Underworld Queen Read online

  “Me, as well.”

  Jonas knew about family and what desperate people would do to retain power. He had lost himself in the Underworld, thinking he could escape it all. If Peter hadn’t been eliminated, who knew what he would have done? Would he have been able to establish a family dynasty that could never be overthrown? How far along in this process had he gotten?

  “I just want you to be careful, until I can be by your side again. I think there’s someone out there worse than Peter, Audray. And I think he’s coming here. Just watch your back.”

  If he had known about all of this, would he have involved her? Probably no fucking way I would have been able to control myself. Were assassins being sent to eliminate him so they could have a clear shot at Audray? He was beginning to feel they both were being sought after.

  After all, Audray had already helped to bring down the former Director. That would have made her a target without the added burden of being the one woman in the whole universe Jonas wanted to keep from harm’s way.

  Chapter 7

  Audray had to stay at a motel a hundred miles away to find something decent enough that didn’t make her skin itch. So it was after ten when she pulled into the parking lot of the dilapidated metal building that was her old dance studio. There was one car parked near the front door.

  On hot days, and there had been many of those, her instructor, former skating sensation Michael Murphy, would roll up the metal corrugated door and turn the music up to play over the slogging water cooler that managed to sound like it was working. As she approached the glass door with the tinkle bell over the top, she heard music coming from inside. Some light jazz.

  She looked through the glass, all of a sudden shy about invading this man’s space—probably the only man who truly cared about her way back then when she was 16. She used to go to bed at night and fondle her own breasts, pretending Mr. Murphy was doing it. Every correction he made to her form was an intimate act to Audray, and it left her skin burning in strange places, not just where his fingers had been.

  Audray had been tall for her age. She smiled as she remembered Mr. Murphy was always getting on her about leading her male partners around.

  If he only knew who I am today.

  Michael Murphy walked across the padded blue floor in his bare feet, shirtless, wearing a towel over his shoulders. His grey warm-up pants were filled with stains and holes. He rolled his neck and arms, stretched his calf and thigh muscles to complete his warm up exercises.

  The muscles in his chest were still well defined, and Audray knew he would look fit and handsome until he got sick and could no longer dance. She found all the things she had wanted to say to him over the past ten years well up inside her. She pushed open the door and the little bell warned him.

  She could see he recognized her immediately, but waited, his hands pulling down on both edges of the white towel as it draped over his neck. His breathing was just beginning to go back to normal, but Audray could see a small catch in his chest a couple of times as he watched her approach him.

  She tried to walk towards him as if she were a ten-year-old. It was impossible to do. Her female equipment and years of training got in the way.

  “Hi, Mr. Murphy. Do you remember me?”

  “Audray. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t wonder what became of you.”

  She spread her arms to the side and did a full turn in front of him. She had on a red nylon slicker, black stretch pants and white mohair turtleneck. She hadn’t put on her thigh-high red boots because Jonas wasn’t around to help her remove them, but her red spiked heel ankle boots felt just as constricting.

  “Still wearing red and black, I see.” He grinned. “I’d say you did okay after all. I was hoping…”

  “I’m fine. You heard what happened?”

  Murphy nodded his head and looked at his toes. “Yeah, and your mother took it pretty hard too. We thought perhaps he came back and killed you, but then the police found a truck driver who…”

  “He was my Guardian angel that day.”

  “I’m glad he was.” He stepped closer to her, the space between them reduced to only two feet. “I wish you had waited for me after the contest. I looked for you. I wish you had trusted me enough to let me help you. I would have, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s been the biggest regret of my life. I should have been there for you.”

  “You aren’t my father.” Audray didn’t like excuses.

  “But I should have protected you.”

  Audray broke the space and walked toward the center of the floor, then remembered her red heels and slipped them off. She looked at the rusted walls and beams of the metal building, the broken window repaired with duct tape, the metal chairs surrounding the floor she used to sit on impatiently awaiting her turn.

  This was my world at one time. This was where I came to escape.

  “Of all the things my mother didn’t do, at least she got me dance lessons,” she said at last.

  “Actually, she stopped paying after the second month. We taught you all those years because it was the right thing to do. Couldn’t see you spending your time hanging around the trailer park or begging for coke money at the truck stop. You can thank my wife for that.”

  Always been able to find people to save me, heal me. Is this a natural gift?

  “So, are you dancing?”

  This amused her. “In a manner of speaking.” She turned slowly and cocked her head. Should I tell him?

  “Every time we go to the movies I look for you. I was so sure I would see your picture up on a big screen some day.” As he approached her, he frowned. “Your eyes—are those contacts?”

  Audray forgot about the change in her eye color due to the turning. Her emerald green eyes were now deep black.

  “It’s just something I prefer now. I’m not who I was back then. I’ve changed, in many ways.”

  “Haven’t we all?”

  No, some people don’t change. Like my mother. Like Burt.

  “Thank you, Mr. Murphy, for all the kindness you shown me over the years. I think my dancing gave me the courage to leave this place.”

  “Well, you survived. And now look at you.”

  It took me years to recover. Ten years of my life. It would have been more if it hadn’t been for my acquaintance with the dark angel who turned me, Joshua.

  Michael Murphy walked over to her and placed his hands tenderly on her shoulders, causing Audray to start. It was the first time they had touched since that afternoon before the competition, when she stole from him a dangerous kiss. But as Audray looked into his grey eyes, she saw the pain there, not the sensuality she expected from his touch.

  All of a sudden the pathetic, dirty town became too much for her. Overcome, Audray fell into Murphy’s arms, sobbing. He held her shaking body carefully, rubbing her hair and saying soothing things to the top of her head buried deep in his chest.

  “Audray, we all worried, but hoped for the best. You were—are such a strong woman. I knew somehow you’d survive. I just knew it.”

  If he only knew what things I’m battling now. Her whole life she’d wanted to get even with Burt, prayed for this day. And now there were things brewing which were much worse, things perhaps outside of her control.

  But that wouldn’t stop her from fulfilling the promise she’d made to herself as her body healed, as she emotionally survived, every time she looked in the mirror, every time she was admired, every time she did something worthy of praise.

  She hoped Jonas would understand. She had to pay Burt back for all the pain he’d caused her family.

  She’d do it for Claire too. She was her sister before she was her enemy. She wasn’t going to ask for permission. She’d ask for forgiveness later. Much later.

  Chapter 8

  Carl awoke to the feel of warm flesh on his chest and down his thigh. Molly’s perfume had permeated the bedroom, coating his dark heavy oak furniture with her femininity. Her sme
ll would be all over the brown quilt his grandmother had made him. His bathroom would no longer be the place where he readied himself for the day, but the place where she had him ram into her rear over the sink counter, as he watched her lips form the O of her moan, matching the color of her blushing cheeks. Seeing her face in his mirror, he knew he would recall that moment every time he stared into it to shave.

  For the rest of my life.

  He had never brought a woman to this home, let alone a grad student. He closed his eyes again, unwilling to wake her. Feeling her skin on his skin, he dreamed of what a future encounter could be.

  He felt twenty years old again. He imagined he had rescued her from the clutches of an evil prince, so grateful were her affections. All evening he starred as the hero of her movie, the conquering victor taking the spoils. She would bring him to the point of exhaustion, and just as he was falling off to sleep, she would do something, like suck on his dick or bite his nipple, and the romp was on. He was Don Juan, Casanova and the Highwayman all in one, with a cock that would not be denied and utterly refused to quit. He never knew it was in him.

  This had been the greatest night of his life.

  His fingertips laced down her creamy backside as she melted into him again. Her bent knee nuzzled his groin. He had to be at work early, so glanced over at the clock beside the bed.

  Six-thirty.

  His first class was at eight, but it was only a five-minute walk from his house. She felt willing, and he had just enough time. He let his fingers move down the crease in her rear cheeks, and tickled her furry opening until he felt her slick fold. He held his breath and inserted a finger there. She moaned and lifted her head, spearing his chest with the point of her perfectly dimpled chin.

  “Professor, I love your lesson plans.” Her eyes were half-lidded. She licked her lips and slowly brought her hands to his temples. Her fingers sifted the few early gray hairs there as her mound began to press into his upper leg. And then she squeezed his thigh between hers, rubbing her moist peach against him.

  “Molly, Molly. If I’d only known.”

  “I was trying to land huge atom-bomb-type hints on you for weeks! What took you so long?” She smiled.

  Am I that dense? “Well, I was having some wonderful fantasies about…being…with you in the stacks.”

  “Oh, good! We should do that too sometime.”

  Carl was thrilled she was thinking about another date.

  Is this a date?

  Molly straddled his hips and undulated back and forth, arching her back so her perfect rosy breasts protruded out, then presented them to his face as she lowered herself on his shaft. She rode him with soft movements, the light blue veins under her milky white skin becoming places he wanted to kiss. Her red hair hung down over her right shoulder and bounced on her breast as he pumped her. His hands smoothed the surface up her belly, between her breasts and then up to her neck. She sucked on his fingers, rolled her head to the side as he felt her muscles take hold of his cock and milk it. Just under her earlobe he saw a large reddish hickey.

  Did I do that?

  And yes, he remembered he did. He touched the bruise with his thumb and felt himself lurch, as he dug his cock deeper into her. He tipped her on her side and rode her at side angle. Her pink knee and leg rested over his shoulder. He held her little plump ass like a pillow, gripping it at the sides with both hands and plunging in over and over again to his hilt. When she raised herself up on one elbow and pushed herself against him he exploded, spilling his seed into her. Her muscles held him tight, and then released him as they both exhaled and collapsed.

  He started worrying about being late for class when she insisted she shower with him. Again. But all she managed to do was get him rock hard and make him promise to get together with her tonight.

  How could I refuse? Besides, he had to even out the mark on her neck by making another one on the other side. And there were a few positions he wanted to try…

  Jeremy was in class early, as usual. Carl had on his red sweater vest, but today, Jeremy wore none. He wore a long-sleeved designer tee decorated with skull and crossbones mixed with red hearts.

  “No bow tie today?” Carl asked, as he turned and began putting notes on the chalkboard.

  “I decided I didn’t like the way they looked.”

  “Well, it is for older folks. Stuffy teachers, like myself.” If he only knew how perfectly young I feel this morning!

  “Well, I figured they’d be even too stuffy for you, so I burned them all last night.”

  Carl thought this was an odd statement. He continued writing on the board as several students walked in and took their places. Jeremy stood his ground.

  “Saw you last night, you know.”

  “Oh really? Well, class is about to start.” Carl leaned around his troubled student and said good morning to several others as they filed in. But he wondered if the little creep had been looking through his bedroom window.

  Why in the world would I think that? There was something strange in the air.

  “Saw you at O’Toole’s. You were drinking a beer and reading a book. You left before I could come over.”

  Was Jeremy following me around?

  “Jeremy, please take a seat…”

  “My friend works at Copymagic, said you made some copies.”

  “Yes. I’m doing some research.”

  “Need any help with that?”

  “No thank you, Jeremy. Now take your seat, please.” Carl looked out at his class. “Okay everyone, today we start on chapter seven of the red book.”

  Jeremy nailed him with an icy stare that chilled him all the way to the bone.

  Chapter 9

  Jonas never frequented the dancing dens in the Underworld, mostly because he couldn’t stand the stench of Red-X and he didn’t like being pawed over by the men and women who haunted such places. But his mission was to find the other dark angel with the silver medallion, Rupert Blade. He didn’t recall if Peter’s last stage name—the name he was born with as a human—was Blade. Peter had been Director for such a short time no one knew much about him. Jonas grew an immediate dislike toward him, despite the fact that Jonas was part of the security force and was charged with protecting the Director. His quick assessment of the man sprang from some place deep within his soul. Trusting his instincts had kept him alive all these years.

  Would he see a family resemblance between the Peter he knew and the elusive new recruit who dismembered the girl? What chilled him most was that the cretin who murdered the girl was looking at the camera the whole time. Though her friends were all over him, trying to make him stop, he completed his deed with the cool grace and strength of a trained killer, grinning into the camera, defying the consequences.

  He’s goading me.

  Jonas would look for someone with very pink skin, someone who resembled a pimple-faced youth, but was really much older. And someone who looked sick.

  That’s going to be a tall order down here.

  The Pussycat had large elevated pink cages set up at various places around the room amongst the small black tables and chairs. The dancers inside were in various states of undress. Part of the sport was for the patrons to rip off the clothes as they danced, which would occasionally cause a bloody scratch, or a stiletto heel through the hand, rejuvenating in less than an hour if the injury wasn’t too grave. To even the odds, the girls were chained by one ankle to the cage floor. It was exciting, but dangerous to sit too close to the cages, as some of these dark angels were expert in harvesting themselves a patron’s eye with their spiked heels. Eyes didn’t grow back like wounds to other body parts. It was rare to see a man with a patch sit too close to a dancer.

  The room was packed.

  Jonas walked to the bar and greeted his old friend, Simon.

  “Well, well, when the Director’s away the boys will play.” He reached his multi-tattooed forearm over the bar and gripped Jonas’ hand.

  “Yeah, well I’m meeting up with her
tomorrow. I’m sort of here on official business.”

  The bartender made a sweeping motion toward the crowd and said, “Take your pick, son. I’m sure there’s got to be at least a few officials here.” He threw his head back and laughed, showing off his red teeth. Then he leaned over toward Jonas and whispered, “And officially, anything that dances in one of them cages is the best piece of ass anywhere in Undertown.”

  Jonas knew the older angel had firsthand experience. But his own appetites had changed since meeting Audray.

  “Simon, I’m looking for a new recruit, someone who came down here within the last month. He’d have a place upstairs, arranged by Peter. You know such a lad?”

  Simon looked at Jonas and scowled. “Now what would you want with the likes of him?”

  “I’m not allowed to say.”

  “Don’t go messing with that lot, Jonas. They’s up to no good.”

  “They?”

  “Well, before his demise, the former Director had been turning souls left and right. It got to be like some kind of frat house upstairs. After your Audray took charge, I figured it was safe so kicked ‘em all out two days ago.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “How did he learn to turn so quickly?”

  “To be honest with you, I always liked the way Josh did it. He really trained them, gave them guidance on the ins and outs of claiming souls. These lot are real butchers, almost grabbing people off the street. They’ve been lied to, told all sorts of things. Then they would hang around here moping, crying in their X, pick up a girl and get lost for a few days. When they was ready, they’d come back and then they’d start bringing more new ones in.” He wiped down the counter with a pink-stained rag. “Never saw so many new recruits in my life, almost like they was building a freakin’ army.”

  “What about Peter’s involvement?”

  “Well, they was totally pissed the day he got whacked.”