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  pain there whereas the other end was the complete opposite. It felt

  like her hair was falling out and someone had scalped her.

  Toes worked, a bit cramped like she'd fallen asleep in her shoes but

  there was definite movement. Same with her ankles, they moved

  unwillingly but there was enough friction to make her wonder if her

  stockings were still on. Weird, she never slept with her clothes on.

  "Constantine, she's waking up."

  Was that a voice outside or inside her head? It was so hard to tell.

  She didn't know a Constantine so maybe she was still asleep and

  dreaming what, that she was in a black vortex with a voice drifting

  around her?

  "I'll take it from here. Leave us."

  Different voice, but there was something familiar about it, or

  something she hoped would become familiar. Parts of her body

  moved on their own with no prompting from that voice alone, and

  20

  there was no doubt where her thighs met now. The voice had added a

  layer of warmth to her body which had been previously missing and

  made her muscles tingle into wakefulness.

  Each twitch of her muscles got her brain to start processing back

  data and fill her in to the present moment. There had been an eviction

  then a car with a really hot driver. She'd told the driver to take her to

  the hotel, but after that the data broke down. Oh, wait she'd drunk

  champagne then it all went black as if someone had wiped her hard

  drive of pertinent information so she couldn't go through with her

  plans.

  But that didn't explain why her head was under so much pain and

  her neck ached, or why she was beginning to feel trapped in the

  blackness that previously had been so pleasant.

  "Come on, Helena, open your eyes. You might as well get it over

  with."

  That voice saying her name drove pin pricks up and down her body.

  Part of her wanted to flay him alive and the other wanted to take him

  for all the pleasure she could squeeze out of his cock. Okay clearly

  there was some information that was being kept from her conscious

  mind. Only one way to solve the myriad of desires rushing to take

  over her body, and that was to open her eyes and then determine

  whether she was getting laid or going up on murder charges.

  Helena labored until her eyes flicked open. Reality was a disaster,

  too many discordant inputs overloading her system; she felt dizzy and

  nauseous.

  "I'd sit up if you're going to throw up. I'd hate to see you ruin your

  white blouse, but then I would get to clean you up, all the way down

  to your skin. So go for it if you want."

  Helena forced her eyes to work together to focus on the source of

  the voice. What the ... chauffeur's face but the clothes were all

  different? Instead of the black suit and bow tie his legs were leather

  clad and his shoulders and pecs kept the sleeveless red shirt from

  slipping as he moved. The fewest buttons necessary to keep the shirt

  on were cinched, leaving his hair-dusted chest to show flecks of gold

  in the candlelight.

  21

  "Glad you could join us, no fun if you sleep through it."

  His words got under her skin, making the hair on the back of her

  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.

  22

  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 h
er 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

  23

  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

  24

  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.

  25

  CHAPTER THREE

  "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

  26

  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.

  * * * *

  Helena's legs wanted to sag onto the cushions but she refused to put

  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

  27

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

  floor.

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

  ot
her 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

  all at once, and surely she should be focusing on the source of the

  blood. Wasn't that more important? Shouldn't the blood be staunched

  and saved. Someone could surely use it.

  Helena gulped. She was going insane, breaking apart, yelling at

  herself and not even knowing what she was going to say until she did.

  28

  Her body started to shake under the strain. She needed silence so she

  could stop thinking, no to think. She required silence to think, but her

  body was so loud with different needs and wants.

  Constantine deposited the body at her feet, the skin-stripped neck

  still gurgling from a fresh kill.

  "Beautiful, isn't it, all the still warm blood?" Constantine leaned