Pn1 (4 page)

neck try to stand up straight, but then she was reminded of where all

her pain radiated from, her damn hair. She tried to sit up, but her head

felt like it was spinning.

"You might discover a slight impediment to moving, though you

can get around the room to a limited degree." He laughed stoically.

She didn't care if he had a voice of liquid velvet that tickled her ears

with sensuous vibrations; he was really beginning to annoy her. Why

did he sound so smug, and when the hell had he changed and this

wasn't a hotel room was it? Her mind bubbled with questions bursting

into each other. Focus, she needed to move or her neck was going to

fall off.

Trying to roll onto her hands and knees spiked the pain to

overwhelming. Her eyes watered and a scream lifted off her tongue

and escaped before she realized it was her making the sound.

"It's not that bad is it?" He stood and moved into her comfort zone.

Helena tried to sit back on her heels to face him, but she fell over,

her head ratcheting back and then snapping up, pain washing down

her spine and transforming her flesh into goose bumps.

"Perhaps you'd like to assess your situation before making any

more moves. Isn't that what you do in the boardroom before taking

over another company to feed off more money reserves?" He bent

down and cupped her chin, pushing her head back so her eyes were

forced to look at the ceiling.

Her lashes spasmed, trying to get the image to change, but it didn't.

She hung from the ceiling by a rope tied around her hair? Please be a

dream, please. Her throat clenched and the sensation of passing out

warmed over her. A harsh slap rocked her head sideways with a palm

impacting her cheek.

"Oh no you don't. You aren't getting an easy out from this. Don't

make me throw ice water over you followed by near boiling liquid.

Trust me you won't like the experience." He slapped her again on the

other cheek with the back of his knuckles, making her head swing

back and forth like a pendulum.

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She tried to get words out but they came out a gargled stream of

incoherent sounds, all synonyms for the sound of fear.

"I can see you are beginning to comprehend your situation." He

grabbed the front of her throat and squeezed his fingers around her

jugular.

"Stop, you're choking me," she squealed.

"Not in the slightest. If I was choking you, you wouldn't be able to

speak." He let go, but not before leaving a trail of indentations where

his sharp nails had been. He bit at his nails. "You taste good, but I

bet other parts of you taste even better and moister.

Helena scrambled to her feet, twisting her body shut with arms and

legs clamped over her front to keep more distance between him and

her.

"Oh, you are clueless, aren't you? He reached over and drew his

nails down her cheek and snagged the top of her blouse, pulling her

towards him.

She refused to open her arms or legs so she fell into him, her

forehead pressed against his neck. Expecting to feel his pulse

clamoring like hers, she twisted her head so her ear was against his

throat. Nothing, did that mean toying with her was little more than a

game he cared little about? What did that mean for her situation, her

chances?

He pushed her away, making her falter and do a tap dance to stop

herself from twisting from the ceiling by only her hair. "I'd stop

trying to think you're way out of this. You don't have anywhere close

to enough facts to determine your situation or what's at stake, kind of

like the employees who come to work and find they have a new boss.

Consider yourself working for me now. Do you like being on the

other end or do you miss being in utter control with all the power?"

Helena spread her legs unwillingly to keep tension off her head and

stood up straight. "What do you want from me? Is this a vendetta

because of some business I took over? Whatever they are paying you I

can double."

"Really, I'd expected more than bad TV lines from you. You're

supposed to be smart and this is what you say? Come on." He bent his

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head and looked at her dismissively. "Don't tell me I'm wrong about

you. I want to think there is something going on in that head of yours,

or you are of no use to me."

Helena realized she was sweating.
Think, think dammit
. She was

alive and he could have killed her by now. Her body told her nothing

had been forced into her pussy so he hadn't raped her despite the

opportunity.

He was trying to scare her for sure, but why and for whom? It had

to be about tomorrow's take over. What else was occurring right now

at Palmer to warrant this? She had received threats over Clark the

other day.

He clearly needed something from her or she wouldn't be here. The

question was would he kill her after he got what he wanted? Chances

didn't favor anyone finding her in this hell hole. Certainly he'd turned

her phone off so no one could track her.

"Now that's better. I hear your brain kicking into gear, quite noisy

in that head of yours. Can't make out the precise details, but you are

wondering I'm sure what your future holds. I would if I was you, and

I suspect we are quite similar in mindset." He circled her, making her

head bob around to keep him in sight. He stopped behind her, his

chest making her head go forward, his thighs and stomach pressing

into her back.

She'd expected him to warm her up, not that she wanted any more

heat, but the coolness confused her as if he was drawing her warmth

out of her body, and she began to shiver.

"Constantine."

A new male voice crackled past the blood pounding in her ears and

made her jump, her neck spasming as it fought to keep both men in

view. The impossibility made her neck seize up, trying to rotate in

two directions at once. She whimpered, and attempted to walk

sideways to keep them both in sight.

Pain twisted from the crown of her head down the back of her scalp

to meet up with the agony in her neck. Through watery eyes she

captured the two men staring at each other. It was clear the man

addressed as Constantine was in charge, the new comer's body

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language screamed secretary, not the kind she kept but one

nonetheless, a deadly one.

Constantine ground his teeth into each other. "What?" He walked

towards the man by circling as close to Helena as their clothes

allowed then veered to the doorway and walked past the new guy who

followed on his heels.

Helena strained her ears.

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"What?" Constantine stalked past Jason then reared around, testing

him. Just as he thought, Jason had previously stopped so he wasn't

bowled over. They were going to have a long, arduous conversation

once the Helena situation was under hand.

"Call came in. Council has pushed up the meeting by a week and a

half. It's in three days at the Mithraeum." Jason winced a second

before Constantine's hand whizzed past his face and indented the

cement wall nearest them.

"One of the contenders got to them." Constantine jump kicked the

spot his hand had hit to get more of the wall to disintegrate onto the

floor. "Fuck. We have no choice but to go past the niceties and rush

job this. I'm going to win this, Jason, there is no other option I'm

accepting as outcome."

Jason braced himself with arms folded behind his back and feet a

foot apart. "I thought that is what you would want."

Constantine's resolve to take care of one thing at a time broke. "Of

course you did. And is that because you have the spark, the telepathic

ability that labels you alpha capable?

Constantine took one large stride to be in Jason's face, his fingers

interlocking behind Jason's head, two long thumb nails curling around

to be a centimeter away from the dry eye ducts. "Answer me. I want

to know if you are a liar or not." Constantine dug into the tear ducts,

contacting blood. He pulled out one nail and bit the tip of his finger

then merged their blood together, reading Jason without mental blocks

capable of censoring. "Talk."

"I suspect I have the spark, Sir." Jason remained motionless, his

eyes firmly staring through Constantine, lids not daring to twitch.

Constantine pierced in further. "Will this be a problem? I need a

right-hand man, not someone playing his own game with stakes aimed

at my heart."

Only Jason's lips moved. "You have my allegiance, Sir."

Constantine extracted his nails and wiped the blood off on Jason's

hair. "Get over the rush I just gave you and take one of the grunts

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with you, tell the other one to come in here. It's time for someone else

to get a blood rush."

Jason backed away slowly without sound. "How long do you need

us gone? Hour?"

Constantine waved Jason past him without the need of answering.

His cell phone rang.

"Where are you? You should have been here hours ago."

Constantine rubbed his eyes. Joe Smith needed a good lashing.

"Sorry, Sir. There was a police blockade and we had to make a slight

detour. We are monitoring police frequencies and will be there as

soon as the coast is clear." Constantine ended the call without niceties

and turned his phone off. Joe Smith was on his own now to take the

blame and figure his way out of his own mess. Constantine hoped the

ransom letter had already been sent; that would keep the family and

police busy.

* * * *

more pressure on her head or lose awareness of when his stealth

presence re-entered the room; she trusted him to be as silent and

deadly as a viper.

Even if she was incapable of warding him off, she had to see it

happening like watching a phlebotomist's needle sink into a vein.

Why did everything about him make her think of piercing and blood?

What the hell had he drugged her with because it was making her hear

and fear things she knew didn't exist?

She gave herself a moment of weakness and looked behind her

shoulders at the pillows, if only she could bury herself there and wait

for her mom to find her. Shaking her head, she rid herself of that

ludicrous hope. No one was getting her out of this and certainly not

her mom.

She broke her lecherous gaze on the pillows and went back to

watching where she'd last spotted Constantine disappear. Her heart

stuttered mid beat and she felt something like a diaphragm slam into

her lungs; he was back. Worse, he was dragging someone or thing

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behind him, because whatever it was dribbled blood onto the cement

floor.

Helena knew she should watch Constantine's every move if for no

other reason than to clasp her head and protect her hair, b
ut the blood
.

A darkening red trail tracked where he had been. He and whoever

was recently dead were getting closer and she could be next,
but the

blood
.

Her mouth watered. Wasn't that an odd panic reaction? Lips parted

and the drool welled up over her bottom lip, one viscous drip

dribbling down her chin and landing on her shirt. The back of her

hand wiped across her mouth, but the saliva mounted until she had to

swallow or drown in her own juices.

Nostrils flared picking up every nuance of iron she could from the

air. Her tongue swelled up feeling sore and dry despite all her saliva.

Hunger shot from her stomach with a convulsive anger that made her

throat too tight to handle swallowing anything that wasn't liquid and

juicy.

Careless of the pain, her head shook violently. Drugs had to still be

in her system. This wasn't a normal human reaction. Sure his

presence made her brain go crazy processing hatred mingled with lust,

but the
blood
.

"You smell it, don't you?" Constantine pulled the body behind him

by the hair.

Her own scalp cringed at the act, but she gave little credence to

human fear. The neck was ripped open and blood spurted up and

drenched his clothes before being wasted on the cement.
Oh god,

what was wrong with her?
Blood wasted? Shouldn't her hind brain be

causing her to want to flee or fight? Why was she so drawn to the

blood so that little else mattered?

Helena screamed at herself to shut up. She couldn't deal with this