Fic: Red Petals [3/10]
Fic: Red Petals [3/10]
Previous: 1 / 2
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think this show was created just for me, but alas, still not mine. Definitely for the best, in this case.
Rating/warnings: NC-17. Sex pollen and sex slaves, dub-con and non-con (though mostly off screen), plus violence, cursing, lots of nudity, and forced druggings.
Pairings: (In order of apperance, not necessarily importance) James/Camille, Mercedes/Kendall, Kendall/Jo, Kendall/James, Mercedes/Kendall/James, James/Logan.
Notes: Sorry for the delay and eternal thanks to lielabell, who I've now met in person and everything. ♥ Also, this is the chapter where a lot of the warnings start to come into play, so yeah, be warned. (Hey, can I just say, I appreciate canon giving us Camille as a superspy last weekend? Heh.)
Summary: Kendall was supposed to be on a rescue mission, searching for someone on a black market planet. But he's the one who ended up needing to be rescued...
Three.
The first thing Kendall felt was ice-cold liquid splashing him in the face. His head throbbed and his body thrummed, heat pooled low in his stomach. He sputtered, blinking, and the world resolved around him.
Mercedes stood in front of him, empty glass in one hand. Water dripped uncomfortably down his face, into his collar, but he couldn't move to wipe it away -- he was tied to a chair. He strained against the ropes reflexively. His knees and ankles were strapped to the chair legs, his torso was held in place by a few ropes, and his arms were tied together behind the chair's back.
A spike of something like excitement shot through him, but he was awake enough to realize that was just the petal dust, still affecting his body -- but thankfully, his mind was clearing quickly. This wasn't exciting, it was really fucking bad.
Mercedes circled him slowly. "Do you know what we do with Civ inspectors on this planet?"
"I'm not --"
She cuffed the side of his head. "Don't think I'm stupid just because I'm gorgeous. And don't think any of your biomech stuff will work here. No transmissions get through without clearance."
"I don't have any biomech! I'm not whoever you think I am."
She smacked him again, hard enough to jar his head to the side, leaving him with a nasty ache in his neck. Worse, being hit did absolutely nothing to settle his too-interested body down. He swallowed a curse word, ignoring his dick as he tried to figure out how to play this. Now that he could think semi-clearly, it was so obvious that he shouldn't have mentioned Brooke to someone who might be helping hide James that he almost couldn't believe he'd done it, even while drugged. Now he was stuck with the idiotic lie.
Someone knocked on the door. Mercedes stalked away and Kendall took the moment to try to get his bearings. His head throbbed where the guard had pistol-whipped him, and Mercedes smacking him hadn't helped any. As he got in a few deep breaths, he figured that if the drug was now still affecting his body, he couldn't have been out too long -- but then again, it wasn't affecting his mind anymore, and he had to pee. So maybe it had been a couple of hours.
Over at the door, the guard who took his gun said, "She wants to see him herself."
Mercedes made an irritated noise and snapped, "Fine," then stalked out.
After a moment, the guard walked over to Kendall. Her gaze raked down him and he flushed, remembering the feeling of her hands on his body as she'd frisked him. Maybe if she was interested --
No. That was definitely the drug in his system. He heaved a breath.
She reached for one of her weapons and he panicked, but all she did was idly inspect it, checking to make sure it was loaded, then polishing it against her shirt. "You're not an inspector, are you?" she asked.
"No. No, I'm not. Thank god someone believes me."
"No Civ inspector would be stupid enough to walk into Mercedes' den only armed with this." She waved the gun in front of his face, then slid it into her belt and reached for one from her shoulder holster. She began examining that one just as meticulously. This girl obviously loved her guns. "The way I see it, an inspector would either be smart enough not to pack anything at all, and have a non-stupid cover story in place; or he'd come in with the cops and the Corps and whoever, and take the place apart."
Kendall managed to keep his expression steady and not grimace like he wanted to. He'd known there would be drugs at the party. He should have prepared for them, somehow. Maybe if he'd had a better cover in place to begin with, he wouldn't have been tempted to wing it the second he was high --
The guard started talking again: "So you're not an inspector. But you're not a corporate lackey, either. Your gun is too well cared for; you obviously know how to use it. Corps?"
Damn, she was good. He just shook his head and stuck to the lie he'd screwed himself with. "I work for Brooke Diamond. She's scary. You'd learn to use a gun, too."
She laughed. "I already know how, Rook." She glanced at the door, then leaned in and lowered her voice. "You got anyone at home who wants you back?"
"My mom?"
She straightened up, turning away, but hiding a smile, he was pretty sure. Which was good. Charming Mercedes' guards couldn't hurt.
She holstered her gun and turned back towards him, then leaned down far enough into his personal space that his body became very, very interested. She murmured in his ear, "Mercedes pays well, but I don't love the job. Make me a better offer and I'll get you home to your mommy."
Kendall started to answer, but Mercedes swept back into the room, someone else with her. The guard shot him one last glance, eyebrows raised, and retreated to the door.
Mercedes smiled, predatory, and turned to her companion, another blond. Kendall glanced at her, then at Mercedes, and then did a double take, turning back to the new-comer. She laughed. It was obvious that he recognized her, but it didn't exactly matter anymore. He'd spent months tracking Rebecca. He'd come too close too many times for her not to know him.
Sure enough, she said, "I was wondering if you were ever going to catch up to me, Captain."
Meeting her gaze, he summoned as much bravado as he could and answered, "Hey, Rebecca. Kidnapped and tortured anyone recently?"
"Just your friend. I've been having a delightful time with him." She leaned down as she said it, meeting his gaze dead on. His throat went dry. He'd known for months that she and Hawk had James, but to suddenly have it confirmed, to have her standing right there talking about James, about torturing him --
She turned to Mercedes. "Speaking of friends, he'll have a few of them running around. They're a very loyal crew. Find them."
"I don't take orders from you," Mercedes snapped.
Rebecca turned to face her, the movement slow and deliberate. She just waited and Mercedes looked away first.
"Fine, fine, I'll take care of them," Mercedes snapped. "Who the hell is he, anyway?"
"CivCorps Captain Kendall Knight," Rebecca said. "Or rather, former Captain, now. Your own people put a price on your head. None of them are going to come looking for you."
"Where's James?" Kendall answered.
"Oh, don't worry about him. You see, we have plans for James. I need him alive. You, on the other hand..." She straightened up and turned to Mercedes. "He's useless. Get rid of him."
"Fine," Mercedes agreed. "I'll have Jo take care of it." She glanced back at Kendall. "Don't worry, it'll be fast. She's a good shot."
"Fast or slow, I don't care. Just kill him. And don't forget to find his friends, too."
"Sure," Mercedes agreed. Something about her voice was off, though. Kendall waited while she showed Rebecca out, and brought the guard -- Jo -- back in. Then she said, "I need you to fire one of your guns. Something loud."
Jo produced a weapon from her thigh holster. It was large and black and, unmistakably, one of the Taylor custom-made pieces, which had to cost a fortune. Yeah, this girl really loved guns. She leveled it at him, barrel aimed dead between his eyes, but Mercedes rolled her eyes and said, "Don't actually shoot him, god. He's hot, and I don't appreciate Rebecca trying to tell me how to run my own business. Maybe she doesn't have any use for him, but I do."
"Okay," the guard said slowly. "So you want me to do what, exactly?"
"Just shoot the floor or something."
With a shrug, Jo unleashed two shots at the floor directly in front of Kendall. Her arm was so steady that they hit the exact same spot, barely widening the bullet hole.
Kendall stared at the bullet hole, then up at her, and mumbled, "Wow."
She smirked down at him and, yeah, okay, he'd probably have found her sexy even if he hadn't been drugged. Girls with guns had always done it for him.
"Good," Mercedes said, gesturing her away. "Thanks. You can go now... unless you want to watch."
"Watch?" Jo repeated.
Mercedes laughed and dug into her purse. She pulled out a needle, a syringe, and a vial of something red. As she prepared it all, Kendall strained against the ropes that held him in place hard enough that his skin chafed. He didn't know what was in the vial, but he sure as hell didn't want it near him.
He eyed Mercedes warily and asked, "What is that?"
"You paid for a sample of the good stuff. So I'm giving you one," she said, cheerful. "Don't worry. You'll like it."
"Yeah, I'm leaving. I'll be outside if you need me," Jo said.
Mercedes waved, then walked up behind Kendall. She hiked up his sleeve, he screwed his eyes shut, and felt a sharp spike of pain as the needle slid into his arm.
--
Camille felt more, better, higher than she ever had. She peaked and calmed and peaked again and again, and her friend never got tired. He was gorgeous and his stamina was amazing --
It was the drugs. The thought slammed into Camille's mind as she came down, even as he rolled on top of her, on his hands and knees with his head ducked down to lick her neck. She clung to the thought and pushed him away. He rolled onto his back and grinned at her, crooked a finger in invitation. And oh god, she could have just climbed back on top of him --
The drugs.
She shook her head. "No, no, I have to go."
He pouted. "But there's plenty we haven't done yet. And that we could do again if there was anything you really liked... and I know there was."
Yes, there was. Camille flushed, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He winked at her, and he was so fucking gorgeous she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. But she still had a job to do.
"I had a lot of fun," she assured him. "I just wish..."
"What?" he asked. "Because I'll do anything you want. You're so fucking gorgeous, I just want you so much. I need you --"
"All I want is for you to remember," she said. "Think hard, okay? Someone gave you a shot. Some woman. Do you remember anything at all about her?"
He shook his head.
"Are you sure? Think, please," Camille begged, as she stood up and began searching for the underwear she'd had on. When he'd pulled it off, well, she'd been pretty distracted and she wasn't sure at all where it had ended up.
"I think... blond. Yeah, and her voice was... she talked weird. And she was... No, I knew her name. I did."
Blond? Talked weird? Another piece fell into place, and Camille suggested, "Rebecca? Does that sound familiar?"
"Rebecca?" he repeated. "Rebecca. That sounds... yeah, maybe ..."
"But you're not sure," Camille sighed.
"Sorry," he said, "I just... I've had a hard time remembering things, lately. But I swear I'll remember you. You should come see me again."
"Maybe I will," she said, and part of her really wanted to, but she knew she couldn't. He was drugged, and she had only ended up in bed because she'd been drugged, and it couldn't happen again. She wouldn't let it. Whoever he was, he deserved better.
"Maybe? You're not sure? C'mere and I'll convince you."
"Tell you what. You come see me."
"Mercedes doesn't let me out," he said, frowning a little. "But it's okay. She doesn't like me much, but she's not as mean to me as Rebecca was. As -- Rebecca!" He stared at her, eyes going wide. "I remember -- she was -- yeah. Yeah, I remember she gave me the shot. Her name was Rebecca and I knew her, I was trying to get away from her, but some guy... I didn't like him either. He told her to give me the shot and then to give me to Mercedes."
Give him. Like a gift, a belonging. A party favor.
"Do you know long ago that was? How long you've been here?" she asked. If he knew that, she'd at least have an idea of how long Rebecca and Mercedes had been in business together.
The brothel worker just shook his head, looking down. "I'm sorry, I don't even... I don't know my name. Why don't I know my own name?"
She knew she should leave, but he sounded so crushed. She sat next to him and put a hand over his. To her surprise, he didn't immediately try to touch her or proposition her again. She squeezed his hand.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I'm going to find out for you. I'm going to figure everything out."
--
Carlos was turning and turning and turning on his stupid swirling chair. Logan knew it was just nervous energy, because he had the same thing, but it really wasn't helping Logan's focus any as he tried to get work done. "Carlos!"
"Whaaaat?" Carlos gave him a kicked puppy look.
"I'm trying to read, here." Logan gestured angrily to his console. He'd dived back into the ship's database and managed to get it to connect back to CivComm, hopefully through a scrambled enough channel that no one would be able to trace it. Since the Rush was supposed to be an ambassadorial ship, it hadn't been too hard to fake credentials to get into the Repository and find more restricted information on the planet. He was still sifting through it, hoping that at least some of it would be helpful.
"Well, I'm worried."
"I'm working," Logan snapped, not wanting to admit that he was worried, too. It hadn't been close to Kendall's 24 hours yet, but even so, Kendall should have checked in with them. The party should have ended ages ago, so he had no excuse to be out. If he hadn't found any information, then nothing should be holding him up, and if he had found information, he should have contacted them about it.
Then again, Kendall was prone to doing stupid things. If he thought he had a chance to jump on a lead, he might not pause to call for backup. Maybe that would be fine; maybe Kendall had a plan and it would go perfectly and he'd be back with James in tow any minute now.
But somehow, Logan doubted it. Rebecca was too smart and too careful. Nothing had been that easy, not since the moment James disappeared.
Carlos paced a little bit, then declared, "He should have checked in with us. He should be back by now."
Logan looked up again. Trying to convince himself as much as Carlos, he said, "I'm sure he's fine. He's Kendall; he's always fine."
"Yeah," Carlos said. "I know, but I've got a bad feeling. You know how he gets, when he thinks he can take on the galaxy by himself. But he really needs us."
Logan agreed, but shook his head, trying to re-focus on the Repository. "If we freaked out every time Kendall did something rash, we'd never get a calm moment."
Carlos ignored him, still pacing. "And we're already missing James. I just don't know what I'd do if we lose Kendall."
"You'd find him. We'd find him," Logan said. "We'd..."
He trailed off, reading the paragraph on the Red Petals' parties:
More accurately, Red Petal "parties" are orgies, designed to bring in new clientele by offering weaker variants on petal dust either cheap or free. Wealthier and more elite guests are given better drugs, private rooms, and encouraged to party with one another or with brothel workers.
CONFIRMED: at least one Red Petal "employee" is a victim of human trafficking, drugged against his will. No ID was available. Further research required.
Logan frowned. It wasn't just that that sounded really sketchy and unpleasant -- not to mention downright illegal -- it was the confirmation date. The information on parties in general was old; the suspicions about trafficking were old. The confirmation that a brothel worker had been trafficked, though...
"Uh oh," Logan said.
"Uh oh what-oh?" Carlos hurried over to peer over his shoulder.
"An inspector just did a data dump. Reporting on the party Kendall was at."
Carlos's jaw dropped. He collapsed into one of the seats on the bridge and said, "There's an inspector and Kendall's not back. That's really, really not good. He could have gotten an ID from across the room and Kendall wouldn't even know he was being checked. And -- and even if it is a coincidence, if nothing happened, Kendall needs to know there's an inspector on the planet. I don't care if it hasn't been 24 hours. He needs to know that now."
Logan looked up and met Carlos' eyes. For all he wanted to be optimistic and tell Carlos to calm down, he couldn't. The party involved drug dealers and slave traders, there was an inspector poking around, and Kendall was missing. They needed to assume the worst and do something about it.
"You go," Logan said. "I'll stay here and see if I can dig anything else up."
Carlos nodded. "Okay. I'll check where he was partying last night, and be back within a few hours."
"Okay," Logan agreed. "And Carlos?"
"Yeah?"
Something twisted in Logan's gut. For all his attempts at bravado, if anything happened to Kendall or Carlos, he really didn't know what he'd do. Awkwardly, he finished, "Just... be careful."
Carlos nodded. "I always am."
--
Jo was leaning on the wall when Mercedes finally came out. Her hair was a mess and her makeup was smudged, and she was swaggering as she walked. Jo carefully schooled her expression into something a lot more neutral than the disgust she felt. She wasn't exactly surprised by Mercedes' method of dealing with a Corps officer, since well Mercedes was a dealer and a smuggler and that meant she had to be ruthless when it came to dealing with law enforcement. Jo just didn't like it.
Shooting a man was one thing. This just left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Do me a favor, would you?" Mercedes asked as she breezed by. "Get him cleaned up and take him down to one of the back rooms. Make sure there's nothing in it he can use to escape or whatever, just in case."
Jo frowned. That wasn't her job and she didn't want anything to do with anyone in CivCorps, unless he really was able to come up with enough cash to make it worth her while (which she doubted, since any military group that armed its people with Standards rather than superior Taylor weaponry obviously pinched pennies), but hell, most of Mercedes' employees were too high to do anything like this, and from what little she knew of Knight, he would try to escape.
Frowning a little, she said, "Sure."
"Oh, don't sound so insulted." Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Tell you what, he's still plenty high. Feel free to take a turn."
Luckily, she swept away and didn't see the glare Jo shot her. Jo waited for her to disappear down the hall, back to her lounge and her party, then let herself into the room Mercedes had used to interrogate her prisoner.
Kendall Knight stared at her, obviously dazed. He didn't look too good. His face was bruised -- her fault, mostly -- and he was still tied to the chair, arms pinned behind him. The rope around his torso had loosened, though, and his shirt had been pulled open. Scratches and bruises ran across his chest. Probably from Mercedes' fingernails.
His pants and underwear had been yanked down to his knees, but his ankles were still tied. And he was a fucking mess. Dried, crusty come coated his upper thighs, some of it still dripping, though he was unmistakably hard again now -- a side effect of Mercedes' drugs.
"Please," he mumbled.
She looked away from him, almost ill. "Are you okay?"
"What's happening to me?" His voice cracked.
"Ummm, well..." Jo steeled herself and walked over towards him, then crouched down to get to the knots on his wrists. She'd tied them herself, so of course they'd held. His wrists were bruised blue and chapped from struggling against them. She began working the knots out. "Mercedes thinks you're hot, I guess."
"You always open with bad news?"
Jo nearly smiled despite herself, though she was sure it looked like more of a grimace. Even drugged to hell, Knight was charming. Then again, if he was coherent enough to joke, he was coherent enough to try to escape. She decided to leave the ropes on his wrists in place and instead went for the ones around his torso. He could walk with his hands behind his back.
"At least she didn't have me kill you," Jo offered. The rope fell away and she coiled it and slid it over her shoulder, then moved around to untie his ankles. "Can you stand?"
"Yeeeeeah, uh, maybe?"
"Try." She straightened up and prepared to catch him. He wobbled on his feet.
"Umm... my pants? I can't, with my hands tied, but..."
Right. She had to deal with that if she wanted him to be able to walk. There was no way for this not to be awkward, so she tried to be as brush and business-like as possible. She didn't yank them up, just tugged everything more or less into place, and didn't bother with buttoning or zipping. That wasn't necessary for walking.
"Better?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Just -- just kinda sensitive. The fabric is, um. Friction. It's not... not good."
She rolled her eyes. "You can live with it."
"Or you could help me out with it." He grinned at her, smile wide and pupils dilated.
She ignored that. "Mercedes said to get you cleaned up. Let's hit the shower."
"You want to shower with me?"
"No." She pushed him forward and he stumbled. She caught his arm and held it as she marched him down the back hallway and down a set of stairs.
"Then I don't know how you think this is gonna work," he mused. "'Cause showering won't do me a hell of a lot of good if I'm still tied up and fully dressed."
"I'm not untying you."
"Come on, please? " He smiled at her again. "I'm obviously not in any shape to run away."
"You're trying to come up with excuses to get untied. Sounds like you're in shape to me," she said, shoving him into a dingy bathroom with two stalls and a shower. Some of Mercedes' prostitutes lived at the brothel, and this was part of their quarters. It wasn't very nice, since Mercedes saw no reason to spend money on anything her customers didn't see, but it would at least get the job done.
"You're giving me a lot of credit," Knight said.
"You should be flattered." She eyed the shower stall and then Knight. He was actually right that this wasn't going to work if he stayed tied up.
"Who says I'm not? You now, you'd make one hell of a CivCorps officer if you didn't work for a crazy bitch."
"CivCorps doesn't pay nearly as well as the crazy bitch... Fine, here." She shoved him forward so she could get to his wrists and he moaned.
"You know, I really, really like strong women... you don't have to untie me. You can just push me against the wall and --"
"I'm untying you," she interrupted. "But here's how it's going to work. You're going to leave the stall door open and I'm going to stand here with all of my guns so you don't get any ideas."
"Mmm, with you watching me shower I'm going to get lots of ideas," he said, leering.
"Oh, shut up." She finished with his wrists and he let out a breath of relief. He rubbed his wrists for a moment, then stripped off his shirt. Then, looking at her, he bent down to get his shoes and socks off, and slowly pushed his pants and boxers back down and stepped out of them.
"You sure you don't want to soap me up yourself?" he offered, stretching. She tried to ignore it, but the bathroom wasn't all that big and he obviously wanted her to look. She traced his body with her eyes. He was tall and a little gangly, but well-made. CivCorps had pretty rigorous physical standards, after all.
She pointed to a hamper in the corner. "Just toss your stuff in there and get to it, okay?"
"Sure. And feel free to watch me bend over," he said, moving very slowly and deliberately to gather his things.
Jo rolled her eyes a little, wondering how much of this was the drug and how much was just his personality. She watched him step into the shower and admitted to herself that he wasn't bad looking, and he was even a little bit charming. If they'd met under other circumstances...
There was no point in thinking about it. Jo had overheard too much about how the petal serum worked. Knight might be charming enough now, even while drugged, but he'd be nothing but a husk soon enough. The serum Mercedes had developed with her new business partners wasn't just more potent than the dust, it also got stronger the more times it was used. Eventually, the druggie wouldn't be able to think about anything but sex; not even basics, like his own name or where he came from. Like that poor test subject Rebecca had brought in. He was pretty and popular with customers, but completely lost.
She leaned against the wall, a hand on her favorite gun -- a Taylor 607 Special, her father would be so proud -- as she kept an eye on Knight. He seemed pretty coherent, which was good. Maybe the serum wasn't as strong as Mercedes bragged.
Then again, maybe it was. He worked the soap up into a lather and washed his shoulders, his chest... his hand drifted downwards and he shut his eyes. Jo raised her eyebrows, then cleared her throat when he let his hand rest on his dick. He jumped a little and reached for the shampoo, but after his hair was fully lathered, his hand drifted downwards again. He shot Jo a guilty look, but apparently decided that having her watching wasn't enough of a deterrent. With one hand pressed to the wall for balance, he used the other to jerk himself with slow, steady motions.
Jo felt a slight flush rising on her cheeks as she watched, and glanced away for a few seconds. When she looked back, he was looking at her. He caught her eye, his mouth quirked up into a smirk, and then he threw his head back and moaned. Jo shifted and curled a hand around her gun, feeling the smooth metal and trying not to think of something else her hand might curl around.
Probably also thanks to the drugs, it didn't take Knight long to get himself off. He moaned softly, leaning heavily on his arm, then stood there with shoulders heaving. Jo waited, and finally he straightened up and got back to showering, rinsing his hair.
He was blushing when he finished and turned the water off. She tossed him a towel, and after he'd dried off, he wrapped it around his waist. "Modesty?" she asked, eyebrows lofted.
He laughed awkwardly. "I swear, I'm not usually like that. Whatever she did to me, it's... oh god, I just..." He turned away, face reddening.
Jo tried to ignore his discomfort, forcing herself back into business mode. "I should tie your hands again."
"Do you have to?" he pleaded. "I'm buck naked and you've got, like, seven guns. You really think I'm gonna take off?"
For a moment, she actually considered it. He was drugged, but he didn't seem like any of the blissed-out partiers or prostitutes. He was CivCorps -- a captain, no less -- and that meant he was trained. He was charming, and in her experience, that meant he was smart. She'd never been one to fall for dumb guys.
All of which meant that, drugged or no, she'd better treat him like he was a danger. She held up the rope and said, "Better safe than sorry."
He scowled, but brightened up after a moment. He checked to make sure his towel was secure, then held up his arms in front of himself. "Maybe like this, instead of behind my back, at least? Unless you're going to want to lend me a hand. Whatever she shot me with..."
Jo glanced down at his towel. Christ, it was already tented. Mercedes' drugs were potent.
"Fine," Jo agreed. She coiled the rope around his wrists and tied it off tightly. Then waited, and sure enough, he tested it, twisting his wrists. "They won't bruise like that if you stop. I promise the knots will hold."
"Yeah." He let his arms fall in front of him. "Well. Thanks."
"Let's go," she said, and took him by the shoulder to lead him to the utilitarian bedrooms underneath the brothel. It only had a bed with an old, stained spread and a few pillows, and there were no windows. She didn't see anything loose, anything sharp, anything he might use to escape. "Okay. Welcome to your new home."
"Jo? That's your name, right? Jo?"
She nodded.
He hesitated, then, "What's... what's going to happen to me?"
She froze, trying to picture it for a moment. Knight was as attractive as the test subject who'd been dosed with serum, and he'd end up just as dumb and just as desperate. Mercedes would charge clients thousands for a night with him while he lived in this room, in squalor any time he wasn't at a party. He wouldn't care. He wouldn't even notice. He'd do what he was told; he'd do who he was told. Forever.
She met Knight's gaze, but couldn't bring herself to say it. Damn it all, he was charming and... and interesting. He was clever even like this, and he knew how to take care of his weapon. He deserved better than what Mercedes had in store for him.
So she lied: "I have no idea."
Chapter Four
Previous: 1 / 2
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think this show was created just for me, but alas, still not mine. Definitely for the best, in this case.
Rating/warnings: NC-17. Sex pollen and sex slaves, dub-con and non-con (though mostly off screen), plus violence, cursing, lots of nudity, and forced druggings.
Pairings: (In order of apperance, not necessarily importance) James/Camille, Mercedes/Kendall, Kendall/Jo, Kendall/James, Mercedes/Kendall/James, James/Logan.
Notes: Sorry for the delay and eternal thanks to lielabell, who I've now met in person and everything. ♥ Also, this is the chapter where a lot of the warnings start to come into play, so yeah, be warned. (Hey, can I just say, I appreciate canon giving us Camille as a superspy last weekend? Heh.)
Summary: Kendall was supposed to be on a rescue mission, searching for someone on a black market planet. But he's the one who ended up needing to be rescued...
Three.
The first thing Kendall felt was ice-cold liquid splashing him in the face. His head throbbed and his body thrummed, heat pooled low in his stomach. He sputtered, blinking, and the world resolved around him.
Mercedes stood in front of him, empty glass in one hand. Water dripped uncomfortably down his face, into his collar, but he couldn't move to wipe it away -- he was tied to a chair. He strained against the ropes reflexively. His knees and ankles were strapped to the chair legs, his torso was held in place by a few ropes, and his arms were tied together behind the chair's back.
A spike of something like excitement shot through him, but he was awake enough to realize that was just the petal dust, still affecting his body -- but thankfully, his mind was clearing quickly. This wasn't exciting, it was really fucking bad.
Mercedes circled him slowly. "Do you know what we do with Civ inspectors on this planet?"
"I'm not --"
She cuffed the side of his head. "Don't think I'm stupid just because I'm gorgeous. And don't think any of your biomech stuff will work here. No transmissions get through without clearance."
"I don't have any biomech! I'm not whoever you think I am."
She smacked him again, hard enough to jar his head to the side, leaving him with a nasty ache in his neck. Worse, being hit did absolutely nothing to settle his too-interested body down. He swallowed a curse word, ignoring his dick as he tried to figure out how to play this. Now that he could think semi-clearly, it was so obvious that he shouldn't have mentioned Brooke to someone who might be helping hide James that he almost couldn't believe he'd done it, even while drugged. Now he was stuck with the idiotic lie.
Someone knocked on the door. Mercedes stalked away and Kendall took the moment to try to get his bearings. His head throbbed where the guard had pistol-whipped him, and Mercedes smacking him hadn't helped any. As he got in a few deep breaths, he figured that if the drug was now still affecting his body, he couldn't have been out too long -- but then again, it wasn't affecting his mind anymore, and he had to pee. So maybe it had been a couple of hours.
Over at the door, the guard who took his gun said, "She wants to see him herself."
Mercedes made an irritated noise and snapped, "Fine," then stalked out.
After a moment, the guard walked over to Kendall. Her gaze raked down him and he flushed, remembering the feeling of her hands on his body as she'd frisked him. Maybe if she was interested --
No. That was definitely the drug in his system. He heaved a breath.
She reached for one of her weapons and he panicked, but all she did was idly inspect it, checking to make sure it was loaded, then polishing it against her shirt. "You're not an inspector, are you?" she asked.
"No. No, I'm not. Thank god someone believes me."
"No Civ inspector would be stupid enough to walk into Mercedes' den only armed with this." She waved the gun in front of his face, then slid it into her belt and reached for one from her shoulder holster. She began examining that one just as meticulously. This girl obviously loved her guns. "The way I see it, an inspector would either be smart enough not to pack anything at all, and have a non-stupid cover story in place; or he'd come in with the cops and the Corps and whoever, and take the place apart."
Kendall managed to keep his expression steady and not grimace like he wanted to. He'd known there would be drugs at the party. He should have prepared for them, somehow. Maybe if he'd had a better cover in place to begin with, he wouldn't have been tempted to wing it the second he was high --
The guard started talking again: "So you're not an inspector. But you're not a corporate lackey, either. Your gun is too well cared for; you obviously know how to use it. Corps?"
Damn, she was good. He just shook his head and stuck to the lie he'd screwed himself with. "I work for Brooke Diamond. She's scary. You'd learn to use a gun, too."
She laughed. "I already know how, Rook." She glanced at the door, then leaned in and lowered her voice. "You got anyone at home who wants you back?"
"My mom?"
She straightened up, turning away, but hiding a smile, he was pretty sure. Which was good. Charming Mercedes' guards couldn't hurt.
She holstered her gun and turned back towards him, then leaned down far enough into his personal space that his body became very, very interested. She murmured in his ear, "Mercedes pays well, but I don't love the job. Make me a better offer and I'll get you home to your mommy."
Kendall started to answer, but Mercedes swept back into the room, someone else with her. The guard shot him one last glance, eyebrows raised, and retreated to the door.
Mercedes smiled, predatory, and turned to her companion, another blond. Kendall glanced at her, then at Mercedes, and then did a double take, turning back to the new-comer. She laughed. It was obvious that he recognized her, but it didn't exactly matter anymore. He'd spent months tracking Rebecca. He'd come too close too many times for her not to know him.
Sure enough, she said, "I was wondering if you were ever going to catch up to me, Captain."
Meeting her gaze, he summoned as much bravado as he could and answered, "Hey, Rebecca. Kidnapped and tortured anyone recently?"
"Just your friend. I've been having a delightful time with him." She leaned down as she said it, meeting his gaze dead on. His throat went dry. He'd known for months that she and Hawk had James, but to suddenly have it confirmed, to have her standing right there talking about James, about torturing him --
She turned to Mercedes. "Speaking of friends, he'll have a few of them running around. They're a very loyal crew. Find them."
"I don't take orders from you," Mercedes snapped.
Rebecca turned to face her, the movement slow and deliberate. She just waited and Mercedes looked away first.
"Fine, fine, I'll take care of them," Mercedes snapped. "Who the hell is he, anyway?"
"CivCorps Captain Kendall Knight," Rebecca said. "Or rather, former Captain, now. Your own people put a price on your head. None of them are going to come looking for you."
"Where's James?" Kendall answered.
"Oh, don't worry about him. You see, we have plans for James. I need him alive. You, on the other hand..." She straightened up and turned to Mercedes. "He's useless. Get rid of him."
"Fine," Mercedes agreed. "I'll have Jo take care of it." She glanced back at Kendall. "Don't worry, it'll be fast. She's a good shot."
"Fast or slow, I don't care. Just kill him. And don't forget to find his friends, too."
"Sure," Mercedes agreed. Something about her voice was off, though. Kendall waited while she showed Rebecca out, and brought the guard -- Jo -- back in. Then she said, "I need you to fire one of your guns. Something loud."
Jo produced a weapon from her thigh holster. It was large and black and, unmistakably, one of the Taylor custom-made pieces, which had to cost a fortune. Yeah, this girl really loved guns. She leveled it at him, barrel aimed dead between his eyes, but Mercedes rolled her eyes and said, "Don't actually shoot him, god. He's hot, and I don't appreciate Rebecca trying to tell me how to run my own business. Maybe she doesn't have any use for him, but I do."
"Okay," the guard said slowly. "So you want me to do what, exactly?"
"Just shoot the floor or something."
With a shrug, Jo unleashed two shots at the floor directly in front of Kendall. Her arm was so steady that they hit the exact same spot, barely widening the bullet hole.
Kendall stared at the bullet hole, then up at her, and mumbled, "Wow."
She smirked down at him and, yeah, okay, he'd probably have found her sexy even if he hadn't been drugged. Girls with guns had always done it for him.
"Good," Mercedes said, gesturing her away. "Thanks. You can go now... unless you want to watch."
"Watch?" Jo repeated.
Mercedes laughed and dug into her purse. She pulled out a needle, a syringe, and a vial of something red. As she prepared it all, Kendall strained against the ropes that held him in place hard enough that his skin chafed. He didn't know what was in the vial, but he sure as hell didn't want it near him.
He eyed Mercedes warily and asked, "What is that?"
"You paid for a sample of the good stuff. So I'm giving you one," she said, cheerful. "Don't worry. You'll like it."
"Yeah, I'm leaving. I'll be outside if you need me," Jo said.
Mercedes waved, then walked up behind Kendall. She hiked up his sleeve, he screwed his eyes shut, and felt a sharp spike of pain as the needle slid into his arm.
--
Camille felt more, better, higher than she ever had. She peaked and calmed and peaked again and again, and her friend never got tired. He was gorgeous and his stamina was amazing --
It was the drugs. The thought slammed into Camille's mind as she came down, even as he rolled on top of her, on his hands and knees with his head ducked down to lick her neck. She clung to the thought and pushed him away. He rolled onto his back and grinned at her, crooked a finger in invitation. And oh god, she could have just climbed back on top of him --
The drugs.
She shook her head. "No, no, I have to go."
He pouted. "But there's plenty we haven't done yet. And that we could do again if there was anything you really liked... and I know there was."
Yes, there was. Camille flushed, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He winked at her, and he was so fucking gorgeous she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. But she still had a job to do.
"I had a lot of fun," she assured him. "I just wish..."
"What?" he asked. "Because I'll do anything you want. You're so fucking gorgeous, I just want you so much. I need you --"
"All I want is for you to remember," she said. "Think hard, okay? Someone gave you a shot. Some woman. Do you remember anything at all about her?"
He shook his head.
"Are you sure? Think, please," Camille begged, as she stood up and began searching for the underwear she'd had on. When he'd pulled it off, well, she'd been pretty distracted and she wasn't sure at all where it had ended up.
"I think... blond. Yeah, and her voice was... she talked weird. And she was... No, I knew her name. I did."
Blond? Talked weird? Another piece fell into place, and Camille suggested, "Rebecca? Does that sound familiar?"
"Rebecca?" he repeated. "Rebecca. That sounds... yeah, maybe ..."
"But you're not sure," Camille sighed.
"Sorry," he said, "I just... I've had a hard time remembering things, lately. But I swear I'll remember you. You should come see me again."
"Maybe I will," she said, and part of her really wanted to, but she knew she couldn't. He was drugged, and she had only ended up in bed because she'd been drugged, and it couldn't happen again. She wouldn't let it. Whoever he was, he deserved better.
"Maybe? You're not sure? C'mere and I'll convince you."
"Tell you what. You come see me."
"Mercedes doesn't let me out," he said, frowning a little. "But it's okay. She doesn't like me much, but she's not as mean to me as Rebecca was. As -- Rebecca!" He stared at her, eyes going wide. "I remember -- she was -- yeah. Yeah, I remember she gave me the shot. Her name was Rebecca and I knew her, I was trying to get away from her, but some guy... I didn't like him either. He told her to give me the shot and then to give me to Mercedes."
Give him. Like a gift, a belonging. A party favor.
"Do you know long ago that was? How long you've been here?" she asked. If he knew that, she'd at least have an idea of how long Rebecca and Mercedes had been in business together.
The brothel worker just shook his head, looking down. "I'm sorry, I don't even... I don't know my name. Why don't I know my own name?"
She knew she should leave, but he sounded so crushed. She sat next to him and put a hand over his. To her surprise, he didn't immediately try to touch her or proposition her again. She squeezed his hand.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I'm going to find out for you. I'm going to figure everything out."
--
Carlos was turning and turning and turning on his stupid swirling chair. Logan knew it was just nervous energy, because he had the same thing, but it really wasn't helping Logan's focus any as he tried to get work done. "Carlos!"
"Whaaaat?" Carlos gave him a kicked puppy look.
"I'm trying to read, here." Logan gestured angrily to his console. He'd dived back into the ship's database and managed to get it to connect back to CivComm, hopefully through a scrambled enough channel that no one would be able to trace it. Since the Rush was supposed to be an ambassadorial ship, it hadn't been too hard to fake credentials to get into the Repository and find more restricted information on the planet. He was still sifting through it, hoping that at least some of it would be helpful.
"Well, I'm worried."
"I'm working," Logan snapped, not wanting to admit that he was worried, too. It hadn't been close to Kendall's 24 hours yet, but even so, Kendall should have checked in with them. The party should have ended ages ago, so he had no excuse to be out. If he hadn't found any information, then nothing should be holding him up, and if he had found information, he should have contacted them about it.
Then again, Kendall was prone to doing stupid things. If he thought he had a chance to jump on a lead, he might not pause to call for backup. Maybe that would be fine; maybe Kendall had a plan and it would go perfectly and he'd be back with James in tow any minute now.
But somehow, Logan doubted it. Rebecca was too smart and too careful. Nothing had been that easy, not since the moment James disappeared.
Carlos paced a little bit, then declared, "He should have checked in with us. He should be back by now."
Logan looked up again. Trying to convince himself as much as Carlos, he said, "I'm sure he's fine. He's Kendall; he's always fine."
"Yeah," Carlos said. "I know, but I've got a bad feeling. You know how he gets, when he thinks he can take on the galaxy by himself. But he really needs us."
Logan agreed, but shook his head, trying to re-focus on the Repository. "If we freaked out every time Kendall did something rash, we'd never get a calm moment."
Carlos ignored him, still pacing. "And we're already missing James. I just don't know what I'd do if we lose Kendall."
"You'd find him. We'd find him," Logan said. "We'd..."
He trailed off, reading the paragraph on the Red Petals' parties:
More accurately, Red Petal "parties" are orgies, designed to bring in new clientele by offering weaker variants on petal dust either cheap or free. Wealthier and more elite guests are given better drugs, private rooms, and encouraged to party with one another or with brothel workers.
CONFIRMED: at least one Red Petal "employee" is a victim of human trafficking, drugged against his will. No ID was available. Further research required.
Logan frowned. It wasn't just that that sounded really sketchy and unpleasant -- not to mention downright illegal -- it was the confirmation date. The information on parties in general was old; the suspicions about trafficking were old. The confirmation that a brothel worker had been trafficked, though...
"Uh oh," Logan said.
"Uh oh what-oh?" Carlos hurried over to peer over his shoulder.
"An inspector just did a data dump. Reporting on the party Kendall was at."
Carlos's jaw dropped. He collapsed into one of the seats on the bridge and said, "There's an inspector and Kendall's not back. That's really, really not good. He could have gotten an ID from across the room and Kendall wouldn't even know he was being checked. And -- and even if it is a coincidence, if nothing happened, Kendall needs to know there's an inspector on the planet. I don't care if it hasn't been 24 hours. He needs to know that now."
Logan looked up and met Carlos' eyes. For all he wanted to be optimistic and tell Carlos to calm down, he couldn't. The party involved drug dealers and slave traders, there was an inspector poking around, and Kendall was missing. They needed to assume the worst and do something about it.
"You go," Logan said. "I'll stay here and see if I can dig anything else up."
Carlos nodded. "Okay. I'll check where he was partying last night, and be back within a few hours."
"Okay," Logan agreed. "And Carlos?"
"Yeah?"
Something twisted in Logan's gut. For all his attempts at bravado, if anything happened to Kendall or Carlos, he really didn't know what he'd do. Awkwardly, he finished, "Just... be careful."
Carlos nodded. "I always am."
--
Jo was leaning on the wall when Mercedes finally came out. Her hair was a mess and her makeup was smudged, and she was swaggering as she walked. Jo carefully schooled her expression into something a lot more neutral than the disgust she felt. She wasn't exactly surprised by Mercedes' method of dealing with a Corps officer, since well Mercedes was a dealer and a smuggler and that meant she had to be ruthless when it came to dealing with law enforcement. Jo just didn't like it.
Shooting a man was one thing. This just left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Do me a favor, would you?" Mercedes asked as she breezed by. "Get him cleaned up and take him down to one of the back rooms. Make sure there's nothing in it he can use to escape or whatever, just in case."
Jo frowned. That wasn't her job and she didn't want anything to do with anyone in CivCorps, unless he really was able to come up with enough cash to make it worth her while (which she doubted, since any military group that armed its people with Standards rather than superior Taylor weaponry obviously pinched pennies), but hell, most of Mercedes' employees were too high to do anything like this, and from what little she knew of Knight, he would try to escape.
Frowning a little, she said, "Sure."
"Oh, don't sound so insulted." Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Tell you what, he's still plenty high. Feel free to take a turn."
Luckily, she swept away and didn't see the glare Jo shot her. Jo waited for her to disappear down the hall, back to her lounge and her party, then let herself into the room Mercedes had used to interrogate her prisoner.
Kendall Knight stared at her, obviously dazed. He didn't look too good. His face was bruised -- her fault, mostly -- and he was still tied to the chair, arms pinned behind him. The rope around his torso had loosened, though, and his shirt had been pulled open. Scratches and bruises ran across his chest. Probably from Mercedes' fingernails.
His pants and underwear had been yanked down to his knees, but his ankles were still tied. And he was a fucking mess. Dried, crusty come coated his upper thighs, some of it still dripping, though he was unmistakably hard again now -- a side effect of Mercedes' drugs.
"Please," he mumbled.
She looked away from him, almost ill. "Are you okay?"
"What's happening to me?" His voice cracked.
"Ummm, well..." Jo steeled herself and walked over towards him, then crouched down to get to the knots on his wrists. She'd tied them herself, so of course they'd held. His wrists were bruised blue and chapped from struggling against them. She began working the knots out. "Mercedes thinks you're hot, I guess."
"You always open with bad news?"
Jo nearly smiled despite herself, though she was sure it looked like more of a grimace. Even drugged to hell, Knight was charming. Then again, if he was coherent enough to joke, he was coherent enough to try to escape. She decided to leave the ropes on his wrists in place and instead went for the ones around his torso. He could walk with his hands behind his back.
"At least she didn't have me kill you," Jo offered. The rope fell away and she coiled it and slid it over her shoulder, then moved around to untie his ankles. "Can you stand?"
"Yeeeeeah, uh, maybe?"
"Try." She straightened up and prepared to catch him. He wobbled on his feet.
"Umm... my pants? I can't, with my hands tied, but..."
Right. She had to deal with that if she wanted him to be able to walk. There was no way for this not to be awkward, so she tried to be as brush and business-like as possible. She didn't yank them up, just tugged everything more or less into place, and didn't bother with buttoning or zipping. That wasn't necessary for walking.
"Better?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Just -- just kinda sensitive. The fabric is, um. Friction. It's not... not good."
She rolled her eyes. "You can live with it."
"Or you could help me out with it." He grinned at her, smile wide and pupils dilated.
She ignored that. "Mercedes said to get you cleaned up. Let's hit the shower."
"You want to shower with me?"
"No." She pushed him forward and he stumbled. She caught his arm and held it as she marched him down the back hallway and down a set of stairs.
"Then I don't know how you think this is gonna work," he mused. "'Cause showering won't do me a hell of a lot of good if I'm still tied up and fully dressed."
"I'm not untying you."
"Come on, please? " He smiled at her again. "I'm obviously not in any shape to run away."
"You're trying to come up with excuses to get untied. Sounds like you're in shape to me," she said, shoving him into a dingy bathroom with two stalls and a shower. Some of Mercedes' prostitutes lived at the brothel, and this was part of their quarters. It wasn't very nice, since Mercedes saw no reason to spend money on anything her customers didn't see, but it would at least get the job done.
"You're giving me a lot of credit," Knight said.
"You should be flattered." She eyed the shower stall and then Knight. He was actually right that this wasn't going to work if he stayed tied up.
"Who says I'm not? You now, you'd make one hell of a CivCorps officer if you didn't work for a crazy bitch."
"CivCorps doesn't pay nearly as well as the crazy bitch... Fine, here." She shoved him forward so she could get to his wrists and he moaned.
"You know, I really, really like strong women... you don't have to untie me. You can just push me against the wall and --"
"I'm untying you," she interrupted. "But here's how it's going to work. You're going to leave the stall door open and I'm going to stand here with all of my guns so you don't get any ideas."
"Mmm, with you watching me shower I'm going to get lots of ideas," he said, leering.
"Oh, shut up." She finished with his wrists and he let out a breath of relief. He rubbed his wrists for a moment, then stripped off his shirt. Then, looking at her, he bent down to get his shoes and socks off, and slowly pushed his pants and boxers back down and stepped out of them.
"You sure you don't want to soap me up yourself?" he offered, stretching. She tried to ignore it, but the bathroom wasn't all that big and he obviously wanted her to look. She traced his body with her eyes. He was tall and a little gangly, but well-made. CivCorps had pretty rigorous physical standards, after all.
She pointed to a hamper in the corner. "Just toss your stuff in there and get to it, okay?"
"Sure. And feel free to watch me bend over," he said, moving very slowly and deliberately to gather his things.
Jo rolled her eyes a little, wondering how much of this was the drug and how much was just his personality. She watched him step into the shower and admitted to herself that he wasn't bad looking, and he was even a little bit charming. If they'd met under other circumstances...
There was no point in thinking about it. Jo had overheard too much about how the petal serum worked. Knight might be charming enough now, even while drugged, but he'd be nothing but a husk soon enough. The serum Mercedes had developed with her new business partners wasn't just more potent than the dust, it also got stronger the more times it was used. Eventually, the druggie wouldn't be able to think about anything but sex; not even basics, like his own name or where he came from. Like that poor test subject Rebecca had brought in. He was pretty and popular with customers, but completely lost.
She leaned against the wall, a hand on her favorite gun -- a Taylor 607 Special, her father would be so proud -- as she kept an eye on Knight. He seemed pretty coherent, which was good. Maybe the serum wasn't as strong as Mercedes bragged.
Then again, maybe it was. He worked the soap up into a lather and washed his shoulders, his chest... his hand drifted downwards and he shut his eyes. Jo raised her eyebrows, then cleared her throat when he let his hand rest on his dick. He jumped a little and reached for the shampoo, but after his hair was fully lathered, his hand drifted downwards again. He shot Jo a guilty look, but apparently decided that having her watching wasn't enough of a deterrent. With one hand pressed to the wall for balance, he used the other to jerk himself with slow, steady motions.
Jo felt a slight flush rising on her cheeks as she watched, and glanced away for a few seconds. When she looked back, he was looking at her. He caught her eye, his mouth quirked up into a smirk, and then he threw his head back and moaned. Jo shifted and curled a hand around her gun, feeling the smooth metal and trying not to think of something else her hand might curl around.
Probably also thanks to the drugs, it didn't take Knight long to get himself off. He moaned softly, leaning heavily on his arm, then stood there with shoulders heaving. Jo waited, and finally he straightened up and got back to showering, rinsing his hair.
He was blushing when he finished and turned the water off. She tossed him a towel, and after he'd dried off, he wrapped it around his waist. "Modesty?" she asked, eyebrows lofted.
He laughed awkwardly. "I swear, I'm not usually like that. Whatever she did to me, it's... oh god, I just..." He turned away, face reddening.
Jo tried to ignore his discomfort, forcing herself back into business mode. "I should tie your hands again."
"Do you have to?" he pleaded. "I'm buck naked and you've got, like, seven guns. You really think I'm gonna take off?"
For a moment, she actually considered it. He was drugged, but he didn't seem like any of the blissed-out partiers or prostitutes. He was CivCorps -- a captain, no less -- and that meant he was trained. He was charming, and in her experience, that meant he was smart. She'd never been one to fall for dumb guys.
All of which meant that, drugged or no, she'd better treat him like he was a danger. She held up the rope and said, "Better safe than sorry."
He scowled, but brightened up after a moment. He checked to make sure his towel was secure, then held up his arms in front of himself. "Maybe like this, instead of behind my back, at least? Unless you're going to want to lend me a hand. Whatever she shot me with..."
Jo glanced down at his towel. Christ, it was already tented. Mercedes' drugs were potent.
"Fine," Jo agreed. She coiled the rope around his wrists and tied it off tightly. Then waited, and sure enough, he tested it, twisting his wrists. "They won't bruise like that if you stop. I promise the knots will hold."
"Yeah." He let his arms fall in front of him. "Well. Thanks."
"Let's go," she said, and took him by the shoulder to lead him to the utilitarian bedrooms underneath the brothel. It only had a bed with an old, stained spread and a few pillows, and there were no windows. She didn't see anything loose, anything sharp, anything he might use to escape. "Okay. Welcome to your new home."
"Jo? That's your name, right? Jo?"
She nodded.
He hesitated, then, "What's... what's going to happen to me?"
She froze, trying to picture it for a moment. Knight was as attractive as the test subject who'd been dosed with serum, and he'd end up just as dumb and just as desperate. Mercedes would charge clients thousands for a night with him while he lived in this room, in squalor any time he wasn't at a party. He wouldn't care. He wouldn't even notice. He'd do what he was told; he'd do who he was told. Forever.
She met Knight's gaze, but couldn't bring herself to say it. Damn it all, he was charming and... and interesting. He was clever even like this, and he knew how to take care of his weapon. He deserved better than what Mercedes had in store for him.
So she lied: "I have no idea."
Chapter Four