Under His Influence

“Try and stop me.” Mimi sat herself down on the sofa, chin in palms, trying to put the huge list of questions in her head into some kind of order.

John sat next to her, too close, his hip nudging hers. She tried to move away, but he put a hand on her thigh.

“Don’t be unfriendly,” he wheedled.

“What happened to the real John Stone? Caroline’s real brother?”

“He died,” John said flatly.

“Yes, but…did he…have to? What happened?”

“I didn’t kill him. My ring took me to the place where I could be most confident of a seamless matter transfer. This was complicated by the fact that I needed the same thing for my mother. So, it could have taken me to any hospital, any killing field, any famine-stricken encampment. But it so happened that it took me here.”

“You needed a body—a vacant body.”

“Yes. Well, two vacant bodies. When we got here, we had no physical form. We were particles in the air, waiting our chance to take an empty shell and fill it. We hovered here for a few seconds. Stone was overdosing on some drug or other. At first, I was anxious for Mother—I thought the ring had got the coordinates wrong and there would be no body for her to inhabit. But once Stone slipped out of life, and I slipped into his body, his housekeeper came in and collapsed with shock at the sight of it all. Heart attack, I suppose. And there was Mother’s chance.”

“I see. So you didn’t…murder anyone.”

“No. The commandeering of the bodies has to be done quickly—before the heart stops beating altogether. You have to be on the scene. But the ring chose well. I didn’t know if the requirement for a rich host body would be a little beyond its capabilities. It couldn’t have picked a better man for the job. Stone is rich, powerful, influential. Not bad-looking either.” He flashed his eyes at Mimi, who had to look away to prevent a wave of desire coursing through her.

“Certainly not modest,” she snapped.

“Oh, the personal qualities are all mine,” John boasted. “I don’t know what sort of man John Stone was. Presumably he was experiencing some sort of suicidal despair. I wouldn’t know about that.”

“What do you know about? What human emotions can you feel? Any? Or none?”

John raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, stretching his neck back against the luxurious upholstery.

“Loyalty. Anger. Impatience. Frustration. Desire.” His voice deepened, fingers drumming on the tight material of Mimi’s skirt. “Lust. Passion. Exhilaration. Pleasure.”

“You said…you promised.” Mimi’s breath was short, the small, rhythmic beats of his fingers against her inflaming all kinds of needs inside. She tensed, trying her best to blot out the sensation.

“What did I promise?” John’s lips were low, brushing her ear. She should stand up, move away, but her own stupid captive desires prevented her.

“Remember? That you would stop trying to enslave me through sex? I’ve said I’ll help you.”

“Who’s trying to enslave anyone?” he whispered. “I just want you. Just for the sake of wanting you. I’ve no ulterior motive. Just lots of ulterior blood rushing around me every time I’m near you. You make me reckless. You make me so…very…horny.”

Miranda’s ear burned, the hairs around it on prickly end.

“Come on. Who’s it going to hurt? You want me. I want you. Let me have you, Mimi. Let’s take the edge off all this distracting lust. Then we can concentrate on our strategy.”

Mimi felt that familiar melting sensation at her crotch. She was looking into a perilous abyss of sex, knowing that if she fell, she would never find a way out. If she succumbed to John, she would belong to him. There was no return.

“You can feel all those things,” she gasped, clinging to the remnants of her self-control. “What about love, John? You never mentioned love.”

“There are so many kinds of love. Why do you people only have one word for it? I can feel some of them. Not all of them.”

“Unselfish love.” Mimi trembled. “Love for another. The love Anna feels for you.”

“What’s unselfish about that?” John’s words in Mimi’s ear were like extravagant poison, irresistible opiates. “She got what she wanted from me. She got protection, luxury, hope, a sense of belonging she’d never had. She got plenty. And she got fucked like she’ll never be fucked again, of course. Let’s not forget that.”

“John…” With a superhuman effort of will, Mimi dragged herself off the sofa, away from his toxic temptations. “Let’s stick with the plan. The meeting tomorrow. Let’s keep this on a professional basis.”

John’s lip curled. “You’re no fun.”

“Where’s Luana?”