Chapter 23

“Well, that was fun! You might have told me that tall, dark and forehead was going to hit on me!” I hissed.

“I- I didn’t know,” she said, hesitantly. “He- he likes to play mind games. I think he was just testing you,” she added.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and just continued to stare at her.

“Or…he could want to fuck you. You are hot, you know. I’m sure he meant it as a compliment, honey.”

“Yeah? Well it creeped me out! And, I didn’t like him touching you either. Next time he does it I’m gonna gnaw his hands off,” I said as I sat down in the chair. “Do I even want to know what to expect down there?”

I watched as she climbed out of bed, walked over to me, and climbed into my lap. “Probably not,” she whispered as she caressed the side of my face. “And the truth is that I probably can’t begin to imagine what Angel has planned.”

“This sucks!”

“Want me to blow you before we go downstairs? It could be fun. You can re-assert your manhood and I can reflect back on the irony of it all through dinner,” she offered.

“No, thanks,” I replied, his earlier derogatory comments kind of killed that one for me for the time being. “Tell me I was never that much of a pig, please?”

Liz suddenly began to grope at my chest, “Are you growing breasts?”

“No!” I said, unable to stop chuckling as her hands slid down and began to tickle my ribs.

I grabbed her wrists, trying to still the movements of her hands and she winced.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

“It’s okay,” she assured me. “Whatever happens, it’s okay.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

She just smiled at me, sweetly, and then kissed me softly on the lips.

“Are you ready?” I asked as I stood up, lifting her into my arms.

“Ready, Doctor James,” she said as she wound her arms around my neck and laid her head in the crook of my shoulder.

“Ah! There you are! Come in! Ana, Drusilla has really outdone herself this time for us. Don’t you agree? Have you ever seen such a delicious appetizer? Set her down here, doctor, so that she can see. What can I get you to drink?”

I wasn’t going to have anything to drink. I had wanted to keep a clear head. I had already changed my mind. Some experiences are best not remembered clearly, “Scotch, neat. Ana can have a soft drink, no caffeine, or some juice.”

I sat Liz down, so that she reclined on the sofa, a pillow behind her head. She resembled a lifeless doll. It was disturbing, but not as disturbing as the image before me.

The coffee table was adorned with delectable morsels, all artfully arranged, meant to whet the appetite and tantalize the palate. Angel was obviously a man who was used to eating well. Sitting in the center of it all was Drusilla.

She was nude, except for the long thin leather straps that were tied around her ankles. She sat as still as a statue, her knees drawn up to her chest, her feet crossed at the ankles. Her hands were positioned flat on the table behind her on either side of her hips. Her head was tilted back. It accentuated the length of her neck and forced her breasts to jut out, their rosy tips hard and peaked. The tip of her long dark hair barely reached the top of the table. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was open, and in it she held a ripe red plum.

Drusilla’s face and body had been dusted with what appeared to be fine white talc. In the dim lighting of the room it gave her already pale, translucent skin and even more ethereal quality. The only light was from the glow of the fire and the dozens of lit candles that had been positioned about the room. Never had I seen such a striking tableau.

I watched, transfixed, as a small rivulet of juice spilled from her mouth and snaked its way down the length of her chin and neck, along her delicate collarbone, over the full mound of her breast, to cling tantalizingly to the hardened tip of her nipple.

Angel nudged my arm. I looked over at him. He was smiling broadly and holding out a heavy crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid. “Single malt.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I watched as Angel leaned down and latched onto Drusilla’s nipple. He suckled at her breast noisily and roughly, lacing his fingers through her hair. After a few moments he released her tit with a pop only to circle his tongue around her areola now thoroughly covered with his spit. He then lapped a slow trail up the path that the plum juice had previously taken, following the course all the way back to Drusilla’s mouth. He bit into the succulent looking fruit releasing a flood of juices.

It was as if I were driving down Interstate 5 past a huge pile up. I couldn’t help but look. I glanced over towards Liz. Her eyes were averted and her cheeks were flush. Color was even mottling her chest. I wondered whether it was from embarrassment or arousal? Maybe it was both, that was true for me.

I walked over to the bar, set down my scotch, and subtly tugged at the crotch of my jeans. I slowly exhaled as I reached for a bottle of water and busied myself pouring a glass for Liz.

“Mmmm,” moaned Angel, obviously savoring the taste. “Have yourself a little nibble, doctor.”

Huh? Okay, I admit it. I was at a bit of a loss. What’s appropriate etiquette in this situation? The husband of my lover, who was the mother of my child, was offering me the opportunity to-

I turned to face him.

“Come here, I want to get your professional opinion on something.”

Great. Just great.

I walked back over towards them, pausing in front of Liz.

“Ana, I have some water for you. Would you like some water?”

She wouldn’t look at me. She was facing completely away from me now, turned towards the back of the sofa, her eyes closed tight.

“Doc!” called Angel waving me towards him. I placed the glass on the coffee table and walked over to him.

“I’m concerned this is too much,” I told him, speaking softly and tilting my head towards Liz. “I think Ana should return to her room.”

“Nonsense!” Angel grabbed hold of the leather straps that were secured around Drusilla’s ankles, wrapped them around his hands, and yanked her legs down and wide open, exposing her clean shaven, glistening sex.

“Have you ever seen such a pussy? You did say you preferred women, yes?” he asked.

“Excuse me,” interrupted Estephan, “Anika is here, she has something for the doctor.”

“I’ll see what she wants. Take the reins, pal!” he said to me before handing me the ends of the leather straps and slapping me on the shoulder. “Enjoy! You’ll never taste anything so sweet.”

Angel walked around behind the sofa and followed Estephan out the door. I stood there, positioned between Drusilla’s legs, the straps fisted in my hands. I closed my eyes for the briefest of moments and I flashed on a conversation I had had earlier with Anika, upstairs, in the bathroom.

“Sometimes,” said Anika stepping closer to me and lowering her voice, “a person does something because they see no other way, they have no other choice. When you love someone-”

“There are always choices,” I had told her.

When I reopened my eyes I swallowed down the lump in my throat and did my best focus on the woman before me. Her legs were trembling, pulled taught. There were bruises on the inside of her thighs and on her hips. The leather around her ankles was cutting into her skin, leaving a raw red mark underneath. And leaking from the corners of her eyes were tears.

I gently lowered her legs back to the table. I swept the plum out of her mouth with my index finger. I massaged the tired muscles of her jaw. Then I reached up and wiped away her tears with the pads of my thumbs.

“Shh.”

Her eyes fluttered open. She reached out, grasping my wrist in her hand and turning it so that I could see the traces of white power on my fingers. “It’s good cocaine, very good. Angel only has the best here at home. You don’t want to waste it.”

“You don’t need it. Ana can’t have it. I don’t use it,” I replied as I knelt down and began to release her ankles from their bonds. “You deserve better than this.”

Drusilla cupped the sides of my face in her hands and lifted my head until my eyes met hers, “No, I don’t. But thank you for saying it.”

She looked over at Liz, who now lay with her knees pulled up closer to her chest.

“I so envy her,” she said wistfully.

Liz looked completely withdrawn. My own anxiety was mounting. The palms of my hands were starting to sweat. Not good. Not good at all. This is why you don’t mix business with pleasure. I was worried about her. I tried to assure myself that she was playing this as planned, that she was alright. But I just wasn’t sure. Her distress was just way too real.

“She picked the wisest and bravest knight in all the land – and made him hers forever with a kiss,” Drusilla whispered. She turned my face back towards her, tilting her head to the side and studying me intently before brushing her lips across my cheek. “It’s too late for me.”

“Damn! Show’s over?” asked Angel from the doorway. “How did he do, Dru?”

She laughed. “A lady never tells.”

“I wanted to watch!” whined Angel.

“Grrr! Bad dog! I’ll make it up to you. Shall I dress for dinner?” she asked him.

“Nah,” he replied shaking his head, offering her his arm. “May I escort you to the dining room?”

I sat down in the chair, picked up my scotch, and drained the glass. I looked over my shoulder and eyed the bottle wistfully. Getting drunk wouldn’t be smart. I needed to stay on my toes.

“Doctor?” Angel called out from the door. “Bring Ana along, will you? We’re having one of her favorites. Had a lamb slaughtered fresh this morning. Perhaps that will perk her up. Also,” he lifted a sheaf of paper high into the air and rattled it, “it seems we have something wonderful to celebrate. The test results were positive.”

“We’re going to have a baby? How exciting! You’re going to be a Daddy!” squealed Drusilla as she was lead down the hall towards the dining room.

I knelt down by the sofa and placed my hand on the middle of her back. “You alright?”

Liz rolled over and nodded. Only, she didn’t look alright.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say before reaching for the class of water. I noticed that her hand was shaking.

“Nothing happened,” I assured her.

Liz nodded. She didn’t look like she believed me. “Will, I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine and done things I’d prefer you didn’t. The longer we stay here… We’ve got to get out of here.”

“We will, soon. Right now we’ve got to get through dinner. If it gets too rough in there-”

“Plan B.”

“Right.”

Chapter 24

I took a deep breath and walked into the dining room. Liz was once again in my arms. The familiar feel and smell of her settled my nerves. I know this is going to sound pitifully corny, but somehow everything seemed better with her in my arms. It set my world straight, made it, as it should be. The last thing that I wanted to do was let her go. Apparently she felt the same way. I felt her stiffen as we passed through the entry, her arms tightening around my neck. Since her eyes were focused on my chest and not the interior of the room, I concluded that she was reacting to my own response. And I made efforts to correct it, relaxing my shoulders, and slowing my breathing.

I had never seen this room before and doubted that I would ever again see one like it. The floor was made of stone, huge pieces of dark stone, possibly slate. The ceiling was black; at least I think it was black-- the truth was that it seemed to go on forever. The only lighting in the room came from what appeared to be a collection of oil pots. There must have been sixty or seventy of them. Each one independently sitting on its own dedicated narrow self. At first glance it appeared almost as it they were randomly floating at differing heights along the long walls.

The walls. They were painted a vibrant blood red. Several coats of paint had been applied, layer upon layer of thick pigment. It had been allowed to purposefully run down the walls, haphazardly. It was as if the walls themselves were bleeding.

Angel was sitting at the head of the table, across from the entry. Drusilla was nowhere to be seen. He was seated, his head leaning back. He was biting slightly at his bottom lip. There were three other place settings. I cleared my throat.

Angel opened his eyes.

“Put my wife there,” he said, nodding towards the place to his right. “I want to look at her as I… Oh, Christ!”

His head snapped back, neck hyper-extended as his eyes rolled up. I thought for one blissful moment that he was having a seizure.

“Fuck! Dru! Yeah! That’s it, baby. Suck my cock. Suck it! Yeah, use that beautiful mouth of yours…”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a seizure.

I vowed right then and there to never again complain that dinner at my sister Molly’s was odd or dull. Her tofu turkey and solstice celebrations were nothing compared to this freak show.

I walked hesitantly towards the seat he had indicated and stood there waiting, patiently, until Angel came down from his climax. Drusilla emerged from underneath the table. She winked at me, her eyes were sparkling and she wiped conspicuously at her nose. No doubt she had just recently indulged in some of Angel’s highest quality coke. A bright smile of satisfaction graced her lips as she looked at him. He was obviously spent. I watched, as Drusilla bent over his mouth and kissed him deeply. After several long seconds she pulled back slowly, picked up a white linen napkin from the tabletop, and daintily wiped at the corners of her mouth.

“Could you pull out the chair?” I asked Drusilla. I tried to sound casual and at the same time ignore her nudity and the smell of sex that now hung conspicuously in the air.

She walked over to us, reaching out to Liz tentatively and gently caressing the side of her face. “So much has happened,” she whispered quietly. She placed a gentle kiss on Liz’s cheek. “No one will ever know, ever understand. I’m so tired, Ana. Aren’t you tired? Would you like me to make you feel better? I can make you see the stars, you know. Would you like that?”

I watched as Drusilla tenderly traced the outline of Liz’s mouth, almost entranced.

“Drusilla,” I said moving to place Liz in the chair, “I believe Ana would like some water.”

Drusilla picked up a water glass from the table and tilted it to Liz’s lips. “Drink up. That’s a good girl.”

Liz dutifully swallowed. Then she smiled gratefully at Drusilla. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Drusilla replied obviously relieved that she’d evoked a response.

She pulled the chair out that was meant for Liz and patted the seat. “Set her down, doctor.”

I deposited Liz in her chair. As I stood back up I noticed for the first time the painting that hung on the wall by the entry to the dining room. I was certain that my hesitation was noticeable and inwardly cursed at myself. I made a quick decision to see it through. After pushing Liz’s chair in I walked over to examine the painting closely.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” asked Dru as she settled herself in Angel’s lap and wound her arms around his neck. “I can almost hear its screams from here.”

“How on earth did you acquire them?” I asked him.

“Them?”

“This one and the other, Madonna. They aren’t reproductions, are they?”

Angel smiled broadly. “Ah, now it falls into place. You’re good. Gotta give it to you. You’re very good.”

I didn’t respond. I waited him out.

“You see?” he began reaching for the file folder that had been sitting on top of his dinner plate. “I knew you weren’t who you said you were.”

Fuck. I walked over towards him, keeping my stride confident and direct. I turned the chair around and sat astride it. “Think you’ve figured it out?” I asked giving him my best bad-ass smirk.

“Do you have any idea how many men there are in the US with the name William James or some variation there of? Or, for that matter, how many licensed physicians by that name? I can tell you,” he said as he began to fling photos all over the table. “You want to know what the really curious thing is? Not one of them looks like you.”

There were probably a hundred or more blown-up drivers license photos. I picked one up and held it close to my face, “You don’t see the resemblance.”

Drusilla leaned over to inspect the photograph closely. “You look much older there.”

“Botox,” I said matter-of-factly. “It really does wonders.”

Angel ripped the photograph from my hand and held it out in front of the woman who was still sitting, perched on his lap. “Drusilla, this man is seventy if he’s a day. Also he’s African-American.”

He tilted his head towards me, “This guy’s not a doctor. He’s here for the Munch’s. You’ll never leave here alive.”

Drusilla gasped. “Is it true?”

I laughed, partially from relief. “No.” I extended my hand, “I’m Stewart Thornton. I’m not here because of the paintings, although I’d love to hear the story. I’m sure it’s a good one.”

Angle stared at my hand, making no move to grasp it. The sound of glass shattering on the stone floor broke through the awkward silence.

Everyone’s attention turned to Liz who had been sitting across from me.

I stood up. I could see her crouched on the floor. I watched as she lifted a jagged piece of crystal, holding it up so that the light glinted off of it. I could see that her fingertips were stained with blood, and then I remembered that her feet were bare too.

“Ana,” I began to make my way around the table. “Don’t move. You shouldn’t be on your feet and you have no shoes.”

“You can drop the doctor act,” said Angel holding out his hand towards Ana. “Come, Ana.”

“I am a doctor.”

Angel reached out with one hand, grasping Liz’s wrist. She let the piece of glass fall. I heard it as it hit the floor. I took a step closer to her.

“There’s glass all over the floor,” I pointed out. On cue I stepped on a shard, crunching it under my shoe.

It was as if for a moment I didn’t exist. I watched the three of them in sick fascination. Angel’s tongue darted out and swiped across his lower lip. His breathing sped up as he lifted her hand closer to his mouth. Drusilla shifted her position so that she sat astride him, she placed her hands on Angel’s chest and began to grind against him.

Angel reached behind Drusilla, roughly grasping her long hair and pulling on it. Her head snapped back, her eyes forced to stare blindly at the ceiling. I could swear that I heard a growl rumble deep in his chest as she fumbled with his pants, finally opening them and freeing his cock.

He spread Liz’s blood across his lips, his eyes locked onto hers intently as the head of his weeping cock teased Drusilla’s waiting core. I was only vaguely aware of my own emotions at the time, working hard to dissociate from them. Angel’s cock was exposed and there were knives on the table.

I was started from my brief fantasy by the feel of someone cupping my now burgeoning erection. I jumped back, unable to mask the shock on my face.

Drusilla laughed. She was now fully impaled on Angel, one hand on his chest, the other reaching out blindly for me. “Don’t you want to play my sweet?”

Elizabeth was standing, her body pressed up against Angel’s side. His right arm was wrapped possessively around her waist as he sucked on her fingers, sliding them in and out of his mouth in time to the thrusts of his hips. His eyes were open and his gaze locked on mine. I expected to see raging lust. But that wasn’t it, not at all. Angel was in complete control.

He let Liz’s fingers slip from his mouth then he smiled at me. Arrogant bastard.

“Do you find this shocking?” he asked me as he picked up a knife from the table and sliced open a shallow one-inch gash across the top of Drusilla’s breast.

“I find very little shocking,” I told him, forcing all emotion out of my voice.

I stepped up behind Elizabeth, placing one hand on her shoulder and wrapping the other loosely around her waist. This was a dangerous game. My heart was pounding in my chest. I pulled Liz back against me.

“You’re weak,” I murmured in her ear, audibly enough that Angel or Drusilla could hear. I was unable to tell just how lost in the moment she was.

My stomach churned as I felt Angel’s arm slide down over her ass, momentarily separating my hips from her. He reached down and began to slowly gather up the end of her gown.

Just as the hem reached the tops of her thighs she swooned. Her knees buckled beneath her. I lifted her in my arms and took two quick steps back.

“This isn’t good for her, and it’s not good for the baby,” I said as I cradled her in my arms. Stewart Thornton, graduated from Dartmouth, practiced in Boston. Go ahead and check me out, you’ll get all the dirty details.”

Angel smiled triumphantly as he swept the dishes from the table with his now free arm and stood, depositing Drusilla on top. “Oh, I’ll check you out,” he said as he reached for one of the long white tapers and pulled it out of the candelabra. He held it up over her torso while he continued to methodically pump in and out of her.

“You may go. Estephan is waiting outside to escort you back. Sleep sweet. Pay no attention to the screams,” he said as he leaned down and latched onto the cut he had made on Drusilla’s breast.

Chapter 25

As soon as the door closed and the lock turned Elizabeth jumped out of my arms and ran for the bathroom. By the time I got there she was already retching into the commode. The sound made my own stomach churn.

“Oh, baby.” I walked over and pulled back her hair, holding it in my left hand while, with the right, I reached for a washcloth and turned on the water in the adjacent sink.

She was finished quickly. She had only had water after all. I closed the lid to the commode and flushed. Then I crouched down next to her and tried to hand her the wrung-out washcloth. She reached out for it. I watched her hand pause in mid air and then fly to cover her face. She began to sob. Heart wrenching sobs that I felt to the core of my very being. What the hell was I supposed to say? Nothing seemed adequate, felt adequate. I certainly didn’t feel adequate. I had failed to protect her.

My chest hurt. It felt as if there was a tight band about it. My throat was contracting, spasming. I felt the muscles in my shoulders and neck constrict and the ones in my face started to scrunch up, to twist. Perhaps I made a noise of some kind. I’m not sure. She looked up at me, her tear-stained face full of anguish. And then she got all blurry.

I felt her arms wrap around me. I nestled into that spot between her neck and shoulder that I loved so much and tried to breathe in her scent. I figured if I were going to die, it would be a good last memory. Then I remembered that I couldn’t die, that she was counting on me, that Van was counting on me.

“Shh,” she said, softly stroking the back of my head while rocking to and fro. “It’s okay. Cry if you need to. I’m here.”

Cry? I pulled back abruptly and wiped at my eyes.

“I’m not crying!” I said indignantly. “I haven’t cried since I was nine.”

I watched as she swallowed, brushed her own tears away with the backs of her hands and then reached out to grasp my face. “Can you please not be a dope about this? Can we please just hold and comfort each other?”

I nodded.

Next thing I knew I was enveloped in her embrace. My arms wrapped themselves around her, holding her against me offering her solace while seeking refuge. We sat there, together, on the cold tile floor in the harsh light of the bathroom and wept.

I wept because of tonight, because once again she’dcompromised herself. I wept because I hadn’t been here for her, not when she found out she was pregnant, not when she gave birth, not when she had to live through the loss of having our child taken away. I wept because of all that I imagined and knew she had endured at the hands of the monster downstairs. I wept because I’d made the mistake of letting her walk out of my life that night, over a year ago. I wept because I felt beneath her. She was so strong, so beautiful.

After several minutes I pulled back slightly so that I could look at her.

“God, I must look a hideous!” she said wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” I told her. “My visions so blurry I can’t see a damned thing. And my nose is stopped up. And I’m getting a headache. Christ! No wonder I haven’t cried in thirty years. It’s awful!”

“I- I don’t think I can survive losing you, Will!”

“You’re not going to lose me. You hear? We’re going to get out of this!”

“We are? Angel’s not going to find out you’re a big fat liar and have you killed?”

“God, I hope not. I think I’ve got it covered with the Stewart Thornton identity. It should all check out, work in our favor even. We’re getting out of here, Liz. Together.”

She reached out and began to slap at my shoulders and chest. Shit! She even hit me upside the head, which didn’t help my headache. I stilled her hands.

“Then why are you crying!” she shouted as if I were trying to deliberately pull one over on her.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I untangled myself from her, stood up, walked over to sink and splashed cold water on my face. I picked up the hand towel off of the counter and wiped my face dry. “I don’t know. Male menopause? Mid-life crisis?”

She jumped to her feet and stood behind me. Our eyes connected in the mirror. She wasn’t buying it.

I turned to face her. I swallowed hard and took the plunge. “I- I think that I felt…”

“Go on,” she encouraged.

I steadied my nerves. “I think that I felt just an inkling of what you’ve been through. The pain, the humiliation, the fear.” I looked down. “I’ll never really know, never understand. I know that. But, what I saw tonight? Christ, Liz!”

I turned to look at her. She appeared so vulnerable, so hesitant. She was hanging on my every word. Yet with a simple look she could bring me to my knees. She was a powerful, amazing, and resilient woman.

“You are, without a doubt, the strongest person I know,” I told her.

Liz opened her mouth to respond, but instead a yawn escaped.

“You’re tired,” I observed as I placed a kiss on her forehead and caressed her cheek.

“And hungry.”

“I’ll see if I can get us something to eat,” I told her before moving towards the door. “Why don’t you take a bath?”

“Join me?”

“Not a good idea,” I replied from the doorway. “Might be a bit hard to explain.”

I listened to the water running into the bath for a moment and gathered my thoughts. Then I released a breath, went to the door and knocked. Estephan opened it quickly.

“What are the chances of us getting something to eat?”

“I’ll have to check with-”

The sound of a piercing scream interrupted his reply. His eyes closed for a second, and then reconnected with mine.

“I got the feeling Angel’s a bit busy,” I told him.

“Estephan, take this,” called Maria from the top of the stairs. “I’m going back down to fetch some tea.”

“I’m not sure I think-”

“Don’t think,” she interrupted. “She needs to eat.”

I watched Estephan lean down and speak to her. “He may not be who he says he is.”

“I couldn’t care less,” she said as she placed the tray of sandwiches and fruit in his hands. She looked over Estephan’s shoulder, her eyes connecting with mine. “I’ve put a mild sedative in the tea. It’s safe for the baby. It’ll help her sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her as another scream pierced the air.

She nodded and turned to leave.

“Maria?” I called out. “I don’t want the tea for myself. I need to stay awake, watch over her.”

She turned back towards me, tears streaming down her weathered face. “You’re a good man, doctor. Will you see to her when he is finished?”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” I promised.

“So will I,” she said before disappearing down the stairs.

Chapter 26

The night sky was as black as India ink, its canvas dotted with stars. The moon was partially obscured by the thin clouds that drifted across it. The air was warm and the breeze brought with it the scent of Verbana that I had noticed on my first night here. It was quiet now, eerily so. The screams and sobs had died down almost an hour ago. I had half-expected Maria to come for me so that I could tend to Dru, but she hadn’t. Perhaps she wasn’t allowed? I glanced back through the window. Liz was sleeping peacefully.

While she soaked in the bath I distracted us both by regaling her with stories about the mission that had necessitated the creation of Stewart Thornton. It had taken three months of preparation and six months of being under cover. I was confident that the trail was fresh enough that Angel would find all of the information easily and quickly.

We ate the sandwiches Maria had made, out on the balcony. Although Liz didn’t seem to notice, I needed to get away from the screams. After two cups of tea Elizabeth began to drift off. I tucked her in bed and returned to the balcony, resisting the urge to slip into bed alongside of her. I needed to think. And I wanted a cigarette in the worst way.

I leaned against the rail and peered out into the darkness. I hadn’t made as much progress as I had hoped. I needed, somehow, to get Angel alone and I needed to do it soon.

“You’re still awake,” he said softly.

I jumped and spun around. I hadn’t heard him approach. If I didn’t know better I’d swear he materialized out of nowhere. He was standing right behind me wearing a long black velvet robe. It was tied loosely at his waist and he was undoubtedly nude underneath. His hair was wet from a recent shower. He had 2 glasses in his hands. He offered me one.

“It was a bit difficult to sleep, what with the screaming and the ah…screaming.”

Angel chuckled.

I took the glass and gave it a sniff.

“It’s not poison.”

“Didn’t think it was,” I assured him.

“It’s brandy.”

I took a sip and moved to sit down on the sofa. “You wouldn’t use poison. I’m sure you’d prefer something much more painful and bloody.”

“Got that right,” he agreed as he sat down next to me. “Not your thing, doctor?”

I gave him a sideways glance. “The rough sex? No. Definitely not my thing.”

“Yet you found it arousing,” he said, his voice dropping a notch as he draped his arm casually across the back of the sofa.

“At this unfortunate stage in my life I find watching a woman doing the dishes arousing. Yet doing dishes myself does absolutely nothing for me.”

“How long have they been gone?”

“Did your homework,” I said, taking another sip of the brandy. “Whenever did you find the time?”

He shrugged. “Drusilla passed out about an hour ago. It gets kind of boring then. I like a bit more participation.”

“What? It’s no fun if they don’t cry?”

“Trying to analyze me?”

I looked down into my glass and quietly said, “I just want a new start.”

“Victoria Busalacchi thinks your dead.”

My head snapped up at that. “You spoke with Vicki?”

“Yeah. Vito and I had some business dealings. I hadn’t called since his death. I called to give her my condolences. It didn’t take much, just a few questions about how she’d been since we last saw one another. She was quite smitten with you. I think your death broke her heart.” He tilted his head and studied me for a moment. “Tell me the story.”

I leaned my head back and gazed up at the stars and sighed. “Why? You clearly know the entire story.”

“I’m bored and we have a couple hours till dawn.”

“You could sleep. Maria has this fabulous tea.”

“I’ll sleep come sunrise.” He turned to glance back at Liz.

“She drank some,” I told him. “Maria assured me it was safe for the baby.”

“She feels safe with you. I’ve never seen her look so peaceful, not even in sleep.” He paused for a moment his brow furrowed, “Not even in a drug-induced coma, actually. Maybe I should…I don’t know.”

“Stop all of the bloodplay, torture, and fucking of other women in front of her?”

Angel looked at me, his face showing no emotion. “I was thinking more along the lines of getting her a cat.”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed.

He joined in for a minute then sobering asked, “You don’t think she’d like a cat?”

I stood up and walked to the rail.

“You read about the accident?”

“You were arrested and charged with driving under the influence, your wife and daughter killed,” he said. “But you were released, it never went to trial. I didn’t see why.”

I looked out into the night and sighed. “Officially I got off on a technicality, problems with the chain of evidence.”

“Unofficially?”

I stared at him for a long moment. I allowed a series of conflicting emotions to cross my face before responding. “The FBI offered me a deal. My life was over. I didn’t care about much of anything, but I knew I didn’t want to stay in prison. Sharing a cell for two days with a guy who went by the name of Horse convinced me that I wasn’t cut out for prison. I took the deal.”

“Which was?”

“Rehab, where I was supposed to meet Vicki. Apparently they had been using a female agent to try to get close to her but it wasn’t working out. They weren’t getting the information they wanted. They used to meet in the coffee shop across from my office. I would have breakfast there every morning. Apparently I had caught her eye. When my life went to shit those goons were there to step right in and take advantage.”

“Goons? I thought they were the good guys.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, allowing a tinge of sarcasm into my voice. “I had made a horrible mistake. I wasn’t an addict. I had lived a clean life up until then, not even a fucking parking ticket. I was barely over the limit. I wish to God I had had more to drink that night, maybe I’d remember it less clearly. The roads were wet. The driver of the other car was an eight-two year old woman with night blindness. She was coming from the opposite direction and drifted into my lane. I tried to avoid her and she corrected. We hit head on. I was in her lane, of course. She died. In the space of a few seconds I lost the woman I loved, my child, my practice, and my life. Did they care about any of that? No. They just cared about their fucking objective.”

“I hear they can be kind of single minded and stubborn that way,” said Angel as he pulled a cigar out of the pocket of his robe and offered me one.

“No thanks,” I told him then watched him cut off the tip and light up.

He inhaled, held the smoke for a few seconds then leaned his head back and released it.

“I lost my fist wife in a car accident. She was seventeen and I was nineteen,” he glanced back at Liz. “Ana reminds me of her a bit. She had blond hair, green eyes, and the voice of an angel. We were in the car with my father. There was an ambush, a single fucking sniper hiding behind a tree. He shot my father and the driver through the windshield of the car. We ran off the road and into the tree that had been shielding him. My wife was thrown from the car on impact. I just remember the sound of the bullets shattering the windshield and then being covered in blood.”

“You’re wife’s?”

“No. The sniper’s. You know, it is really possible to tear someone apart with your bare hands. You’ve just got to have the right motivation.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“My father didn’t die. Not right away. I was expected to step in, take over. I was driven by the need for revenge at first. It was after that, after they were all killed that it was hard, continuing to run the day-to-day operations. But you do what you have to do.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“So what did you do, doctor?”

“Gained her trust. Got her to talk. Gave them what they wanted. They arrested Busalacchi. They staged my death and then set me up in the witness protection program as a librarian in Montana.”

Angels face developed a pained almost pinched expression.

“I can see by the look on your face you’ve been to Montana,” I chuckled.

“No,” he replied shaking his head. “I was just imagining what it would be like to have to fuck Vicki. There’s just so much of her. Where do you start?” He shuddered visibly.

I walked back over to the sofa, took the cigar from him and inhaled deeply. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve managed to repress it. It was horrible, really.”

“Kind of ironic for a former shrink, don’t you think? Isn’t repression supposed to be bad for you?”

“Shut up. Like you’re the poster child for good emotional health?”

He took his cigar back and smiled around it as he popped it back in his mouth. “Nah. I’m happy being twisted. It works for me.”

“Well, good on you,” I said as I slapped him on the leg.

Angel covered my hand with his then took the cigar out of his mouth and rolled it between his fingers. Looking me directly in the eye he smiled, an almost shy lopsided smile. “Horse, huh?”

I glanced down at his hand, which now covered mine and looked up at him. It was a struggle not to just pull my hand away, but this was important. I couldn’t afford to screw it up.

“I was dying in Montana. Who am I kidding, inside I still feel dead. I came across Barto’s add on the Internet. I just wanted a clean start, a fresh start, the opportunity to practice medicine and…to grieve…maybe someday rebuild my life. He was willing to overlook my circumstances. I don’t want any trouble.”

Angel began to stroke the top of my hand with his thumb. “So you just bailed on the FBI? Walked away from your safe job?”

“Yes,” I replied, looking steadily at him. Gone was the self-assured sadist. Perhaps he was playing with me again, perhaps not. He seemed almost vulnerable, hesitant.

“Not afraid of the Busalacchi’s finding out you’re still alive?”

I shrugged. “You gonna tell them?”

He smiled. “Little ol’ me?”

I looked pointedly down at his erection, now tenting his robe. “Not too little,” I said, tilting my head thoughtfully and biting my lower lip.

I reached out, took his chin in my hand, and tilted his head back a bit. “You’ve got a bite that broke through your skin. Have you cleaned it properly?”

“You care?”

“Habit.”

“You could kiss it and make it better,” Angel suggested leaning into my caress.

“I never kiss on the first date,” I told him, standing up and stretching.

“Then I guess blowing me is out of the question?” he asked reaching underneath his robe.

“Completely.”

“I could make you,” he said his eye contact unwavering.

“You could try,” I told him crouching down in front of him and untying his robe. I reached for his hands. “But I wouldn’t let you. Besides, that’s not how you really want it, is it?”

“No,” he admitted quietly.

I placed one of his hands around the base of his cock and spit in his other then lifted it, swiping it across his weeping head.

“I’m going to check on Drusilla,” I whispered as he began to tug and pull on himself. “Then I’m going to turn in. Don’t wake Ana.”

“You’re going to leave me like this?” he asked. “You’re not even going to watch?”

I gave him my cockiest smirk, shoved my hands deep into my front pockets and said, “It’s not good to get everything you want. Patience is a virtue.”

“Fuck patience,” replied Angel as he leaned his head back and doubled his efforts.

I walked swiftly through Liz’s room. My heart was pounding and I could feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat. I’m not even sure what I had said to Estephan when he answered the door.

But it must have been the right thing because here I was in Drusilla’s room, sitting on the cool tile floor, my back resting against the door.

I heard the rustling of her sheets and then a laugh. Her voice was rough from overuse and exhaustion. With great effort she pulled herself up, ‘“Will you walk into my parlor?’ said the spider to the fly?”