asleep in her shoes but
there was definite movement. Same with her ankles, they moved
unwillingly but there was enough friction to make her wonder if her
stockings were still on. Weird, she never slept with her clothes on.
"Constantine, she's waking up."
Was that a voice outside or inside her head? It was so hard to tell.
She didn't know a Constantine so maybe she was still asleep and
dreaming what, that she was in a black vortex with a voice drifting
around her?
"I'll take it from here. Leave us."
Different voice, but there was something familiar about it, or
something she hoped would become familiar. Parts of her body
moved on their own with no prompting from that voice alone, and
20
there was no doubt where her thighs met now. The voice had added a
layer of warmth to her body which had been previously missing and
made her muscles tingle into wakefulness.
Each twitch of her muscles got her brain to start processing back
data and fill her in to the present moment. There had been an eviction
then a car with a really hot driver. She'd told the driver to take her to
the hotel, but after that the data broke down. Oh, wait she'd drunk
champagne then it all went black as if someone had wiped her hard
drive of pertinent information so she couldn't go through with her
plans.
But that didn't explain why her head was under so much pain and
her neck ached, or why she was beginning to feel trapped in the
blackness that previously had been so pleasant.
"Come on, Helena, open your eyes. You might as well get it over
with."
That voice saying her name drove pin pricks up and down her body.
Part of her wanted to flay him alive and the other wanted to take him
for all the pleasure she could squeeze out of his cock. Okay clearly
there was some information that was being kept from her conscious
mind. Only one way to solve the myriad of desires rushing to take
over her body, and that was to open her eyes and then determine
whether she was getting laid or going up on murder charges.
Helena labored until her eyes flicked open. Reality was a disaster,
too many discordant inputs overloading her system; she felt dizzy and
nauseous.
"I'd sit up if you're going to throw up. I'd hate to see you ruin your
white blouse, but then I would get to clean you up, all the way down
to your skin. So go for it if you want."
Helena forced her eyes to work together to focus on the source of
the voice. What the ... chauffeur's face but the clothes were all
different? Instead of the black suit and bow tie his legs were leather
clad and his shoulders and pecs kept the sleeveless red shirt from
slipping as he moved. The fewest buttons necessary to keep the shirt
on were cinched, leaving his hair-dusted chest to show flecks of gold
in the candlelight.
21
"Glad you could join us, no fun if you sleep through it."
His words got under her skin, making the hair on the back of her
neck try to stand up straight, but then she was reminded of where all
her pain radiated from, her damn hair. She tried to sit up, but her head
felt like it was spinning.
"You might discover a slight impediment to moving, though you
can get around the room to a limited degree." He laughed stoically.
She didn't care if he had a voice of liquid velvet that tickled her ears
with sensuous vibrations; he was really beginning to annoy her. Why
did he sound so smug, and when the hell had he changed and this
wasn't a hotel room was it? Her mind bubbled with questions bursting
into each other. Focus, she needed to move or her neck was going to
fall off.
Trying to roll onto her hands and knees spiked the pain to
overwhelming. Her eyes watered and a scream lifted off her tongue
and escaped before she realized it was her making the sound.
"It's not that bad is it?" He stood and moved into her comfort zone.
Helena tried to sit back on her heels to face him, but she fell over,
her head ratcheting back and then snapping up, pain washing down
her spine and transforming her flesh into goose bumps.
"Perhaps you'd like to assess your situation before making any
more moves. Isn't that what you do in the boardroom before taking
over another company to feed off more money reserves?" He bent
down and cupped her chin, pushing her head back so her eyes were
forced to look at the ceiling.
Her lashes spasmed, trying to get the image to change, but it didn't.
She hung from the ceiling by a rope tied around her hair? Please be a
dream, please. Her throat clenched and the sensation of passing out
warmed over her. A harsh slap rocked her head sideways with a palm
impacting her cheek.
"Oh no you don't. You aren't getting an easy out from this. Don't
make me throw ice water over you followed by near boiling liquid.
Trust me you won't like the experience." He slapped her again on the
other cheek with the back of his knuckles, making her head swing
back and forth like a pendulum.
22
She tried to get words out but they came out a gargled stream of
incoherent sounds, all synonyms for the sound of fear.
"I can see you are beginning to comprehend your situation." He
grabbed the front of her throat and squeezed his fingers around her
jugular.
"Stop, you're choking me," she squealed.
"Not in the slightest. If I was choking you, you wouldn't be able to
speak." He let go, but not before leaving a trail of indentations where
his sharp nails had been. He bit at his nails. "You taste good, but I
bet other parts of you taste even better and moister.
Helena scrambled to her feet, twisting her body shut with arms and
legs clamped over her front to keep more distance between him and
her.
"Oh, you are clueless, aren't you? He reached over and drew his
nails down her cheek and snagged the top of her blouse, pulling her
towards him.
She refused to open her arms or legs so she fell into him, her
forehead pressed against his neck. Expecting to feel his pulse
clamoring like hers, she twisted her head so her ear was against his
throat. Nothing, did that mean toying with her was little more than a
game he cared little about? What did that mean for her situation, her
chances?
He pushed her away, making her falter and do a tap dance to stop
herself from twisting from the ceiling by only her hair. "I'd stop
trying to think you're way out of this. You don't have anywhere close
to enough facts to determine your situation or what's at stake, kind of
like the employees who come to work and find they have a new boss.
Consider yourself working for me now. Do you like being on the
other end or do you miss being in utter control with all the power?"
Helena spread her legs unwillingly to keep tension off h
er head and
stood up straight. "What do you want from me? Is this a vendetta
because of some business I took over? Whatever they are paying you I
can double."
"Really, I'd expected more than bad TV lines from you. You're
supposed to be smart and this is what you say? Come on." He bent his
23
head and looked at her dismissively. "Don't tell me I'm wrong about
you. I want to think there is something going on in that head of yours,
or you are of no use to me."
Helena realized she was sweating. Think, think dammit. She was
alive and he could have killed her by now. Her body told her nothing
had been forced into her pussy so he hadn't raped her despite the
opportunity.
He was trying to scare her for sure, but why and for whom? It had
to be about tomorrow's take over. What else was occurring right now
at Palmer to warrant this? She had received threats over Clark the
other day.
He clearly needed something from her or she wouldn't be here. The
question was would he kill her after he got what he wanted? Chances
didn't favor anyone finding her in this hell hole. Certainly he'd turned
her phone off so no one could track her.
"Now that's better. I hear your brain kicking into gear, quite noisy
in that head of yours. Can't make out the precise details, but you are
wondering I'm sure what your future holds. I would if I was you, and
I suspect we are quite similar in mindset." He circled her, making her
head bob around to keep him in sight. He stopped behind her, his
chest making her head go forward, his thighs and stomach pressing
into her back.
She'd expected him to warm her up, not that she wanted any more
heat, but the coolness confused her as if he was drawing her warmth
out of her body, and she began to shiver.
"Constantine."
A new male voice crackled past the blood pounding in her ears and
made her jump, her neck spasming as it fought to keep both men in
view. The impossibility made her neck seize up, trying to rotate in
two directions at once. She whimpered, and attempted to walk
sideways to keep them both in sight.
Pain twisted from the crown of her head down the back of her scalp
to meet up with the agony in her neck. Through watery eyes she
captured the two men staring at each other. It was clear the man
addressed as Constantine was in charge, the new comer's body
24
language screamed secretary, not the kind she kept but one
nonetheless, a deadly one.
Constantine ground his teeth into each other. "What?" He walked
towards the man by circling as close to Helena as their clothes
allowed then veered to the doorway and walked past the new guy who
followed on his heels.
Helena strained her ears.
25
CHAPTER THREE
"What?" Constantine stalked past Jason then reared around, testing
him. Just as he thought, Jason had previously stopped so he wasn't
bowled over. They were going to have a long, arduous conversation
once the Helena situation was under hand.
"Call came in. Council has pushed up the meeting by a week and a
half. It's in three days at the Mithraeum." Jason winced a second
before Constantine's hand whizzed past his face and indented the
cement wall nearest them.
"One of the contenders got to them." Constantine jump kicked the
spot his hand had hit to get more of the wall to disintegrate onto the
floor. "Fuck. We have no choice but to go past the niceties and rush
job this. I'm going to win this, Jason, there is no other option I'm
accepting as outcome."
Jason braced himself with arms folded behind his back and feet a
foot apart. "I thought that is what you would want."
Constantine's resolve to take care of one thing at a time broke. "Of
course you did. And is that because you have the spark, the telepathic
ability that labels you alpha capable?
Constantine took one large stride to be in Jason's face, his fingers
interlocking behind Jason's head, two long thumb nails curling around
to be a centimeter away from the dry eye ducts. "Answer me. I want
to know if you are a liar or not." Constantine dug into the tear ducts,
contacting blood. He pulled out one nail and bit the tip of his finger
then merged their blood together, reading Jason without mental blocks
capable of censoring. "Talk."
"I suspect I have the spark, Sir." Jason remained motionless, his
eyes firmly staring through Constantine, lids not daring to twitch.
Constantine pierced in further. "Will this be a problem? I need a
right-hand man, not someone playing his own game with stakes aimed
at my heart."
Only Jason's lips moved. "You have my allegiance, Sir."
Constantine extracted his nails and wiped the blood off on Jason's
hair. "Get over the rush I just gave you and take one of the grunts
26
with you, tell the other one to come in here. It's time for someone else
to get a blood rush."
Jason backed away slowly without sound. "How long do you need
us gone? Hour?"
Constantine waved Jason past him without the need of answering.
His cell phone rang.
"Where are you? You should have been here hours ago."
Constantine rubbed his eyes. Joe Smith needed a good lashing.
detour. We are monitoring police frequencies and will be there as
soon as the coast is clear." Constantine ended the call without niceties
and turned his phone off. Joe Smith was on his own now to take the
blame and figure his way out of his own mess. Constantine hoped the
ransom letter had already been sent; that would keep the family and
police busy.
* * * *
Helena's legs wanted to sag onto the cushions but she refused to put
more pressure on her head or lose awareness of when his stealth
presence re-entered the room; she trusted him to be as silent and
deadly as a viper.
Even if she was incapable of warding him off, she had to see it
happening like watching a phlebotomist's needle sink into a vein.
Why did everything about him make her think of piercing and blood?
What the hell had he drugged her with because it was making her hear
and fear things she knew didn't exist?
She gave herself a moment of weakness and looked behind her
shoulders at the pillows, if only she could bury herself there and wait
for her mom to find her. Shaking her head, she rid herself of that
ludicrous hope. No one was getting her out of this and certainly not
her mom.
She broke her lecherous gaze on the pillows and went back to
watching where she'd last spotted Constantine disappear. Her heart
stuttered mid beat and she felt something like a diaphragm slam into
her lungs; he was back. Worse, he was dragging someone or thing
27
behind him, because whatever it was dribbled blood onto the cement
floor.
Helena knew she should watch Constantine's every move if for no
ot
her reason than to clasp her head and protect her hair, b ut the blood.
A darkening red trail tracked where he had been. He and whoever
was recently dead were getting closer and she could be next, but the
blood.
Her mouth watered. Wasn't that an odd panic reaction? Lips parted
and the drool welled up over her bottom lip, one viscous drip
dribbling down her chin and landing on her shirt. The back of her
hand wiped across her mouth, but the saliva mounted until she had to
swallow or drown in her own juices.
Nostrils flared picking up every nuance of iron she could from the
air. Her tongue swelled up feeling sore and dry despite all her saliva.
Hunger shot from her stomach with a convulsive anger that made her
throat too tight to handle swallowing anything that wasn't liquid and
juicy.
Careless of the pain, her head shook violently. Drugs had to still be
in her system. This wasn't a normal human reaction. Sure his
presence made her brain go crazy processing hatred mingled with lust,
but the blood.
"You smell it, don't you?" Constantine pulled the body behind him
by the hair.
Her own scalp cringed at the act, but she gave little credence to
human fear. The neck was ripped open and blood spurted up and
drenched his clothes before being wasted on the cement. Oh god,
what was wrong with her? Blood wasted? Shouldn't her hind brain be
causing her to want to flee or fight? Why was she so drawn to the
blood so that little else mattered?
Helena screamed at herself to shut up. She couldn't deal with this
all at once, and surely she should be focusing on the source of the
blood. Wasn't that more important? Shouldn't the blood be staunched
and saved. Someone could surely use it.
Helena gulped. She was going insane, breaking apart, yelling at
herself and not even knowing what she was going to say until she did.
28
Her body started to shake under the strain. She needed silence so she
could stop thinking, no to think. She required silence to think, but her
body was so loud with different needs and wants.
Constantine deposited the body at her feet, the skin-stripped neck
still gurgling from a fresh kill.
"Beautiful, isn't it, all the still warm blood?" Constantine leaned