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  Jo is fed up with playing games. Hiding and running away can’t protect her from the Cartel’s stalking. She decides to raise the stakes and venture herself on a search for the ruling board of the worldwide-operating crime ring. But her enemies don’t play by the rules. They play a special card, and Jo must face her death.

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  Lover

  Copyright © 2013 Valerie J. Long

  ISBN: 978-1-77111-614-5

  Cover art by Carmen Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

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  Smashwords Edition

  Lover

  Lioness’ Legacy III

  Zoe Lionheart 14

  By

  Valerie J. Long

  For Marlies, Lin, Tina, Jay, Vicky, Bri, and Carmen—this one is for you

  Part One

  Courage

  Chapter One

  ”Ey, Claw.”

  Claw? Automatically, I checked my fingertips. No, there was no trace of my golden claws, only ten ordinary if perhaps too long and pointy fingernails. So the blond young man in leggings and long tee shirt only saw a hot young woman in me?

  Young—yes, of course. I could account for forty-one springs now, and that it didn’t show surely wasn’t owed to my way of life. With my short one-and-a-half meters and my toned body, I’d pass as twentyish, and my braless tits had always attracted male attention.

  Okay, so I was a hot claw for this guy in front of me, who could well be my son. For that he deserved a smile. “Yes, sweetie.”

  With one hand, I pointed to the free chair at my table. He placed his coffee mug down and let himself drop on the seat. Sitting with slightly spread legs, he easily showed me his swollen cock inside the thin and skin-tight pants. “I like you, Claw.”

  “I see that, sweetie.”

  “Well, and what about us?”

  Good question. The most recent rapes by the cops lay only one day behind. Was I already interested in sex again? Or at least ready to tolerate a firm rod? Tolerate mentally, that is, because I could always be wet and ready—another side effect of my enhancement.

  To my amazement, I discovered, yes, I was ready. Yes, I wanted to live. Yes, I wanted to feel my aliveness with all senses. Yes, I wanted simple, unrestrained sex without domination rituals and without the subtext of a useful partnership, without the unpleasant circumstances of a rape, and without the business context of my primary profession of prostitution, but simply out of a spontaneous feel of affection.

  I glanced straight into his eyes. “Are you ready for unconditional passion, sweetie? For lust without mercy? For the ride of your life?”

  He returned my glance with expectantly widened pupils. “Claw, if you’re looking for this kind of ecstasy, I’m your man.”

  “Claw, you’re Dragon hot.”

  “And you’ve got quite some stamina, sweetie.” My fingernails cautiously ran across his slightly limp penis, a bit sharp, a bit gentle, until I sensed the hoped-for reaction. He moaned.

  “A break, Claw, please!”

  “Well, okay.” After a last poke at his glans I granted him a rest.

  “What do you do, Claw?”

  Stealing. Like Robin Hood, I took from the rich and gave to the poor—that is, to me. Fucking for money. Poker. Always alert, always on the run from the Cartel that mustn’t learn about my true identity. And more recently, also hunted by Japanese Dragon cultists. But all that applied until yesterday.

  I’ve had enough of running away from the Cartel and the cultists. A life lived in fear is a life never lived. What good had it done me? Could I feel safe? No. Did I live well? No. Often, I had enough money for lunch, for clothes, for a decent hotel bed—but did I sleep peacefully? Did I have friends? A home? Comfort, security? A future?

  There were no safe places left for me, so I didn’t have to look for them.

  “Some people have bothered me. Perhaps I should bother them back.” I read doubts in his features. “I’m good at bothering people.”

  “Okay, I won’t say a thing. Angry April wasn’t taller than you, either. Well—who bothered you then? I have a friend with the cops, so perhaps I can do something for you?”

  “The cops are at the very top of my list.”

  Chapter Two

  “Could it be possible that we know each other?”

  I had to put my head far back to see his face, as he was two heads taller than I. His bald head shone in the sun. “We’ve never met before.”

  “Who did you bring to me here, Tony?”

  “Well—”

  “I’m Jo. Sweetie—Tony—picked me up yesterday. We’ve fucked all night, and afterward he said that you could help me bother some people.”

  He laughed and held one hand up. “Nebadiah, Neb for my friends. Hello, Jo, nice to meet you.”

  His handshake was brief and firm. “Hello, Neb.”

  He further scrutinized me. “I’ve seen your face somewhere before.”

  “In your computer.”

  “So? Help me out. Is it related to the little favor Tony mentioned? Trouble with vice, perhaps?”

  “No. Until two days ago, I’ve been a guest of your colleagues. They’d arrested me for suspicion of burglary and thoroughly grilled me.”

  “Did you actually burgle?”

  “No.” At least not when they caught me.

  “How bad was it?”

  “A few rapes, beatings, electric shock burns, and a broken arm.”

  “Crap.” He gazed at Tony. “That’s how it is nowadays. The young colleagues don’t know better. I can’t help there.” He focused on me again. “That’s simply bad luck for you.”

  “I know.” It was just sex, and a few blows, so what? “They sold me out to the Cartel.”

  Neb only flinched.

  Tony’s features completely slipped. “Cartel? You didn’t mention that, Claw! Neb, I didn’t know about that!”

  “No worries, Tony. Jo—”

  “I know, Neb. Why should the cops sell a little street rat out to the Cartel? And why should you risk your ass to help me? You shouldn’t. I only need a lead, and then I will tend to my problems myself. I’ll be grateful. You won’t regret it.”

  There was interest in his gaze. “I see what you mean. But the Cartel is an entirely different animal.”

  It didn’t sound like a No yet. I waited.

  “Jo, even if you’ve had a bad experience—I know, the young fellows just take what they can get—when it’s about the Cartel—aw damn, we’re in Denver!”

  “Yes, and?”

  “We older people haven’t yet forgotten about courage and decency. Two women have risked their lives to rescue our city. Just so. Did you ever hear the name of Zoe Lionheart? Or April Winston?”

  More than that. I had personally met the former, even if I didn’t look that old. “I�
�ve seen the monument at the central bus station.”

  “They rescued people from a burning house and then disarmed a nuclear bomb in the city center, just like that. For that deed, we still owe them. Crap, they’ve taught us a lesson about standing tall against terrorists and criminals. The Cartel won’t break us that easily.”

  Neb focused on Tony.

  “Okay, for my sake. But keep me out of this. My old man would have a heart attack if he heard about it.”

  “Sure. Just leave Jo and me alone now, okay?”

  “Well then. See you, Claw.”

  “See you, sweetie.”

  “Let’s start from scratch,” Neb demanded and leaned across the small bistro table. His hands were playing with the small sugar bag. “Who sold you out to the Cartel and why?”

  “I don’t know who. That’s why I’m here.”

  “And why is the Cartel after you? How do you know, after all, and are still breathing?”

  “I must have bothered them once. You surely don’t want to know about that. And I’m quite good at evading them.”

  “Yes. How did you evade them this time? Come on, you have to tell me something if I’m going to help you. How else would I find the colleagues who sold you out?”

  “Well. You could say I had a little help.” Before the cappuccino paid by Neb could cool down, I took a sip. “Three cops fetched me and brought me to an interrogation room. They didn’t grill me, however, but left me alone until the killer came.”

  “Go on.”

  “I struck the killer down and snuck out.”

  “Sounds easy, the way you say it. You’ve taken a Cartel killer out.”

  “Well, I guess he didn’t expect a little girl to offer any resistance. I took him by surprise.” I had stuck under the ceiling, invisible, but Neb didn’t need to know that. “The way out was easy—because of the killer, your colleagues had all looked the other way.”

  “Then all of the precinct is involved. Crap. Now I only need to know which.”

  “That’s not hard to find. It’s lying in ruins.”

  Chapter Three

  “Neb, your coffee is getting cold.”

  “Sorry. I had to digest that first.”

  “I hope the sight of my tits helped you. You’ve stared at them long enough.”

  “Ha, sure. Okay, now I know where I saw your face before. The colleagues would like to talk to you again. According to the statements of those arrested who have to account for our precinct and some policemen, it seems they’ve been after a young woman who had been in an interrogation cell only briefly before. Everyone’s asking himself why a criminal gang would start a war with the police over a little street rat.”

  “Yes.”

  “Excuse the term street rat. It’s not mine.”

  “It’s okay. I am a little street rat.”

  I appreciated that he didn’t add any shallow flattery.

  “In any case, you got out just in time. Good that you haven’t been hurt.”

  Not worth mentioning. A few scratches from fallen debris, a grazing shot, a bath in the flamethrower, a shot through the shoulder, pain like hell, but all had more or less healed already.

  “But you’ve seen how the assault started. Bazookas, flamethrowers, automatic guns—they’ve really shown up with a small army to erase the entire building and, as it seems, all for your sake. You don’t appear surprised.”

  “No.” I knew they were after me, but how could I admit that? The original secret mission in Japan was too hot for Neb.

  “Damn, Jo. The criminals have to account for several colleagues.”

  “Who had just before beaten me up, raped me, and sold me out to the Cartel. To a killer. Why should I shed a tear for one of them?”

  Neb remained silent.

  “That was simply their bad luck.”

  “What do you want from me, then?”

  “I want the pig who declared me fair game.”

  “To do what?”

  “To—aw crap, who’s actually dealing with corrupt policemen? The governor?”

  “The little street rat goes to the governor and blackens a cop?”

  “If at all, I deliver a dossier with all necessary evidence.”

  “And how would you do that?”

  “I’ll get that information.”

  “How?”

  This time, I remained silent.

  “Wouldn’t it be better if you found a quiet job in a remote corner of the world and left these people alone? First the Cartel, and then this gang—a bit much for a lone wolf, isn’t it?

  “Tried that. Didn’t work. I don’t want to play hide and seek anymore.”

  “Well then. Perhaps the fifth faction will help you.”

  “Which fifth faction?”

  He held up his fingers and counted. “You. The police. The Cartel. The gang. The unknown hero.”

  “Which unknown hero?”

  “Someone’s taken the terror gang to the cleaners, and not our colleagues. The victims in front of the precinct had cuts like from a beast of prey, the report says. Ugly.”

  Ugly if he’d find out whose claws that had been. “You don’t mind if I don’t care for these people, either, do you?”

  “Sure.” Neb took a sip of his coffee, still without sugar. “Okay. I tell you one thing—I don’t want to have the Cartel in Denver. And I don’t want to have this other gang in Denver. I’ll help you in finding the colleague who sold you out. In exchange, you’ll give me something that helps us against this pack. They’re all quiet like a grave, and even if you won’t believe it, I’m sure there were many colleagues in this precinct who had no clue about the killer.”

  “Agreed. As soon as you’ve got something.”

  “Give me anything, just a prompt. That would help me if I have to drill deeper internally.”

  “Only against advance pay, Neb. Like on the game.”

  “Show me a tit, Jo. Like on the game.”

  Well. With one hand I pushed my tee shirt some way up. Neb didn’t even smile. “Japan.”

  “Yakuza? Bloody hell.”

  Chapter Four

  “Hello, Neb.”

  “Jo—fuck, you terrified me.”

  “I wanted to make sure that you’re not being followed. The diner is hot.”

  “Better in a dark alley then, what?” He looked around the street and pointed at an unlit passage. I nodded and walked ahead.

  “Jo, I didn’t give you away.”

  “Trust your colleagues to some of their own initiative. They’re looking for me and showing my picture around.”

  “Perhaps you’d better not walk around here so much, then. Cool dress, by the way. Almost like painted on.”

  Or like made of suit nanos. “Thanks. No worries. They wouldn’t even find me if I did a nude tap dance in front of the first precinct.” Because they wouldn’t be able to see me.

  “You’re not looking much more decent with the tight shorts and the bustier. But black suits you.”

  “Thanks. It doesn’t bother you yet?”

  “It’s hard to ignore your appearance. But you didn’t come to seduce me, or did you?”

  “We had better plans.”

  “Exactly. Well, I’ve thought about it. Why should someone take the trouble to report each arrested street rat to the Cartel? The boys at the precinct wouldn’t have a clue, unless there’s a search warrant issued for you. Would that be likely?”

  “No. Unless they’ve made something up.”

  “Think about it. If the Cartel wants to take you out quietly, a computer entry would only be an impediment. Someone would find your corpse, would identify you by the warrant, then they’d follow that trace to the one who accused you, and ask nagging questions.”

  “Wrong way, then.”

  “Not entirely. Let’s do it step by step. For missing persons, the same applies—too obtrusive. Nevertheless, it’s the right track, because every time we check someone in, the data will go to the central computer for reconci
liation against existing warrants.”

  “Which doesn’t apply, according to your reasoning.”

  “Right—but your data is on the net. And there’s nothing easier than filtering your name out of the stream. Bingo.”

  “Who’s got access to the police network?”

  “That’s the crucial point. Normally, the police network is well shielded. There has to be a leak somewhere, not necessarily in Denver, not even in Colorado. The data also goes to the FBI.”

  “Dragon piss.”

  “Exactly. If the Cartel has someone inside the FBI—and that would be much more efficient than a spy in every state—then it’s better if I don’t snoop around too much. So I didn’t follow up on this trace.”

  “But another?”

  “Exactly. I can’t tell you who blew the whistle, sorry. But we’re not done yet. Our Mister X passes the data on. The sought-after subject is sitting in investigative custody in Denver. The Cartel sends a killer to the respective Denver precinct. There, all doors are open. Why? There’s someone inside the precinct who can clear the path.”

  “Okay.”

  “Cartel or not, some of the colleagues are quite peeved for the dead and injured. If the reception desk would have been manned, perhaps the terrorists’ arrival could have been noticed in time? Or did some people receive a hint and sacrifice their immediate colleagues—the ones in the forward rooms? Both variants aren’t appreciated at all. So all are looking for the culprit.”

  “And?”

  “Normally, the involved would keep their lips sealed. But after these events—well. The trace leads to an officer who got a call briefly before the incident. He advised three colleagues to lead you to an interrogation cell, asked the others to go for a coffee for a quarter of an hour, and then opened the doors. Since you had another ominous visitor smelling like secret service before, some colleagues assumed you’d be quietly freed.”