Beyond The Pale Part 6
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Darius didn't answer right away. I knew he was using me for his own ends when it came to Bonaventure. But then I was using him. I felt like J had thrown me to the wolves. I didn't have any backup. My instructions were sketchy at best. If I got out of this alive-and if I could help stop this potential terrorist attack-it would be by my own wits and cunning. So far Darius seemed to have better information. J's dossiers didn't include anything about Bonaventure's bodyguards. I was beginning to trust Darius more than my own boss. I really wanted to see how much he'd tell me.
Darius leaned forward, closer to me. and said very quietly, "We've had Bonaventure under surveillance since he arrived in New York. He's setting up a major weapons sale with men we believe to be terrorists."
"Tell me something I don't know," I whispered back.
"The buy is something beyond the ordinary. We expect it to happen early next week. We think Bonaventure has already brought the weapons into this country. We think we know how. We need to know exactly where the weapons are and who is getting them. We need to take possession of whatever it is Bonaventure is selling, and we need to capture the men who want it."
I felt disappointed. I sat up straight and looked at Darius. Maybe I was making a mistake in setting up this "side deal" with a rival agent. I shook my head. "So far, Darius, that is old information. J told me about the same thing. What have you to do with this that he doesn't? I know there's something else involved here. Come on, convince me I should help you. How can you help me?"
Darius sat back in his chair as well, staring down at his gla.s.s of Scotch. He picked it up and swirled the liquid around. It seemed a bit oily against the side of the gla.s.s. Finally he looked up at me. "Okay, here's the bottom line. J is dealing purely in the intelligence end of this. He wants people taken alive. His agency wants to turn the terrorists into double agents, or simply empty them of useful information. My agency disagrees. They want to hunt these people down and kill them. You might say I'm in the cleanup end. Certain people are my special targets. Certain people my agency is convinced should not be left alive."
"Who? Why'"
"Look, Daphne. There are things you are better off not knowing. It doesn't concern you." He hesitated. "Or you and me. Yes, it's totally screwed up that every intelli-gence agency does its own thing. I know that. And if you don't know it, you should. One benefit you and I can get out of coordinating our efforts is that we won't get each other killed. And right now you can help me big-time. You can be my ticket into Bonaventure's apartment."
"I don't see how."
"Don't worry your pretty head about that. I'll set everything up."
A patronizing tone had crept into his voice. That is something that pushes my b.u.t.tons. My tone swung over into the red zone on the annoyance meter. "You know, Darius, you're p.i.s.sing me off. This pretty head pretty head has a brain in it. And it's telling me you want to call the shots. That's not going to fly. Either you level with me and we act as partners, or I finish this gla.s.s of water and go catch a taxi." has a brain in it. And it's telling me you want to call the shots. That's not going to fly. Either you level with me and we act as partners, or I finish this gla.s.s of water and go catch a taxi."
Darius snapped back, "I would level with you if I thought you knew what the h.e.l.l you were doing! Do you have any idea how brutal these people are? If they even suspect you're setting them up, they won't just kill you. They'll make sure they have fun killing you." Darius was keeping his voice low, but I could see his muscles tensing, and he was spitting out his words like machine-gun bullets.
"I told you, Darius, I can handle myself. Why do you have such a hard time believing that? Is it because I'm a woman?"
"d.a.m.n it, Daphne, yes, that's part of it. More than that, I'm beginning to have feelings for you. Maybe you think I'm handing you a line and that we hardly know each other. Well, there are things you know about a person by instinct-and by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g them three times in one night. Look, I think there's a good chance one of us can get killed before this all over. I want to try to get both of us through it alive."
I was stunned by his words. We had been really good together, but our s.e.x didn't have any strings attached. We were practically strangers when we fell into bed. We made no promises to each other. I had admitted to myself I could really fall for Darius, but I never expected him to talk about his feelings. My voice softened a little, but I wanted to stick to my guns. "Well, I don't want you to get killed either. But helping you enter that apartment is probably going to be a risk of huge proportions. So far I don't have any reason to do it."
"I think you do. Daphne, I'm going to enter that apartment with you or without you. I'm going to do what I've been sent to do. If we don't work together, we might get in each other's way. Worse, you could walk in on something or end up being a hostage. I don't know what might happen if we keep each other in the dark. But if we work together,! do know we'll be safer. It's just common sense to coordinate our two operations. And there's so much at stake. And like I said, I know J. He'll leave you hanging out there if it's between saving you and salvaging his operation. He's a coldhearted b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Daphne. I'm not. I promise you that."
A lot of what he said made sense. I still had doubts, though, so I said. "Let me think about it."
"There's nothing to think about, and you know it."
My eyes got huge. I was ready to dump my water on him and tell him to go to h.e.l.l when I saw he was grinning at me. "Gotcha," he said as the waiter brought our food. I dug in and downed the steak quickly, as fast as I could get the bites into my mouth. Once I saw Darius looking at me. "What?" I said before I took another b.l.o.o.d.y forkful.
"You weren't kidding when you said you were starved," he said.
I couldn't resist another zinger. "I mean what mean what I I say," I countered. say," I countered.
"I'm beginning to believe you do," he said. We both cleaned our plates. Under the table my foot had ended up against his leg again. The contact felt good, s.e.xy, and it was beginning to feel familiar. I liked it more than I was ready to admit.
"Let's get coffee and dessert," Darius said with a rakish grin, and signaled to the waiter. Then he looked at me.
The sizzle started in my toes and went straight up to my stomach, which did a little flip. Not many men have given me that sensation. The chemistry between us was explosive, and I definitely didn't need to think about that that. "And then what?" I said, my voice full of meaning.
"Then we can go upstairs-if you want to. I'm not presuming anything, but I'd like to spend time with you. I'd like to be with you. The suites here are beautiful." want to. I'm not presuming anything, but I'd like to spend time with you. I'd like to be with you. The suites here are beautiful."
"That would be extravagant."
"You are worth the extravagance, Daphne. You are extraordinary, fiery and strong, gentle and lovely. And the seduction of a sophisticated woman requires a certain ambience. And I guessed you would like the Stanhope."
"You guessed correctly. But is that what you intend to do, seduce me?" The banter between us was making me excited. My breath was coming faster. I was beginning to want him badly.
His eyes glittered. "Yes, Daphne Urban, I intend to seduce you and love you as certain dark things are to be loved, between the shadow and the soul. I want to find the hidden places within you like a traveler following twisting roads through the mountains that lead higher and higher till they vanish in the clouds."
I'm a sucker for a man with a poetic imagination and a silver tongue. My legs were going all jelly again. I didn't know if I could stand up to get out of the restaurant. I wasn't so foolish as to think he hadn't used that line before, but I liked hearing it. It showed me a part of Darius that appealed to me a great deal. And I wanted s.e.x with this man, as much as he obviously wanted s.e.x with me. We were two adults doing an adult thing, and I intended to enjoy it thoroughly.
Fortunately for my reputation, the waiter brought me a creme brulee laced with white chocolate and raspberries accompanied by a cup of decaf. It was sinfully good. Darius had cheesecake and espresso. He ate like a truck driver, with gusto and no regard to calories. I asked him about his family. He said he came from a large Northern Italian family who settled in Brooklyn. His father and uncles ran a bakery.
"And how did you end up a spy?" I asked.
He took a long breath and put down his fork. "I was in the military, a Navy SEAL. After a point I just wanted do my time and get out. I felt we were fighting pointless wars and losing lives stupidly. Then my youngest brother was murdered. I took it badly. My whole family was grieving, but I was burning up from the inside out. I just wanted to get the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who did it. I was approached by someone who offered a chance for me to do just that. It changed everything."
"Did you avenge your brother?" I asked.
"Yes." Darius's voice hammered the word like an iron nail. Then he pressed his fingers against his eyes and paused a minute before going on. "Yes. I did. And then I was given another a.s.signment by the person who first approached me. He was a recruiter, probably much like the one who must have recruited you. Same s.h.i.+t, different day. But my life suddenly had purpose." Darius let out a sigh. "It seems like all that is ancient history." He looked at me. "End of story." He shrugged.
"I appreciate your telling me that, Darius. I really do." I reached over and gently touched his face. He took my hand and raised it to his lips, kissing my palm.
Then he said, "If you're ready, let's go upstairs." He pushed his chair back, then came over and held mine. A waiter rushed over with the check. Darius smiled as he signed it.
"Don't you have to go book the room?" I asked.
"I did this afternoon," he said.
"You what!" I exploded.
He pulled me to him and whispered, "Just in case you said yes. And I was so hoping you would."
"You're incorrigible." I laughed. "And I did, didn't I," I whispered back, nuzzling his ear.
"Okay, let's get out of here." He grinned.
I was very ready to leave, and I was glad Darius's hurry saved me from having to talk about myself, my past, my family, my becoming a spy, because anything I said would have been a pack of lies.
At first I thought it was because the Stanhope is a staid old lady of a hotel that we didn't kiss in the elevator going up to our room, although I was burning with desire. Darius stood just far enough away so we didn't touch, and he didn't look at me even though he was smiling. And then I realized not touching was intensifying the expectation, and that Darius was playing at something. I wanted to see what. We didn't kiss outside the hotel room door. When we entered, we didn't touch. A sitting room lay to our left. The bedroom lay to the right. My coat was already hung in the closet by some efficient member of the hotel staff. Darius walked in front of me to the bedroom and switched on the light next to the bed. The bed, opulent with a brocade cover and huge soft pillows, was high enough to need a little step stool to help a person get into it. I stood in the doorway. Darius crossed the room and sat down in a wing chair near the windows. He obviously knew the layout well, and it crossed my mind that he must have brought women here before. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossed them, and clasped his hands across his stomach. He looked at me with sultry eyes.
"Would you take off your clothes for me?" he said.
"Yes," I said softly, ready to go wherever this scenario led.
"Would you take them off slowly?" he said. "Yes," I answered, and I did. When I stood there naked, he looked at me from head to toe. My nipples were hard. The air was warm and caressing. I stared back at him. He got up and walked to me. When he touched me, my life stopped. Time was suspended. He encircled my arms within his embrace, pinning them to my sides. He kissed me deeply. The wool of his jacket rubbed against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The softness of his sweater touched my stomach. He said, "Your body is as smooth as marble, as smooth as stones in the water."
"Yes," I said, seeking his lips with mine.
He pushed me back toward the bed and made me lie down with just my torso on the bedspread, my legs dangling over the side. He stood between them while his hands stroked down across my stomach and held my thighs, his touch leaving a trail of s.h.i.+very wonder. Darius was breathing harder now. He took his thumbs and parted me, rubbing and circling as my breath caught and made little gasps. Then he stopped.
I heard more than saw him unb.u.t.ton and unzip his pants, and then I realized he didn't get undressed. I propped myself up my elbows to see what he was doing. He stayed fully clothed while I awaited him, totally naked. I watched as he slipped his c.o.c.k out of his pants and held it in his hand. He rubbed it against me, and I could feel its hardness. I arched expectantly. But I didn't antic.i.p.ate the force with which he thrust himself into me or the depth to which he penetrated. I moaned loudly, stunned. His arms on either side of my waist held his body above me. I looked up into his face as he pounded against me. He watched me as he did it. He pushed hard. He pushed deep. I saw his face begin to change from consciousness into an enraptured trance. After that, I doubt if he really saw me. He just thrust into me again and again. It went on for long minutes, a rhythmic motion that hypnotized and aroused us both into a Tantric ecstasy.
Using the techniques taught me long ago in the empress's court, I tightened and released around his c.o.c.k with my pelvic muscles, matching the beat of his movement. I was very strong. He groaned, carried away with pleasure. But he was strong too. He balanced on one arm while he reached down with his hand and increased the sensations rocking me. Someone long practiced in the art of love must have taught him how to prolong a woman's pleasure, for he did things with his fingers and his c.o.c.k that had me gasping. I started to groan and then to thrash about, until he leaned over and with one hand grabbed my hair. He pinned me down and held me still while he drove me wild with ecstasy. "Do I please you, Daphne? Tell me how it feels when I f.u.c.k you," he whispered. "Does it feel good?"
"Yes." I gasped. "It feels so good, Darius. Hot and hard. Rock hard, Darius."
He covered my mouth with his, kissing me hard as he f.u.c.ked me hard. The bed rocked, and I was coming. Half-conscious, I was lost in sensation. I wanted to scream but his mouth m.u.f.fled my groans. I was losing control; I was rising and flying.
I reached up with my hand and clasped his neck. I started to pull him down toward my mouth. I wanted to drink his blood and feel the ecstasy that was greater than an o.r.g.a.s.m as streams of light coursed through my veins.
Something inside me tried to hold back, but it was too late. I saw his jugular vein blue under his skin and couldn't resist, my teeth becoming fangs as I leaned toward his flesh to bite and- I didn't. Darius pulled away suddenly, arching his back as he exploded within me, his neck far from my reach. And that snapped me fully conscious, fear coursing through me at how close I had come to taking him to the realms of the undead. He pumped against me some more; then made me climax again with his fingers. I screamed; I know I did. Only when he had withdrawn and lifted my legs up onto the bed, turning me and putting my head on a satin pillow, did I realize there had been no condom between us. I'm immune to disease, it's true, but vampires can conceive. Conditions must be exactly right for that rarity to occur, and I doubted that I would, but I wondered why Darius had taken such a risk. The only reason that came to me was that he believed this mission was not one that he'd finish alive.
He climbed into the bed then and lay beside my naked body, still fully clothed. It was exciting to feel his clothes against my flesh, but also disconcerting. He turned my head toward him and kissed me. In the darkness he recited to me. It sounded vaguely like something Charles Swinburne might write. " 'Thine eyes blind me, thine tresses burn me. I could eat thy b.r.e.a.s.t.s as honey, and drink thy blood as wine. Thy sharp sighs divide my flesh and spirit with soft sound... that from face to feet, thy body were abolished and consumed, and in my very flesh thy very flesh entombed.' " He leaned down and kissed each breast between each line he said, then, when the poem was over, ran one hand idly over them before his fingers came up to stroke my face.
I sighed and again wondered if he said those words to other women he took to bed. He was either a player or a true romantic. I just didn't know him well enough to decide which.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"I was wondering where you learned to recite poetry. In college?"
"In a Chinese prison," he said bitterly, and rolled away.
Me and my big mouth, I thought. I s.h.i.+fted onto my side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for whatever you went through. No matter where you learned it, the lines are beautiful." I was silent for a moment, then said, "'Can I ask you to do something for me?"
"'What?" he said, the mood broken and a tension growing in his body.
"Would you please take off your clothes?"
He did, and we both got under the covers. Within minutes he had fallen deeply asleep. I stayed still for a while, smelling him, listening to his soft snores. I wasn't sleepy, and besides. I couldn't spend the night. I had to be back in my coffin before first light. I slipped out of bed and washed up in the bathroom, put on my clothes, and came quietly back into the bedroom. I looked at Darius lying there, the tangled sheet around his waist, one strong leg exposed. Even in sleep His fists were clenched, his jaw tensed, his brow furrowed. He followed dream spirits into battle. He slumbered but didn't rest. I hoped I wasn't making a serious mistake by trusting him and, after tonight, I thought, truly caring about him. I knew this was a driven man and I was not his priority.
It was different for me. I never had an urgency to complete anything. There would be always time to dream and create, time for all the nights of work and days of leisure, time for a hundred visions and revisions. I had eternity before me to do what I wished. Darius, the clock ticking, dashed ahead at full tilt, bringing his private demons with him as inseparable companions. The finality of death stayed with him like a shadow at his side. I looked at him once more.
My heart didn't want to go. I took my coat from the hall closet and let myself out, being careful not to slam the door. Over the centuries I too have memorized poetry and the words of my Irish friend, Billy Yeats, haunted me as I left: In a field by the river my love and I did stand. And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the gra.s.s grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears In a field by the river my love and I did stand. And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the gra.s.s grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
I hoped the words weren't prophetic, but a chill pa.s.sed through me as I stepped back onto the Fifth Avenue sidewalk. With the cold air snapping me into a pellucid awareness, I was unhappily sure they were.
Chapter 7.
Cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face.
-William Blake
I arrived home, my body satisfied, my mood pensive, my soul troubled. And knowing full well that the person who phoned me most often was my mother, I knew the message light blinking on my answering machine didn't bode well.
It was worse than I thought.
First message, Ma's cigarette-and-whiskey voice: "Hi, sweetie, I didn't know you were going out. Are you seeing someone? Don't forget: Drinks tomorrow night. No excuses. Sevenish. Look pretty. Love you. And power to the people."
Next, totally unexpectedly, was Cormac: "Sooo, you're not home on a Friday evening, well, la-di-da. At least one of us seems to have something-or someone someone-interesting to do. And it sure isn't me, you little devil, you. Have you been kicking a.s.s? Catching bad guys Playing Mata Hari?"
"Don't ask what I've been doing. I'm just a glorified concierge. Dry cleaning deliveries. Oh, my G.o.d, you would not believe how many times an evening I'm calling upstairs to the rooms, 'Brother Johnson, your garments from Pure and Spotless are at the front desk.' And nonstop, all night long, they pipe in Gregorian chants... in Latin. I had enough of that in the Middle Ages, thank you! I swear, I could just scream. I've been wearing earphones so I can listen to Madonna.
"'But here I am, chattering on about me. I called to tell you that I saw our mutual friend tonight, and he is surly, surly, surly. I don't know what you did to p.i.s.s him off, but oh, my, are you on his s.h.i.+t list. You'll have to give me all the juicy details ASAP. Don't call me, I'll call you. Kiss, kiss."
Third message: "Hey. there, girlfriend, it's Benny. I just have to tell you what I'm being sent to do. I am as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Give me a jingle! Till then, tie a big knot in your rope and hold on. Well, I'd better get back to my rat killing... that's hillbilly slang for taking care of business. Call meeeee!"
I had to smile. Sure, J, mum '$ the word. We won't discuss a thing about this secret spy operation. Right Sure, J, mum '$ the word. We won't discuss a thing about this secret spy operation. Right.
And then the kicker, message numero quatro numero quatro: "Hermes. This is Ringmaster. Get your b.u.t.t down here. Now."
I had been ordered around enough for one night. "In your dreams," I yelled at the machine. Okay, I guess I was in deep trouble. Was this about Bonaventure? Was this about my... shall we call it my indiscretion when I left him the last time? Whatever had him ticked off. I wasn't about to jump and run. Instead a scheme formed in my mind, and I called Benny. She answered on the second ring.
I told her I had only a minute to talk, but was she free tomorrow night and would she mind stopping by my mother's for c.o.c.ktails? She said she'd love to. I told her I would swing by her place around six thirty to pick her up and that she should dress s.e.xy in case we wanted to do the club scene afterward. She said she would "go whole hog and pig crazy." Her relentless good humor almost made me forget I had to face J before dawn. But I wasn't going anywhere until I showered and changed. Besides. I was suddenly dead tired, and I hoped the water would slap some life back into me. A nice big gla.s.s of blood wouldn't hurt either.
Did I think about Darius? Oh, yes. He was a wisp of smoke filtering through my mind, shading everything with the thought that what I had done with him had complicated my life and entangled me in cords that I might never be able to break. Yet I couldn't wait to see him again.
I showed up at J's office a little before four in the A.M. I had scrubbed myself with a loofah, washed my hair, and thrown on tight jeans. I pulled a pair of snuggly warm UGGS onto my feet, and for outerwear I chose a vintage World War II navy pea jacket.
The street was empty of both traffic and people when I left my apartment building. I had to walk down the block to Broadway to find a pa.s.sing cab. New York is a city that never sleeps, but on the Upper West Side, in the middle of the night, it dozes a bit. The streetlights glare, but sounds are muted, as if they're wearing bedroom slippers.
The temperature had started to fall again. I s.h.i.+vered and jammed my hands deeply into my pockets, unhappy that I had to be outside again. With the sky inky black above, ancient urges hummed inside me, tempting me to duck into a shadowy doorway and transform, and once transformed to fly, swooping along looking for another lone walker, to drop down, embrace him, and drink.
I hated feeling like that. I hated the monster inside me. I didn't choose to be what I was. No matter how beautiful I was, or kind, or good, it made no difference. I was a vampire. That was reason enough for people to hate me and all my race. Didn't I have the same senses, affections, and pa.s.sions as any other woman? Didn't I feel the warmth of the same sun, the cold of the same winter? Didn't I cry when hurt? Didn't my heart break when my love left me. just like any woman? Didn't I yearn for understanding and acceptance, for tenderness and compa.s.sion, just like any woman? And if you wronged me, didn't I yearn for revenge, just like any woman?
A cab with its on-duty light on finally pulled over. I got in and told the driver to take me to the Flatiron Building. New York cabbies don't ask questions, and if this one wondered what the h.e.l.l I was doing out at that hour, he didn't say. As indifferent as the city itself, he probably didn't care.
When I arrived at the building, the night watchman unlocked the door and held it open for me as if he were waiting for me to show. Upstairs, J was wearing thunderclouds when I strolled in. From the way his lips were pressed together and his brow creased, it was pretty clear without his saying a word that he was really ticked off. I looked at him coolly, uncaring. I didn't let his fury bother me. I figured J was a man with anger issues. He probably exploded two or three times a day. I didn't think he was going to stake me, so what else did I have to worry about? Would he fire me? Nah.
My sauntering in with an att.i.tude really fueled his inner fires. His anger seemed to heat the air around him. "Sit down," he said, and motioned toward the conference table. "I have to talk to you."
Beyond The Pale Part 6
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Beyond The Pale Part 6 summary
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