Without Limits: A BWWM Collection of Passion and Desire, page 124
Belial climbed higher until we were level again and slipped my ear lobe into his mouth, sucking gently, and all thought of resisting him left me. I could have this. No one would know about it. Just me and him. No more pain. No more terrible responsibilities.
I shuddered as he licked my neck, his hands unbuckling the large button to my jeans. He slid one hand inside them and a wave of sweet, sweet ecstasy washed over me. I leaned my head back onto his shoulder helplessly.
And saw myself in the mirror of my vanity.
I barely recognized the woman staring back at me through mussed dark hair and dilated pupils. I looked nothing like myself.
And it scared the hell out of me.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Hmm?” Belial said distractedly, his mouth at my neck. “What was that, my pet?”
I slid away from his intoxicating, maddening touch and shook my head harder. “No. I…can’t do this. I won’t do this.”
“Why?” he demanded. “Why, damn you? You have nothing left to lose, you’ve said so yourself.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I said, wrapping my arms around my bare stomach. “If I don’t do this, people will die.”
Belial caught my face between his hands. “People die every minute of every day, Jordan. What difference does it make?”
“I know they do. But these are ones that I can save.”
He searched my gaze for a long moment and then rested his forehead against mine. “You are by far the most aggravatingly stubborn woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
He kissed me before I could say anything in return. “And I cannot wait until the day when you realize that the person who needs saving is you.”
I woke up the next morning alone.
Dammit.
I showered. Savored the scalding water sliding down my back. Lathered with leisure. Washed my hair with the cheap hotel shampoo and conditioner. Focused on the simple act of cleansing my weary body one inch after another. One step at a time, Amador. You can do this.
I blow-dried my hair and flat-ironed it, tucking it up into a high ponytail. Took my time globbing on makeup. Boy, I wouldn’t miss this part of my cover.
I packed my stuff up and opened the door.
To find a cop waiting for me.
The same cop I’d seen while driving Maurice’s van.
Well, shit.
He was dark-haired and probably in his early-to-mid thirties. The cop who had been driving the car was a patrolman, but this guy looked to be a detective of some sort based on the clothing: black blazer, white-dress shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. His shield was clipped to his belt, shiny and intimidating under the morning sunlight.
To be fair, at least he wasn’t standing directly outside my door menacingly. He was leaning against the metal banister across from the room smoking a cigarette. He glanced up at me with brown eyes and said, “Good morning,” without an ounce of malice.
“Morning,” I said carefully as I shut the door. “Weird spot for a detective to hang out. Although, that’s certainly none of my business.”
“Usually, no, but I think you and I should have a little chat. My name is Hughes.”
“How can I help you?”
“We met briefly yesterday while you were driving that van.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“Afraid so,” he said, taking another pull. “Considering whose van it was.”
He was fishing for something. I’d seen cops do that before. The good ones were experts at manipulation, waiting for the suspect to trip up and blab on themselves. The best method was to just keep my mouth shut and move it unless he had a warrant or a reason to arrest me. However, I’d have to gamble to find out if he actually had anything on me.
“Look, unless you work for an employment agency, I have nothing to say to you. Have a good day, Hughes.”
I started to walk away, but he spoke up. “The last three people we’ve arrested that drove that truck went to prison for five plus years a-piece. The four before that ended up dead. Maybe I don’t work for an employment agency, but I know what happens to the people who work in that bar. We know they’re connected to the drug runners at the Columbian joint. We’re closing in on them. Is that where you want to be?”
I took a deep breath. “You assume that I have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Mrs. O’Brien.”
I flinched. Couldn’t help it. He kept going. “Yeah, I know who you are. I watch the news every night before bed. Saw that fiasco in Lexington. You have quite a reputation, Mrs. O’Brien.”
“Amador,” I said sharply. “It’s Amador. And if you had any sense, you’d realize maybe that’s my motivation right there. I was a wanted criminal. Not exactly a lot of jobs I can get after that, not even with a pardon from the Big Guy in the Oval Office.”
“Don’t bet on another coming your way if you continue associating with the people in that bar. I’m only going to make you an offer once. Cooperate. Help us take them down and you’ll be immune to what’s coming.”
I shook my head and muttered, “Doesn’t matter what side I’m on; someone always has a problem with me.”
“What was that?”
I turned. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. You may not know it, but we’re on the same side.”
He eyed me. “We are, huh?”
“There’s no way I can convince you right now, but if you haul me in, good people are going to suffer for it.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. Just a fact. Give me today. Just today. Then I’ll be out of your hair and you can continue keeping the city safe.”
Hughes pushed off from the banister and narrowed his eyes at me. “Is there something I need to know about, Ms. Amador? Withholding crucial evidence that could lead to a conviction is just as big a crime as aiding those bastards.”
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t have time for twenty questions. Either arrest me or back off.”
We stared each other down for a while. He finished his cig and extinguished it on the banister, tossing it into the garbage can nearby. A thoughtful smoker. How nice.
“Enjoy your day, Ms. Amador,” Hughes said in a quiet but utterly firm voice. “I’ll see you again soon.”
He turned the corner and disappeared. Sadly, I knew what that was code for too: he was going to tail me for the rest of the day. Great. Like I didn’t have enough shit to deal with.
I waited until I was safely inside a cab before calling Myra. “Things just got infinitely more complicated.”
“How’s that even possible?” she asked, sounding as tired as I looked.
“I picked up a pigtail.”
Myra groaned loudly in my ear. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wish. He grilled me outside of my hotel room just now.”
“Is he one of Maurice’s men? Do you think your cover’s been blown?”
“No, he doesn’t read like a demon. I saw him when I went to deliver the shipment to the Columbian place. I think someone’s actually been trying to take them down on their side, but they don’t have the evidence to make a move. I’m new in town, so maybe he wanted to get the jump on me and see if I’d roll on Maurice.”
“Fantastic. That means he’s following you. So where are you gonna go?”
“I’m going to try to give him the slip at the mall. If I manage to pull that off, I’ll call you when I’m on the way so we can finish up the You-Know-What.”
“Good luck. If the guy’s with vice, they are pretty damn good at tailing people. Don’t underestimate him. Be careful, and don’t be surprised if he’s got a partner.”
“I’ll do my best. Bye.” I sighed, hung up, and then told the cab driver the address.
And today began with such promise.
For the record, there wasn’t really a manual to teach you how to ditch a tail. My life operated in the shadows and I knew how to ditch a demon—mainly because it involved cornering them and murdering the shit out of them—but I hadn’t ever needed to get rid of a nosy cop before. Sure, I’d watched a bunch of movies in my time, but that didn’t mean I knew how to do it. I’d have to go the Batman Begins route: theatricality and deception. Who says movies don’t teach you anything?
There were a lot of malls in the city of Houston, Texas. I’d just picked the one I’d seen on the way into town: the Galleria Mall on Westheimer Road. It was enormous and gave me plenty of opportunities to possibly lose the cop. I wanted to do it quickly, in case Maurice was having me followed too. If they saw me anywhere near a policeman, the plan tonight was finished and we’d have no chance at rescuing their hostages.
The cab dropped me off. I walked inside in search of a good place to switch out my clothing. Hughes would have mentally memorized what I’d been wearing and so changing my outfit would give me an advantage. Plus, at least I could get rid of the dirty money Maurice had given me. I’d hated accepting it, but now I could put it to good use.
I stopped in the Ralph Lauren store and bought a nice burgundy floral-patterned dress, leggings, ankle boots, a hat, and sunglasses. I bound my hair in a bun and tucked it beneath the hat and threw some jewelry on for good measure. It cost a pretty penny for the get up, but I looked nothing like myself. They gave me a bag to put my old clothes in and then I left the store. Naturally, like any good detective, I didn’t see him anywhere outside of the store, but my gut told me he hadn’t lost me yet, so I headed further into the labyrinth of the mall.
I headed towards the central atrium of the mall and turned down one of the longer halls and got on the escalator. I glanced behind me, trying to be as subtle about it as possible, as I rode above the level of the crowd. He wasn’t on the escalator behind me or in the main part of the hallway. Just as I reached the top, I spotted a glimpse of him at the corner where I’d turned into this part of the mall. He hadn’t walked around it yet, but I could see his reflection in the window of the storefront across from where he stood. I had a good bit of a lead on him, unless he knew something I didn’t, which was entirely possible. Myra had mentioned a partner. I’d have to be on the lookout.
I went to the nearest bathroom after I reached the second level, waited a solid ten minutes, and then poked my head out. There were a couple of parents waiting for their little ones in the hallway, but no one else so far. I checked to see who was within view of the bathroom hallway across and to the side of the entrance. No Hughes. However, I saw a skinny black-haired teenager who was pretending to use his phone glance right at me quickly and then move aside.
Alarm bells rang in my head. Cops didn’t use teens, not when they were scoping out a criminal. What the hell was that kid’s story?
I left the bathroom hallway and did another sweep of what I could see as I headed towards one of the department stores. Still no Hughes. Either he’d blended in really well or I’d gotten the drop on him. Something told me it wouldn’t be that easy.
I ducked into the ladies fitting room of the Macy’s and waited yet again. Once the busy period cleared up and there weren’t any women left inside, I inched my way over towards the exit and listened in. Sure enough, I heard two male voices.
“You want to tell me what you’re doing following her?” Hughes said, his voice edged with annoyance.
“Oh, of course. None of your fucking business.”
“The badge makes it my business, kid. Kick rocks.”
“Boy, you guys are something special, aren’t ya? I never did figure out why the Master didn’t tell us to just wipe you all out. Maybe we lost the first war, but I doubt we’d lose a second one.”
I paled. Oh no. Please don’t let that mean what I think it means.
“Look, either you make tracks or I’ll let you sit in holding downtown for the rest of the day. Your choice.”
I heard the teenager snicker. “Try me.”
“Your funeral.”
Hughes was a pain-in-the-ass, but I wasn’t about to let some punk demon shank him. I stepped out of the fitting room right in front of Hughes, narrowing my eyes at the teenager.
“Can I help you with something, kiddo?”
He was disturbingly thin and disturbingly tall, probably around 6’4”, with yellowed teeth from chain-smoking and short, jet-black hair that had been heavily oiled. He wore a Punisher t-shirt and baggy cargo pants, which let him blend in perfectly with the demographic he’d been going for. Demons often wore this disguise because it made normal people pay them no mind. No one would expect a seventeen-year-old to split a man in half.
He grinned at me, one hand in his pocket, probably palming the blade he’d been thinking about stabbing Hughes with. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, lady. I’m just waiting on my girlfriend.”
“Lucky girl,” I said. “Let me guess. Manolo and Alejandro want you to report in on my progress?”
“Never heard of ‘em.”
“Great. Then stop following me or you can join your buddy Ortega downstairs in the sauna.”
The grin faded slightly. I’d struck a nerve. He at least had an idea of who I was since the threat to send him back to Hell seemed to land.
“Lotta talk for such a little girl,” the demon said, and his voice came out so many octaves deeper that I heard Hughes stiffen behind me in surprise. He’d dropped the act, somewhat. “Feeling cocky since you got the Boy in Blue as your backup?”
“Not especially,” I said. “I’m trying to ditch him and you’re screwing it up for me.”
“Really,” he said, the disbelief clear. “So what if I tell Maurice you’re in bed with the cops? What do you think will happen?”
I kept my face blank. “Go ahead. But I’m pretty sure that’s counterproductive for your operation.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you should watch that tongue of yours. It’d make a great addition to my collection.”
Hughes put a hand on my arm and moved me aside. “Did you seriously just threaten her in front of me?”
The demon sent him a bored look. “Settle down, junior. The grownups are talking.”
Hughes glared. “Hands behind your back. Now.”
“Oh, happy day,” the demon said. “Finally, some action.”
“Stop!” I barked, shoving one hand against Hughes’ chest as he surged forward. “I don’t have time for this shit. You want a piece? Take it outside. If we cause an incident, all three of us get our covers blown.”
The demon growled. “The hell do I care?”
“You can’t report back if you’re dead or arrested for assaulting a cop and a civilian. Now either meet me outside to settle this or piss off.”
He glanced between me and Hughes for a moment. His hand was still in his pocket. If he went for it, I could probably get to Hughes’ gun after he went down and put one between the demon’s eyes before mall security arrived. My palms got clammy with sweat. Adrenaline made me hyper-attentive to every breath coming out of his nose, searching for a reason to eliminate him.
Finally, the demon snorted. “Not worth it. For now, anyway.”
He lumbered off towards the door, but then stopped, smiled, and pointed a finger-gun at Hughes. “Be seeing you, detective.”
He walked into the mall and out of sight. I exhaled and dropped my hand from Hughes’ chest finally.
“Goddamn, girl,” he growled when I faced him. “How deep are you in this shit?”
I offered him a weary smile. “You don’t wanna know. Nice work, by the way. I didn’t know he was following me until I had to start looking for you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with the utmost sarcasm. “Now will you listen to common sense?”
“I would if I had a choice, trust me. By the way, I’m sorry.”
He eyed me. “Sorry for what?”
“The headache you’re about to have.”
I punched him in the temple as hard as I could. He slumped to one side, unconscious. I caught him before he hit the floor, dragged him into the nearest fitting room stall, and closed the door. It wouldn’t take long for someone to find him, but I didn’t have a choice. I had lost too much time already.
Man, was he going to be pissed off when he woke up.
I took the back exit out of the Macy’s and hurried around to the nearest curb, called a cab, and drove off by the time I heard sirens in the distance.
Chapter Eight
I didn’t take the cab straight to Myra’s place. Once Hughes woke up, he’d get a team to call all the cab services and cross-reference them with eyewitness accounts until he figured out who picked me up from the mall, and then ask the cabbie where he took me. My gut said Hughes was good and scary when he was angry, so the cabbie would give me up in a heartbeat. Instead, I took the cab to a bus station not far from Myra’s neighborhood and then hoofed it all the way there, trying to keep a low profile. Mass transit meant that if Hughes did track me there, the people who would’ve seen me would be elsewhere by the time he came a-calling. With any luck, this whole nasty debacle would wrap up tonight and I’d be out of Houston for good. I had no desire to cross paths with him again.
As for the snotty teen demon, there was no sign of him after I left the mall. I checked my surroundings as thoroughly as possible and didn’t see hide nor hair of him. Maybe the warning had worked, or he finally learned to keep his distance like a professional. The latter seemed more likely. He’d probably reported back to Manolo or Alejandro and they berated him into staying out of my way until the dust cleared.
I used the spare key to open the door to Myra’s house and nearly tripped over Ace, who had been lying on the rug in the foyer like a good watchdog. He snarled at me. I snarled back. The hellhound rolled his burning red eyes and settled down again, his crimson gaze fixated on the door.
