Rule of Law: A Chimera Novel, page 4
There was an outsize laptop left open by the expanse of windows. She jabbed at the keyboard, half expecting to see herself naked and writhing, but pulled up only security feeds of parking lots and a garage. Then a room full of men sitting around a card table with huge stacks of chips in front of them.
Gambling and gabbing, like idiots, unaware they were being watched.
Compelled to find out more, dreading what she might see, she hit a different key. The white room appeared. The feed was still. She could just make out Treva’s bare feet, and part of the rest of her, sprawled on the floor near the bathroom. If Law had seen this, he evidently didn’t care.
The hair on the back of her neck rose.
Good God, was he watching her now?
Backing away, Lana glanced around the room, feeling hidden eyes on her. Taking one last look at another screen before she hightailed it out of there, she stopped in her tracks. Her high school graduation photo. Like yearbooks, available online to anyone. But to see it here was a total shock. For more than one reason.
Despite the loneliness and isolation of boarding school, the girl with the broken smile in the picture had been happy that day. She was free. Free to do as she pleased and answering to no one but herself. How wrong she had been.
Click. Go away, girl. Click. Click. The San Francisco Chronicle headline from six years ago flashed up on the screen: The Senator’s Daughter Presumed Dead.
Staging her death. Survival at it’s most basic. It was the only way she could escape the demons. But they had followed her. They were always there. Just below the surface, lurking— reminding her of what she had done.
Shaking off the shadows of her past, Lana clicked through several more pictures of herself, most of her at the club, on the pole or serving cocktails.
Apparently, Law had been watching her for some time. Waiting to make his move. She scrolled back several pages.
He wasn’t just interested in her, apparently. She found an article on her father’s appointment as chairman of the intelligence committee.
She knew her father had serious clout in the capital as well as a super high security clearance, but what was that to Law?
She pressed another key and all the screens fizzled into digital sparks simultaneously. What was the hell was happening? Too late, she noticed the tiny camera lights at the top of the screens. All green. All on.
More frightened now than angry, she moved around the room looking for another way out and nearly screamed with relief when she found a second door on the opposite side of the room. As she slowly backed out, she glanced over her shoulder and nearly fainted. Law’s glaring face flashed on every screen in the room.
Lana bolted and ran straight into an alternate universe.
Chapter Five
The throaty moan of a tenor sax set the mood for the sensual choreography playing out before her. A large yet intimate room with a sunken conversation space dead center drew her eyes to beautifully dressed men and women who mingled in the softly lit room. Some of the woman, ethereal in their appearance, looked as if they weren’t quite real. Light shimmered through their bodies and their eyes. She watched a lovely women press her lips to a man’s neck. When he turned to take her into his arms, his hands moved through her as if she were a shadow. Or a hologram?
The woman laughed, the sound soft, seductive. Retreating, she tilted her head toward the wide flaring stairway. He looked past her. Lana followed his gaze. Several beauties smiled down from the balustrade balcony, the invitation not lost on anyone who was paying attention.
Lured by the siren’s call, he followed the gossamer woman up the stairway where they were greeted by the others, and then disappeared into the shadows. Total different vibe than the jackbooted crowd. These people, an élite clientele, were here to be served the finest libations, epicurean delights and beautiful bodies.
Thankful for the shrouded alcoves and low lights, Lana was able to blend in with her hasty disguise.
Low moans of pleasure floated around Lana, taunting her with the promise of rapture. The eroticism of the sound alone was an aphrodisiac. A woman’s gasp as she climaxed followed by the deep satisfied groan of a man well pleased filtered from the walls.
Lana understood. This place was purely and simply a pleasure palace. Not, she realized, exclusive to heterosexual couplings. A striking woman dressed in a femininely tailored tuxedo took the hand of another woman, the look between them one of unmistakable desire. Their eyes locked as they floated up the stairway and disappeared.
Several men, wearing the same black suits with red shirts she had seen in the asylum, moved effortlessly behind a long gleaming bar at the far end of the elaborate room. Alluring women in sheer black togas trimmed with slim red shoulder sashes moved among the guests, seeing to their needs.
Lana blinked several times as she watched a toga-draped girl walk into a perimeter wall and disappear.
Shaking her head as she processed what she just witnessed, Lana closed her eyes and when she opened them, the girl had reemerged, her tray empty.
What was this place? Looking deeper into the shadow that surrounded the sunken space, Lana watched several other girls slip in and out of what looked like a solid wall. Stepping further into the enthralling room, Lana mentally prepared herself for anything. Law’s world was as mysterious as the man himself.
The sax improvisation reached an intense crescendo, like hot sex set to music. An amazing soundtrack for what was, as far as she could tell, sophisticated debauchery for the elite.
She needed to walk through the room like she belonged, to the other side, which she prayed was the way out. Because there was no going back. Raising her chin, and avoiding eye contact, Lana focused on the goal. Stepping slowly down into the social area, she moved through the gathering.
When one of the toga-clad women asked if she would like a cocktail, Lana shook her head and continued moving. As she cleared the sunken meeting area, she turned and looked over her shoulder to the door she had come through, just as it opened. Heart racing, she turned forward and hurried. Several suited men were exiting an elevator straight ahead, no more than twenty feet from her. She needed to get on it before it closed.
Holding her breath, praying for success, Lana glided across the marble floor. Almost safe. She sighed with relief.
But the moment she entered the car, a hand touched her shoulder from behind. She stopped mid-step, terrified.
“Miss?” a deep voice asked.
Slowly exhaling, Lana put her foot down but didn’t dare turn. If that was Law who had come through the door, he might be looking her way.
“Yes?” she softly responded, her voice tinged with a slight but authentic French accent. She had mastered it long ago—the daughter of the French ambassador to the US had been one of her middle school roommates.
“There is a gentleman here tonight who would like an introduction.”
“Non, I am so sorry, I am not feeling well this evening. Perhaps another night?”
Lana glanced over her shoulder to see the man shrug nonchalantly and then withdraw.
She stepped all the way into the paneled car, coming face to face with another black suit, paired with a white shirt and bow tie. Not a guest. An elevator attendant. Well, hell. Someone had to push the buttons, right? He accepted her presence with a nod and asked, “Where would you like to go, mademoiselle?”
Smiling, she pursed her full lips into an award- winning pout, well aware that he couldn’t help staring at her mouth.
“I am not sure which floor it is, but it would be the one to exit, please.”
“Would you like us to arrange for a ride, or contact the parking valet or the dock steward?”
“The valet, s’il vous plait.”
“My pleasure. If you would be so kind as to give me your remote code, the valet will have your car available as soon as you exit.”
Lana swallowed and looked over her shoulder. No sign of Law. But she was running out of time. Clueless about a remote code, she said, “Merci, but that will not be necessary. My friend with the car will meet me outside.”
He nodded, and pressed the Close Door button. Just as the doors began to close behind her, a deep familiar voice said, “Hold the elevator, Johnny.”
Law.
Moving deeper into the corner of the car, her back to him as he entered, it was everything Lana could do to control her trembling. He was a foot away from her. Please, she prayed, don’t let him get me.
“Which floor, sir?” the attendant asked.
“The Club, but hold the door, I’m waiting for someone,” Law said.
“Of course, sir.”
Fear tightened Lana’s chest, making it difficult to breathe. She didn’t dare move. The intangible heat of Law’s body wound around her. Power pulsed wildly from him. His spicy masculine scent stimulated her senses as surely as if he caressed her.
She could almost hear him laughing at her for thinking she could escape him.
No good would come of it if she allowed this man any part of her. The sexual spell he radiated would allow him to slowly possess her—mind, body and soul—until there would be nothing left of her.
“I am afraid, monsieur,” she said softly to the attendant without looking up, “that I must be going.”
“May I be of assistance?” Law said from behind her.
Shaking her head, she said, “Non, merci.”
Lana forced herself to remain erect, not slumped in fear. Ignoring Law, she sidestepped from the car, and hurried toward the bar. If ever she needed a drink, she needed one now. On edge, she watched a determined True stride out of the same door she and Law had come through, his head on a swivel, looking for someone. Her.
“Excuse me,” she said to the bartender. “Could you direct me to the ladies’ room, please?”
He pointed to the elevator. Oh no. Law was right where she’d left him, staring in her direction. “Go past the elevator, then straight back.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t move, not until Law was gone. But her flight instinct was too strong. And her hasty disguise wasn’t the greatest. If he caught her, he would double down on her punishment. Inhaling deeply, she strode toward the hallway. Once she was out of sight, she bolted for the restroom.
The startled attendant, a plump woman in a modest uniform, quickly recovered when Lana burst into the room.
“May I help you, miss?”
“No, no, I just—never mind.” She hurried to the first stall, pulled back the heavy upholstered door, slipped in, and closed the door behind her. Locking it, she plopped down on the toilet and exhaled.
Narrow escape. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, biting her lip, fighting the terror that gripped her. She was the hunted. If she was found, she would be—no, she couldn’t think of that. It couldn’t happen. Tightening her body into a ball, Lana fought the hysteria that caught fire inside her. He would do things to her, she just knew it. Things that would enslave her to him. Things that would control her, just as heroin had, but worse. She couldn’t endure the punishment that would come if she were caught.
Agonizing seconds ticked by. Wrapping her arms tighter around her body to keep it from shaking, Lana inhaled a deep breath. Then another. Slowly, her courage returned. She could do this. She would do this.
“Miss,” the attendant called. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I just had to go so bad!”
Standing, Lana flushed the toilet then smoothed her wig. Pinching her cheeks, she licked her lips and opened the door. The attendant smiled and handed her a moist scented cloth.
“Thank you,” Lana said as she took it. As she rinsed her hands, she eyed the array of hygienic and cosmetic sundries before her. Single-use tubes of lip gloss and mascara. Exactly what she needed. Plus mouthwash, breath mints, floss. And perfume samples, deodorant, tampons, nail polish remover and several other lady things.
Raising her gaze to the mirror, Lana didn’t recognize the haunted face staring back at her. She had to blend in; she needed to clean up. Moving to the end of the long counter, she washed her face, and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. Patting her skin dry, she got busy with the mascara and lipstick, generously applying both. Lastly, she dabbed the sultry perfume behind her ears. Smoothing her wig, and her improvised dress, she straightened and gave herself a second look. Better, but she still couldn’t fool a trained eye. Her best plan of escape was to get down to the valet-parking stand, and slip away.
“Maris,” she said reading the attendant’s nametag, “I left my purse at the table. I’ll be right back. I appreciate your discretion.”
“No worry,” the attendant reassured her. “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”
“Ah—yes. Which way to the stairway that goes outside?”
“The elevator is quicker.”
“I’m claustrophobic. I always take the stairs when I can.”
“OK. Then go past the bar to the left, you’ll see the door. You’ll still have to go past security to get out of the complex, though. Just let them scan your wrist.”
Scan her wrist? Of course a man like Law would have his fingers on the pulse of every soul that entered his domain. What was he hiding that required such tight security?
Thanking the attendant, Lana peeked down the hall before she followed the directions given. Not looking anywhere but ahead of her, Lana moved as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself.
When she opened the door to the staircase she almost screamed with relief, taking the stairs two at a time in a headlong rush. Freedom was only steps away, down a short hallway.
Fuck. Where two well-dressed men appeared to be waiting. But wait. Her best chance to get past security would be to accompany someone who had legitimately entered this place. She had no idea what the wrist scan entailed, but she figured it was some high tech ID verification, which she didn’t have.
Approaching the men she looked past them, through a revolving glass door and beyond where dozens of incredibly expensive cars lined up. A suited valet entered from a side door and said to the men, “Sirs, your vehicle is ready.”
The gleaming Ferrari was canary yellow. An excellent distraction for any onlookers who might otherwise remember her. Lana hurried forward and walked out with them. Pulse racing, she tapped the man in front of her on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” she said in a lilting French accent. He turned around, his hazel eyes widening. A slow smile stole across his lips.
“Well, hello.”
“Bon soir,” she replied coyly. “I am embarrassed to confess that my friend left without me. Would you be so kind to give a girl a ride home?”
His smile widened. “It would be my pleasure.” Taking her hand, he tucked it into the bend of his elbow. “Jerod,” he called to his friend. “Looks like the party may not be over.”
Repulsed by what he seemed to be implying, Lana decided to take her chances with these two would-be studs over one more second with Law. “Please,” she breathed, “promise to be gentle with me.”
Jerod and the other guy gave each other a silent high five. “My name is Kyle,” the one who held her hand said.
“Enchante, Kyle.” She smiled seductively, “My name is Monique.”
As he opened the car door, she moved to slide in. She was almost there. Her nerves taut as a tightrope.
“Ah, there you are, Monique,” a deep voice called from the sidewalk.
Whirling around, Lana faced Law’s devastating glare. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss you.” Moving Kyle aside, Law grasped her hand, entwining his fingers through hers.
“Let go of me,” she demanded.
“I made that mistake once tonight, I won’t make it a second time.”
“Hey man, let her go,” Jerod called from across the car.
“She’s with us,” Kyle defended, moving into Law’s space.
“I’m afraid, gentlemen, she’s with me. I suggest you get into your car and leave.”
“Looks to me like she doesn’t want to stay with you,” Jerod said, coming around his car.
“I don’t,” Lana said, pulling away from Law’s steel grip.
His fingers tightened around hers. She bit back a cry of pain.
In that instant, Jerod made the unfortunate choice to take Law on. The instant Jerod cocked his arm to throw a punch, Law slammed his elbow into Jerod’s face, still holding Lana’s hand, then turned and elbowed Kyle the same way. Jerod reeled back against his canary yellow Ferrari, and Kyle stumbled backward holding his bloody nose.
“Leave,” Law commanded. “Now.”
Both men backed away, got into the car and sped off.
Law smirked as the Ferrari disappeared into the night, then looked hard at her. “Nice try.”
Stunned by Law’s controlled violence, a new fear gripped Lana. She’d known instinctively from the moment their eyes first met that he was capable of destroying another human being. But what she’d just witnessed required virtually no effort for extreme results. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, just dealt with the two men as easily as he would tie a tie.
Anger replaced her despair. She had come so close. “Was that necessary?”
“Quite necessary.” He pulled her against him. “Try it again, and you’ll find out just how violent I can be.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I don’t make threats.”
Lana dug her nails into his palm. His jaw tightened, giving her the pleasure of turning the pain tables on him. “I’m not an animal that you can cage.”
With one swift move, he pulled her into the hardness of his body. “I would never do that. I’m not a cruel man, Brandi,” he said softly. Brushing back the black hair of her wig from her shoulder, he whispered, “Unless you give me a reason to be.”
Turning her head she bit at his jaw, sinking her teeth into his skin. Law hissed angrily. His large hand grasped her chin. When she refused to let go, he slid his fingers into her mouth and made her stop. The taste of his blood spurred renewed fury in her soul. She tried to bite him again, but his lips crashed down on hers, drawing her breath from her. The hard heat of his mouth scorched hers.
