| |
IN THE SILENCE SHE stretched out her senses, listening, and listening. But her heart wouldn’t settle, and her thoughts beat against the insides of her skull like a moth in a jar. She tried to take a deep breath, but it was hard to relax with her legs spread and her own juices dripping.
Evan had to be a telepath, too, that much was obvious. And Abby was here? His final words had made it sound as if he was going to get off with Abby’s assistance. So why had he been trying to seduce Wren in her dreams? Had Abby told him about her? If Evan had been wanting to meet her, why hadn’t Abby just called and asked her to come over and meet him?
Because, Wren thought, this situation was clearly highly fucked up. And Derek was asleep at home with his phone turned off. And her own was in her glove compartment.
She tried to imagine him, lying asleep in his bed, his hair over his eyes. She tried to imagine lying there next to him, dripping wet, stroking him to hardness, and then whispering to him, Derek. It’s time. I need you.
In her vision, his eyes opened and fixed on her, wide and slightly shocked.
“Okay, up you go.” It was Ramon, and he removed her blindfold. “Need you to see where you’re going.”
He undid her wrist straps and moved her into a sitting position, then bound her wrists together behind her back. She looked into his thoughts; he had no suspicion of anything wrong, anyway. It was fairly normal for him to tie people up and not to think much of it. He didn’t question the orders he had been given, and he was good with ropes. The thought that Wren might not have been a fully willing participant never even entered his mind. “Come on,” he said, and helped her to her feet. “Leave your shoes. Let’s go.”
Well, Wren thought, at least if I go along with this, I'll find out what the hell has been going on.
He marched her in front of him through the room, into another room and down a dimly lit hallway. There they met Evan, now wearing a leather jacket, with a bit of a grin on his face. He led the way down a set of stairs and Wren nearly stumbled, the sense of deja vu was so strong.
That first dream...? No, not a dream, the vision she’d had when she’d tried to use her sight to see Abby. The man with red hair and a leather jacket in front of her, her hands bound behind her.
She knew what was coming next. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she was pushed to her knees, but she bowed her head and kept her teeth clenched tight. Looking straight down she could see the grimy blue shag carpet and not much else.
Someone gasped. Wren looked up and there was Abby, one hand over her mouth, looking very wan and frail. Her hair had grown long and it was tangled, and she was wearing a corset like Wren had seen the women who worked at the club wearing, just the tiniest bit of skirt ruffle around the edges, making it obvious she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Regret poured off Abby in waves. Wren didn’t dare open her mouth to say anything, though.
“Oh, Wren, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
Evan stepped between them. “Family reunion later, eh?”
Abby sank to the floor and was silent. Wren dared a glance at the other people in the room. She blinked in shock as she recognized the man standing off to one side, not from a dream, but from her front stoop. The "voter registration" canvasser. “Steve?” she said, too startled to remember to keep her mouth closed.
“Er, yeah, sorry about that,” he stammered. “But... well... you didn’t come to the coffee shop. But we had to meet somehow. And just seeing each other should have been enough.”
Evan put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Indeed, it should have been, but there are things beyond our understanding. Even if you didn’t feel the legendary pull, the meld should still work.”
Steve turned crimson. “Oh, I felt it. It just... seems that she didn’t.”
Evan patted him soothingly. “Get undressed. It'll be easier. Ramon, help her out of that skirt.”
Wren stood and Ramon wrestled her out of her skirt and the rags of her underwear. Her blouse was now around her wrists with the bindings, her nipples standing out proud and hard. Ramon kissed the back of her neck and his fingers parted the short hair where her birthmark was. “Check it out.”
“Yes, the heart. Perfect,” Evan said as he looked at it, then helped Ramon move her to a wide, low bed against one cinderblock wall. They propped up a pile of pillows, and then lay her face down over them, so that her ass was in the air.
“What’s a meld?” Wren asked. “Do my hands really have to be tied for this?”
Abby was there by her head. “It'll be really, really good, Wren,” she was saying in a low voice. “The most amazing sex ever. It’s like the best high in the world. It'll feel better than any sex you’ve ever had. You'll see God.”
“And the future,” said Evan from her other side with a chuckle. “I could care less about God. But yes, Wren, we'll keep you tied until we’re sure we can trust you.”
She felt a pair of clammy hands on her buttocks. “Um, wow,” said Steve.
Abby stroked her hair. “Steve’s a heart, too, Wren. With you two together, since you’re both seers, it'll be... amazing. It'll be like the purest love, the purest sex ever.”
But then she heard Evan's voice in her mind. Your sister is so very refreshing. I think that’s what attracted me to her in the first place. I’m just going to have Steve fuck your cunt. That is the most powerful of the joinings for sight, and it won’t disturb your sister overmuch. But I would so very much love to see every hole of yours filled, Wren. There are three of us here, after all. One of us could take your mouth, while one took your ass, and the third your cunt.
Wren shivered with desire, the wanton creature that she was in her dreams seeming to come to life in her skin at that moment. But she kept her wits about her. Intellectually speaking, she wanted Steve even less than she had wanted Evan, and again she thought of Derek, wondering where he was, if he was still asleep.
She felt their weights shifting on the bed. Someone was touching her clit now. Evan. She could feel him in her mind like a pair of arms holding her. “Ramon, link with me, and read how close to orgasm Steve is. I'll read Wren.”
“Hey!” Steve’s voice rose in feeble protest. “Evan, does he have to touch me for that? Can’t I jerk myself off while he reads me?”
Wren felt a wave of long-suffering tolerance roil through Evan. He felt sorry for Steve, and a touch of affection, but mostly he found him irritating. But he was a good seer, and very loyal, if very uptight about sexual things, especially anything that could be deemed homoerotic. “Very well,” he acceded. “Ramon, just put a hand on his shoulder to make sure you get a good read.”
“Fine with me,” Ramon said, and she could feel the mutual disgust between Ramon and Steve. Both of them were so very heterosexual.
“The orgasms must be simultaneous for this to work,” Evan reminded them. And then they fell silent, as they each began reading whom they needed to.
And Wren read them. Abby was thinking that she hoped Wren having sex with Steve would be as amazing for her as having sex with Evan was, even though Steve wasn’t the same kind of telepath. He was just a seer; he couldn’t talk with his mind like Evan could. Nearly all Abby’s thoughts were of having sex with Evan, Wren found, as if that one subject had completely taken up her mind.
Evan was thinking about Wren, about how strange it had been to seduce her through dreams, about how he hadn’t expected to get so attached, to feel so possessive. But it was Steve who had to fuck her for Evan's plans to come to fruition. He had very specific plans of what to do with the information they were about to glean. Wren saw a glimpse of his dreams of riches, of influence. The heart-to-heart meld, seer-to-seer would give him a clear view of market futures and political outcomes that would ensure the future for him and his people.
All Ramon was thinking was Thank God I don’t have to touch Steve’s dick.
Steve’s thoughts were of the stock market, about some very confusing financial stuff that Wren couldn’t really understand in the state she was in. It was odd, because through it all, she could feel Steve pulsing like a primal ball of lust, too. She wondered when he had last had sex, if ever. She delved a little deeper.
Shy. Not many close friends. Trouble with intimacy. A childhood that felt a lot like her own. Hiding his ability while at the same time doubting it was even real. And then meeting Evan and learning it was real and everything changing...
“He’s getting close,” Ramon said out loud.
And suddenly Wren knew what she had to do to buy time. She wrapped her own mind around the pulsing ball of need that was Steve and squeezed as hard as she could.
“Oh, fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” Steve shouted as he came all over his own hand.
The flare of anger from Evan was so hot, Wren cringed from it.
“You moron,” Ramon said, shaking his head.
Evan sighed, anger ebbing away and replaced with a spiky irritation. “I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way, then.”
Abby sounded angry when she said, "Like this is easy? Evan, this isn’t what we discussed...”
“Shut up, please, Abby.” He ground his teeth in frustration. “I’ve been trying to respect everyone’s needs here, but let’s not forget we have a goal, hm?” But Wren could feel the secret glee in Evan as he proposed his new plan. “Technically Steve doesn’t have to fuck her, though that would be the most powerful way. His flaccid cock in her mouth would be sufficient, and I can make him come at the proper time.”
Ramon sounded impressed. “You can? Shit, I didn’t know that.”
“It’s a rare talent, and one I only tend to share with my favorites, like Abby here.”
Wren could feel the warmth of his approval sinking through Abby’s skin. Her stomach turned a little, both at the thought that Evan was going to make Steve come in her mouth, and that Abby was addicted to him.
God, was Derek addicted to Wren’s ability to do that?
Her attention switched quickly back to the present situation, though, as she felt Evan's touch in her mind, as he began to read her.
“I'll make Wren come the old fashioned way,” Evan was saying. But then his voice was there in her mind again. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for the longest time. I can make it pleasure like you’ve never known.
Pleasure so good I could get addicted to it? Wren answered. No, thanks.
Abby told me you were practically a virgin, that you were inexperienced. He was shifting his position, orchestrating the movements of the others to turn Wren over so Steve could get at her mouth, and to spread her legs for him. Ramon re-bound her hands above her head, stretched up and tied to the head of the bed somehow.
I was. But I’ve met someone.
Ahhh. That explains much. Falling in love will make you resistant to the pull of heart-to-heart, seer-to-seer. At least for a little while. If you’d met Steve while you were single, you would have thought you’d found your soul mate.
Then why all the seductive dreams?
To arouse you, to make you mentally ready and emotionally hungry for sex, so that when you met Steve you’d be ripe for the plucking. Ah, I see what you’re thinking. You’re wondering if you might not have been so attracted to your man if I had not been interfering in your dreams. If that’s so, Wren, then maybe you’re not so in love with him after all. Maybe it’s really me you’ve been craving all along. She felt the warmth of his breath through her pubic hair.
Her mind rebelled against that idea, that how much she desired Derek was anything but her own will.
Is it such a far-fetched idea? I snatched it out of your own head, after all.
Wren wrestled with the thought. Was that why it had felt so right with Derek, why she had been so insatiable? Was it really Evan's doing and not her natural attraction to Derek at all?
What about Abby? Won’t she be jealous if you fuck me?
Abby has seen me fuck many women in the club upstairs. After all, that’s where I met her. His tongue was warm velvet on her clit which twitched as she remembered what it felt like to have the silken head of his cock rubbing at that spot.
Yes, but I’m her sister.
And you think this will make a difference to her?
Yes. I’m sure it will.
Because you’re the big sister she was always jealous of?
I suppose so.
Perhaps that’s because you’re worthy of envy, Wren. You’re far superior to her in so many ways.
Except I’m not.
You’re wrong. You’re exceptional and it only makes me want you even more. He slipped a finger into her as he pulled back his tongue and sucked on her clit. I’m not a heart like Steve. I’m a diamond, and a diamond's soul mate is a rare gem indeed.
I’m resisting you. That’s the only reason you want me so badly.
Your body doesn’t seem to be resisting.
Wren tried to pull her knees together, but her ankles had been bound toward the corners of the bed. Damn it, I don’t want you, Evan.
You know you cannot lie with your mind, right?
I don’t! But even as she thought it, she could see it was a lie. She wanted Evan at a level deeper than thought. She didn’t want to want him, but she did. She wanted to break free of the cocoon she had been in all her life, to be as free as the butterfly, set free by desire, cut loose by the knife of his cock.
And yet. Well, I don’t want to meld with Steve, whatever that is.
The meld will not hurt you, Wren. It'll feel good. You'll see incredible things. Your power is real. And I can teach you how to use it.
But Wren tried to shove away the seductive thought. You’re still getting off on the fact that I’m trying to push you away.
You are right. When my mind is this open, I cannot hide it. You have unmasked me. The more you fight, the more you reject the idea that I am going to take you, the harder I become, the more electrifying it will be when I finally penetrate you. But you must not think ill of me for it. No man, not even one with iron will, could resist you like this. “Steve.”
The man straddled her chest and with her eyes closed, Wren felt something cold and slimy against her lips. His cock, still spunky from having come. She spat and turned her head.
Come now, Wren. Steve’s an innocent like you. I promised him a soul mate in you. I had no idea you’d met someone, and as it is, if things don’t work out with your man, you might yet find yourself helplessly drawn to Steve. That will make me insanely jealous, but... he has been loyal. It would be your choice.
She opened her mouth reluctantly and Steve pushed his cock in, squishy and soft and bitter with come.
My choice, you say. If I do this for you, this meld, and you get what you want, will you leave me alone after that? Wren’s hips bucked as his finger slid into her again. Will you promise to take care of Abby?
Wren, you are in no position to bargain with me. You already know I am getting off on your reluctance. Don’t give me a reason to force you.
What would it be worth to you? For you to promise to take care of Abby, and for you not to fuck me. I'll do this meld for you, and what else?
You are a persistent one. Trying to save yourself for your boyfriend, is that it? Does it feel disloyal to fuck me and to know how much you'll enjoy it?
Yes, yes it does. It wasn’t really possible to lie about that, either. This was her dream lover, after all, pushing her closer and closer to orgasm, each press of his finger into her making her moan and her lower half convulse.
I'll tell you what I'll do then, Wren. I'll respect your wish to leave your cunt alone, but I'll take your ass instead. You'll meld with Steve. I make no promises about Abby. She’s her own woman, and our relationship is not for you to judge.
You self-righteous asshole. Then she gasped as he shifted his mouth lower and began to tease at her anus with the tip of his tongue. It’s a deal.
Very good. Now, remember that you agreed to this. If you become so fixated on anal pleasure after this that you can never get the smell of shit out of his sheets, it will be your own fault and not mine.
The next thing she felt was his finger, but it was chilled and slimy as it penetrated her asshole. He was using some kind of lube. He pulled out and came back again, with more of the cold, slippery, stuff. Wren had never, ever touched herself there and was surprised to find it similar to being penetrated vaginally. It was different, and yet it wasn’t. As he began to piston his fingers in and out of her, accustoming her to the sensation, she gasped. It felt good.
I told you. It’s all sex. Any part of me penetrating any part of you. And it will all feel good.
Steve’s penis in my mouth isn’t very sexy and doesn’t feel particularly good.
Another sign that perhaps, despite you both being hearts, you may not be that compatible. Whereas you and I... can you feel that heat? That spark?
Indeed, each time his fingers—two of them together now—curved into her, she felt sparks of desire shoot from her center to her extremities.
Maybe we are meant for each other, Wren...
Her only answer was a moan, as the fingers inside her felt more and more as if they were stroking her clit. So strange, but her clit was definitely swollen as if it were being touched. She supposed perhaps it was being touched from the other side.
Evan made a low, hungry sound, like some predator with his jaws around his prey. You are incredible. I think you might be able to come just from this. Let’s see how you feel with my cock instead.
Wren couldn’t help it. She held her breath, as the blunt, spongy head of Evan's cock rubbed against her pucker. Impossibly large, there was no way it could fit...
She cried out as it breached her, the pain a strange, dull one that only made her clit throb harder. And then as he moved, seating himself deeper, the pain disappeared entirely, replaced with an even stranger sense of completion.
Wren opened her eyes and looked up at Steve. His head was tilted back, and Evan's hands were on his shoulders.
Suck him a bit, Wren. I assure you he'll be more palatable if he’s hard.
She moved her tongue, her lips, fellating him until she felt it stirring, blood rushing hot to the organ, and a salty ooze of pre-come slicked her tongue.
That’s it. Be loving.
Steve moaned above her. In his head, she could see he was sinking into a kind of trance, the visions of numbers and stock symbols sharpening.
I know I’m far from the world's most virtuous man, Evan thought, but I do try to love those around me. Don’t be afraid to love, Wren. Too many people with our gifts are. They have sensed or experienced too much of the negative emotions in the world, leaving them too scarred to love. We belong among our own kind.
Wren’s own thoughts were no longer as coherent as words, but she could grasp the grandeur of his dream. This was just the first step to building a haven for telepaths. They needed money, and influence, real estate, and freedom... and Evan's cock moving inside her was an overwhelming sensory experience. It was stimulation like she’d never known. Were her own powers being driven to new heights as her arousal was? The hard flesh parting hers seemed to push at things inside her, in her heart, in her head, nerves all over her body firing and glowing.
She imagined it was Derek, then, that it was Derek’s cock plunging into her, Derek’s hands that gripped her hipbones so hard it was going to leave a bruise. Derek, Derek, Derek....
Oh, you fucking bitch! She could feel how wounded Evan felt, that she was imagining another man. He fucked her harder, pouring his anger into each thrust, but it just felt better and better, pushing her higher and higher.
As the orgasm hit her, the bitter flood of Steve’s come coated her tongue and she gagged, coughing and choking, but it seemed like it was happening very far away. She felt hands lifting her, moving her, the star of Steve’s orgasm burning bright in her mind...
Derek. She could see him in the parking lot, talking with someone else, a man... someone... but the moment she touched his mind, his words died away.
Wren!
I’m here. I’m in the basement of the club. Abby’s here, too.
She felt him put his hand on the roof of the SUV, as lust, sudden and consuming, swept through him. She could feel the pulse of his blood in his cock, as he went from flaccid to straining in a matter of heartbeats. Wren... are you being held captive?
Not really. I think they'll let me go after this... Then an aftershock of orgasm hit her, and drew her attention back to her body. She was sitting up now, Ramon behind her, hands cupping her breasts, while Steve lapped at her clit. And Evan was on the bed beside her, Abby writhing under him, as he thrust so hard Abby’s head nearly hit the headboard behind them. Derek... I need you.
God, Wren. You... you make me feel...
I know. Wait a moment...
She let herself go, another orgasm shaking her, even as she used the peak of her power to plunder her sister's mind, to answer the questions crowding her own thoughts.
Oh, shit, that’s what I was afraid of. She pushed the knowledge at Derek without words, that the club was run by a telepath. Since he needed sex to trigger his powers, a sex club was a useful front. But some women got addicted to sex with him. Abby had been one of them, but she was still functional. But there were others who were not so lucky, who basically lay in a haze of lust day after day. They kept them hidden, locked away in another part of the cellar. Only Evan and Abby knew the truth about them and otherwise they really didn’t know what to do other than to keep them hidden. Only the promise that Evan would come and "feed" them would convince them to eat.
Helena Riggs was one of them. She’d had to be restrained after she had masturbated so much she’d damaged herself...
Wren! I’m coming for you.
No! Derek, call the police! I'll be okay!
But her connection to his thoughts went fuzzy, as if his emotions overwhelmed reason. Anger, hurt, jealousy, rage, protectiveness, fear... she felt all of these things tangle in him before she lost her hold.
And now her attention returned to the people around her. Evan was still fucking Abby hard, and Abby cried out and clung to him in what was obviously the throes of orgasm. As she went limp, he kept on, though, pushing and pushing. Abby convulsed suddenly, crying out again in surprise, and Wren knew he was making her come with his mind.
But still, he had not come himself. Wren wondered how many times Abby had come while Wren had not been paying attention.
“Oh, God, Evan...” Abby could barely choke out the words. Wren listened for her thoughts. I don’t think I can take another one.
But you will, won’t you, my sweet? You wouldn’t want to leave me unsatisfied, would you? That would be far from fair.
But Evan, God... I don’t know if I can.
You can. The last time I fucked you with fewer than twelve orgasms, you complained it hadn’t been enough for you.
I just want you to come, Abby pleaded. I need to feel you come with me! Don’t make me come again if you’re not there yet...
Ah, but that is the trouble, my sweet. I am trying. Between Helena, and you, and the others, it takes a greater and greater extreme of sensation to get me off.
Abby reached up then and pinched his nipples hard. Evan responded with a growl, throwing her into the throes of orgasm again. It seemed to Wren that this one went on longer than the others, and at the end of it, Abby’s mouth was slack, her eyes rolled up in her head.
Wren kicked at Steve, forcing him to move his head as she put one hand on Evan, one on Abby, and pushed. But as she did, Steve slid his fingers inside her, and quite suddenly, all five of them were coming, Ramon in hot spurts against her back, Evan and Abby together, and Steve with a surprised bellow, only a tiny issue coming from his cock after three orgasms in such a short interval.
And Wren herself was flung out of her body entirely, floating above the scene.
Evan recovered himself first. “Well,” he said, as he gestured to the others to rouse themselves and help him move the unconscious Abby, and Wren, too. “That was certainly a surprise. It seems there’s more to Wren Delacourt than just being a seer.”
“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “Do you think she was reading us, too?”
Evan clucked his tongue. “And even if she was? Steve, you know we have nothing to hide. I plan to tell her of my goals to create a safe haven for people like us as soon as she wakes. Now if you and Ramon could help move them, I’d be grateful. Put Abby in her room. Ramon, put Wren in my bed for now, and then send one of the girls to clean up down here.”
She followed her body, as Ramon carried her easily through a doorway, down a hall, through a heavier door, and eventually into another room. This was clearly where Evan lived. There was laundry on the floor near a basket, books scattered over the side table, a clothes dresser covered with knickknacks. The small lamp on the bedside table was the only light.
She looked down at herself, naked, debauched, her lips swollen red and her thighs sticky. Ramon threw a blanket over her and left.
Out-of-body experiences were one of those things she’d heard about, but never experienced. She racked her brain trying to recall if she’d ever heard a story that included how the experience ended. She tried to touch herself, but she didn’t really have arms to reach with—those were on her body.
Duh. I should have guessed that.
Wren was a bit worried to just leave her body there, but she had to know what was happening to Derek. Was he upstairs trying to argue his way in? Or just fight his way in? Her last glimpse of his mind had shown such turmoil.
And could she even drift away from her body, direct her movements as a spirit, or whatever she was? She tried to feel for Derek again, but her body was utterly sated and her power was weak.
But she could move. Her consciousness floated up through the floor, and she found herself in the women's dressing room. There was Suzanne, looking at herself in the mirror and chatting with another woman there. They were both wearing something that looked like circus costumes, with feathers on their heads and... oh. Wren finally figured out they were dressed like circus ponies, with small saddles on and reins trailing down each of their backs.
She moved through the doors into the lounge area. There was Derek! He was in his cowboy outfit and he was talking with Bob, who was in a lion tamer's getup. Their heads were leaning close together. She could not hear what they were saying because she didn’t have ears, though. She focused on Derek. Couldn’t she read him if she really tried...?
The next thing she knew, she was looking at Bob's serious expression. Through Derek’s eyes. And now she could hear what they were saying. “I understand your worry. If she came here alone and now you don’t see her, it’s natural to worry. You said you talked to her, though?”
“Well, she called me,” Derek said, a little white lie since she hadn’t "called" him using her cell phone. “But we got cut off. She was telling me she was okay, but that she thought there might be women who were here against their will. She was trying to tell me something about addicts.”
Bob shook his head. “I haven’t seen any hint of junkies around here, but if they hide it real well... I don’t know, Derek. They seem to run a nice, clean club, and I’d hate to see it busted up by the police over a misunderstanding or a miscommunication, you know? If they’re, like, drugging women into being prostitutes or something, more power to you if you break that kind of thing up, but...”
“Yeah, I know.” Derek shifted uneasily. “She just sounded... kind of upset, you know? And then we got cut off.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we brought Charlene with us tonight so we could get you in. I think we ought to have a look around and see what we can see. Maybe you'll meet up with Wren and find out everything's okay after all.”
Derek swallowed his skepticism. There was so much he couldn’t tell Bob, and that weighed on him. He scanned the room, which was much more crowded than the previous week. Lots of people had chosen gladiator and serving-girl kinds of costumes, along with a latex-clad nurse, and one Tarzan and Jane. “All right. We'll have a look around, but if I find anything wrong, just so you know, I’m calling the police.”
The two men moved to greet Suzanne and Charlene then, and Wren felt a surge of jealousy as Derek put his arm loosely around Charlene’s shoulders. The group made their way into the next room, but the dancer on the stage didn’t hold Derek’s interest even a little, and Charlene happily trotted ahead of him as he held onto her reins.
The next room already had people in it. Derek was trying not to stare, but the walls were lined with beds like a hospital ward, and there were couples fucking on about half of them. Wren wondered if it were Derek’s thought or her own: God, that man's ass is hairy.
“What’s beyond this room?” Derek whispered to Charlene.
“Come on, it gets kinky after this,” she whispered back. She led the way through another door, this one also painted with the vine motif, but with more leaves and the flower at the top was beginning to open. The next room had what looked like a gynecologist’s table, a massage table, and some other odd platforms in it, with one couple already at play. The male partner had laid out an assortment of dildos and things alongside the exam table, and several of them were glistening wet. Two other couples were watching as he moved his arm, clearly pistoning back and forth in an unmistakable motion. Derek drifted closer and Wren shared his shock as he realized the man's entire hand had gone into her. His wrist disappeared where her body began.
God, you see? Surely your cock isn’t that big, Wren said inside his head. And I’m not made of glass!
There was no indication that he had heard.
There were two more doors, one that Charlene indicated went to the women-only area, and the final one, where the flower on the door had fully bloomed.
They went through to find the room painted mostly black. Here, there were no beds, but there were what looked like medieval torture racks, and the massage table had ropes tied to its legs. The room was empty.
“You have to bring your own whips and chains,” Charlene explained, "if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Er, I’m not,” Derek said. “Just curious. Thanks for taking me through here.”
They went back to the room where the man was fisting his partner. She was whooping with joy— shouting "oh yeah!”—and Wren could feel Derek couldn’t hold back a grin. He looked at the door to the women-only space.
“You think anyone’s in there?” he asked Charlene in a whisper.
“Dunno, you want to see? I'll look first.” She giggled and slipped into the room. A moment later she came back out. “Nope, clear as a whistle.”
His grin got wider. Everyone’s attention was riveted on the woman and her husband, even the one woman who was corseted like an employee.
“I'll just take a peek,” he whispered. “You watch the show here, and if I get caught, you won’t get in trouble.”
Wren’s jealousy spiked again when the woman's answer was to stroke a hand along his cheek with an "aw shucks" expression on her face. But then Derek was on the move. He was thinking that the women-only room probably had a door on its far wall that would possibly connect up with the stage door that the dancer had entered through back in that very first room after the lounge.
He walked quickly through the mostly pink and yellow-colored room, the sheets thrown over the couches in here done in bright flowered patterns. Yes, there was a curtain, and behind it, a door. He went through it and found himself in a dimly lit service hallway. Wren recognized it and it seemed as she got more excited, so did he. She urged him to find the stairs down. Soon, he had made his way down to the room where "the orgy"—as Wren now thought of it—had taken place.
He ducked under the stairs suddenly as voices came into earshot.
“Honestly, Ramon, I don’t know. I have no doubt you’re a spade, but something's blocking you from letting loose your power.”
“It’s just scary, you know? I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
“And you won’t. Your ability would only be used to protect those important to us—you know that, right?”
“It’s still scary...”
“I know.”
Their voices faded as they went up the stairs, and Wren could feel Derek putting the facts together. Was Councilman Riggs considered a threat to them? Was that why he was in a coma now?
Wren tried to remember where her body was lying, tried to lead him toward it. Yes, through the heavy door, it was beyond that.
Derek’s attention was drawn by a door along the hall, though, that had a padlock on the outside. It was a fairly normal-looking door, but the padlock and hasp had clearly been added later, the screws and latch not quite fitting the door frame and the hasp bent so that the lock would fit. There was light coming from under the door. Why would a locked store room have a light on?
His heart was hammering as he thought about what Wren had told him. Could Mrs. Riggs be behind this door?
He knocked on the door. “Hello?”
A female voice was suddenly close by the door, a hand rattling the knob. “Evan? Is that you?”
“Helena Riggs?” Derek called.
“Oh my God, yes, who are you? Ramon? What’s going on? Evan said he was going to come and see me tonight, but he hasn’t been by.” She rattled the doorknob again.
“Um, please just hang tight, Helena,” he said, wondering if it was a good idea to try to let her out, or if Stockholm Syndrome would complicate matters too much. It might just be best to let the police find her like this...? She might still argue that it was all a kinky sex game, she wasn’t really "kidnapped"...
Derek leaned against the doorframe, considering. And what if it really was all a kinky sex game? It wasn’t a police matter if a woman left her husband for something more exciting. But if the relationship was truly abusive? Addictive? Derek couldn’t imagine a relationship where being locked in a room all the time was desirable. But he’d seen the "dungeon" upstairs, and clearly there were things he didn’t fathom.
Wren tugged frantically at him, trying to get him to move. She was so close to him now, she wanted him to find her!
His feet finally moved, as he realized he might have limited time before he was discovered. He tried the next door down, which was not locked from the outside.
Nor from the inside. He was startled to find a woman lying on a bed, on top of the bedspread as if someone else had laid her there. That’s Abby! Wren tried to tell him, but once again it didn’t seem he had heard. A quick glance made it look as if she was living in the room, clothes hanging on a rack, books piled by the bed, a poster of a Dali landscape taped to the wall above the bed. She stirred and sat up.
Recognition washed through him like a swallow of wine. This was either Abby, or the woman he’d seen that had made him think she was here. “Abby Delacourt?”
“Yeah,” she said tiredly. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m your sister's boyfriend,” he said without hesitation. With conviction and passion. Suddenly Wren felt as if she were spinning. “She’s been worried sick about you.”
Abby’s face crumpled with guilt. “Oh God. I would have called her, but Evan wanted to try to get her and Steve together, and I would have just messed that up. And Evan doesn’t like me going out too much...”
Derek waved a hand. “Do you know where Wren is? I’m here to get her out. If you want to stay, that’s up to you.”
Abby’s guilty look only deepened. “Um, she’s... probably around here somewhere.” She stood up and pulled on a robe, blushing a little. “Come on.”
Abby led him to Evan's door. She knocked. “Evan, you in there?”
He’s not here! Only I’m here! God, this out-of-body stuff was frustrating.
Abby turned the knob and the door opened easily. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Here she is.”
Derek hurried to Wren’s side. Abby shifted from foot to foot. “I'll just leave you two alone, how about that?” she said hurriedly, then fled, closing the door behind her. A rattling sound drew Derek’s attention, though, and he hurried to the door, only to find it locked from the outside.