Circle of Danger (11 page)

 

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

M
arie's body hummed the same beat as the music in Club Rachael. The underlying tingle worried her. She recognized the feeling. Now wasn't the time for the drug to kick in. The last time it had hit, she'd struggled for over an hour to find her release with the help of her plastic-encased boyfriend. Besides, it wasn't like she could excuse herself to go to the bathroom and take care of the problem.

“Liam, you're supposed to be acting like a professional businessman. So keep your fucking hands off Marie's butt.”
Ryker's voice pounded into her skull.

The small two-way receivers inserted in their ears gave Ryker's raspy drawl an unearthly sound. And hearing his voice was enough to make her thighs clench. Liam's attempt to piss off Ryker had nothing to do with the drug ramping up her body's needs.

“Hey, boss, I need to look the part. If I'm a high roller with a rep for walking on the edge, I would be all over my young lady.” Liam winked at her.

“Don't make me come in there and wipe the floor with your ass. Pay attention. Mulcahy's pulled up and is heading toward the service door.”

They'd been told he had an emergency and would return before midnight. Then he'd see them. He'd turned down Liam's offer for the club but accepted his proposal to talk about it. Less than fifteen minutes later, a refrigerator-sized man stopped near them.

“Mr. Mulcahy will see you now.”

Marie stood with Liam.

“The woman stays here,” the big man said.

“Considering he's getting his funds from me, that wouldn't be such a good idea.” Marie fluttered her eyelashes at the big guy.

“That's my girl. She doesn't back down.” Liam kissed her hard and loud.

“Damn it, Marie. That's not what we rehearsed. I knew I shouldn't have let you go with him. Liam, get your mouth off her and find a way to salvage this. Both of you, get back to the fucking plan.”

“For Christ's sake, take a chill pill,” Marie whispered.

“What did you say?” The big guy stepped closer.

“I was telling my lover that it's a little chilly in here.” Marie gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence.

When the big guy looked her over, his gaze lingered over her chest. The dress they insisted she wear was no bigger than a handkerchief. With her breasts nearly hanging out, her hard nipples stood at attention from the increased tingling. Once they left, she could take care of her problem, but in the meanwhile, she'd be in hell controlling what her body screamed it wanted. It was as if her nerves—or whatever it was that had gone haywire—knew he wasn't Ryker and that helped a little.

“Go through the door on the left. You'll be shown to the boss's office.”

Liam placed an arm over her shoulders. She struggled with her smile, trying to maintain the air of a couple immersed in each other. He opened the door and looked inside. At the other end of the hall stood a man as wide as the door he guarded. He looked almost identical to the other one. The door behind them slammed shut and silence weighed heavy.

“Mr. Mulcahy is waiting for you.” The man towered even over Liam and eyed her with a mixture of interest and distrust.

He opened the door and they entered a room that would look perfect in an Englishman's cottage. Leather-bound books lined a couple walls. A small sofa and matching overstuffed chairs arranged in front of an unlit fireplace invited guests to make themselves at home. The dim lighting cast shadows in the corner where a large desk sat facing the door.

The squeak of metal on metal alerted them that someone sat in the desk chair. A light snapped on over the desk. Mulcahy wore a black-on-black suit with a red tie. His coal-black hair cut short showed off almond-shaped eyes. Half Irish and half Japanese? That was the possible answer to how an Irishman could be involved with the Japanese mafia.

Another movement behind the desk chair caused Liam to straighten up and step in front of her. No one possessed such blue hair. Ice Takahashi stood near Mulcahy with his arms crossed and his eyes unreadable. Was he working undercover for Ryker's brother or had he turned traitor?

“Ah, Mr. Kelly, now what can I do for you and The Circle this dreary evening?” The Irish lilt sounded strange coming out of a man with such exotic features. Mulcahy leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. The smirk on his handsome face revealed how much he enjoyed Liam's discomfort.

“The Circle? I'm not sure of what you mean.” Liam said with a bit of his own Irish lilt, betraying his concern as he ignored the man's use of his actual last name.

Marie eased to the side. She appreciated Liam's protective gesture, but she was determined not to cower. Something flickered in Ice's dark eyes. In the years of treading on the edge of life and death while she lived with Master, she'd learned to read subtle movements and between the lines. He appeared irritated with seeing her. When he turned his attention away from her, he glared at Liam as if he blamed her companion for her presence. Was she reading everything wrong?

“No need to play coy with me, Liam Kelly. Indeed logistics and security are your specialties for your new master.” Mulcahy's cold black eyes watched her show of bravado. “Hello, my pretty. Where did you pop from?”

She lifted her chin. If he knew Liam was a Circle operative, she doubted he would believe anything she said.

“You've trained her quite well. I hate it when women believe their opinion is worth listening to.” He tilted his head. “Are you a new recruit?”

“Leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Ah, it's like that now, is it? You want to protect her.” He stood and walked around the desk. “It's not love but something else. Is it only because you're a gentleman and believe in protecting the wee woman? Maybe more.” He rubbed his chin and tilted his head the other way. “Are you fucking her? No? She appears the type who must be in love for an old brute like you to get between her lily-white thighs. Such a tiny bit. I like them small and energetic. So what could it be? I love puzzles, and I'm very good at figuring them out.”

“We need information.” Liam moved in front of Mulcahy, blocking his view of Marie.

“What in the hell are you doing, Liam?”
Ryker's voice caused Marie to jump. Thankfully Mulcahy didn't notice, but Ice lifted one eyebrow. She'd completely forgotten the receiver in her ear. Her face heated.

“Isn't that easy,” Mulcahy said. “I'm guessing your new master is nearby and listening to this conversation!” His voice rose with each word.

“I have no master.” Liam balled his hands into fists. They'd been patted down minutes before Mulcahy had shown up. So their guns and knives had been left at Sector.

Liam cursed but didn't move.

She'd never seen Liam lose his temper.

“You're not second-in-command. So does Jack Drago tell you what to do? I heard your wife was good at taking orders from him. In fact, that she begged to suck his cock on a regular basis until he kicked her out of his bed.”

A deep, ache-filled yell emerged from Liam as he reached for Mulcahy. At the same time, Ice dove over the desk and shoved Liam, sending him against the far wall. Mulcahy leaned back, arms crossed, watching the two men fight.

Ryker screamed orders over the receiver as Liam jumped up and knocked Ice off his feet. Ice attacked full force, his hands and feet moving in a blur. Liam kicked out but his foot slammed into a piece of furniture on the way up. His height was at a disadvantage. The solid thud of flesh hitting flesh filled the small space, turning her stomach. Afraid one of the men would swing too wide and hit her, she moved back and searched for a weapon to help.

Then meaty hands grabbed her shoulders. She looked up into beady eyes belonging to one of Mulcahy's gargantuan guards. Before a scream could escape, his ham-like fist crashed into the side of her face. Stars flashed in front of her. As darkness pulled her under, she heard Ryker shouting in her ear,
“I'm on my way, Marie.”

She mumbled, “Too late.”

M
arie rolled to her side. Shooting pain travelled from her temple and down to her jaw. What happened? Sure wasn't a hangover. Except for a few beers or a margarita with Charlie, she never drank enough to cause her head to ache as if it would fall off. She peeked between her eyelashes to check her clock.

Deep red silk curtains covered a large window. An enormous mirror against one wall and a round one above reflected the bed. Red satin sheets covered the mattress with a darker red comforter thrown at the bottom. The ebony furniture had an oriental design that somehow made the red darker and more sinister. The abundance of red felt like sitting in a blood-covered room. Not a good sign at all.

She sat up and dug her fingers into the mattress. Dizzy and feeling sick, she rubbed her eyes and smoothed down her hair. A cool breeze brushed her skin. What in the world? She looked down. Where had the red nightgown come from? Her nipples appeared to be a dark red beneath the material. Her stomach churned. Who'd dressed her? Or even more horrifying, who'd undressed her?

When a huge man opened the door and moved to the side for a smaller man to enter, everything came back to her. She brushed at her right ear. The receiver was gone.

“Good morning, Ms. Beltane. It took a wee bit of research to find information about you.” Michael Mulcahy wore a red polo shirt and black slacks. Christ, did the man know no other colors?

He did look good with his tanned skin and toned muscles. The words “lean” and “mean” came to mind.

His eyes, so dark and bottomless, gave her chills. She rubbed the bumps off her arms. The movement felt wonderful. Her palms slid toward her breasts. Oh, crap! The drug decided to go to the second stage while she was knocked out. She grabbed the sheet and curled her fingers into it. Raising the cloth above her breasts, she covered what he'd probably already seen.

Without hesitation, he rested a hip on the edge of the bed.

“Why are you interested in me?” She hoped The Circle had done a better job of hiding info on her than they had Liam.

Mulcahy skimmed a finger down her bare arm. She leaned toward him. Horrified, she jerked away and scooted toward the headboard, as far from him as possible. Her body started to shake like a junkie needing a fix. Tears welled in her eyes.

“I recognized the symptoms. Dilated eyes, light glistening on your skin, sensitivity to touch, and”—he sniffed—“and the delightful musty smell of sex is the key. Who shot you up with Blossom Flower? Is that how The Circle controls their female operatives nowadays?”

Disgusted with him and her own reactions, she slid out of the bed, taking the sheet and wrapping it around her to face Mulcahy.

He'd risen too and his grin changed to a full smile. She imagined a shark would show as many teeth before clamping down.

“You better let me go.”

“Is this where the damsel in distress claims I'll regret it?”

“That's right.”

“Who will save you, Ms. Beltane?”

“I don't need a man to save me.” She began easing toward the door as she kept him in sight.

“Brave words for a woman alone with a man in his bedroom. A woman who is under the influence of a powerful aphrodisiac drug.” He lowered his chin and voice. “Who will save you?”

His exotic eyes and lilting accent were intoxicating, but she sensed underestimating him could get her killed.

“You sure do act as if you know a lot about the subject. Are you the one they call the Wizard? Did you develop it?”

He chuckled and began tracking her around the bedroom. “If only I was a genius. No. I merely supply the Wizard with the means and—ah, you knew it wasn't me. You only wanted information and I just provided you with that. You're a clever woman.” His deadly stare warned her that he didn't care for clever women. “Maybe I should test the drug's control and see if I can make you hungry for my touch.”

From the way his gaze ran over her, it wouldn't take much to encourage him. Regardless of how much her body hummed, the thought of letting him touch her made her want to gag. Though tempted, she knew throwing a fit wouldn't solve anything.

Marie jumped when someone knocked on the door.

“What?” he shouted. His long fingers rubbed his chest as he watched her.

Ice opened the door. He glanced her way and then centered his attention on Mulcahy. “The operatives from the OS are here.”

The OS. Ryker's brother, Collin, led the organization. In fact, for years, the two organizations fought until Theo was killed. Since then the brothers worked at keeping the peace. Collin owed her. She'd saved his and his wife's lives at one time. Which of his operatives had business with Mulcahy?

Maybe if she could alert them, they'd help. Then again, whatever the OS was up to could spell more trouble for The Circle, and she would be in the middle of it. Though the brothers tried to get along with each other, it was a thin layer of gentility.

Ice had been with the OS. Was he still? She looked pleadingly toward the stone-faced man.

“Good. Be sure our guests are served coffee and the honey buns that Cook baked this morning.” As soon as the door closed, Mulcahy pressed her to the wall. “If I had the time . . .” He leaned down and kissed her throat as his long fingers cupped a breast.

A rush of pleasure surged through her and she arched her back. Oh, God, no! She couldn't let this happen. Remembering her lessons, she pushed her whole body toward him. The unexpected movement propelled him backward and his foot caught on the edge of a rug. He landed on the floor.

Without wasting time, she jerked open the door and ran into the hallway.

 

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

“H
ow's that nose coming along?”

Ryker hands squeezed Bryan's tensed shoulders. The man turned his head. Green and blue streaks underlined his eyes. After having his nose broken by Ryker and set the next day by Doc, his recovery was slow moving.

“Fine. I can breathe out of the right side now.” The wary tone caused Ryker to hold his chuckle. He'd learned some smartasses like Bryan needed a lesson in fear before they understood he meant what he said. The man would in no way endanger Marie's life again.

Ryker looked around at all of the men and women working in the bullpen toward one goal, finding Marie. He wanted to know what was taking so long to find her. They had the capability to locate a rogue camel carrying explosives in the middle of the Sahara desert; why couldn't they find one small woman?

“What have you found so far?” Ryker gritted his teeth as he slapped the man on the back. Even though they had four men outside the club while Liam and Marie were inside, they hadn't seen her leave. Mulcahy's car had been parked outside. Ryker had completed their interrogation moments ago. He was certain the men would be looking for another organization to work for before long if he allowed them to live.

Bryan coughed and then said, “We still have no idea where she could be.”

Without realizing he'd done so, Ryker lifted Bryan by the collar. “That's not the answer I want. It's been over twenty-four hours, and the longer it takes, odds drop steeply on any chance of finding her.”

“Boss, maybe you need to let Bryan go. Otherwise, if you put him in a coma, he can't trace this locator.” Jack slid a sheet of paper across the desk next to the keyboard Bryan's fingers trembled over.

“Locator? Marie has a locator?” Ryker released the man. Truthfully, he was ashamed of his actions toward the poor man, but knowing Marie needed him and he couldn't get to her drove him crazy. Everything about her drove him to extremes.

“Just like you and me and even poor old Bryan here.” Jack slapped his back. Bryan flinched and turned pale.

“She wasn't an operative. Why would the old . . . yeah. He was an old paranoid asshole. I could see him doing that to her.” Ryker guessed Theo had done it not long before he died. An ex-mistress of Theo's had worked with the OS to bring him down. If Theo had tagged all of his women with a locator, she'd been dead long before going to the other side.

“He had a good reason for being paranoid.” His second-in-command raised one pierced eyebrow.

Ryker ignored his jab. No need to go over his reasons for killing Theo. It had to be done and everyone had expected it to happen eventually. The old asshole hadn't suffered enough. A sword between the ribcage and into his heart was too quick. Pedophiles deserved to die more painfully and slowly, sliced up piece by piece, starting with their cocks.

“Get the coordinates now or I'll be pulling my foot from your sphincter in ten seconds!” Ryker stood over Bryan as the man pounded on his keyboard so fast his fingers blurred.

Fear loosened its grip in Ryker's chest for a moment. He knew it would tighten again as he moved closer to her location. What would he find? Mulcahy obviously took her for a reason. From what Liam could tell before he was taken in for surgery, Mulcahy had no idea she was a Circle operative. Liam made sure to confirm he'd picked her up off the street as a cover. His gamble of expecting Mulcahy would let her go had failed.

“Is it true what Liam said about Ice?”

Ryker cut his gaze over to Jack. “Yeah. But I believe there has to be more. Collin wouldn't break the peace over drug money.” He didn't go into how Liam was acting strange.

“I agree. It's because of Mulcahy's backing that this drug is out there. Ice's sister was almost pulled into it.” Jack shook his head. “No way would he side with Mulcahy. Ice was working undercover. I can contact Rex and see what's happening.”

“No. We don't need his help.” Ryker crossed his arms.

“But—”

“No. This is Circle business.”

“Boss! I got it!” Bryan clicked on the keyboard some more. “I've fed the info into your cell phone and aboard the Spirit.”

“Jack, call the helipad and tell them we're leaving in five.” Ryker knew it would be more like ten minutes before they left but everyone would work faster. “Have Tom pull a team and be ready in three.”

He heard people scrambling behind him as they pulled equipment vouchers to hand out weapons.

“I've already pulled one and they're waiting on the pad.”

Ryker squinted at Jack. “You're not going. Tom will be satisfied with whoever you have waiting.”

“I'm going, with the team or not.” Jack's mulish expression said it would take a fight to change his mind.

A few seconds passed as they glared at each other. Ryker wanted to mash the man's face in. Had Jack betrayed Liam and Marie to Mulcahy? Or was it an OS ploy and was Jack a part of it?

“No.” Ryker reached for the Uzi handed to him and threaded its sling onto his shoulder.

“I know you don't trust me, but I'd never hurt Marie. I don't like knowing someone might,” Jack said.

“I don't give a fuck what you like or don't; you're staying here.” He adjusted the Uzi underneath his arm and then slipped on a bulky jacket.

“Please.” With his arms stiff by his sides and hands fisted, Jack waited for his answer. One of the employees held out an Uzi, waiting for the two men to come to an agreement before handing it over to Jack.

Damn. Jack obviously meant what he'd said about Marie. That was part of the reason he didn't trust him.

Ryker inhaled and rubbed his eyes. Maybe that explained part of his animosity toward the man. He'd never allowed personal feelings to interfere with his goals. Then again, the goal of saving Marie was very personal no matter what he told himself.

“Then get your ass moving. We're losing daylight and I want Marie safe in Sector by nightfall.” Ryker nodded.

“Thanks, boss.” Jack grabbed the machine gun and sprinted out of the bullpen toward the exit to the helipad.

Ryker followed behind his second-in-command. He hoped like hell he hadn't screwed up.

M
arie had no idea how she got away. Maybe Mulcahy's guard thought he could handle her. She pulled at the stiff, itchy clothes, trying not to think about how she was sans underwear.

When she had darted out of the bedroom, she'd found herself in a loft overlooking a large city. The Bank of America Plaza with its gold leaf spire gave away where Mulcahy had taken her. Atlanta. Though she'd grown up in the area, Master rarely allowed her out of Main Sector without an escort. She and Charlie had visited the city last month, and if she remembered correctly, they had stayed at a hotel only a few blocks away. The Circle owned the property, and the manager reported to Ryker.

She'd found a way down three flights without being stopped until she reached an area being renovated where workmen had thrown their work overalls into a corner while they left for lunch. Without thinking twice of what was on it besides paint, she picked the smallest and pulled it on.

She was so happy to have clothes to cover the gown. While keeping an eye out for painters, refrigerator-sized thugs, and Mulcahy, she rolled up the sleeves and legs. When she reached the outside, she'd almost skipped barefoot down the sidewalk. Tickled by how people gave her a wide berth, she ignored them. Let them believe her crazy. Maybe there was a safety factor in looking like a kid wearing grown-up clothes. She was proud that she'd escaped on her own. Except for stopping every few feet to clean off the occasional pebble or wad of gum, she made good time reaching the street where she remembered the hotel stood.

Eyes wide, she gritted her teeth. Nothing but a parking deck with a deli and a dry cleaner on either side. No hotel. She stood staring at the levels filled with cars. Charlie had warned her how the city streets often looked alike and how many were called Peach-something. What to do next? Where should she go?

The shadows lengthened as the sun sank behind the tall buildings. She needed to find a phone. One of the drawbacks to everyone having cell phones was a person rarely ever saw telephone booths. Another was that she hadn't memorized any of the numbers she'd saved in her Blackberry. How would she let Ryker and Jack know where to find her? Even if a miracle happened and she found a public phone, it wasn't like The Circle's number could be found in a phone book or on the Internet.

Biting the side of her mouth, she stepped to the side as her gaze searched the area. Several of the storefronts had “Out of Business” or “Closed” signs. Nevertheless, she felt like she was in control for the first time in a long time.

Then it hit her. The humming in her body had died down to a manageable level. Her chest had loosened up too. She looked around. A need to touch and be touched wasn't driving her crazy anymore. Was the drug finally wearing down? Doc had said it could take months.

To think of it, every time she was calm or relaxed, the symptoms were mild to non-existent. Whenever the flashbacks knocked her on her butt, her adrenaline was pumping like crazy. She needed to get to Doc and see if he knew what it meant.

Well, she was back where she was a minute ago. How was she to get to The Circle without money or a car?

Her only hope of help was to go to a rescue center in the area. Mulcahy would never guess she would try something so simple. If she begged for a couple bucks, she could ride the MARTA to the Georgia Dome. She remembered that a center was near there—one of many painful memories from when she was twelve. Tears welled in her eyes. Her parents had met Master there and sold her, claiming she was nine, and left her without a thought. Later she'd heard they died from a drug overdose. They'd never had that much money and restraint was missing from their vocabulary. Obviously.

He'd bragged of how he loved shopping for kids at places like that. Like they were a commodity to be bought and sold.

After taking a deep breath she turned to look for the nearest MARTA entrance and there, about a half block from her, was Mulcahy with several of his thugs. She sprinted across the street and down an alley, not caring what she stepped on. They shouted at her and the scraping of their hard-soled shoes echoed behind her. The alley came out to a busier street and sidewalk. Without thinking, she ducked into a shop. Thankfully it was full of customers and jammed packed with T-shirts, airbrushed car tags, and big chunky costume jewelry. She stood behind a tall display near the front door and watched as Mulcahy and his guys hustled by.

“Can I help you?” The saleswoman eyed her with one bushy brow lifted.

“I was just looking.” Marie hurried out and turned toward the opposite direction. Afraid that Mulcahy would backtrack, she continued to look over her shoulder. Her feet ached from the cuts and bumps she'd received escaping, and glancing back only slowed her down further. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the thumping as if her heart wanted out. Was this what they meant about being scared to death? Surely her heart was about to explode. One more look back and she smiled in relief. Time for her to find a way to contact The Circle and Ryker.

Then hands grabbed her shoulders, but quickly released her when she squeaked and came to a halt. She covered her mouth and turned to face the person. All she saw was a faded blue T-shirt. She lifted her gaze what felt like several feet. An oversized—vertically and horizontally—shaved-head Uncle Fester stood in her way, checking her out in a way that gave her the creeps.

“Hello, pretty little thing.” He smiled. His teeth, brown and rotten, announced his crack habit.

“Sorry.” She stepped to the side.

He did too. “Don't be running off. You need to pay a toll.”

“I don't have any money.” She stepped back and he followed.

“Unzip that getup and show me your tits. That'll get you a free pass.” His sunken eyes glittered.

No way would she do that. She noticed a couple of muscle-bound guys step out of a bar and laugh, elbowing each other on seeing what must be their friend giving her trouble. He'd obviously charged the same “toll” to other unfortunate women using the same sidewalk.

“I'd rather not.” She turned to run, and his hand clasped her arm and squeezed.

“You ain't going anywhere.” He jerked her against his sweaty, damp body.

Without a thought as her body slammed into his, she brought her knee up, hard. He howled and dropped to his knees. She hadn't been certain it would work. Thankfully the momentum was enough to reach through his drugged mind. She'd remembered how her parents could open up gashes on their heads and not even realize it until they saw the blood flowing down the side of their faces.

His friends shouted and Uncle Fester tried to stumble to his feet.

She ran.