It took Patterson a little over two hours to re-appear in the doorway, carrying a stack of files. He deposited the pile of paper on Marcus' desk, taking off the top folder and handing it to Marcus.
"Andrew Kerr. Not currently associated with Wolfram & Hart or the Black Thorn, nor has he ever been affiliated with them in the past. He owned a security company but it went bankrupt due to economical down turns. We served in the army together and kept in touch. He's got the brains to do the job and he's insanely loyal. Just the guy you need." Patterson looked at him expectantly.
Marcus thumbed through the thick file and took in Patterson's words. Deciding that anyone would be better than another one of the Thorn's pawns, he nodded. "Hire him. If he messes up, it's on your plate."
"Yes Sir." Patterson pointed to the stack of papers in front of Marcus. "The rest are records spanning Steve Warner's entire career at Wolfram & Hart. I think you'll find some interesting stuff in there."
Marcus looked up from the file in his hand in amazement. "Good lord! How did you come up with all of this? You've only been gone for a couple of hours!"
"I have my sources," Patterson beamed. "It pays to get to know the people in the mailroom."
"I knew there was a reason I hired you." Marcus gestured to the pile of paper on his desk. "Sit down and grab a file, I'm expecting an emergency Black Thorn meeting before too long."
After leafing through the paperwork for a couple of hours, Marcus found what he was looking for. "This should do it." He handed the file to Patterson. "Read this."
As Patterson was reading, Marcus' computer emitted a chiming sound, indicating an incoming message. Jessica. Turning to his screen, he opened the message.
Remember, you owe me a shirt and underwear. Something red would be nice. You can give them to me when you get home.
Marcus chuckled, causing Patterson to look up from the file in his hand. "Funny email, Sir?"
"You have no idea," Marcus answered in a neutral tone, then proceeded to type a reply with a crooked grin on his face.
Make that two shirts and two sets of underwear. I have big plans for tonight.
Seconds later, she replied.
Maybe it'd be better if I don't wear any clothes at all then?
Marcus gulped. That was an image he could do without when there was a crucial meeting in his immediate future.
Where's the fun in that? Now would you please let me focus on my work instead of pleasant things? And you'd better be dressed when I get home...
While hitting the 'send' button, Marcus hoped she would understand the light-hearted tone he'd tried to convey. His thoughts drifted off to things they could do when he got home.
A knock on the door jolted him out of his reverie. Peter's head popped around the door. "Your presence is required in the conference room on the second floor, Mr. Hamilton."
There we go. "Black Thorn?" Marcus inquired, already knowing the answer.
"Black Thorn," Peter affirmed, then backed out of the office again.
Marcus sighed and stood, addressing Patterson. "You take that file and find me some solid evidence on that matter. Preferably within the hour. Call me on my cell as soon as you find it." Marcus left the office, muttering obscenities about the members of the Black Thorn and their alleged value to the Senior Partners. Patterson processed his assignment for a second and then took off in the opposite direction, carrying the file under his arm.
Marcus had stalled his entrance into the conference room for half an hour, giving Patterson the much-needed time to come up with proof for Warner's dishonesty. He'd walked around, pestered Team Angel for a bit, flirted with Angel's blonde secretary -- which didn't amuse him nearly as much as it used to -- and generally bored himself to tears. Finally he decided that he'd gotten on the Thorn's nerves sufficiently and that Patterson should have had enough time to at least come up with something. He entered the room and was greeted by icy stares.
"So kind of you to finally grace us with your presence, Mr. Hamilton," Sebassis spoke up, seated at the head of the large table.
"I know. You should see my schedule for today. It's madness." Marcus sat down while rebuking himself. He enjoyed irking these clowns way too much. He attempted to sound cooperative. "What can I do for you today?"
Vail took the lead, speaking with obvious effort. "We have concerns about your performance, Mr. Hamilton. Two matters in particular."
The two sentences took forever to be spoken. They really shouldn't let Vail do the talking, Marcus pondered. They had a politician in their folds for God's sake. What good was Senator Brucker if she didn't even get to do the thing politicians were best at? Yammering on and on and on... On second thought, maybe Vail was indeed the better option of the two. Marcus remembered his conversation with Senator Brucker last week and how much he'd wanted to jam a pen through her head. He wasn't too sure he could resist the urge a second time.
Glancing around the table, Marcus took in the variety of demon faces staring him down. He let his gaze linger on the guy with the tail -- what's his name again... Izzerial?-- glad that he kept quiet. The guy looked like he was wearing a bad Halloween costume for crying out loud, and Marcus was supposed to take him seriously? Right when he formulated that thought, Izzerial opened his mouth to speak. Crap.
"First of all, Senator Brucker and Ed have brought it to the Circle's attention that you seem distracted from our common goal. Can you explain your behavior?"
The condescending tone of his voice rubbed Marcus the wrong way. He rolled his eyes but managed to keep his tone level. "Distracted? Me? I'm as dedicated to the cause as ever."
The members of the Thorn harrumphed and some of them looked downright incredulous. Marcus let his breath escape in an audible puff of exasperation. To hell with it. Patience might be a virtue but it had never really appealed to him. Except with Jessica. "Well, I could explain, but I don't want to," he stated politely. "Now if that's all..."
"No, that isn't all. Far from it," Sebassis barked. "Senator Brucker has taken the liberty of performing a little investigation of her own and she has come to some interesting conclusions. Senator?" The blue demon gestured for the senator to take over.
Oh good. She just has to put her two cents in. Marcus reluctantly turned his attention to the senator. She smiled at him menacingly and got right to the point.
"Well, it seems that the Nader girl is causing all sorts of unpleasant effects in your personality," the woman said smugly. "We've received word that you've abused the Senior Partners' name for your own purposes, you're clearly distracted from your work by that girl, and you generally seem to be making some misguided decisions. But we'll get to those later. What we want to know is why you haven't disposed of the girl yet as you're known to do?"
Marcus' chuckle lacked humor. "I won't ask how you know all that, 'cause I suspect it has something to do with that lowlife Ernesto that keeps popping up everywhere I go. By the way, if I see him again, he's dust. And as far as disposing of her goes, I'm not done with her yet. Not that I owe you an explanation of any kind."
Ed spoke up. "You do owe us some sort of justification. You're the liaison to the Senior Partners and you're supposed to assist us in being the Senior Partners' instruments on Earth. As such, your business is ours."
"That's where you're wrong, Ed. As long as the Senior Partners don't tell you to butt in, I suggest you stay out of my business. Have they asked you to?" Marcus leaned back in his chair and awaited the answer. A long silence told him all he needed to know. He nodded. "That's what I thought."
Marcus was about to go on a tirade when his cell phone rang. Smiling insincerely at the others, he stood, turned away from the table and picked up. "Yeah?"
"Got it," Patterson announced enthusiastically. "You're going to love this."
Marcus couldn't suppress a broad grin. "Thanks. I'm in the conference room on the second floor. Don't bother knocking, we're expecting you."
Finishing the call, Marcus straightened out his face and looked around the table with a carefully crafted neutral expression. "My assistant is on his way over here. He's found out something you might be interested in. But first, let's talk about my misguided decisions, shall we?"
The variety of Black Thorn members all seemed to harbor different emotions concerning Marcus' insubordinate manner. Sebassis seemed furious, while the bulk of the conversation appeared to float past the sickly Vail. Brucker looked as though she was calculating her chances of cutting Marcus down to size, and Izzerial appeared nonplussed. The leader of the Fell Brethren seemed not too worried about his behavior and Marcus got the distinct impression that that ugly, ugly Sahrvin demon didn't understand one word of the argument. Since those six were the major players in the Black Thorn, Marcus didn't deem the others worthy of an assessment. Sebassis was the first to recover, as Marcus had expected. The blue demon might be an arrogant megalomaniac, but he could think on his feet.
"Yes, your misguided decisions." The voice of the archduke was filled with contempt. "Steve Warner was a trusted and valued employee of this firm and now we have to deal with finding a suitable replacement. Explain your reasons for killing him."
"Gladly," Marcus replied cheerfully. "Don't bother finding a replacement though, I've taken care of it." Patterson entered the room, diverting the angry glares cast in Marcus' direction. "Ah, Patterson. Would you mind revealing to Archduke Sebassis why his precious Mr. Warner had to die?"
"It'd be my pleasure, Sir. Well, Archduke, it seems that Steve Warner wasn't as loyal and trustworthy as one might think." Patterson handed out a couple of papers to the people present in the room. "As you can read in these documents, he was executing an elaborate scheme to channel a substantial part of the Black Thorn's liquid assets into a Swiss bank account. Registered to the name of one Steve Warner. If my calculations are in the ballpark, he'd already appropriated somewhere around one million dollars when Mr. Hamilton here had the common sense to eliminate him."
Marcus looked at Patterson with pride. He couldn't have said it better himself. "Thanks, Patterson. Have a seat." Marcus pulled out the chair next to him and patted it, gesturing for the man to sit down.
"Are you sure you want your assistant to be present during this conversation, Mr. Hamilton?" Senator Brucker asked, giving him a long, supposedly meaningful look.
"Yes. There is nothing you can say that Patterson doesn't already know. In fact, I bet he could tell you guys a thing or two." Turning to Patterson, he added sternly, "Don't, though."
"I won't, Sir." Patterson sat down gingerly, taking in the irritated faces across the table.
"Very well then," Sebassis resumed. "It seems that Warner's loss isn't as distressing as we'd initially thought. That leaves only the matter of your defiant and childish behavior. Not to mention you using the Senior Partners' reputation for your own personal gain, as we've managed to piece together from the information Mr. Parker gave us and the things Senator Brucker found out. You remember Mr. Parker, Mr. Hamilton? You ordered him to send a case file to your office so you could keep your little pet human occupied." Sebassis shot him a disdainful look, then continued, "I'm sure the Senior Partners won't take too kindly to that sort of thing."
Marcus shook his head wryly and played his trump card. "Then answer me this, Sebassis. Does it seem right to you that you, the instrument of the Senior Partners on Earth, have no clue as to their identity? While I, a mere lowly servant, know all that and more about them? Does that give you any indication about where their priorities lie?"
"You're bluffing," Senator Brucker asserted, eyes narrowing at him. "Eve knew all that and look where that got her."
"We'll see," Marcus said, rising from his chair. "Have fun in your little land of denial." With that, he left the room. Closing the door behind him and Patterson, he breathed a sigh of relief and grimaced. "That went well, don't you think?"
Patterson smiled. "I'm sure it'll be okay, Sir. I'll order someone to keep tabs on the Black Thorn so we can get a heads up if they're planning something."
"That would be great. Well, I'm calling it a day. Off to tend to my little pet human, so to speak." Marcus made a face at the demeaning nickname. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Jessica was trying to cook something special for Marcus but was failing spectacularly. She read the instructions on the sauce can again. The roast should have taken about two hours to cook, but when she attempted to slice it, she discovered it was still frozen on the inside. Damnit. What did I do wrong? Wiping the sweat from her brow, she looked around frantically for something else to prepare. Salad? There were vegetables... She searched the refrigerator for tomatoes. Eww. Those are waaay past their expiration date.
Sitting down at the dining table dejectedly, she contemplated sending Marcus a message. Would he like that? Had she interpreted his earlier message correctly? At the time she thought he was teasing her, but he had basically told her to stop sending messages, hadn't he? She reprimanded herself for reading too much into three little sentences. After all, he had work to do, maybe a meeting to attend or an appointment with somebody important. Speaking of work, she hadn't been doing anything all day except for daydreaming about Marcus.
She furrowed her brow. Henderson could wait. Right now, she wanted to soak for a very long time in a very hot bath to relax her sore muscles. She got up and strode to the bathroom purposefully, filling the bathtub with hot water and pouring a copious amount of scented bath oil in it. Shedding her clothes she stepped into the water, sighing as the water enveloped her body. She leaned back and allowed her mind to wander again.
Jessica woke up in a cold bath. Did I fall asleep? She apparently did, judging by the water temperature and the uncomfortable feeling in her neck. Shivering, she got out of the bath tub and toweled herself dry. Choosing her lingerie carefully -- Marcus said he had big plans so nothing that would be dearly missed -- she dressed in jeans and a blouse.
On her way back to the kitchen she decided to make pancakes. That was one thing she was actually good at, having done it since she was ten years old. Gathering the necessary ingredients and supplies she set to work. After a couple of minutes, she heard the elevator ding. Through the open kitchen door she observed him entering the apartment and sighed. He looks sooo good. Without wasting time he set course for the kitchen.
"Something smells nice in here," he commented as he came to stand behind her, encircling her waist and kissing her neck.
"Pancakes," she declared matter-of-factly. Her voice was steady, which was no mean feat considering that his mouth was turning her knees to jelly. She turned around to offer him her lips.
Obligingly, Marcus kissed her. I could get used to this. Resisting his urge to hoist her onto the kitchen counter and take her, he pulled back. "I wasn't talking about the food."
Jessica giggled and flipped over a pancake. "It's supposed to be a sensually scented bath oil. Is it? Smell again. Ooh and feel my skin. It's soft!" She tucked her hair behind one ear, tilting her head so that a large portion of her neck was bared.
Marcus groaned. Evil woman. He was starting to understand the allure of vampirism. "Pancakes and a sensually scented woman in my kitchen. I must be in heaven."
She slapped his chest with her spatula. "Careful or you won't get a taste of either one."
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Watch the innuendo, little girl. Remember who you're talking to."
"Right, 'cause you're the Master of Double Entendres," she scoffed playfully, letting the pancake slide onto a plate and pouring some more batter in the pan.
Marcus smirked. "I like that title. Especially the Master part. You think you could get used to calling me that?" He ducked to avoid the spatula she threw at his head. "You should really work on that temper of yours. People might get hurt."
"I'm not calling you Master, but I'll call you some other things if you keep insulting me," Jessica stated firmly, yelping in surprise as Marcus suddenly lifted her up and deposited her on the kitchen island behind them.
He moved to stand between her legs, caressing the still exposed skin of her neck. "Like what?" he inquired in a silky low voice, sending shivers down her spine.
She swallowed hard, trying to remember what they were talking about. "Um... I'm sure I can think of something."
"I bet you can." Marcus dipped his head down to capture her lips, halting his movement when his face was only an inch away from hers.
"Oh you're going to kiss me now?" Jessica inquired breathlessly. "You're so predictable."
"People like predictable," he assured her and took her in his arms, kissing her tenderly.
Her heart swelled at the softness of his touch and she put her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. Intensifying the kiss, he slid his hands under her buttocks and pulled her up. Her hands started to fumble at his shirt and unbuttoned it halfway, only to realize he still wore his tie and suit jacket. She broke the kiss and swiftly removed his jacket, then took his tie and dragged him closer again. Instead of kissing her, he nuzzled her neck, alternately licking and sucking the sensitive skin. She desperately tried to loosen the tie knot but didn't succeed. A frustrated groan escaped her.
"Let me get that," he chuckled softly and proceeded to take the thing off, eyes never leaving hers.
Jessica felt the familiar tingling in her belly at his intense gaze. "Take the shirt off," she ordered, eyes cloudy with passion and hands already going for his belt.
His hand went up to cup her chin. "No."
She looked at him questioningly, confusion settling on her features. "No?"
"Well, not here," he corrected himself. Damn. What was he doing? Ever since he'd moved into this apartment he'd wanted to have sex on the kitchen island; he'd just saved it for a special opportunity he knew would come. Now said opportunity presented itself -- on a silver platter he might add -- and he declined?
"What's wrong with here?" Jessica asked huskily, taking in the surroundings. "As good a place as any, I would say."
Marcus sighed and accepted the fact that he apparently was keeping himself from having sex on the kitchen island. "I don't want to rush this just yet. Eventually we'll get to the kitchen but right now we still need a bed."
She nodded slowly, a sweet smile gracing her lips. "Okay."
Lifting her up in his arms, Marcus made his way to the bedroom. "I'm able to walk by myself just fine," Jessica protested.
"Yeah, I'm going to have to do something about that," Marcus snickered, tossing her on the bed and pouncing on her. She greedily kissed him and let her hands roam free while he shed his shirt.
Suddenly she pulled away. "Pancakes!" she exclaimed in horror. "They're ruined!"
Taken by surprise, Marcus let himself be shoved away and followed her back into the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks to stare sullenly at the blackened contents of the frying pan. "The one thing I actually can cook and I mess it up," she said, voice trembling.
Marcus took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry. The other pancakes are still fine." Not sure about the right course of action, he settled for stroking her hair. "You know, they'll taste even better after we've worked up an appetite." He winked and smiled crookedly, eliciting a giggle from her.
"Cold pancakes taste better anyway," she perked up. "Race you to the bedroom?"
"Sure," Marcus agreed. "What does the winner get?"
"A night out," Jessica blurted out, then took off running.
Marcus followed suit. A night out, he pondered. What was the harm in that? Could she have been pretending she was starting to like him? Was she still trying to find a way to escape? Or did she genuinely want to go out with him? He couldn't blame her if that were the case; she'd only been out of the apartment on Saturday, spending the rest of the week basically imprisoned. He weighed the pros and cons against each other in his mind, not really wanting to deny her the pleasure. Besides, if she did try to escape, then at least he'd know where he stood; it wasn't like she could actually escape him. If she didn't, they'd have a nice night and she'd be happy. Which was a win-win situation. He liked her happy. Why was that again? Right. Breaking her. It had nothing to do with her smile or the look in her eyes.
She had a two second head start, and although he was closing the gap between them rapidly, she won. Bouncing on the bed excitedly, she grinned up at him. "Well? When are we going out?"
She's so sweet. Marcus frowned at the thought. She was, but did he really have to point that out to himself? It only complicated matters. Deciding that he'd think about it later, but still wanting some distance between them for a second, he removed his pants and folded them over a chair. "Wednesday night sound okay? We could go to the theatre if you like."
"Sure!" Jessica couldn't believe his words. This was proof that he saw her as his girlfriend. If she'd still been his captive, he'd never have agreed to going out. She was so lucky. Maybe he'd come into her life in a rather unusual way, but right now it felt so good. "Um... why are you folding your pants? Isn't it customary to drop them right where you take them off if you're about to have sex?"
He smiled to himself. Who was he kidding? He couldn't resist her and it was time he'd admit it. Why did he fret so much about his feelings anyway? He could just live in the moment and enjoy this while it lasted. Worrying about when it was going to end wasn't going to help matters; if anything, it would speed up the process of getting bored. Marcus turned around and took in her fully clothed figure lying on his bed. "Getting impatient, are we?"
"Uh-huh." She stretched, at least partially aware of the sensual picture she presented. "Coming?"
Marcus contemplated calling her on the double meaning of her question but refrained from it. Nah. Too easy. "Not until you lose the clothes," he smirked, waiting to see what she'd do. There was no way he'd stay away from her for longer than twenty seconds, but she didn't know that. Nor did she have to.
Blushing, Jessica decided that she had no reason to be coy anymore. She basically just told him to get his cute butt into bed so they could have sex, so why did the concept of her undressing while he was watching her make her nervous? She slowly rose from the bed, straightening her shoulders and swallowing hard. Here we go. Eyes locking with his, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it slide to the floor. Praying she wouldn't stumble, she stepped out of her jeans, now only dressed in her underwear.
Marcus gulped, trying to repress the urge to remove the remaining garments himself. "Go on." His voice was urgent, and for a moment he doubted that she'd continue.
Then her hands went up to unclasp her bra and she tossed it aside. Hooking her thumb in the elastic waistband of her panties she hesitated, until Marcus decided to return the favor and rid himself of his boxers. Encouraged by his obvious excitement, she quickly disposed of the last item of her clothing and stood still, unsure of what to do next. She needn't have worried, because Marcus was on her in a second, pulling her flush against him and kissing her oh so tenderly. He backed her up to the bed and softly manoeuvred her to lie down, sitting down next to her and exploring her body with skilful, gentle hands.
Jessica reached for him and he complied, draping his long body alongside hers. For what seemed like hours, they kissed and his hands caressed her everywhere, never speeding up or becoming more demanding. She in turn took her time getting to know his body, kneading, stroking and kissing him all over. She loved to touch him; he was so beautiful -- muscular, with surprisingly soft skin over hard muscles.
Unexpectedly, Marcus was enjoying himself without feeling an instant and barely repressible need for gratification. It was a welcome change. Every time he found a particularly sensitive spot, she reciprocated by discovering an equally pleasant area of his body, some of those never explored before. His usual bed partners were either too scared to do anything but endure, or they were too caught up in the pleasure his hands and mouth brought them. Or both.
Jessica's touch was gradually becoming more urgent, her hands moving to his nether regions more often than not. Covering her body with his, he kissed her deeply, then moving his mouth to her neck, biting down gently as he entered her. Moaning loudly, she held his head in place and wrapped her legs around his hips. Determined to take it slowly, Marcus set his pace with long and steady thrusts. She moved in perfect unison with him.
Watching her face intently, Marcus noticed a sheen of sweat forming on her brow. She had closed her eyes tightly and her gasps indicated that she was getting close to the edge. He sped up, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss as she climaxed. Nearing his own release, he felt the need to have her acknowledge him. "Open your eyes," he demanded, his voice barely a whisper. She did, gazing up into his eyes and holding on to his shoulders as he drove into her harder and faster. His movements became erratic and he muttered, "Mine."
Mine? Jessica thought, as they lay spent. Was that a good thing? She couldn't deny the possessiveness in his voice made her all kinds of warm and tingly inside, but at the same time she couldn't shake a vague uncomfortable feeling in the back of her mind. Attributing it to an overactive imagination for now, she stroked his hair gently, admiring his chiseled features. He looked almost serene with his eyes closed. As on cue he opened them, smiling slightly.
Suddenly overcome with emotion, Jessica cleared her throat. "Come on. Pancakes."
"You go ahead. I want to enjoy the view." Marcus propped himself up on one elbow while Jessica headed for the kitchen. "Niiiice," he drawled, laughing when she shot him an annoyed glare over her shoulder.
After she left, Marcus stretched and folded his hands behind his head. There was something bothering him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that he contemplated letting her go alive when he'd get bored. That moment would come, it was inevitable. It always came, although granted, usually a lot sooner. It could just be that he wasn't used to having someone around all the time; someone who talked to him, took care of him and was worried about him. Maybe that was the reason he was reluctant to kill her. Then again, the mere fact that she should be lying cold and stiff in a pool of her own blood already but was still warm and very much alive and in his bed, didn't mean that there was something wrong. He didn't have to stick to a routine or something; he wasn't a freaking serial killer. Maybe it just unnerved him because he'd unwittingly gotten stuck in a rut. Changing one's ways always brought about a certain level of uncomfortableness, so why should he be any different? God, he'd been in the mother of all ruts, one that'd lasted centuries. Scolding himself for overanalyzing his feelings he rose from the bed. He chuckled. Feelings. There was a time I didn't even have those.