Beautiful Prey: The Storm Series

Acknowledgements

I dedicate this book to
my wonderful daughter and best friend, Jasmine Marie
McMorris
.
She was taken from me too fast. May she rest in
peace.
She was the absolute love of my life and always picked me up if ever I should fall.
I wrote this book in her legacy because she died while in the process of
writing her own novel. I decided to pick up where she left off. I also need to
thank my super intelligent fourteen-year-old daughter,
NiYah
,
who expertly pre-edited everything that wasn't erotic. I'd also like to thank
my wonderful publisher,
Femistry
Press, for believing
in me and providing an abundance of encouragement. I'm thankful for my other
editors and family for giving me space to write.
Also, my
man, Bernard (AKA Jack) for helping me to understand the pleasures of a man.

In Memory Of:

Jasmine Marie
McMorris

September 1, 1990
                
May 19, 2013

Beautiful Prey

a
Femistry
novel

by
Phoenix Daniels

Copyright
@2014 by
Femistry
Press Publications.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without
permission from the publisher, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages
to be printing online, in a newspaper, or magazine.

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be assumed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

VICTORIA

Victoria sashayed over to the curbed black Escalade. She was
sure that she had seen the truck before. She already knew that the driver
wanted her. After all, she was wearing a tiny little pink tennis skirt that
barely landed over her ass cheeks and a white t-shirt that was cut to show her
impressive midsection.

The six-inch pink and blue stilettos
were going to seal the deal.

“Hey, baby,” Victoria whispered as
she leaned into the driver’s side window.

He’s cute
, she
thought to herself.

Actually, he was too good looking to
be trolling Madison Avenue for a street whore. Victoria took a closer look at
the handsome man. He had the most intense grey eyes, a strong jaw line, and
sandy blonde hair.

He actually looked familiar.

Leaning further into the window
seal, exposing her large breasts, she asked, “Do we know each other?”

“No.”

His response was too quick for
Victoria, so she narrowed her eyes in response. She wasn’t convinced. Yet, she
knew that Steve was nearby and he wouldn’t be happy if she had a long
conversation with a John without sealing the deal. So, she got on with it.

“
You
lookin
’
to party, Handsome?”

“Get in,” the John ordered. He was
cold and barely looked at her as he spoke.

“Hold on, baby. We haven’t made a
deal yet.”

His irate attitude was now
exasperating silence, so Victoria attempted to turn and walk away. Before she
could escape, the John reached out of the window and grabbed her by the arm.
She turned around, ready to unleash her wrath. Victoria didn’t like being
manhandled.

However, before she could get a word
out, he snatched half of her body through the driver’s side window and hit the
gas. Victoria was filled with terror as her body was dragged along the burning
hot asphalt.

She struggled to get free as her feet
hit the street so violently that her stilettos were knocked off. She really
didn’t care if she fell from the speeding vehicle because at that very moment
she realized that she was being abducted by the infamous prostitute serial
killer that the police had been hunting diligently.

She heard the screeching tires of a
vehicle in pursuit that was coming to her rescue. She became thankful that
Steve was nearby. Yet, as soon as the relief came, it left her body when she
felt a needle pierce her soft brown skin.

Instantly, everything went black.

Four months ago…

CHAPTER 1

VICTORIA

Hot!
That was the only word to describe July in Chicago. Victoria Price took a deep
breath and stepped out of her car. Since becoming an officer with the Chicago
Police Department ten years ago, Victoria equated heat with violence.

She shrugged and muttered to herself, “It’s
gonna
be a busy day.”

For the past five years, Victoria had been working as an
undercover Vice officer. She walked into the station and thought about her
fellow officers. Cops came in all types. There are good, hardworking, and
honest cops. Oh, but let’s not forget the wimp turned bully with a gun, the
bully turned monster, and, of course, the lady turned butch that has to prove
that she’s just as tough as the guys.

She laughed to herself and headed to the locker room.
Shedding her clothes and weapon, Victoria took a deep breath and walked over to
the floor length mirror. She stared at her long dark hair and her caramel
colored skin. She lowered her eyes to her large breasts, small waist, and long
legs and realized that she didn’t make it to this elite unit in the Organized
Crime Division because she had done her time working the beat, had worked for
years running and gunning on the tactical team, or was considered the best
female undercover in her unit.

No, Victoria knew that she only got to this so-called elite
unit because of the way she looked. At thirty-one, she was still considered to
be quite beautiful.

Victoria looked into her mirrored eyes and muttered, “How
long are you
gonna
keep doing this?”

She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked
over to her locker to get dressed. She finished dressing and walked back to the
mirror to make sure she looked the part. She did. She was sporting a very tight
pink top that rested slightly above her belly button, which showed off her flat
stomach, belly ring, and way too much cleavage. She turned around and glared at
the half of her ass cheeks that weren’t covered by her skin-tight blue jean
shorts. She took the journey down her long legs and eyed the bright red
six-inch hidden platforms; shoes that she adored.

After another deep breath, Victoria “top model” stomped out
of the locker room in just in the nick of time for roll call. Upon entering the
roll call room, Victoria got the usual cat calls from her co-workers.

“Fuck y’all,” she mouthed as she took her seat.

Victoria looked around at the group of men that she spent
most of her time with. Among them were Miguel, the very sweet Puerto Rican that
always lent her an ear or a shoulder to cry on, Frankie, the hilarious Italian
that could make her laugh during the worst situation, and Steve, her extremely
muscular ex-Marine partner that would dive on a grenade to save her. Last but
not least, Deon was her very fit and charismatic friend. Deon was an extremely
handsome ladies’ man. Between her tall and handsome friend and her muscle-bound
tattooed partner, who most women considered super sexy, no one would believe
that there was nothing sexual with either of them. Victoria had a strict motto,
“don’t shit where you eat”, and she stuck to it. Not because she was so moral,
but because she’d had a horrible experience when she got involved with a cop
where she was previously assigned. Lance had showed his ass and put her
personal affairs on display. He was her one sexual liaison on the job because,
unfortunately, there was a serious double standard. Male cops could bed as many
female cops as they pleased and be a “player,” but, if a female cop had sex
with more than one cop, she was a whore. If she were to ever get promoted, it
would be because she was sleeping with someone powerful, not because she
deserved it.

   
Because of this, and the fact that she spent so much time on the street as an
undercover prostitute, Victoria was very single.

Lost in her thoughts, Victoria almost missed her sergeant’s
speech in roll call. Apparently someone was killing prostitutes on the West
Side. Somehow the “higher ups” came up with the brilliant idea to increase
Victoria’s presence on the street as an undercover prostitute in hopes to catch
the killer.

Victoria decided that her superiors could give less than a
fuck whether she lived or died.

Oh, well.
I’m a cop
, she thought to herself while thanking God for her team.

Roll call ended, and the team exited the room.

A grinning Deon walked over to Victoria. “You’re
gonna
kill ‘
em
tonight in that
getup, Baby Girl.”

“Better than them killing me.”
Victoria
laughed at her own cynical humor as she hustled over to a waiting Steve and
followed him out of the door.

Steve was the strong silent type. He didn’t do much talking
to anyone other than Victoria. It was Steve’s responsibility to keep an eye on
Victoria at all times. His job was to hide in the shadows and make sure that
she was completely safe while she posed as a street prostitute. If Steve saw
anything remotely out of order, he would alert the team to rush in and do
damage. Victoria had complete confidence in her team, and she put her life in
their hands on a daily basis.

Steve and Victoria made their way out the door and to their
assigned vehicle, a covert Toyota Sequoia.

Steve looked over at Victoria and the seriousness in his
expression startled her. “What?”

“Be careful tonight, Vic.”

Victoria ran her hand across his back. “I’m always careful.”

That seemed to comfort him, so they took off and headed to
the West Side.

Three hours, fifteen Johns, and no killer meant it was time to
call it a night. Three hours of walking the street and negotiating the price of
a blowjob with scum exhausted Victoria.

“Good job,” Steve acknowledged while navigating their way
back to the station.

“Yeah, thanks. Guess I make an excellent whore,” Victoria
said with a chuckle.

They made it back to the station and headed to the roll call
room for debriefing. The team trickled in and took their seats.

Sergeant Banner staggered to his feet slurring. “Good job,
Price.”

At this point it was clear to the entire room that the
sergeant was good and drunk. He spoke over the chatter and giggles at his
expense and continued with, “We still have a killer to catch.” In between
hiccups, he slurred, “Price, you’ll be shaking your ass on the street every day
until we catch him.”

Victoria was irritated beyond belief. She wanted to tell
that drunken bastard to go shake
his
ass
on the street. She was on the street risking her life while he was somewhere
getting drunk.

Victoria stood and asked the sergeant, “Don’t we have a
Homicide Division?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “But they ain’t got your, umm,
assets
,” he said with a sick drunken
smirk.

Victoria rolled her eyes and returned to her seat.

When the sergeant was done with his drunken debriefing, she
hopped up hurriedly. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a hot
shower and her warm bed.

She was headed to the locker room when Deon cut her off.
“You know we’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Victoria exhaled. “I know, Deon. I just feel like the
department is really
pimping
me.”

Deon smiled sympathetically and said, “Because they are. But
the truth is you are the best at what you do.” He shrugged as he continued,
“Sorry, Baby Girl.”

Deon planted a quick kiss on her forehead and headed out the
door. Victoria headed into the locker room to change. She sat and stared at her
locker and decided she was too tired to change. She grabbed her weapon and
clothes, stuffed them into her gym bag, and headed out.

On the drive home, she thought of how much she loved her
job. She had wanted to be a cop ever since she was a little girl. She was sold
after she saw her first rerun of Cagney and Lacey. She smiled to herself as the
memories played in her mind.

“I won’t be a CPD whore forever,” she convinced herself with
a smile.

Once arriving at her apartment building, Victoria pulled
into her assigned parking space and jumped out of her car like it was on fire.
She couldn’t wait to get into her apartment and out of her shoes. She entered
her building and headed up the stairs to her second-floor apartment. Stairs and
six-inch platforms were a painful combination. When she made it to the top of
the stairs, she sighed with relief. As she fumbled with her keys, the door
directly across from her apartment opened. Victoria turned to see Mrs.
O’Malley.

Grace O’Malley had to be the nosiest woman alive.

She had never, not even once, given Victoria so much as a
hello. Victoria was the only black person in the building, and Mrs. O’Malley
was set in her old Irish ways. Since Victoria was an undercover officer, no one
in the building knew that she was a cop. Grace O’Malley took in Victoria’s
slutty appearance. She slowly looked Victoria up and down. Victoria smiled and
greeted the nosy old lady. Mrs. O’Malley looked at Victoria like she smelled of
garbage and slammed her door. Victoria laughed out loud and entered her
apartment. A hot shower and two glasses of wine later, Victoria was out like a
light for the rest of the evening.