Wicked Intentions

Wicked intentions indeed, she thought as she walked past the many couples gyrating on the dance floor. It was hard to keep her mind on task as she was distracted by more and more carnal visions the deeper she went into the club. Normally she wouldn’t even think about setting foot in a place like this, but unfortunately she was fresh out of options. This was the last place her target had been spotted and she needed to find him. There was more at stake here than her squirminess or shattered innocence.

Biting her lower lip in renewed determination she finally managed to reach the bar and sat down on an empty stool. The bartender nodded at her, signaling he’d seen her and would be with her shortly. She smiled in thanks and twisted around until she could see both the bartender and the mass of dancing people. So far she hadn’t seen or smelled anything to indicate her target was here or had ever been here. Still, the night was young and the mass of sweating and orgasming people kind of distracted her senses, a lot.

The bartender moved closer and as he stepped out of the wildly flickering strobe lights she could now appreciate his form. He was thickly muscled, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. His black hair curled loosely around his ears and hung to halfway down his neck. His eyes were so dark she could only guess at their color and he sported an incredibly sexy goatee. He didn’t walk towards her either, no, he prowled. She smiled at him, showing her appreciation. He gave her a slow and heated smile in return that went straight to her lower belly.

Down girl! You still have a job to do, she admonished herself. ‘What can I get you love?’ he asked as he finally reached her. She leaned forward a bit, pushing her breasts out as she went, ‘How about a Coke and some information?’ he blinked at that, looking taken aback before his eyes flickered to something behind her. He nodded and turned away, his hands moving rapidly to fill a glass of coke for her. She thanked him, tipped him nicely and turned around again. A large man stood before her now, even more handsome than the bartender.

His hair was black unlike any she’d ever seen before, with a blue tint and shine to it she’d only ever read about. His eyes were whisky colored and almost reflecting the light around them. His body was sleekly muscled; once again with the wide shoulders and slimmer hips she so loved on a man. His jaw line was firm, a barely noticeable cleft giving his firm chin just a hint of boyishness. His bone structure reminded her of the Greek statues she’d grown up around, it made her think of Gods and power.

She pulled up a single eyebrow, a trick she’d spent a long time practicing before her mirror, and looked at him. As smoothly as she could she took in a deep breath to see if she could detect his scent in this miasma of sensory overload. The moment his scent reached her everything else seemed to have seized to matter. She swallowed, her heartbeat tripling. Oh Goddess, she thought, I’m in trouble. Hoping her face didn’t portray any of her thoughts or sudden uneasiness she smiled at him and sipped her coke.

He gave her a wicked, wicked smile, looked at the guy on the stool next to her and sat down on it as that guy blanched and suddenly had something better to do. She pulled up her eyebrow at him again, wondering what he was about. Another look over her shoulder to the DJ booth and suddenly the loud and pumping music switched to something more suited to talking. Oh my, looks like I’ve found the owner, or rather, he found me. She mused, taking another sip of coke and leaning against the surprisingly clean bar.

‘So what information do you come seeking in my lair?’ he purred in her ear, having leaned forward so fast even she couldn’t dodge him. His neck was so close in this position, his scent penetrated her again and it was all she could do pressing her legs together against the sudden flood of desire. Damn him anyways, she thought as he sat back up, wearing another wicked smile.

Deciding to up the ante, so to speak, she gave him one of hers in return. She stroked the rim of her glass with a finger as if in deep thought before putting the glass down on the bar and dismissing it from her thoughts. No way would she pick it back up now that it had left her hands. She pulled a hand through her hair and pushed it back behind her ear, leaning forward slightly and once again pushing out her breasts. They were already well displayed due to the corset like top she was wearing, the way she now leaned forward and arched her back only made that more pronounced. 'I am looking for someone.' for once she was happy with her slightly raspy voice. His eyes narrowed slightly and for a moment she thought she spotted jealousy in his gaze.

'Why come here?' he remained in his own space this time, and she couldn't decide whether she was thankful for that or not. On the one hand, his scent was intoxicating and made her think of all things carnal and wicked and happily ever after. On the other hand, she needed her wits at full faculty and having his scent in her nose would only disrupt that. 'Why not?' she replied; deciding to be thankful for small favors. His deep voice and marvelous body distracted her enough as it was.

Mate, who would have ever thought she of all people would find her mate, and in a place like this too.

His eyes narrowed some more and she repressed a shiver. Men that already possessed such an overwhelming alpha aura really shouldn't be able to look so intimidating as well. She kind of wished she had her glass of coke to fiddle with now, but that would have shown her nervousness so it was really good she didn't. Forcefully relaxing her body she gave him a vapid smile and tried to turn away from him. Before she knew it he had boxed her in with his hands on the seat of her stool. His scent once again penetrated her senses and she had to clench her thighs against another rush of liquid desire. It made her very glad she had sprayed on some scent neutralizer before coming here.

His nostrils suddenly spread out and his eyes gained a lethal purpose she didn't care for. Fuck, she thought, he knows. It was so past time for her to go and seek her target. She was the only one capable and here she was being distracted by her mate. As if she deserved to have one. No, she had to leave. He could never find out who she was. Purpose once again strong in her mind she smiled at him, put her hands on his arms and allowed her nails to shoot out. For a blindingly short instance she had claws instead of fingernails and she drew blood. Sucking in her breath she cursed herself for failing to forget what the scent of his blood would do to her, then she left him while he cursed and retrieved his arms in instinctive reaction.

She ducked and weaved her way through the crowd until she was almost positive he had lost her. Then she looked around for a waiter. The first one she saw she pulled aside. Normally the next part came with a lot of effort, but right now she was still feeling the effects of her mate on her body, so the flirtatious and sultry come on she needed came naturally. She gained the needed information quickly, and was now left with the need to distract the waiter from her questions. Normally she would just invite him for a hook up or something like that, now even that notion was inconceivable.

Darn it.

No inspiration came to mind so she just gave him another sultry smile, whimpered at him and gave him a look through her eyelashes before walking away with a swish in her hips and a "see you later" invitational look over her shoulder. Job done she was ready to leave the club. So busy congratulating herself and planning her next move of action she failed to notice his scent on time. Her upper arm was grabbed in painful solidity and her body forced to walk away from the door. The crowd parted before her, making her really glad she couldn't see the expression on his face. Fuck. Fuckidy, fuck, fuck! She let her eyes dart everywhere, looking for a way out, without moving her head to alert him. When she finally spotted her back up she almost slumped in relief, instead she alerted him with her eyes she needed him before making her move.

She stumbled, tripping over a broken glass over the floor, and managed to make her body so heavy she took him down with her. Unsuspecting as he had been she was able to jump up and move away before he even really knew what hit him. Desperately wanting to get away without once again allowing him to catch her, and thus setting in motion the Three rule, she used her superior speed to join her back-up and finally left the club.  They ran in silence to the van parked a block away and climbed in. Without much ado she put her hands behind her back and allowed the cuffs to settle on her wrists. She immediately felt her strength draining away and started slowly falling aside.

As her eyes closed she started seeing things other than the usual blackness. This time she saw him, her mate. How she wished things could have been different… But they weren't. She was outcaste, the betrayed. She was anathema. Sold by her own pride to the human government to be used in missions, so the rest of her pride wouldn't have to. She had seen things and done things she could only survive by blocking out all personality and thinking mind, until she became nothing but a machine. All that saved her on the days she remembered what she had done, and those were a lot of days, was the thought of her little sisters safety.

Yet now, when she closed her eyes, she didn't see those things, she didn't feel the chip in her shoulder that enabled them to control her, track her and incapacitate her. No, all she saw was him. Her mate.

In a better life she would have loved him. Now all she could give him was his freedom. Freedom from the repercussions that would follow when her handlers found out about him. Freedom from her and her baggage and her damaged self. In this life, she could give him nothing better than that.

An hour later she was back home, or what served as her home these days anyways. She was unceremoniously pushed out of the van as it slowed down in front of her building, as she stumbled on the ground, bound arms making her balance precariously and her normal grace nonexistent, her handlers caught her arms and brought her to a standstill. She swallowed down her nervousness and straightened, her head held high and chin up. Not liking her show of defiance, small as it was, one of her handlers grabbed her by her cuffs and pushed her forward. She stumbled again, managed to right herself, and started walking towards the open door. The building was made of a drab grey sparsely interwoven with white. The windows were small and square shaped, with a lot of room between them. The sign next to the building said it was a chemical manufacturer and laboratory. Guess she was the only lab rat.

The building was a font for far more nefarious activities than chemical testing. The moment she entered the building she could feel depressions settling on her shoulders, it took a lot out of her to hold her shoulders up and her head high. Any weakness, perceived or not, would be exploited. She walked towards the debriefing room without prompting, waited before the door and entered the sterile room without having to be told. She sat down on the stool; it was embedded into the floor so she couldn't use it as a weapon, something they'd learned she could do the hard way. Another plus of the stool, as far as her handlers were concerned, was that she could sit on it with her hands still cuffed behind her back and that she couldn't lean her back against it and rest for a bit.

Her two handlers locked the door and sat down across from her.

'What did you find out?' The short and bald one asked. It grated her that she was subdued by such weak specimens. Weak in mind, weak in body, weak in spirit. But cunning and evil and mean enough to find the way to dominate her. She hated how submissive she was forced to be, hated how they made her every decision. She got her revenge in small measures though.

Technology did not agree with her, so she could not be microphoned and videotaped when they send her out. Just a chip embedded in her body, somewhere, so she could never escape. Chipped like a fucking animal.

Meanwhile, down town, Wicked Intentions manager’s office

‘You are sure?’ he growled in irritation as he prowled the room from right to left, his hands clenching and unclenching as his nails shot out and in. His best friend, brother and pride mate leaned in the dark brown couch and followed his movements with his eyes. ‘Could you stop with the prowling for a moment? You remind me of a panther in a zoo and I am starting to feel like I’m watching some kind of tennis match. Back and forth and back and forth and back again. Really, chillax.’

He snarled and turned sideways into a crouch, his nails lengthening and turning obsidian. Marc blanched and shot back into the couch, his hands rising in plea for forgiveness. At length Darius straightened and walked to his big leather chair. He sat down and started tapping his fingers on the armrests. ‘I know how it looks. She didn’t have a scent, she didn’t stick around and she showed no signs of feeling any attraction to me at all. But I know, okay? I just know she is my mate and she is in trouble and I can’t do anything to help her and it is driving me insane!’