Strangers of the Night

  She tossed it in the trash.

  She went to her bed and slipped beneath the sheets naked, knowing already that no matter how much she tried, she was not going to be able to get enough rest. For that she needed to be worn out from fucking, orgasm after orgasm, and that would require leaving her apartment and trying to find a pickup, and while it wasn’t impossible, it didn’t seem likely to be easy at nine in the morning.

  Persephone closed her eyes. Her hands moved over her body, finding all the secret places that brought her pleasure. It wasn’t working, not easily. Not the way another person’s touch would have worked.

  Not the way Kane touched her.

  * * *

  His hands move over her hips, fingers digging a little into the flesh as he pulls her a little closer to the edge of the bed. Her knees skid on the soft hotel sheets. Her fingers, too. She is facedown, ass up, as the saying goes, and her breath comes swift and rasping in her throat as she opens herself to him.

  He’s a bit too tall to enter her from behind, but when his thick cock slides inside her, it hits at the perfect angle to make her cry out. Her cheek presses the mattress. Her mouth open, lips wet from the tip of her tongue.

  Earlier he kissed her hard enough to bring the taste of blood, and it was this roughness that she thinks of now as he fucks into her. His fingers squeeze her harder. One of his hands slips around to stroke her clit in time with every thrust. It’s exactly what she needs, exactly where she needs it.

  It’s even better when he starts to talk. Urging her in that low, growling voice to let him make her feel good. To give her body to him. He demands her pleasure, and this urges her body to respond exactly in the way he’s asking her for.

  Muscles tense, tight, her thighs shake as her hips buck. He fucks deeper into her, but not faster. Each stroke of his cock inside her heat is echoed by the circling of his fingers on her clit. Ecstasy builds inside her. Higher and higher, until, finally, she explodes.

  * * *

  Quivering in the aftermath of her orgasm, Persephone let out a small moan and buried her face in her pillow. She’d been thinking of the last time she’d seduced Kane. Of all the men she’d slept with in her life, why was it this man was the one her mind turned to when she needed sexual release?

  It was dangerous, she thought as her eyes drifted closed. And she was drawn toward danger, always. She strained toward sleep. Kane was dangerous to her, because she liked him.

  Chapter 2

  Kane Dennis hadn’t fallen off the turnip truck yesterday, as the saying went. Not that Kane ever said it, not aloud. It was something his grandfather, the man who’d raised him, would’ve been likely to say, though, and in situations like these it seemed appropriate.

  Persephone from the basement apartment was hiding something. It was in the way she rarely met his gaze, even when he caught her staring. It was something in her posture, how her head went up and back so straight every time she saw him, as though he’d surprised her into a fight-or-flight reaction and she was just barely resisting the urge to either kick him in the junk or run away.

  The question was not, however, what she might be hiding, but why on earth he gave a damn. Whatever it was, it didn’t affect him in any way. In the beginning when he’d started getting that vibe from her, he’d been on the lookout for any signs of the usual—drug dealing, prostitution, fencing goods. Anything he would have found impossible to look beyond because it was going on literally right under his nose.

  There’d been none of that. Only the subtle, persistent feeling that she knew more about him than he could ever discover about her, and that was what had gotten under his skin like a sliver. That’s what he told himself, anyway. That it was curiosity. That she seemed interesting, a woman with stories to intrigue him, a woman who might not be repulsed by the ones he had to tell. It had nothing to do with her body, Kane told himself as he avoided the cranky elevator for the stairs, up a flight to his apartment directly above hers. Nothing to do with her soft strawberry blond hair, cut short to emphasize her giant dark brown eyes and the smooth expanse of her pale throat...

  Nothing to do with that at all, he told himself grimly as he went inside his own apartment and dumped his now cold coffee down the sink. How had bringing her a cup of coffee made him into an asshole? Or had it been the fact he’d had to ask her why she didn’t like him that had made the corners of her mouth turn down the way they had? Worse than that, what the fuck was wrong with him that seeing her clear discomfort and distaste only made him think about her more? We chase what runs from us, Grandpa Charles would’ve said, and Kane had to agree.

  Persephone Collins was running from him, and it drove him crazy with desire because he couldn’t figure out why.

  * * *

  “I’ll give you a hundred.” Chuck gave Persephone a glance over the rims of his reading glasses and shrugged at the sight of her disgruntled expression. “It’s the best I can do. Look, you know I can’t move this shit very fast. Bring me something I can actually sell, I’ll pay you more.”

  Persephone eyed the array of slightly less than brand-new cell phones and flash drives she’d brought him. She’d known it wasn’t likely Chuck would cross her palm with much more than a few pieces of silver, but for the past two weeks she’d kept her sticky fingers to herself—unless someone was foolish enough to walk away from their laptop or phone in a hotel lobby or a coffee shop long enough to get a refill.

  “They’re all wiped,” she pointed out. “Unlocked.”

  He shrugged again. “Yeah, yeah, but look, you can pick up a refurbed phone for pennies on the dollar anymore. In the box. With a charger.”

  Persephone frowned. “Fine, I’ll take the Benjamin.”

  It was better than nothing. She pocketed the cash and ducked out of the used electronics shop, glancing out of habit from side to side as she headed down the street. Chuck ran a mostly clean place, hadn’t been the target of any raids or anything like that, but you never knew. Maybe it was time to get out of the sticky-fingers game, she thought as she grabbed a bottle of water and a candy bar from the small newsstand on the corner—paying for it with cash from her pocket, not stealing it, although there’d been times in the past when she’d lifted food to keep from starving. She was well beyond that now.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she tore the wrapper from the candy. Chewing nougat and chocolate, she answered without looking at the name or number on the screen. Only one person was allowed to get through to her directly on this line.

  “What,” Persephone said. The liquid male chuckle tickled her eardrum through the distance, and she held the phone away from her face for a second before putting it directly against her mouth to amplify the chewing noises.

  “You’re disgusting,” Phoenix said.

  Persephone swallowed the bite of candy. “What do you want? Let me guess, you’ve run out of funds and you don’t have a sugar daddy or mama waiting in the wings.”

  “Cold, sister mine. So cold.”

  She pressed her lips together to fight off a smile. He was going to try to charm her, but damn it, she was mad. Phoenix had blown through town a few months ago and emptied her bank account by simply reaching into her brain and forcing her to give him the account numbers and passwords he’d then used to legitimately transfer all her funds to him. Sure, she could’ve taken it to the authorities, but that would’ve opened up investigations on her, and he’d known that.

  “I would’ve just given you the money, you know,” she said as she hopped the four concrete steps to the front door of her apartment building. “Why do you get to wipe me out?”

  Her brother’s chuckle went a little darker, enough to raise the hairs on the back of Persephone’s neck. Like she could ever forget that behind the laughter and jokes, the put-upon front of laziness and congeniality, her twin brother was as fucked-up as she was. Perhaps more, be
cause Persephone liked to tell herself she maintained some level of morality, no matter how gray, and Phoenix had no such pretense.

  “Because I knew you’d be fine,” he said simply. “You always are.”

  “You don’t get to come back around into my life and make like you didn’t totally fuck me over.” Her tone was as cold as his. “What do you want?”

  “Can’t a baby brother check in with his big sister to make sure she’s all right?”

  Four minutes had passed between her entrance into this world and his. Persephone unlocked her door and went inside, closing it after her. She tossed her bag onto the couch.

  “Forgive me for assuming you have an ulterior motive,” she said. “I guess I’m just not a fucking idiot.”

  Phoenix burst into laughter that urged her to join him, although she kept herself from it. “No. I would never say that about you.”

  “What do you really want?”

  His laughter and his voice softened. “I really did want to make sure you’re all right. I wanted to make sure they hadn’t taken you.”

  “You would’ve known that right away, Phoenix. You didn’t have to call me.” Her voice was softer, too. She couldn’t feel the same connection to her brother that he had with her—Persephone’s talents affected other people’s perceptions, while Phoenix was able to actually manipulate them into action. No matter how far apart they were, he was always able to sense her, even if he couldn’t pinpoint her thoughts.

  “You felt upset a few times.”

  She flopped onto the couch and propped her feet on the table. “Everyone feels upset a few times.”

  “I never do.”

  “You don’t have to brag about it,” Persephone said. Phoenix could feel. He just didn’t do it the same way most people did. Then again, she thought, did anyone ever feel the same way anyone else did?

  “Are you okay?”

  “Nobody took me,” she said in a kinder tone. Maybe she had only four minutes on him, but that still made him her baby brother.

  Phoenix didn’t speak for a few seconds. “They took Leila.”

  “What?” Persephone sat up straight. “No. How do you know?”

  “She sent me an email telling me she thought someone had been watching her. Following her. Then nothing, for months. Yesterday she texted me that she was in a safe place. That she was happy there. That I should consider changing my mind.”

  Persephone fought a wave of guilt. She hadn’t talked to Leila in months, not since the last time they’d gone out dancing and drinking and picking up men. That wasn’t unusual. Leila could be difficult to be around, because she was constantly screwing up her life.

  “So...that’s not a bad thing,” Persephone said, thinking of the several times she’d felt like she was being watched. Nothing had happened in months. She still had Vadim’s number and the knowledge that she had a place with the group he worked for called the Crew. It wasn’t unbelievable that Leila might have taken him up on the offer. “She’s safe and happy.”

  Phoenix made a noise low in his throat. “Of course she would say that to throw off any suspicion. They took her, and they’ve brainwashed her.”

  “Phoenix...” Persephone sighed. “You can’t be sure. Did you text her back?”

  “And have them figure out where I am? No way. I’m not giving them the key to the castle. Fuck that.”

  Persephone thought a text was the least likely way anyone would ever be able to track them, but what did she know? “She said she was safe and happy. Don’t you think if they were really trying to lure you in that she’d have asked you for help, tried to trick you into going to her? I’m sure she’s okay, Phoenix.”

  “You think she went willingly? She allowed that guy to just take her in? You think she’s really all right with them?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “You wish you’d gone with him when he asked you to,” Phoenix accused in a flat voice.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t wish that. But I don’t worry that they’re going to come along and drag me off to lock me up somewhere. I believed him when he said I would have the choice. That you’d have a choice. You even said you didn’t feel anything in his head that meant he was lying.”

  Phoenix made another of those noises. “Not about that. About everything else, though. His whole head was a lie.”

  She sighed. “You know if you go to work for him it means room, board, salary. You know Leila was never able to get her shit together. If she went somewhere that helped her out, who are we to judge?”

  “You want to be someone’s pet?”

  “Of course not,” she told him, even as her thoughts flashed against her will to Kane, which was ridiculous since she didn’t want to be kept by any man. Especially not him.

  “Something’s going on with you. I’m not close enough to know it...”

  “I’m fine,” she said, her tone harsher. “And I’m still pissed at you.”

  “Nah, you’re not. I knew that before I called.” Her brother laughed. “But I have a mind to pay a visit, anyway.”

  “I don’t have room.”

  Phoenix snorted. “You’d make a place for me.”

  “On the floor,” she told him flatly. “On a set of jacks.”

  “You love me,” Phoenix told her calmly, which was the truth, of course, no matter what he’d done. “And I love you. I’m sorry I cleaned out your bank account. I put it all back, by the way. Plus some.”

  She wanted to ask him how he’d managed to do that, but he’d disconnected before she could. Shaking her head, Persephone tossed her phone onto the table and got up to head for the kitchen in search of a meal that would fill her belly better than a candy bar. She put a frozen pizza in the oven while she flipped open her laptop at the kitchen table and scrolled through her emails, searching for any from Leila. She found one from months before, updating Persephone about her latest series of misadventures. She hadn’t outright asked for money, but the subtext had been there.

  Frowning, Persephone did a quick search, but that was indeed the last time she’d heard from the younger woman. She sat back in her seat, thinking hard. No texts had come in from Leila, but she probably didn’t have Persephone’s direct number. Opening one of the apps she kept for sidelines, Persephone scrolled through requests for pictures of her feet, tribute photos from men who’d already sent in their financial donations without even waiting to hear if she was going to accept them, junk and scam emails.

  I decided to go with them, the message said. Tired of struggling. Want to be with people who understand. It’s good here. You’d like it. Text me.

  With a soft mutter, Persephone checked the date. Late yesterday afternoon, which meant she’d texted Phoenix first. That made sense. Leila had always liked him better. Most women did.

  It didn’t mean that Leila was in trouble, or that she’d been brainwashed the way Phoenix believed. The only way to find out would be to reply to Leila’s message and see what she said. Typing in a swift reply, Persephone hit Send and waited. It came a minute or so later.

  He is nothing like we were afraid of.

  You should come.

  Chapter 3

  “It would be nothing like Collins Creek.” The man who calls himself Vadim has a kind voice, although his eyes are a little scary. He smiles, but something in the rest of his face makes him feel dangerous. Or that he could be, anyway. If you pushed him too hard.

  “I don’t know why I should go anywhere with you,” Phoenix says belligerently with a toss of his long hair over his shoulders. He’s pushed his way between Vadim and Persephone. It’s a sweet gesture, but Persephone doubts it would do much good if Vadim really wanted to bring them harm.

  Vadim spreads open his fingers and shrugs. “I’m offering you a roof over your heads. Food
in your stomachs. Safety.”

  “Your safety sounds a lot like prison to me,” Phoenix says. “C’mon, Persephone. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait.” She puts her hand on her brother’s wrist. He shrugs off her touch with a scowl, but she ignores it. She focuses on Vadim. “Why? Why should we trust you? How did you find us?”

  “We’ve been tracking all the children from Collins Creek,” Vadim says. “So many of you have been lost, Persephone. So many of you we can’t help. But you and your brother...”

  “Fuck off,” Phoenix snarls. “Come on, Persephone. Let’s get out of here.”

  But she can’t. Not yet. They’ve been running too long. She’s hungry. She’s tired.

  “Where would we go?” she asks.

  Vadim smiles. This time it’s a little more believable. “We have facilities all over the world. Where would you like to go?”

  “What would we have to do?”

  “Work with us. That’s all. People with your unique skills are always valued in the Crew.”

  The Crew. The first time she heard the name, Persephone had laughed, thinking he must be joking. A group of people who investigate the strange and extraordinary has such a plain and unassuming name? It was ridiculous.

  “And if we decide we want to leave?”

  “It’s a contract. Like anything else. You’re free to leave according to the terms in the contract. We don’t keep anyone against their will. We don’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. We train you to use your skills, and we give you assignments based on what you’re best suited to do. You’re compensated for it. Very nicely.”

  Phoenix fixes her with a long, hard glare. “We’ve done well enough on our own. There’s no reason why we should sign anything with you. And I don’t need you to teach me any damned thing.”