On the Edge of Love (Mama's Brood Book 1) (11 page)

“No,” Zeus said.

She didn’t pay him any mind. She watched Almaya look from Terry to Big Country. She could almost hear the other woman’s internal dialogue playing odds, weighing pros and cons, thinking logistics, factoring in contingency plans. Almaya’s gaze became focused again, and she smiled at Sabrina with regret. “I’m going to side with Zeus on this. I appreciate the offer, but we pulled you out of that warehouse to keep you out of Kragen’s hands. I can’t willingly place you there again.”

“You people don’t seem to understand. I am going home. You can let me do it alone, or you can take advantage of an opportunity.”

“How long will it take to bring the others back?” Terry asked Almaya.

“We can have Bride and Lynx back within the next couple of hours. Coen and Price, no later than midnight if they do a turnaround,” Big Country answered.

Almaya wasn’t happy, but she nodded. “Call them back home, then.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. We can have Sabrina back in her apartment this evening with full surveillance,” Terry said.

“What about the police?” Big Country asked.

“She goes to the police station. You’ll tell them everything that happened up to the point of waking in the warehouse. From there you escaped when the kidnappers went outside still thinking you were unconscious. You passed out in the brush along the road, and when you regained consciousness, you made your way to the main road. A Good Samaritan came along and picked you up, and took you to OPD,” Terry said.

“We keep Bride and the boys on her night and day,” Almaya said, eyes brightening as she smiled at Terry. “When Kragen tries to have her snatched, we take down his men and turn them over to the police.”

“In your report to the police, Sabrina, you say that when you were first kidnapped and pretending to be unconscious, you heard them talk about their boss coming for you. A man named Kragen.” Terry added. “Maybe then we can leak information about the other women. Women who look like you kidnapped and turning up dead. We can help them draw the same conclusions our man on the inside arrived at.”

“No,” Zeus said again. They all waited to see what specifically he objected to, but he remained silent.

Sabrina narrowed her eyes as she looked up at him. “Yes,” she said, ready to fight for Terry and Almaya’s plan. It was reasonable, and she could make the story sound believable. But the logic of the plan isn’t what Zeus has a problem with, she thought as she watched him. Zeus wasn’t complicated. He wanted her, and he didn’t want her being hurt; otherwise that would interfere with his ability to have her.

Changing tactics, she pushed aside her anger and softened her demeanor. “This won’t work unless you play your part, Zeus.”

“I won’t.”

Stubborn idiot.

“What part do you want him to play, Sabrina?” Terry asked, following the lead Zeus refused to take.

“My personal bodyguard? My savior? My boyfriend? Only Randy will know the last one is a lie. Zeus would stay with me in my studio, protect me from the inside. As crazy as it sounds, I believe he’ll keep me safe from this Kragen or anyone else he might send.”

Zeus stroked his jaw. “I get to stay with you?”

“At least until this whole thing is resolved.”

His lips turned up in a kind of smug smirk-grin thing. He resembled both a devil and a god. Lord, what had she just committed herself to?

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Zeus stated.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. Of course it did. Now she’d just have to be on constant guard in her own home.

* * * *

Basir sat across from Maxim, sipping Turkish coffee. The stuff resembles brown silt, Maxim thought as he watched the older man settle the demitasse cup on its saucer. It had been over two years since he’d seen Basir in person. Only eight years older than Maxim, Basir, even with the strands of gray in his hair, looked much younger than his age. He was vain and prideful, so he kept his body taut and slender, his hair well-groomed, his beard and mustache cropped short and meticulous. It all added to the illusion of agelessness. Basir liked to give the impression, to both enemies and allies, that he had been and would be around forever.

A member of the Consortium for over a decade and a half, Basir had managed the group’s activities in the Bay from his estate on the outskirts of Union City, California. He was a traditional man, if one did not look beneath his claims of honoring family and faith. He regularly used his spiritually enlightened persona to manipulate his subordinates and those too ignorant to know better. Years before, Maxim had heard one of Basir’s staff state that Basir was a “bad prophet,” not because he was corrupt or violent, but because he drank alcohol and behaved in ways with women not condoned by their religious teachings. Of course the man who had spoken against Basir had died violently not long after uttering those words. The dead man’s insight had reinforced Maxim’s long-standing irreverence toward people who proclaimed themselves the mouthpiece of God. Once a man of influence in his native land of Algeria, Basir commanded the same respect, if not more, from the people within his South Bay community, as well as across many other religious faiths.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Maxim said. “I didn’t want to show any disrespect by arriving to your area unannounced. As you may know, I was scheduled to attend the conference in London, but more urgent matters have called me here.”

“Can I be of assistance?” Basir asked. Maxim had the distinct impression assistance was the last thing Basir wanted to offer him.

“Thank you for your graciousness, but this is a situation I must handle myself.”

Basir nodded as if he understood. “It is good you attend to your responsibilities. It lets those around you know you are a man of worth.”

Maxim bowed his head once in thanks. “I will be here on personal business for the next few days. While I am here, I may even organize a benefit in San Francisco.”

“This is good,” Basir said, hesitated, then asked, “Is it to be a Consortium-sponsored event?”

Maxim contrived a chuckle. “No. I don’t have the luxury of indulging in such entertainments this trip, but I’m sure the men gathering in London are enjoying the privileges of membership as we speak.”

“Yes,” Basir agreed, contemplating Maxim with the cold-eyed regard of a snake in waiting.

Maxim returned the look with self-assurance. He couldn’t be intimidated by a mere look. The idea that he could was absurd. Basir obviously didn’t understand what it meant to be raised a Kragen.

“It’s a mystery that you would not be at your father’s side for this conference. There are many concerning matters he must face with the recent attacks on our holdings. I’m certain he is disappointed you are not there. A good son should stand by his father.”

Maxim’s father had never regarded him as a good son. Maxim certainly hadn’t regarded him as a good father. That Basir considered it his duty to scold Maxim was interesting. Was it Basir’s delusions of spiritual omnipotence that led him to believe they shared that kind of relationship?

“What I have found in this life is that a man must be his own man first. If not, he is destined to play the role of someone’s boy forever,” Maxim said, sinking deeper into the wing-backed chair, crossing his legs as he took a sip of the herbal tea that had been given to him. “How is Erani by the way? I thought to stop by and say hello to him while I’m in the Bay Area. Is he still in San Francisco?”

The reason Maxim didn’t miss the slight tightening around Basir’s eyes was because he had been watching for it. A direct hit, landed squarely at the heart of the other man’s pride. One day Maxim would pay heed to Reed’s advice and become less vindictive, but at moments like this it was nearly impossible. He was sure Reed would agree.

Basir motioned for the servant standing by the door. The man wore a top and pants of a fawn, linen-like material, with a head wrap to match. The wispy material moved fluidly around his body as he carried a tray of aperitifs toward them.

“So what business really brings the heir apparent of the Kragen empire to beautiful California?” Basir asked.

“My own.” There was nothing gained by allowing the other man to believe he had the power or the right to question Maxim’s actions.

Basir smiled slightly. “Ah. Your own.” He stood. “Well, I wish you success in all you do here and thank you for paying your respects. Please let me know if I can offer assistance in any way. Lamentably I have another appointment scheduled.”

Maxim stood, bowing slightly. “Thank you for your hospitality and for making the time to see me. If someone could escort me to a restroom, I will then be on my way.”

Basir motioned for the servant, and Maxim followed him from the room and down two halls that led deeper into the home’s interior. When they rounded a corner, Maxim stopped. “Can you please wait a moment? There is one bit of business I forgot to impart to your employer.”

The servant nodded and stood against the wall to wait as Maxim walked back the way he had come. Nearing Basir’s office, he heard voices—one Basir’s and the other he wasn’t able to identify. His father and a few other members of the Consortium were suspicious of Basir’s failure to attend the meeting in London. Especially since one of the three establishments exposed had been within Basir’s territory. There was a leak in the organization, and it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Basir would betray the Consortium if he believed his reasons just.

“…to have him monitored?”

“Yes, that is the order. It’s not that I don’t trust my young friend…just that I want to know what it is he does here…”

Maxim didn’t wait to listen to the rest of the conversation. He walked back down the hall until he came upon the servant who didn’t appear to have moved an inch from his post.

Maxim smiled at the attendant. “I was too late. I think his other appointment has arrived. I guess I’ll have my assistant leave him a message this evening.”

The servant proved to be less than interested. He led Maxim to the restroom and waved him inside.

Once outside, Maxim walked to the town car. Reed and Eddie leaned against it, talking low until they saw Maxim. Eddie walked around the front of the car, taking his position in the driver’s seat as Reed held the door to the backseat open for Maxim. When they were all settled inside and driving down the horseshoe-shaped carport toward the main road, Reed turned to him. “Everything go okay?”

“It went as expected. That is, until I heard Basir give an order to have me followed.”

“Sounds expected to me,” Eddie said. “From what I hear, the Algerian is perpetually paranoid.”

Maxim smiled. “Perpetually paranoid?”

“From what I hear.” The driver shrugged.

Maxim wanted to laugh, the first time he’d had the urge since finding the empty truck and no Sabrina. His driver’s humor was as dry as a desert stuck in summer.

“The teams made it to the Bay. I put them up at a house in San Mateo. We’re headed there,” Reed informed him.

“Good.” He would have his prize back in no time. “Reed, we need to think about scheduling a benefit while we’re in the Bay Area.”

“A benefit?”

“Yes, I’m thinking maybe for missing persons or runaways.” In honor of Sabrina. “It could negate some of the negative press linked to the Consortium with the recent raids.”

“If nothing else, it could help distance the Kragen name from those corrupt members depraved enough to partake in criminal activities.”

They shared a moment of laughter.

“In my abbreviated time in Basir’s presence I realized how little cash-and-carry information I have on some of the members of the Consortium.” Maxim tapped the window as he reflected. “In Basir’s own words, ‘the heir apparent to the Kragen empire’ should know, beyond their awareness, the people he is working with. I want full financial, family, social, religious, and charitable contributions on all the higher-ups. And you can feel free to include any other information you deem pertinent to my understanding.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Also, find out why Basir is not at the conference in London.” He faced forward. “Eddie, before we go meet the team, let’s take a trip to the Mission District. I haven’t seen my old friend Erani in many years.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow as he peered at Maxim from the rearview mirror, nodding.

“I’m surprised Basir didn’t sanction some kind of honor killing against Erani once he came out as gay,” Reed said.

“Never underestimate the power of a woman,” Maxim said. “Basir’s wife is extremely fond of her youngest son, and as powerful as Basir is, there are some battles that are impossible to win. What’s happening with the photo?”

“It’s clean. No prints, no DNA. Digital camera and digital printer. Beyond that, we just have the image taken.”

“Reed,” Maxim said as they drove over the Dumbarton Bridge. “I need you to provide me with a distraction until Sabrina arrives. You know what I’m looking for.”

“Yes, sir,” Reed said as he tapped on his tablet’s surface, bringing up the database that identified locations of women in the Bay Area who resembled Sabrina. Maxim didn’t presume to understand how Reed had discovered and organized the same information the world over; however, he greatly appreciated Reed’s ingenuity and paid him well for it.

He’d made the right decision to come to California and retrieve Sabrina himself, Maxim thought. The weather in Union City was tropical despite the fact that it was the middle of winter. His woman had chosen well to move to the Bay Area. The apartment she lived in was just above common squalor, but the oceanfront house they would soon call home would suit her personality to perfection.

He grew hard as he thought of Sabrina and all the ways he would have her display her gratitude.

Chapter Four

She had good tits. Not perfect. They hung slightly lower than what he was used to dealing with, and showed a few faint stretch marks when she didn’t have her bra on, but they were full, firm. Definitely not perfect, but they would be just right for him. He relived the memory of the weight of them in his palm, the puckered, raisin-colored nipple peaked in greedy arousal, the just-right shape and size for his lips to suck, for his teeth to graze, bite.