Justice Mine: a Base Branch Novel (17 page)

“Magdalena. Not yet.”

His demand sounded more like a pitiful plea, which she ignored, increasing her efforts to drive him over the edge. A muffled moan left her throat, vibrating his cock in her strangling tight channel. Law exploded in a growl, losing all control. His hands fisted into her hair, pumping her pretty mouth over his spasming cock.

Magdalena’s keening sounds continued, spurring him on. The first hot spurts of semen shot from his tip and she milked him, taking everything he had. His body quivered in spent ecstasy, leaving him weak and at the same time empowered. She slid off his still erect penis and licked her lips like the little devil she was.

In methodical paths she kissed him from toe to torso, paying no special attention to his scars, but neither avoiding them, accepting all of him in one more perfect show of affection. When she finally stood, Law pulled her against his chest and squeezed her supple body to his.

“I love you, Law.”

He scooped her into his arms and welded their mouths together, mixing their essences in a consuming kiss.

“I’m going to show you just how much I love you, tart.”

Law turned Magdalena to face the mirror, pushed her chest forward, and palmed her hip. The rounds of her delicious ass plumped in front of his saluting dick. Her back bowed in a sweeping curve that made his mouth water with the yearning to lick it.

Her eyes rounded. “Again?”

“I’m just sorry I’m busted up.”

“Doesn’t seem to be slowing you down any.”

“If I loved your body as many times, in as many ways, as my brain invents, you’d never walk right again.”

Magdalena dragged her bottom lip through her white teeth and arched deep, rubbing her boobs against the countertop, and nestled her hot slit over his rock hard penis.

“Magdalena.”

Law twined his hand in her unruly hair, anchored the other at her hip, and thrust deep. Her mouth fell open on a cry that flash froze him until the set of her shoulders gentled and the strangle hold she had on his dick relaxed. He pulled from her core and slid gently back home. Magdalena wrapped him in her wet satin embrace and welcomed him farther inside her than he’d ever been.

He leaned over her back, covering her body with his own. Law sidled his face next to hers and with the help of the reflective glass bore his gaze into hers.

“I love you,” he said.

He kissed a line across her cheek and down the curve of her back as far as he could, settling in to measured thrusts. His legs burned as he crouched, keeping them in line. He enjoyed the heat of their union, rolling his hips to hit the perfect spot. It would take time to learn her body, and he could only look forward to the education with unmatched excitement.

Law’s blonde beauty moaned. He ground hard against the tender point that stirred her passion then pounded with unrelenting strokes. Magdalena’s hands, splayed wide on the counter, squeaked as they slipped from the force of his primal desire. She planted her hands on the mirror, framing the picture of her flushed face. The heat from their sweat-soaked bodies formed steamy halos around her fingers on the cool glass, framing her heavily lidded eyes. Her new position allowed him a prime view of her bouncing rack. It was enough to break his control and pitch him into the yawning chasm of bliss.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Her answering moan let him know he wasn’t the only one with broken restraint. Law released the last vestige of discipline, giving himself over to the ferocity of their lovemaking. He rammed balls-deep until they both screamed their release in panted growls.

Magdalena rested her head on the counter and he collapsed onto her back, holding his weight from crushing her with shaky legs. Their sweat and breaths mingled as their hearts drummed the ancient beat of lusty love.

“I think,” she gasped, “we need another shower.”

“I can’t be sorry about it.”

“Me either.”

Her giggle shook his head. The peals brought a dopey smile to his face. Law disengaged from her tight body and pulled her into his arms. She came willingly, knotting her arms around his neck and legs around his middle. A sting in his battered torso reminded him of the precariousness of their situation, but he blocked it out a moment longer, reveling in the magic of Magdalena.

“We have some stuff to figure out, but we’ll do it together,” he assured.

Her brilliant smile was all the answer he required. But too soon it fell and her brow pinched. “Oh Lord.”

“What is it?”

“Willow. I need to talk to her, to make sure she’s okay and find out what the hell she’s involved in. But first, we have to make sure we’re not wanted by the Met. We left two dead bodies in our fumes.”

“My Hog doesn’t fume.”

His attempt to lighten her clouding mood worked a bit. She bopped his nose with her index finger.

“Be serious.”

“All right. Seriously, I’d like to find Willow myself. If this has nothing to do with Africa then it has a hell of a lot to do with her, and I want answers.” He brushed a hand over her mass of hair. “We’re not fugitives from the law. Khani took care of it.”

“How do you know? And how does she have so much power?”

“Trust me, tart.”

He smacked her bare ass. She yelped then narrowed her gaze. Law muted her tirade with his lips over hers. She’d just slipped her tongue into his mouth when a sharp knock echoed through the door.

Magdalena gripped his shoulders and reared back.

“Shh, it’s okay. That’s probably Khani with our food. Finally. You go get that shower started and I’ll get the door.”

I
t took some cajoling
, but Magdalena ambled warily toward the bathroom. Law waited until the door closed behind her apple-round bottom then he lunged for the Sig he’d stuffed under the mattress last night and headed for the far corner of the window. He peeked into the tiny crack of light between the curtain and frame and saw his adopted sister shift from one foot to the other in uncharacteristic fashion. His grip on the gun tightened as he flipped the safety and surveyed the surrounding area without shifting the thick fabric.

Few vehicles occupied the motor court of the small motel they’d chosen on the outskirts of the city. He’d have liked to have gotten them farther away, but had begun to press more and more of his weight onto Magdalena’s back, unable to fight the fragility of his battered state any longer.

Khani’s smoky-grey Benz sat beside his Harley. The car slung low on the pavement like a leopard waiting to unleash its power. A delivery truck parked by the registry office drew his hard gaze. When the portly transporter rounded the truck’s rear with a handful of envelopes, he studied the other cars in the lot. None carried passengers or hid ready gunman. Not that he could see anyway.

Law snagged his blood-crusted jeans from the pile of his dirty clothes and slipped them on. He opened the door, hanging back in the low-lit room, scanning the office windows and cars for movement.

“You looked properly fucked,” Khani said by way of greeting.

He flashed her a grin, still watching her back.

“And overly cautious.” Khani shook her head. “You think I’d have knocked on your door, if someone was following me? Give me some credit, Pierce.”

Law stowed his Sig in the rear waist of his pants and shrugged. “Sorry.”

Her normally impeccably styled hair sat high atop her head in a messy bun. The artful painting of make-up smudged about her eyes. Not like she’d been crying, but maybe sweating heavily. Her cheeks flushed a high rose. The swell and hue of her lips resembled Magdalena’s well-loved mouth. Someone had kissed off Khani’s wild lip color of the day. Law’s money was on the rookie she’d taken an especially long time pulling a bullet out of. Guess he wasn’t hurt too bad.

“I’m not the only one. Properly fucked, that is,” he said with a grin.

She thrust a plastic bag with three takeout boxes into his hand. “Oh, I’m totally fucked. Fucked up,” she growled.

“Want to come in and talk about it?”

Her face contorted into a sneer.

“Never mind. I’m here, if you need me.”

“Yeah, and you better stay put this time. I have two men on your room.” As if just remembering, she shifted uncomfortably in her mussed clothes. “Give me an hour to get my shit together and we’ll reconvene.”

“They’re not close.”

“No, sniper and spotter.”

He nodded. “We need to start with her roommate this time. Willow May Wren.”

“I’ll get a dossier worked up and have it ready. One hour.”

Khani turned and walked away, but her no-nonsense strides hunched at the shoulders. Damn. She’d screwed a subordinate and herself in the process. Possibly her career, but most assuredly her own strict moral code. Khani was no saint, but when it came to her job she had impeccable scruples. Had.

When the rumbling car shot past, Law touched his finger to his bowed head then locked the door’s bolt and metal latch. It wasn’t much protection, but the guys at the highest of three rolling ridges toward the east reassured him. The Base Branch snipers were the best in the world. Just like their agents.

Law deposited the bag and its mouthwatering contents onto the small dresser and ignored his protesting stomach as he walked toward the bathroom. When the knob twisted from the interior his hope to catch Magdalena wet and ready fell. She exited in a rush and assessed the room with two brisk rakes of her lovely gaze.

“I think that’s a world record for water conservation. Did you even get behind your ears?”

The worry in her furrowed brow smoothed as she pinned him with her gaze and unsuccessfully wrestled back a smile.

“Nosey reporter.” Law lowered his head, brushing his lips over hers.

“Journalist. Nosey journalist.”

She mumbled against his mouth, her hand shoving at his chest. He tucked her in his embrace and stood, lifting her feet off the ground. Her giggles warmed his belly and spread a grin across his face.

“You’re still wet.”

“I’m always ready for you.” She snugged her arms around his neck and kissed his bruise and the forming scar on his brow. Her gaze snagged on something behind him. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “Except when there’s a bag of warm breakfast singing a siren song to my concaved belly.”

It was his turn to laugh. He hugged her tightly and set her on her feet with a light smack on her towel-covered cheek. “Go eat. I’m going to grab a shower then join you. Save me a little.”

“You better hurry.” Over her shoulder she winked.

He did hurry, giving her world record cleaning a run for its money. Law was ready to sit across the table from Magdalena and drink her in as he ate the hell out of his meal. Only he didn’t find her putting a dent in the mountain of food Khani brought.

The box sat, opened but abandoned, on the table. The television warbled from the dresser and Magdalena sat on the edge of the bed, her feet propped on the railing, typing furiously onto the laptop’s keyboard. Her hair hung wet on her shoulders, and a crop of gooseflesh grew on her skin.

“I saw him,” she said.

“Who? And where?” Immediately, his grip firmed on the gun he’d brought with him into the bathroom.

“The weasel. On the TV.”

Law plucked a towel from a short stack and hurried to Magdalena. He knelt at her feet and spread the cloth over her shoulders, lifting her wet hair atop it. She continued assaulting the computer with rapid strikes of her fingers which no longer seemed so delicate, but skillful and determined. As tenacious as the woman they belonged to.

“What are you looking for?”

“He was in the background at a press conference for the Prime Minister.”

The hunger in his gut twisted, forming an entirely different and unwelcome sensation. His phone vibrated on the nightstand and he reached for it, if for no other reason than to give his brain a second to catch up. Khani’s encrypted phone number showed on the I.D. and he hit the screen to accept the call. The question she asked in lieu of a greeting had the one-two punch effect of rendering him momentarily mute. He dropped the phone from his mouth and stared at Magdalena. After a second she met his gaze and stilled.

“What?”

“Did you know Willow’s father was the Minister of State for Trade and Investment, the Lord Wren?”

“Oh my God.” Her hands froze on the keys and her shoulders slumped.

“Your hour just got cut in half, Khani. Get here as soon as you can. Magdalena saw the dick that started all this at a press conference for the Prime Minister.”

Law hung up before she had time to gauge or ask questions he didn’t know the answers to, yet. He shoved the computer and phone to the side and grabbed Magdalena’s ice-cold hands.

“We’ve been friends for so long, he’s just always been Willow’s dad to me. Not some power wielding government official. I’ve never even met him, busy as he is.”

“It’s no coincidence Willow’s dad is a member of the House of Lords and you saw the perpetrator in the press core, so near the Prime Minister.”

“Law, he wasn’t with the press. He was in the background with the Minister’s staff.”

T
hey dressed
in a rush then Mags sat back at the computer scouring the Prime Minister’s official site for the weasel’s picture, his name, and business relation to the head of state. Law sat beside her studying the pages she clicked and scrolled through, offering bites of maple-syrup-covered waffle and fried chicken. Despite how her stomach grumbled its appreciation, she couldn’t taste the food she chewed and swallowed to appease the insistent man.

The same sharp knock from earlier made her heart leap. Law left her and answered the door with gun in hand. She glanced at Khani Slaughter only long enough to toss her a nod of hello before finding the events gallery and scrolling through a myriad of faces. The pictures ran the gambit from summits to formal meetings to full out galas. People shook hands. Patted shoulders. Smiled widely. Some wore finery. In other pictures, business dress was the call. Luckily, each formal picture where people stood in rigid lines in succession of shortest to tallest and skinniest to fattest came with its own legend stacked neatly beneath.

The bed dipped on her left and she canted her head to Khani. The sharp woman wore head to toe black, from her hair to her trim fitted pantsuit, with the exception of her moss-green eye shadow, orangish-red lip stain, and similarly colored stiletto sling-backs. The color popped her off the strictly business page. That, and something in her storm-clouded eyes said she was much more than a businesswoman. She already bore witness to her calm under pressure and skill with a needle and thread.

Magdalena thought Khani had such a pitifully tiny list of things she couldn’t do that her can-do list overshadowed it by miles and miles. Proving her right, the raven haired beauty pulled a laptop from her case and ticked her fingers across the keys with speed and accuracy rivaling her own.

“Maybe I can help,” Khani offered.

“I’m scrolling through a million pictures looking for the guy. He has dark hair, is tall and rail thin. He looks like the human version of a weasel.”

“Like the long rodent?” Her upper lip curled.

“It’s carnivorous. Non-rodent, but you’ve got the jest.”

Law sat on her right, continuing to feed her, while Khani quickly maneuvered to the site and discovered just how many pictures they had to click through. She groaned.

“Screw this.” Khani handed her a piece of paper and a pen. “Write down the station you saw the guy on and when.”

She wrote the info and handed it to Khani. “What good will it do?”

“Lots of people owe me favors. I’ll collect a few,” Law’s friend said.

“I suppose I owe you a few already.”

Khani looked past her at Law and smiled. “Nah, family doesn’t count.”

“But I’m not your family,” Mags said.

“Not yet,” Khani sing-songed.

When Law stuffed his cock inside her, damn near to her throat, and talked shamelessly about all the naughty things he wanted to do to her or described what he did to her, Magdalena hadn’t blushed a bit. But heat crept up her neck and over her face at Khani’s words. Though she could see him out of the corner of her eye she didn’t dare look at Law, afraid to see the same blush across his cheeks, or worse, horror.

Mags trained her eyes on the computer screen and sifted through the pictures. Whether it was a waste of time or not, with the type of power and technology Khani had at her disposal, she needed something besides her ripped lover to keep her gaze and mind busy. Khani stood and paced while barking orders into her phone. Magdalena clicked and scrolled until her hand, wrist, and forearm cramped then did it some more.

“We’ll have the footage within the half-hour,” Khani said. “Then we can run facial recognition on him. If the guy does work for anyone in the Cabinet, his information will be in the system.”

“Then I’ll go pay him a visit.” Law’s voice hinted at a smile on his lips, but Mags didn’t look.

“I don’t think we’ll need the footage.”

She stared into the black, beady eyes of the man who’d assaulted Willow. In the picture his hair sat neatly quaffed atop his head, not slicked back in the greasy rendition it had been at her flat. He smiled brightly at an attractive young woman, clutching a stack of books. Magdalena’s heart churned, wondering what he’d done to that poor girl, what he’d done to other unassuming women.

Law’s hand settled over hers, stalling her quakes. “I’ll get him. Don’t worry.”

Khani sat beside them and hunched toward the screen. “He looks like a bastard and a weasel. Click on the enlargement.” She did and they all leaned closer to the screen. “That’s the Minister of State for Schools, Livingston Hues, beside him.”

Magdalena’s breath caught.

“What?” Law asked.

“The banner in the far left-hand corner. The Council for Higher Education.”

Law cussed and Khani’s fingers worked her computer like Elton John did the piano.

Mags took her hand back to join in the search. She didn’t know what Khani sought, but she went straight to the Council’s website and read aloud. “The Council for Higher Education. An international non-profit organization dedicated to fulfilling higher education needs for the less privileged, connecting US and UK foreign exchange programs at the college level, and fostering the non-traditional student’s needs through low-cost childcare and work-study programs.

“Director: Livingston Hues. Co-Director: Haltman Weaver. That fucking prick.”

His
I’m a wonderful guy
smile shined below his title.

Khani leaned around her again. “You can keep her. She’s hot, smart, and she cusses like me. What’s not to like?”

“Focus, Khani.” Law shook his head, but Mags caught the curve of his mouth.

“Yeah, work your magic.” Mags agreed and pointed at the two men. “We need to know everything there is to know about this organization. I have a puke-worthy feeling that this has everything to do with what happened to Willow.”

“Before he knew I was there, this guy asked Willow if someone else had told her he gets every part of her. Weaver said,
he
. It could be Hues.”

“It could be any one of a million people,” Law interjected. “But this is a great place to start digging.”

“I’m in their financials now,” Khani said.

“How did you—”

Law quieted her question with another bite of waffle. She wouldn’t get an answer anyway, so she opened for him. For the first time since Khani had made her red as a blood rose, Magdalena looked into Law’s vibrant eyes. He heated her with a gaze that saw right through to her wild thoughts about one day becoming part of his family. Coming home from a hard day’s work or welcoming him home from a long day’s whatever the hell he did. Snuggling up to him every, or most nights, for sleep. Cuddling up to him in the mornings for a little pre-dawn hot and hard.

“I want that, you know.” Law said with a wink.

Magdalena’s heart shimmied and shook inside her chest, but she didn’t say a word. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if he was talking about what she was thinking about. Khani saved her with an exaggerated cough.

“Who needs to focus?” Khani slanted her head at them both. “Oh, give me some of that. The chicken.” She nodded with rounded eyes.

“I’m the muscle behind this mission.” Law shrugged.

Both of the women nearly choked on their tongues. “And the muscle happens to have a lovely brain. So, how about we put it to use?” Mags said.

With the three of them working it took five hours and lunch, but they connected The Council for Higher Education with three offshore accounts. Twelve prominent colleges had signed contracts with the company. Its donor roster read like the roster for a top tier multi-government summit. Hundreds of millions in illegal donations funneled through the books with only an easily breakable facade of actual donations or good achieved by the group.

“So, we still don’t know what all this has to do with Willow and her father.” Magdalena paced as she reiterated the obvious.

“No, but we know who has the answers,” Khani said.

“And you know just the person to get them out of him,” Law added.