American library books » Horror » Mostly Dark by Miranda Kate (best ereader for pc TXT) 📕

Read book online «Mostly Dark by Miranda Kate (best ereader for pc TXT) 📕».   Author   -   Miranda Kate



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for them to have snatched her from under Saeid’s nose. Not many would risk it.

Iona knew she should be scared. She had heard tales of girls being used for all sorts of tortuous things to satisfy the blood lust of the elite, but she couldn’t help feel a little excited.

After being sold into Saied’s service at the age of twelve, she was tired of satisfying his fat sweaty needs. She’d been lucky that he had waited until she was fourteen before taking her, giving her a chance to get to know him and understand what was expected of her. But three years on she was struggling to keep up the pretence, especially since he seemed to have lost the desire to wash as often, instead spending more time gorging himself and increasing his already bulky frame.

Iona could feel the inside of the car warm up, and the blackness inside her hood fade a little. The sun was rising and she hoped that meant they would reach their destination soon. The man opposite had started talking to the driver again, but his dialect was unknown to her and she struggled to make sense of his words, only understanding that they weren’t to waste time, and something about a ceremony.

She felt the jeep slow and swing round to a stop. She heard voices as they came round to the back and helped her out. But no one took off the hood.

She felt sand push between her toes as she walked; a hand on her arm to guide her. She could see the detail of the weave in the hood now she was out in sunlight. Then it went dark. She heard the movement of material as though in a breeze and felt thick carpet under foot, indicating they had entered a large tent.

There were noises and movement all around her, and voices all saying different things, many that didn’t make sense to her. But then one stood out, the sound of it causing her stomach to lift in a rush of adrenaline; a voice she had only dreamt of hearing again. The hairs on her body prickled in response to the low, silken tone as it spoke three words, “She is here.”

There was movement in front of her and her hood was removed revealing two bright blue eyes gazing into hers. They captivated her again, just as they had done the night he had come to the party.

“Tamir, you came for me.”

“I couldn’t leave you there under that fat pig!” Tamir spat the last word, his hand coming up to Iona’s face and cupping it.

“But he will come after you. I am not worth his wrath.”

“I am not scared of him. He can not touch me. He knows that.”

“But Tamir, he was to take me as his bride at the next full moon.”

“Then he will be too late, as I am going to take you as mine right now.”

Tamir clapped his hands and people rushed around them. Someone freed Iona’s hands while several women dressed her in the finest cloth, grooming and cleansing her as they went. Iona could only watch in amazement while Tamir was also dressed in fine white silk robes, highlighting his dark sleek features and striking eyes. Then he took her hand and stepped towards the Bedouin priest that had appeared at the far end of the tent. Never did she imagine feeling such joy on her wedding day.


Traceless

 

Lydia ran her hands through her hair and clenched the roots. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked out of the penthouse windows at the sleeping city.

She’d done it again and she had no way of getting out of it now. She mentally chided herself, feeling the frustration, knowing she had to bury it; it was too late now.

She looked over her shoulder at his sleeping body, his perfect skin, the line of his back, beautiful in the nightlight. His profile was perfect too: his lip line, his strong jaw. She wanted to savour this moment forever. Her stomach churned at the thought of what she had to do now.

She stood up and went to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and staring at her reflection in the mirror. She studied her eyes for an answer, some solution that would mean she could have both, but she knew there was none. The question was: how was she going to do this? She took a deep breath. The only way she knew how: without thinking.

Lydia returned to the bedroom and picked up her clothes, careful not to wake him. She went into the hallway to dress and took her keys out of her bag. She gently worked the key off the key-ring and laid it on the entrance hall table, while her mind ran through all the belongings she had here. There weren’t many. None she couldn’t live without.

She slipped her coat on, resisting the urge to take a peek at him one last time.

As soon as the door was shut behind her she ran down the corridor to the elevator. She considered the stairs, not really wanting the bellhop to see her, but when it arrived no one was in it. The universe was working with her tonight.

When she reached the foyer there was only the night porter and he was expecting her. She glanced at him as she walked past, and he gave her a meaningful look as he picked up the phone.

By the time she stepped out of the rotating doors she wanted to throw up. She covered her mouth to hide the retching sound.

A cab was waiting, but she didn’t want to get in. She didn’t want to sit. She couldn’t. She needed to keep moving for as long as she could. She walked at high speed away from the building, not really thinking about a direction.

Going back to her apartment was out of the question. They’d find her and put her through it again. She couldn’t keep doing this. She couldn’t keep loving them, watch them love her back and then set them up. She didn’t want to do it anymore. She wanted out of the loop, but no one got out – or so they told her.

A thought sparked in her mind and she ran with it. At the next ATM she took out as much cash as it would let her, then she got on the subway – a taxi could be traced. Once at Grand Central station she scanned the destination boards and found what she was looking for. Even at this time of night she didn’t have long to wait, and by the time the train crossed the border into Canada she was sound asleep.

Coming off the train she rummaged in the concealed pocket of her bag and pulled out her Canadian Citizenship card. She kept it on her at all times, the ‘just in case’ she knew would come one day. But they didn’t – they couldn’t; it was the one thing she had managed to keep from them.

From there she took a bus to the storage unit she’d set up years ago, when she had been someone else; when she had been free to make her own choices, before she had become indispensable to them. She changed her clothes and her hair, grabbing her real passport and some bundles of cash she’d stashed there. Then she headed for the airport.

Only once in the air did she breathe again and let her mind wander back to the life she’d been leading. It was no easy task being an assassins’ mistress, but at least it had taught her one crucial thing: how to be traceless.


The Deal

 

Josie nodded, smiled and picked up another tray of champagne to offer the guests. She slid through the suits and gave them her glazed-eye smile, just repeating the same thing over and over in her head: ‘Not much longer, you can do it.’

When she finished it was late. The client offered to call her a cab, but she politely declined. She told them it was just a short walk and she would be fine.

She loved the city at this time of night; it glistened in the darkness. The streetlights reflected the recent summer storm, the air moist and hugging her close. Many wouldn’t feel safe, but she did. She’d found her place here, living among the millions of other anonymous people. It was only the work that sucked.

She hated having to do anything, but money was a necessity, and she was lucky to have found regular work. She reminded herself of that as she passed those huddled in doorways.

But she also thought about the looks on some of those suits faces as they had looked at her – or more correctly, at her body. She shuddered as she walked. It was all they really wanted: to touch her. And on occasion she let them.

Josie didn’t like to think about it too much, but after a night like tonight she knew she would get a call. She could say no, but then she thought about the wad of cash that would be handed to her at the end. It was too tempting. It wouldn’t be long now before she would have enough to retire.

Jack had got her into it, telling her she could do more than just play hostess at business functions. It was always him who called with a request, having vetted the clients first. And she would do it too – for him, and he knew why. The thought made her smile as she turned her face up to greet the light drizzle that had started.

She was right; the next day there was a message on her phone. Just a time and a place, she didn’t need to know more. When she turned up there were three of them waiting.

The suite was luxurious, and they allowed her to experience it, saying they wanted to treat her just right. They were respectful and gentle, even bathing her too. She was able to try out all the rooms, looking at them from all angles. They’d also left out the money on the ornate coffee table, which gave her something to focus on when she needed to. When they were done she left feeling more liberated than normal and this time caught a cab home, thumbing the bundle of cash in her pocket as she went.

Now it was Jack’s turn.

Josie found another message on her phone when she arrived home, telling her to block out the weekend, and she did so with a big smile.

He was waiting outside her apartment on Friday with the top down on his brand new red Mustang convertible – something he’d treated himself to as his business was doing well. She climbed in, looking forward to the weekend as he handed her the rings he kept in the safety deposit box.

It was just a couple of hours drive away, but it was like leaving one world and entering another. Whenever he took her home she was treated like one of the family, and for the weekend she was: the daughter-in-law, the sister-in-law, his wife. Having spent her childhood alone moving from one sleazy foster home to the next, never really belonging anywhere, this was the closest she’d ever been, and she lapped it up, embracing the fantasy.

And Jack played his part too as the dutiful husband – in every way. Sometimes she wondered how much longer she could do this, and sometimes she caught a glimpse in his eye on the way home that said the same. But for the time being it worked for

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