Minty Page 3

Last night had been wrong. Not in what he had done to the woman. Fuck, he had done a lot worse to a lot more unwilling. The sub in Rex’s pad was willing. It was wrong because he kept thinking of soft long light brown hair hiding pale hazel eyes. Fuck, he thought he kept smelling mint. Who the hell had given her that name?

  He turned the water to cold, then off. He got out and smiled at himself. Hell, he was going to hurt a lot of submissive partners, kill a lot of rogues before he got some mint blood so that he could get away from her.

  He came out to find that Rex was alone. “Everything cool?”

  Rex smiled. “Yep, I got her on her feet, gave her a couple thousand, and wiped the memory of the location of this place away. She begged me to invite her again, especially the next time you were in town. Go figure.”

  Chapter Four

  Minty was curled up on the couch. She had on sweats, socks, and two blankets over her, but she was still cold. She had not slept well. She would doze off, dreaming that she was in the dark and a huge male body was pressing up against her. She would wake up in a sweat, but she was freezing. She finally moved from her bed to the couch because there were more lights in the small living room.

  Two of the lamps in the living room had back up batteries in case the power went out. In the long winters in this area of Illinois, the power went out often during heavy snowstorms. She had learned early to keep lots of batteries and flashlights along with automatic backups.

  She had turned on the TV with the volume up loud, but that didn’t work, so she shut it off. She had gotten up, warmed up some milk, but only drank half. She tossed the rest, then washed the glass. So here she sat, cold, hugging her knees, her shades open to let the light in, the TV on again, making noise in the background she could not hear. Still, the impression of a large body pressed up against her from behind.

  This was a new twist on the nightmare. It had all started when she was placed in a home for orphaned children that were too old to adopt. It was in a nice location. They were all clean, fed well, and had relatively good clothes.

  She had talked to a counselor for a year about all of this. There had been no help, no relief. There remained only deep pain for bringing the memories out in a clean neat room with nice leather furniture. A counselor with certificates on the wall, but no real understanding of what real inner pain meant.

  The girls bedrooms were on the inside, the boys were on the outside. This meant the boys had windows. But there were bars on the windows with heavy drapes that blocked out the light. When 9:30 came, it was lights out, making the rooms dark. At 11 they turned the hall lights off also, so it was pitch black.

  You could not see your hand in front of your face. She had tried it many times. It was not too bad when she was young enough to share a room with another, but when she reached puberty, she was separated, so this was when she began to hate the dark.

  One night they came. She had no idea who it was, but there were two of them. They came to beat her. They did not molest her, they just beat her body. She had something stuffed into her mouth as she struggled. She screamed silently as they beat her on her thighs, back, butt and stomach. She never knew who it was or why they beat her. It was not every night. The bruising was hidden by her clothes.

  Because she did not know who it was, she did not know who to report the mistreatments to—she might be telling the very person who was involved.

  So for several months, every third or fourth night, two people slipped into her room in the dead dark, held her down, and beat her mercilessly for hours. Finally, one night, they beat her so bad that she slipped into unconsciousness. She was found the next morning and taken to the clinic.

  The nurse checked her over and the police were called. They asked her a lot of questions and she told them the truth, which was very little. They questioned everyone in the school but got no answers. She was transferred to a home that had six children and the people were kind. They let her have the lights on. From that time forward she could not be in the dark. Yet, deep within, she missed it. She thought of the paintings in the museum.

  The counselor suggested some type of regression therapy, going into dark rooms, etc. and she broke out into a sweat at just the thought. The counselor worried that it was not healthy for her because her heart rate had accelerated. She stopped going to the counselor. She didn’t go into dark places. Yet she thought of herself as being sick inside, because she missed it.

  But last night, with the large body pressing against her in the almost dark, she had felt a sexual experience. That was different, so what the hell was that all about? She shivered, cold with no way to get warm. This was the way she spent the weekend. Eating very little, doing very little, sleeping restlessly in short bursts, not afraid of waking with a beating, but waking feeling a body pressing against her back.

  On Monday she was actually relieved to go to work. The bright lights in the office suited her very well. A couple of people remarked that she didn’t look well, but she just smiled, moving on. People were used to her not talking much, so she was able to get to her computer for her tracings.

  At noon her boss came by. “Hey, are you okay? You look tired, not the flu I hope?”

  She look up, deciding the truth would do. “I just haven’t been sleeping well. I will be okay.”

  “Look, you do better than anyone else on the computer, why don’t you spend the next couple of days just tracing. I will trade out the others on your window.”

  She thanked him gratefully and spent the time very well, for both her and the state, chasing misguided fathers. That evening, on the way home, she stopped at the pharmacy and looked at all the sleeping concoctions. She picked up a couple and took them over to the pharmacy window to ask the woman in the white jacket which she would suggest for someone who never had tried any and who did not drink much. A person who had never used party drugs. The pharmacist suggested one that did have a little alcohol in it, saying it would be more relaxing and create less nausea or after affects.

  She read the directions, ate a late supper so that she did not take it on an empty stomach, and finally got ready for bed. This meant double locking everything, turning every light on, leaving the TV on without sound. She took a tablespoon of the liquid as she sat on the bed, then lay down under the covers.

  She fell asleep almost immediately and slept comfortably for several hours without dreams. Then the dreams started.

  Chapter Five

  Alex and Rad went hunting alone Saturday night. They were looking for a nightwalker that was part of the rogue organization. They did not want Rad’s team to know how they were going to get information. Both Rad and Alex had abilities beyond the normal nightwalker—there was no need to let others know how or what they could do as some of it might not be nice.

  It took them most of the night to find the right one and get him separated from others. They got him into a vacant warehouse. Rad let Alex go to work on him.

  Alex had him spread eagled on a railing. The rogue had put up a good front. He was brave, was not going to break, was not going to tell them anything. Alex looked at him with a wicked smile. Then Alex went into his head, looking for the dark. What had he done that he was ashamed of, what had been done to him that left him powerless, what had really hurt him, what was he hiding and what was he protecting?

  It only took an hour to break him. Alex smiled the entire time. He was not worth much when it was all done, but Rad had the information they needed. They knew who was leading the rogues, who had the money, and where the center and housing was located.

  Rad dusted the nightwalker. Both men were sickened by the things that nightwalker had previously done, acts that had come out when Alex had opened him up mentally. The rogue disgusted them. They had a hard time understanding how these rogues could do what they were doing to their own kind, especially the families.

  They spent the rest of the day with Rad’s team making plans. Finally, after a rest on Sunday night, Alex had a chance to talk alone with Rad.

&n
bsp; “Blood Brother, I have a problem.”

  The large dark enforcer looked over at his blood brother, a quizzical expression on his face.

  “Share.”

  “Well, Misty thought she might have been able to trace a relative that was turned in as a child, the same day she was dropped off as a baby. She has asked me to find her and get a blood sample back to her.”

  Rad looked over at Alex, but waited for him to continue.

  “I have found her.”

  Another silence.

  “I am drawn to her.”

  “Alex, is she mortal?”

  Alex looked around the room as if there were answers on the walls instead of in his head.

  “I don’t know. Is Misty mortal? If she is related to Misty, she will be the same, and we haven’t determined what that is, have we?”

  Rad stood up and paced around turned back. “Does she have the same scent?”

  “She has a strong appealing scent. Ask Rex. But it is a little different from Misty’s.”

  Again Rad paced. He stopped at the bench that had his knives laid out and started cleaning them, using an oil cloth to wipe them down. “Well, you need to get the blood sample. That will tell us a lot of what we need to know. It is interesting that maybe Misty wasn’t the only one in her family.”

  Alex watched him handle the knives, knowing how important such weapons were to an enforcer. He didn’t say anything, waiting for his friend to figure out the rest.

  Finally Rad turned. “Fuck, you want more than a sample of blood.”

  “She is beautiful. In a soft, fragile way. Like the paintings we enjoyed in the last century. Pale skin, jade eyes, light brown hair almost blond. Her wrists are so thin they would snap like a toothpick.” Alex spread his hands in front of him in exasperation.

  Rad turned, leaning against the bench, one of the knives being tossed from hand to hand. “And your dark side?”

  Alex hung his head. “It feeds from her.”

  Alex could hear the deep sigh all the way across the room. He looked up at Rad. Rad had never censored him or judged him. Rad had a live and let live attitude, as long as it was between consenting adults. Well unless he needed to use Alex’s talents to get info from a rogue. Alex knew what Rad was thinking. What did that talent do to an unprepared, non-consenting mortal?

  “I guess that means you have used it?”

  Alex looked up. “Only once, it was an accident. But it was like a taste of something that was automatically addictive.”

  “Well doesn’t this just get fuckin’ interesting.”

  Alex just sat waiting because he really didn’t know what to do besides either go back to Rome or go to her.

  “Look, you need to get the blood sample. You also need not to hurt her, well, you know, damage her. See if you can do that over the next couple of days. I would also like you here, along with some of your people, when we move in on the center, so keep in touch.”

  So here he stood, leaning against the wall on a corner of an alley that let him look up at the windows of her apartment. It was Monday night. She had settled down to sleep several hours ago. She had every light on with the TV flickering without the voice.

  He lit a slim cigar and closed his eyes as he drew in the smoke, letting it out slowly. Then his mind entered the apartment. He found the fuse box, tripped the circuit breakers, the backup batteries and shut everything off in the apartment. For the first time since she had moved in, the apartment was dark. With his mind he pushed the door shut to her bedroom, He closed the blinds. Now he had her totally in the dark. He was not going to hurt her. He was going to be gentle. But he knew the panic she would feel from the dark. His erection was already pushing against his jeans.

  Drawing in another long pull of smoke, he entered her mind, feeling the languid feel of the drug, like walking thru knee high muck. This suited his needs right now, as he didn’t want her awake yet. He gave her the suggestion that the clothes were to tight, too hot. They were itchy and strangling her. She needed to breathe, she needed out of them. She started tossing, turning, throwing off the blankets and inching out of the loose bottoms. She threw her arms, twisted and scratched her stomach. She grabbed the top, yanking it off, finally settling down on top of the blankets, sprawled out legs apart, arms over her head.

  He waited a few more minutes, enjoying the smoke. He stretched the hard feel of his cock, the tight feel of the boys below. Sometimes anticipation was all a part of it. Inside her mind he woke her up. He felt her confusion at first as she turned over in her bed. It took her a moment to realize that her eyes were open.

  Her eyes were open. It was dark and her eyes were open. She could not see anything. There was no light. Where were her lights? She felt her breath tie up in her chest as she tried to figure out where she was, in her apartment, somewhere else? Where were her lights, the backup system, what had happened? She sat up, she knew she was still in her bed. It felt like her bed. She got on her knees, sitting back on her heels, afraid to move too far in the dark.

  She felt it. Someone else was in the room with her. Oh no, please, no. The panic set in. She felt the tremor in her legs. She didn’t hear them, didn’t know where they were, but someone else was here.

  Sit still and spread your knees. The voice was in her head.

  Yes, no, whatever you want just don’t hurt me. Oh please, please. She pushed her knees apart hoping in her mind they were far enough apart to please.

  He sucked in on the cigar and dumped it in a dish on a stand. Fuck, she was a submissive in the deepest sense of the word. She was in deep, deep trouble. He was the worst predator for her. But there was more—he could talk to her in her mind.

  He went in deeper with his mind, lowered imaginary hot warm lips to a breast. She shuddered, drawing back.

  Do not draw back or I will hurt you—push your breast up for my lips and teeth.

  She shook as she took a hand, placed it under the breast and pushed the plump globe upward into the imagery mouth. He pulled and sucked on the breast. She cried within her mind. Oh God, please don’t. But if he likes this, maybe he won’t hurt me.

  Please don’t hurt me, I will do anything. Don’t hurt me. Oh God, I am such a coward. I am so ashamed, but I need this. Why, I don’t know, but deep inside, I need this. This keeps the pain away.

  She arched her back as the hot mouth sucked, pulled and raked teeth over the nub of her breast, still she pushed the globe up as high as she could. Tears were slipping down her face. She felt another feeling. She jerked the muscles of her stomach. It was a ghostly hand between her legs.

  Spread your knees further apart.

  Oh no, please no. She whimpered in her mind but also she felt a heat of arousal start to draw moisture from within her female folds. How could she react to this when she was so afraid? She was so ashamed but still sitting on her heels she pushed her knees as far apart as she could. She wanted this.

  The hot mouth was still clamped around the nipple as if it had a suction so that it would not leave go without a hard pull. She was afraid to stop pushing the breast up. She waited for the voice to tell her what to do so that maybe he wouldn’t hurt her.

  Please do not hurt me. Her head was back on her neck.

  Put your hand between your female lips and rub your clit. The voice was inside.

  No, no I can’t. Wait, please don’t hurt me, I will try. She reached down and found that she was wet and swollen—how could she react to this horrid threat? Because pleasure was the reward for the pain.

  She tentatively moved her fingers back and forth gently. It felt so good. God no, I can’t do this to myself. Please no.

  Do it faster and harder. Do not be soft, be hard.

  She had no choice, she felt herself abusing her own body, pushing back and forth again and again, the voice telling her to do it faster, harder. She felt all the muscles tightening as she came, moisture pouring over her hand. Her breath coming in gasps, her neck muscles tightening. She started to move but the evil voice w
as there to torture her.

  No, do it all again, hard and fast.

  Oh God, please no, I am so ashamed. How could I have liked that, please don’t hurt me, please oh, I will do it again, just don’t hurt me.

  She pumped again, sure that her body would not react, but the body was its own traitor, and it reacted, the muscles tightened and the nub which was becoming sore but very responsive to the touch began to swell into a tight blood filled blossom and she rubbed, harder, faster, feeling it was not her body, feeling the shame, begging for mercy. She was feeling the greatest approach of a release that she had ever felt. She actually came again, on her knees, her breast pushed out, her head back, her muscles pumped with the release and ecstasy streaking through her as she struggled to stay seated on her heels.

  She almost blacked out as she worked to bring precious air into her lungs, to maintain her position on the bed. She heard the wicked voice again and she cried out loud.

  “No, please no more, I can’t.” But the voice was there in the dark with her.

  Again, harder and faster or I will hurt you. She had no more tears so she moved her hand again over the tender flesh.

  The nub burned, torn raw from her misuse, but it also responded. She felt muscles pulling almost immediately. She felt a pain of one muscle deep in her lower stomach, into her groin, but she was afraid to stop. She was so ashamed, such a coward. Her hand and arm was tired but she gritted her teeth, pushed up and down, rolling the raw nub and the warm red lips wet with the moisture seeping out of her body.

  “I can’t, I can’t” she screamed at the dark.

  Harder, faster.

  She did what the voice told, the pain at the nub increased the heat, the response of her body. She felt the build of another climax as it finally hit. She felt all her muscles shudder, tighten and pull. She fell over, unconscious on the bed.

  He turned, facing away from the road and unzipped his jeans. His erection jerked out with the semen pouring out, ejecting away from his body. He held onto the brick to steady himself until the convulsions passed. He took a large handkerchief out and cleaned himself. He refused to think at this point. He had a few items to clean up. He mentally drifted into her bedroom, opened her door and her blinds. Let her wake up to the dim lights from outside.