When the Dark Wins

“Maybe?” By the cracked syllables in that word, the lovely girl was enticed.

My gaze sharpened. “Best offer.”

Vitor walked up to where this open plan study-and-bedroom merged onto the outside, seaward-facing deck. He waited, knowing that by this time of morning, I should have instructions for him. I crooked a finger, watched him approach to within a yard of my desk and stand behind Red.

“I have a question for you.”

“Sir?” Dressed in a smart shirt and pants, Vitor looked the part of a bodyguard – which he partly was. Despite his nonchalance, he perused the girl’s body. The man loved girl’s asses and he knew my tendency to throw them his way when I was bored or done with them.

“You want to fuck this?” I lightly patted Red below her hip, across her bottom.

His eyebrows rose. “Yes. It’s time for me to remind you though, sir.”

Of the ritual. True. Twice a day. Clockwork. She’d messed with that.

I could feel Red striving to glance behind her but shook my head. She subsided almost as readily as any ordinary collectible. Almost.

It was the almost that fascinated me.

I liked her remnant of ferocity.

I was bored with the other girls because they were perfect robots. Red was fractured, flawed – what Wolfe had done was not complete and left openings for defiance. Defiance, I decided, was the frosting on the cake. A pity there was only one of her.

“Maybe I’ll let you have her.” I switched my focus to Red in time to see her flinch. “I have five girls, so five chances for you to argue your way out of me keeping you. Maybe you can save them too. Give me good reasons. Get enough ticks from me, and there you have it. Freedom.”

“For us all?”

I shrugged, then reached and put my forefinger below her eye where tears had gathered. I pulled my finger across her face, her cheek, creating a glistening track. “This isn’t some typed contract, it’s one written in spit, tears, and cum, and in blood. Blood is easier to read.”

Her mouth made an O.

“Stick out your tongue.”

I took hold of the tip. Slippery, squirmy thing. “I like you. Argue well and I won’t have to cut this off and shove it up your cunt. It’s a retribution the cartels might use.”

I let go of her tongue, wiped my fingers on her tits.

“Fuck, I hate you.”

Her shoulder-length hair had slipped across her face again. The red strands stuck to the tears, to her full lips, shielded her eyes.

“I can fix that. The hate. For a CIA agent, you have such an innocent face.” She grimaced. “The first time we met you were a field agent, had this short hair, shaved on one side. No-nonsense, fuck-the-world hair. Do you remember what I told you?”

Frowning, she shook her head, stirring the hair tucked between her neck and the desk blotter.

“I told you never to cut it. I made it a quiet command, whispered it, told you not to remember my command, just the need to obey. I bet you haven’t cut it since.”

For the first time after I’d caught her again, she blushed. “I don’t believe you.”

“I see it worked.”

Chapter 4

He’d left a subliminal command inside me.

Fuck.

What else could he do? The ramifications might be endless. The instructions he could give...