Grave Robber for Hire (16 page)

“Hell yeah, I know a Barrister who goes to her dungeon a couple times a month.” Josh ran his hand down my hair. “Real?” I nodded. “Nice. I didn’t catch your name?”

“Angel.”

“Angel?” He gave a toothy laugh. “Not many of those in here. So, Angel, what you into?”

“Not sure. Never been to a club like this before.” Wouldn’t return. I’d done enough gawking, time to find Josey and keep Tyreal away from her until I assessed the potential of her turning into a red-eyed monster.

“This is your first time, and you’re here alone?” He stared incredulously at me. I wasn’t sure if he thought I was game or stupid. He took my hand. “I’m taking you on a tour, tell me if it gets too much. Some of the other rooms can be a bit in your face for beginners.”

Viggo sidled in beside me, placed his hand around my cast. He looked at the stage again, and then leaned towards me. “Her. Leave.”

What? Josh pulled me toward another room. I scowled at Vig.

Twelve feet from the stage I stopped short. Now I saw what Viggo meant. On the stage, black slivers of mist with snake heads and red eyes slithered from under props, lights, and out of the boots of mesh wearing Lillith. I’m guessing this wasn’t about to bode well for my sanity or anyone’s safety.

I turned to Josh, and pointed to the stage. “Can you see that?”

Josh laughed. “It’s okay, the guys are fine with the weights being tied to the their balls. It’s all safe. Everything in here is monitored.” He pointed to two bouncer type men walking around.

My legs clamped together of their own accord again. I didn’t own testicles nor wanted any, but tonight I was particularly pleased all my bits were well hidden inside my body cavity.

“No, the mist.” Leeches. That’s what Vig called them.

“What mist?”

Mist leeches slithered onto and across the stage. They slid up and wrapped themselves around the gagged men until they were covered in a creepy twining slithering mass. Forked tongues tasted the men’s skin. Little reptilian mouths opened and nipped at the men as if eating the hardened black wax. Lillith selected a leather crop and struck it against her own palm in a short hard crack. I jumped and the skin on my back quivered.

Leech monsters, ball weights, gagged, burnt with wax, now they were lucky enough to get a whipping.
Whoot
.

Rabid anticipatory excitement filled the men’s faces. I could hardly wait for such a fun filled carnival ride to play out. House of BDSM horrors—come one come all. I focused on Lillith to see what joy she got out of her end of the deal but saw no emotion.

There was something about this woman. A couple of steps closer brought her jaw line and mouth shape into better view. Josey. Lillith the Domme was Josey. Shit, why hadn’t I noticed before? Too busy gawking like a country kid at the fair.

And she’d accessorized with Hell’s own Leeches. Very Vogue.

Hand on one hip, Josey turned to face the audience, striking a pose that set off her
God-damn,
body. How dare the succubus bitch be so hot. Who gave out bodies like that?

Where the hell was mine?

I tried to hide behind Josh. I didn’t want Josey to recognize me, think I was offering myself as her next dungeon sacrifice. Dying in a Fetish Club wasn’t quite how I saw my death’s headlines. I foresaw more the, Multi-billionaire and oldest person in the world has passed away, leaving her wealth to animal rescue groups worldwide, headlines. I tugged Josh’s hand, pulling him further into the club and searched for Tyreal. After all, once he got Josey to take him to her other dungeon of love, I needed to follow. To help keep him safe, and to get closer to finding that damn Rembrandt.

Creature she may be, but she knew something about that Rembrandt and its whereabouts I was sure.

Then I wished I hadn’t gone further into the club. This room’s events proved much more hard-core. Boy on boy, girl on girl full sex, side of things. I didn’t quite see Tyreal in that light. Of course, he’d turned down oral sex, so maybe I’d played him wrong and he preferred a guy’s mouth on his boy stuff. Or I could just be feeling a tad bitchy.

Knock backs are hell on my ego.

After a good tour of all things hot, horny, some grotesque, some I wanted to take notes on, I returned to the main room with tour guide Josh.

“So, Angel, now you’ve got a taste, a bit of show and tell, anything you feel you’d like to try.” Josh leaned closer and ran his hand down my bare back and butt. “I’m not hard-core, but I like a little bondage either way. You can tie me up, tease me or vice versa.”

Now there’s an offer I could refuse. Just then I saw Tyreal.

A whole different Tyreal.

Tyreal was ninety-nine percent naked. A freaking awesome—ninety-nine percent naked.

Josh saw me staring. “He must be a sub. Ooh he’s heading for Lillith, she does like them big in more ways than one. The bigger they are the more she likes their submission.”

At six four and full of hard lean muscle, Tyreal was big, and I knew how big what he had stuffed in that cock cage was.

A pair of leather chaps, highlighted his cock. A front crossing harness sporting a center O ring was attached to his cock cage. Tyreal looked the part and strangely at ease. His cock cage had a lead. As he headed for the stage, he placed the end of it into his mouth.

I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or take photos.

Still looking at Tyreal I asked Josh, “Why’s he put the lead in this mouth?”

“He’ll offer himself to her that way.”

Josey’s leeches still slithered around her. A fog of purple steadily thickened, wafting across the stage, out into the audience, drifting on the air-conditioned air. A man dressed in a latex thong and nipple rings stopped in his tracks, turned and faced Josey, his cock went hard. A woman preparing her female partner for the whipping harness stopped and faced Josey. Her half strapped companion hanging by one arm spun and faced Josey.

Viggo walked forward and sniffed the air and jogged back to me. “Grab friend. Get out.”

I looked at Josh.

Vig shook his head. “Not him, idiot.” He pointed to Tyreal, “Him.”

The mist hit Tyreal. He jolted to a stop, stood and gaped at Josey and went stiff. Everywhere. Well shit. She was gorgeous all tall and lean with pert tits and ass, but did he have to gawk. I looked down at my short, a tad too padded body.

Bitch didn’t have my curves.

Viggo reached out to Tyreal, grabbed his arm, spun him out of the mist and hauled him closer to me. “Get him out.”

Tyreal’s face was slack. Since his irises were near black anyway I couldn’t see his pupils, but he had a glazed dumb-fucked expression like someone stoned out of their brains.

I grabbed his shoulder. “Tyreal, what the hell have you taken?” He looked so out of it I was scared he’d OD’d. Tyreal slowly focused on me. He looked me up and down and scowled so deeply I thought he’d have a permanent crease between his pretty black brows.

He peered closer, and the fug spell lifted a little. “Angel?” Eyes and lips thinned. “Are you insane? Have a death wish tattooed on your freaking butt? I told you I’m here helping a police investigation, and you turn up and offer yourself to a woman who has threatened your life.” He reached out and tugged my hair. “I thought the blond was fake.”

I knocked his hand away. “That succubus bitch up there is pumping something out into the room that’s drugging people. Stay out of the purple mist and leave.”

“What purple mist?” He turned to the stage and stepped forward. Josh decided it was time to grab and kiss me. Not saying the guy couldn’t kiss, but the timing was bad. Very bad. Just as I was about to push him away he spun and jerked sideways.

Viggo shook his fist and grinned with some sort of deep satisfaction. Josh crumbled into Vig’s arms. He hauled Josh to a couch and dumped him on it. Several patrons stared at us, but the mist drifted further into the room and they turned to stare at the stage in a zombie trance. Everyone started to run their hands over themselves and began self-stimulating.

Now half of the clubs patrons were entranced by Josey’s actions, most were openly masturbating. She stood on stage, legs apart, arms lifted above her head. The stance showcased the bitch’s awesome body and pissed me off. She may be a famous Domme that charged submissives for services. But she was also one evil whore who used a gas born drug to entice her customers. That shit didn’t seem fair.

Tyreal stepped toward the stage and he was surrounded by purple. His body jerked, then appeared to soften, like a gum drop dropped on a hot sidewalk.

I rushed to grab Tyreal free of Josey’s thrall. Breath held, I hit the purple thickening fog and sizzled under the assault. Fingers stroked my skin, fondled my senses, tried to tantalize me into a fog of lust. My nipples peaked, my muscles warmed and softened, unmentionable girly areas moistened.
No breathing. Don’t breathe, gotta be quick, or I’d be screwed.
Literally.

I snatched at Tyreal’s hand, but he was too close to Josey and inhaling the fog like a dope addi
ct draws on a bong, and pulled free of my grasp.

I had to breathe, I sucked air. Shit, mist stroked and caressed me inside and out. The magic of it fondled and warmed. Muscles tingled and hummed, I purred. Oh God, I wanted to knock Tyreal flat and hump him on the floor.
Ooo
that guy there looks good, and that guy had a big—Fuck. Focus, Angel. Remember drugged air, and focus. Tiny sips of air only.

Tyreal’s so pretty, oh man, that guy with the choker chain is so pretty, Unconscious Josh is so pretty. Josey turned to me and barred her teeth.

Jagged like sharks. A buzzer blasted in my brain.

Gah
,
not so pretty. Oh shit her eyes were red. Two of Hell’s creatures in one day.
Gosh, I was a lucky girl.

Chapter 14

Another surge of purple lust-gas flooded Devil’s Whip’s air-conditioned swirlin
g airwaves. I ducked and drew air from near my knees and most of the lust dissipated, but I hadn’t been as affected as the other people anyway. By now the mist had traveled encircling those further back in the club.

Josey leaped off the stage and grabbed Tyreal by the leash he held in his teeth. I charged, snatching for the leash. Her arm shot out, pushing me away with a dismissive flick as if I was nothing more than an annoying bug.

I stumbled back a step, and righted myself.
Bug this demon bitch
. I shot my leg out and kicked her in the shins. Her head snapped to me at an unnatural speed and angle and her neck lengthened. Tyreal’s mouth dropped open, eyes glazed with ardent lust, he started to dry hump her leg.

Bitch
. If he was humping anyone’s leg, it would be mine.

I kicked her in the chest as she kicked me in my gut. Unfortunately, gut won against chest. Hunched forward I fell back, holding my stomach and judging by the pain probably half my intestines. I looked down. Good news, no entrails dangling or other
blood and gore, just a red welt. Huh, bitch hadn’t gutted me, but to my delight, she thought I was down and out.

She’d turned away, and started leading the now very erect Tyreal toward a door marked with a green neon exit sign.

In a head down charge I connected with her kidney. She roared. I shoved a foot behind her knee and pressed. She fell—on me. Josey on top, we hit the floor. I kneed her in the gut, elbowed her in the throat and bashed her in the head with my cast. Her nails raked my back, her forearm locked under my jaw and shoved up and to the side, trying to break my neck. I grabbed her mask and head butted her. Stars formed in my vision and I felt sick.

Super Angel strikes.
I am the greatest
.

All the patrons cheered. The words chick fight echoed around the room. A stampede of feet hit the floor as all the patrons rushed nearer and hit the mist. Now most of the club patrons were zonked, but they still watched us fight. Chick fight beats kink and masturbating zombies any day. And the more I fought the less horny I felt.

Josey’s hold tightened, and Super Angel started to choke.

Vig peeled Josey’s arm from my throat, grabbed her hair and hauled her across the floor.

Yeah, way to go Super Vig.

M
id drag, Josey twisted and thrust out her hand. A ball of purple light hit Vig and burst. Purple flames swept around him, creating a Viggo inferno. He reeled back and roared.

I screamed.

The chick fight watchers and those in thrall cheered. They could see him outlined in the flames, probably thought it was special effects. Assholes. Then the purple flames puffed out. Vig threw his arms out. Golden light shot from his hands blasting Josey. The light spiraled around, drowning her in gold until she fell on the floor. She shrieked out an unnatural sound and started writhing.

“Yeah, take that bitch,” I screamed. I wanted pom-poms to cheer Vig on.

The light puffed out. She got to her knees and hurled a huge ball of purple mist at Vig. It hit him mid chest. The purple mist flashed around Vig. Flaming fingers caged him in fire. His arms were trapped, chained by the flames. Josey grabbed for me. I spun away, rolled to my feet, and threw myself onto Viggo.

Ooze and fingers of lusty passion seared and sizzled across my flesh. I tore at them to free Viggo and myself of their hold. I dug into the mist and ripped. Viggo grunted. I tore off more, and he grunted again. I linked my good arm under the mist and fell backward, tearing wriggling mist tendrils from a screaming Viggo as I crashed to the floor.

I flung the writhing shit away, saw Vig was free, and rolled to face Josey. Josey focused on Vig. I leapt to my feet, kicked her for giggles in her girly bits. She spun into me, so I dug fingers into her eye sockets and gouged. She reeled back. I dove sideways, prayed Viggo was safe, grabbed Tyreal’s leash and started running.

Stuff Super Angel, I was Wrath, destroyer of Hell’s leeches and evil bitches. And when shit scared, Wrath can run at the speed of sound. Wrath’s feet pumped so fast I waited for the sonic boom.

Then I remembered Tyreal’s leash was attached to his cock cage and his hard penis was having a rough time keeping up with Wrath speed. I jolted to a stop, met his lust glazed hungry gaze. He grinned, I grimaced.

“I’m going to have to erase this from my memory bank.” I was starting to feel more booze coming on.

His hand locked on mine. “Let’s fuck.”

“Some other year. Now run.” We bolted.

After passing the two inner sets of doors we dashed into the cloak room and I was blessedly relieved the attendant obviously hadn’t had a snort of the mist. I asked for my bag and jacket and Tyreal’s gear. While we waited, Tyreal started enthusiastically rubbing his cock up and down my hip. I once owned a dog who’d humped everything including plastic bags and Tyreal’s desperation and glassy eyed passion felt very similar.

The doorman passed over a bag of Tyreal’s. Out on the street Tyreal rubbed himself all over my body, trying to slide his finger under the mesh o
f my top, sliding his erection down the crease of my barely there pants. Three cabs drove past. One sped up.

Yeah, I wouldn’t pick us up either.

I slipped on my jacket. Tyreal drove his hands underneath and squeezed my nipples. I groaned, my nipples hardened and everything below my navel started throbbing. This was really bad timing. At any minute, that bitch could come for us, and we really needed a cab.

I slapped Tyreal on the chest. “Tyreal, snap out of it.” He started kissing my neck. I pulled away and grabbed his face. He pressed down against the hold to kiss me. “Christ, get a grip.” I dug into his bag of gear, found his shirt and helped him into it.

A taxi pulled up.
Thank god
. I hauled Tyreal toward the back door and opened it.

“No sex in my cab lady.”

“We won’t, promise. But he’s been slipped a roofie and is in some sort of drug thrall.”

“Yeah, see that at this club all the time. Some really sick shit happens in there. Far more than the other clubs.”

Good to know, but not a shocker. Tyreal, his jacket exposing his purple engorged caged friend was now rubbing his hand all over himself. Well at least he was leaving me alone. Much more of his focused attention and I’d self-combust.

“Tyreal. Behave.” I slapped him across the face and started stuffing him into the back of the cab. I scrambled in behind him and gave the driver our hotel’s address and buttoned up my satin jacket.

I was never going to a fetish club again. Ever.

And where were the cops ready to follow Tyreal? Had they been inside too and become lust enthralled with Josey? I couldn’t worry about them. That was their problem. Mine was my partner.

Tyreal thrust into the air then rubbed himself and me as I slapped away his hand. The cab driver would need a stiff drink at the end of this fare.

At the hotel I paid the driver, gave him a big tip and hauled an air thrusting Tyreal out of the cab. If I didn’t get him to my room soon, he’d be booked for lewd behavior.

To get him to our room, I kept his hand in my tight grip while whispering promises I didn’t plan on keeping in his ear. Almost slobbering with enthusiasm, Tyreal trotted happily beside me to the elevator door.

With leather cutting into his erection and it standing proud out of his unbuttoned shirt, the elevator doors opened. Two elderly women looked down, both gave a double blink then ran out. I dragged him inside the elevator and started fending off kisses, but his hands just slipped under my jacket and rio
ted over my body. My boy-panties were so wet I’d have to hose them clean.

Inside my room, I shoved Tyreal into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Get u
ndressed. Shower in cold water and leave it that way. Don’t come out until you feel normal and your dick’s soft.”

Now, those weren’t words I said too often to a guy. I slammed the door shut.

Inside the bedroom area, I hauled off my new favorite boots and put them into their box. The kink wear followed, only I dumped the tiny bits of clothing on the floor. I’d rinse them in the shower. Wrapped in a hotel supplied robe, I waited for my turn under the cold water. Icier the better.

I prayed Vig was all right, hoped Josey hadn’t won this round. And
also prayed that the lust drug didn’t have long term effects on Tyreal. Wasn’t dangerous in a, all my blood’s gone to my dick so I’ll sustain brain damage, kind of way.

I’d had my first chick fight, and kicked monster Josey’s ass. But the night hadn’t been much of a win. Not for Tyreal’s cop team or for me to hunt for the Rembrandt. The cops didn’t have Josey or know where she took more of her victims. Tonight had been a cluster-fuck of super weird shit. But at least I hadn’t let Josey get her demon clutches on Tyreal.

I was down four hundred dollars on an outfit I’d probably never wear again and still was no closer to the painting that would be the answer to my dreams.

Water stopped running. Here’s hoping he was back to normal and okay. Five minutes later he came to the bathroom door, naked, still hard, and running his hands over himself.

“Hey, Princess Angel, I want to fuck you so hard.”

“Of course you do.” I walked past, pushed him out of the doorway, entered the bathroom, and closed and locked the door.

I had a long night ahead.