10. Hellena

10

HELLENA

S piral, dip, leap, twirl.

In his hands, I can't fall. Lifted over his head, back down, spin, whip my head back, arch my back over his powerful arm.

Striped with those tattoos that made my mouth water the first time I ever saw him without his shirt on.

Bent backward, I feel his lips, his nose seeking my throat, the hollow of my clavicles.

"Evan…" I whisper to the darkness around us in the studio.

It's our place. The first place we ever…

"Hell." His voice is pitch-black satin on my skin.

It's rhythm and music, pulsing through my body as he explores my naked body with his mouth, gripping me firmly in hands I trust more than myself.

Supporting my thick thighs, wrapped around his middle.

My back eases down onto the platform in the center of the room, my arms outstretched over my head. Feeling him throb against my core, as hard as the muscles in his chest, his arms.

Harder.

He knows exactly how rough to be, how sensual to keep the movements of our gyrations.

One nipple, then the next, drawn sumptuously into his mouth, worshiped completely with a firm, scalding hot tongue.

That tongue that finds its way lower, wrapping around the button of my intense desire.

Curling and teasing.

Spiraling, like our bodies on the dance floor.

Diving down to taste my entire sex, exploring every inch of my grooves, the soft, smoldering center of my pleasure. And at my entrance, he takes his time.

Savoring me, making goosebumps explode across my thighs, down my calves, curling my toes.

And up along my back, nestled in silk, buzzing through my neck and scalp.

My arousal covers his tongue and his lips when he rises from devouring me, locking gazes. I'm on fucking fire.

All I can do is reach down, clutching at his face, thumbing the slick at his chin. Slipping my fingers into that feathery raven hair, pulling him back down, pulling my arms together to squeeze my firming breasts, relieving the ache filling my chest.

Like he can read my mind, he spears his tongue into me, both hands finding their way up my hips and sides, cupping and caressing, the flesh pooling between his fingers as he massages the tender flesh of my bosom.

Shudders of the intense aura building in my middle draw a soft chuckle from his lips, hot breath skimming along my soaked folds.

"I love the way you taste…"

"I love the way you taste me."

"Here's a taste of what's to come…"

Deeper, his tongue explores me, entering me as one hand presses down on my lower abdomen, stilling the writhing roll of my hips, his thumb on the other hand finding its place at the crown of my craving for him.

My need for him to meet my every need.

A climax rockets down my spine, bucking my hips harder onto his face, that sweet release flooding through me, out of me, and all over his lips.

The ecstatic strain lasts for ten seconds, twenty, quavering through me.

"More, gods, I need more!" I cry out, gripping his hair insistently, pulling him to my mouth, to kiss his lips, reaching down to clutch him, pumping the smooth length of his cock with reckless, hopeless abandon.

Lining him up, pushing him to my opening, hooking my legs around him in a sultry demand for him to fill me up. Just the tip of him spreading me apart is enough to start the cascade of another wave of blissful release.

The insides of my thighs quiver, flexed with ripples of release.

And he's not even halfway into me yet.

Evan grins above me, melting my soul, drinking me into him. My eyes roll back as he seats himself fully within me, sending me over the edge with a thrust of his hips…

I won't be able to walk at this rate, but I can't stop, I won't stop. Not until I'm a puddle on this floor. Not until he lets loose on me and?—

"Are you ready, Miss Micheals?" Evan moans into my ear.

Um. What.

"Miss Michaels, we're here," a much deeper voice announces.

I stir from my sleep. The car is still creeping along, but I sense the change in the air. Maybe it's just my imagination.

But it feels like home.

"Where are we, exactly?"

"Trying to find a way through. Several roads are… just not there anymore."

Not to mention that cell phones and map apps aren't up and running without infrastructure. At least I assume that's why I have no cell service.

Just when I get one of the addictive little devices back…

"Would you like to change our destination?" The driver is respectful. Forthcoming. A far cry from the way they treated me until just recently.

"No. Thank you, Jay. The mayor's manor is a good starting point."

The last few days have changed my entire world, and my place in a world I never wanted to be a part of. All thanks to a little smooth talking, paired with strong words and cold, hard cash to back up my promises.

I've only had to resort to violence once.

And I spent an hour puking my guts out in the bathroom after Sing broke the guard's thumb and finger. It's different when you have to make the call yourself.

Order someone to do something terrible.

And they just… do it.

The worst part is that it gets easier to stomach. Easier to justify, to reconcile.

Just like this person that I've become to get what needs doing done. She is so much more capable and cool. And it terrifies me that I could lose myself to her.

Marco returned a few days after I stepped in to hear the report out of Sanctum. It was humbling. Horrifying.

The news, that is.

That the town has gone to shit. Our scouts haven't had to police much, or keep the citizens from rising up or fighting back. Apparently, psychotic drug addicts really are terrorizing the town.

Which helped convince Marco of what I needed to do.

He arrived home late at night, and I was waiting, dressed in an elegant outfit, standing at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't greet him warmly, just cordially. Kept things professional.

I took his coat. His briefcase.

Then I led him to the kitchen where I had a meal waiting for him. Once he was at ease, I filled him in on what had gone on in his absence.

How the scouts had reported in, not just from Sanctum, but from other territories as well. And I gave him the rundown of who was staying in line, who was skimming. It was easy to find out once I started playing dirty.

At least one guy in every crew was more than willing to rat on their buddies for a payout or favor with the boss.

"Numbers are up on protection money out of Portland. The major players in the car racket want better lookouts, so I looked into getting them some cyber security. Hackers will do side hustles for relatively cheap. Cameras, police monitoring."

"Decided to get your hands dirty while I was gone?" Marco smirks, sipping a cup of coffee after his dinner. I could tell he was skeptical.

Until he looked everything over the next day.

Saw the way the men were deferring to me.

Within two days, he was getting irritated with just how involved I had become. Funny thing about Marco. He loves ambition.

Until it starts to step on his toes.

And I figured out just how far to push to get him to want me occupied elsewhere.

Seeing to the management of the house was the first step. Once I had that, I moved on to scheduling his day and organizing his meetings.

Control freaks can't take interference for long.

But I'm competent.

He couldn't find many flaws. Still, I could see it wearing away at him.

At dinner my last night at the estate, I made my final move.

"So I was thinking, when you head down to San Fran this week, I might join you."

"Why?"

"Expanding my knowledge base. Being seen."

"And what if I don't want you to be seen yet?"

"It's got to happen eventually."

"Or maybe you just want to make a run for it in a big city."

"Seeing a big city does have its appeal, certainly. But I hardly want to run. I'm just getting started." The smile I let play over my lips gave him pause.

"You really should keep your sights pointed northward, Hellena. Let me handle my empire for now."

So I sighed and nodded, clearly not pleased.

"I'm restless here, doing no one any good. Isn't there something I could do? Some piece of the puzzle we need to make progress on?"

"I was just thinking the same thing. I was thinking that it's about time for you to share what you know about the Sinful with me. About the… holdings."

"I told you before. I need to recover my father's notes. We were on the verge of discovering the layout of the political infrastructure, their network of spies and government moles."

I watched his eyes light up, even as he tried to hide it.

"And of course, the location of the mines."

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"What do you propose, then? Clearly, you have a plan in mind."

"As a matter of fact, I do…"

Two of my guards get back in the car after clearing a blockade of burned-out cars. Whoever set them is long gone.

The people they ambushed, on the other hand…

Even these hardened criminals look a little pale as we cruise on through the wreckage. With no apparent city services, things you take for granted like ambulances and body removal have fallen to the wayside.

My city is a wasteland.

But I've returned to do something about that.

"Sing."

"Yes?"

Another oddity. He speaks!

"Assuming we can even use the mayor's place as a base of operations, I'd like to get a line on who we still have in town. Redirect them to me with any and all reports."

"Will do."

"And have Werner take lead on guard posting. He's been chomping at the bit to prove himself. He has the brain for it."

"Agreed."

"How are we doing on communication and power?"

"Advance crew's on it."

"Spectacular."

The side of his mouth twitches in the faintest hint of a smile. I haven't cracked the code yet, but I'm starting to figure him out.

At least I'm figuring out how to work with him.

Sing has been far more receptive since I started ordering him around. Not that I don't still tease him relentlessly.

"Favorite food, go," I announce suddenly.

"Mom's goulash." Mannie immediately jumps in. He would eat twenty-four, seven if he could.

"Pizza. Any kind. Any topping. ‘Cept olives." Jay swerves as he says it, missing a fallen boulder. Guy's a killer driver.

"Olives are the best part, you heathen," I mumble, stifling a laugh.

They don't, though. Every one of them chuckles.

It's bizarre what treating your crew like humans will do to them in such a short time. Getting them out of Marco's orbit helps. Not that any of these guys are upstanding citizens.

But they are all handpicked.

Sing and I spent a long time conferring on that before I approached Marco about leaving. He was especially impressed with my choices and my reasoning.

Albeit a bit more suspicious.

No doubt, he has at least one or two guys in the posse checking in with him.

That's to be expected, though.

"Sing?" Mannie asks, continuing the trend. Every once in a while, I ask some innocuous question about things they like. Bonus, I know how to reward them better.

Might not buy true loyalty, but honey and flies.

"Probably organic wheat paste and protein powder." Jay snickers. "Beep-boop. Insert fuel."

"Ooh, or maybe he's solar powered, eh?"

"I'm certain I've seen him at least pretend to eat once or twice. Do robots have taste buds, Senegal?" I add, riding the line of impropriety.

I can't help myself.

Humor has always been my go-to therapy for staying sane.

And as long as I don't go overboard, it seems to endear these blockheads even more. Just have to make sure they understand who's in charge.

"I enjoy Mediterranean cuisine." Sing says softly, looking out the window. "And barbecuing smartasses."

The last comment is almost inaudible and has me slow turning to look at him, covering my mouth to keep from snort-laughing.

"Looks like the generator's working," Jay announces, turning onto the long, walled drive to the mansion.

"Thank goodness. Make sure everyone has a chance to clean up, rotate guard duty, and let me know what our food situation looks like."

"Sing didn't tell you? The rear van is loaded up with everything your majesty could want. Miss Jessica tagged along for the ride, too."

"That… is the best news I've heard all day."

Two armed men in sunglasses and polos wave us through the gate, and in moments we're on the lawn, or what's left of it, stretching and giving the place a once-over. It looks pretty much untouched, aside from the damage to the trees, the mud slogged through the grounds. Hopefully, the house didn't flood too much.

"Wait here."

"Why?"

"Because my job," Sing snaps coldly, heading off to sweep the house and the guest building.

Gotta give the guy credit, he does it well. And I'll admit that I trust him more than the rest of my security detail.

After a few minutes, he trots down the main entryway stairs, giving me the ‘all clear' to head inside.

Being here is so strange.

Not that Tell ever really called this place home, not really.

But it was his family's. Just knowing that he grew up in these walls stings in an odd, remorseful way. At the same time, it makes me feel closer to him.

So much so that I almost expect to see him around every corner on my way to the office on the second floor. I keep looking for green eyes in my crew, a sign that he's infiltrated my inner circle.

God, I would love for him to infiltrate me in any way, right now.

Wow. Focus.

"Orders?"

"Get settled in. Once we have the lay of the land, I want to put out feelers to the locals. See who's in charge where. Our first move needs to be restoring some order to the parts of town still standing. Power. Water."

I rattle it all off, like I actually know what the fuck I'm talking about.

Fake it ‘til you make it, right?

"Then I'll look into finding what we came here for."

"Don't wait too long."

"It's going to take as long as it will, Sing."

He shrugs, and I know exactly what he means. Marco will only tolerate my excursion for so long before he expects results. And I don't mean the safety and wellbeing of the townsfolk.

I pause as I enter the office, noticing the papers on the desk, the disarray.

"Someone's been here."

"Before we arrived, yes."

"And they were looking for something."

"Did they find it?" he asks, leading.

"Good question," I comment absently, swiping through the mess. Old family files, mostly. Titles to land. A lot of it is useful, if only for the sake of property ownership and rights.

Even at a glance, I'm floored by the scope of the deeds.

Tell's family…

Owns most of Sanctum Harbor and the surrounding lands.

Which begs the question, why was Mayor Vanderbelt not a seated member of the Seven?

Well, that and about a thousand other questions I can't wrap my brain around.

Like the fact that Tell technically owns most of the city now that his dad is dead. Not that it matters if there's no town to save.

Just like that, another light switch clicks.

"Sing. I need you to do something for me."

"I'm already worried."

"Shut up. Actually, do the opposite. Make a lot of noise around town. Put on a show. Let every single person in the vicinity of Sanctum, in the nearby radius, know we're here. And give the order to our guys to help wherever they can. Let them all know that Hellena Michaels is back in town, and she's here to stay."

"Shall I paint a target on your back while we're at it?"

"Bring it on."