I would have given a lot to take back that smart-ass comment. It had been true, but I could still have kept it to myself.
“Oh, trust me, this invitation was unique.”
“No, Anita, you’re right, I must try harder.” He was angry with me, as if I’d insulted him. “Let us play a game.”
“We came here to negotiate for the release of hostages,” Rocco said.
“And so we shall, Sergeant.” He patted Max’s bare stomach. “Come closer so you can see.”
We hesitated.
“Here is the first rule. When you make me repeat myself, something happens to one of your hostages.”
There was a sound from the other side of the room. Ava was carving a new cut down Rick’s chest. He didn’t scream, but a small sound had escaped him. Ava raised the blade to her mouth and licked the blood delicately away.
I turned back to Vittorio.
“You are not frightened or even impressed. I take it you’ve seen something similar before?”
I had, actually, more than once. Out loud, I said, “I don’t know what reaction you want from me; just tell me and I’ll try to give it to you.”
“What is the first rule?” he asked.
“That if we make you repeat your requests, you’ll have someone hurt.”
“Here is the second rule. I will offer you a chance to do something pleasant; if you refuse, then I will do something painful to the person instead. Is that clear enough, officers?”
I said, “Crystal.”
Rocco said, “Yes.”
“Come over beside the bed, both of you.”
We did it this time, no hesitating. We stood at the end of the bed on its raised dais, looking at Max and his wife, and the smiling sociopath beside them.
“Anita, give Max a kiss.”
“If I don’t?” I asked.
He drew a blade out from underneath the covers. “I will bleed him; one cut for one refusal.”
I took a breath in, then out. It seemed a small request, but I was betting that the requests wouldn’t stay small. “Okay, but if we do this, then you release one of the hostages.”
“For a kiss, it would have to be some kiss.”
I shrugged.
“If I refuse to free someone, are you prepared to watch me slice up the Master of the City?”
I thought furiously, and just didn’t know what to do. Vittorio made a shallow cut across Max’s stomach.
“I didn’t say no.”
“You broke rule number one. You hesitated. Now I’ll ask you again: kiss Max or I cut him.”
I just went to the bed, walked wide around Vittorio, and climbed up beside Max. I looked down into his blue eyes and said, “Sorry, Max.” I leaned over and laid a kiss across his taped mouth.
“Well, you did do what I asked, but that is hardly worth the release of a hostage.” He tapped the blade against his leg.
“Do you want me to kiss him better?”
“Take off the tape, and show me some of that talent I know you have.”
Bibiana made a sound through her tape. I looked across at her. “Sorry, Bibiana.” I took the tape off Max’s mouth.
“He’s going to kill us anyway, you know that.”
“Now, Max, what did I say about talking?”
“You said no talking back to you. I’m talking to Anita.”
“True.” Tap, tap, tap went the blade against his leg. “Well, Anita, kiss him like you mean it, and I’ll let your sergeant watch one of the dancers leave.”
I bent over and kissed him full on the mouth. His mouth was still under mine. I looked back at Vittorio. “A dancer, freed.”
“No.”
“What was wrong with this kiss?”
“Kiss him like you mean it.” There was no humor in him now, just a seriousness that I thought was more dangerous.
I stared down at Max. He was mostly bald, and round of face, but his biceps were huge, his shoulders deeply muscled. He’d begun life as an enforcer, and he’d stayed in shape for it. I could see his strength, but he just didn’t do it for me. I liked my men pretty and a little refined. Max was like a bully-big, scary, and nothing delicate about him-but I bent over him one more time. I touched his face, closed my eyes, and kissed him. Delicate, at first, then with more pressure, letting my arms slide over the hard, muscled bareness of him, and putting some body English into it. Max was absolutely still against me. Bibiana was making a high-pitched sound through the tape.
I turned to Vittorio.
“Very well, one dancer, but I want the next effort to be better, or the deal is off. Ava will choose who goes free, and Sergeant-Rocco, is it?-will watch from the door that the dancer gets away.”
Ava went out, Rocco watched from the door, and apparently they let a dancer go because Rocco came back nodding yes.
“I’ll give you a two-for-one deal,” Vittorio said. “Let the little dancer over there give you a lap dance; if it’s good, I’ll free her and another dancer.”
I walked over to Brianna without hesitation, but once I got there, I asked him, “What do you want to learn from making me do this?”
“Maybe I’m just like all men and have my little lesbian fantasies.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Sit in the chair by Ava.”
I sat in the chair; it didn’t hurt me, and I didn’t want to give them another excuse to hurt anyone. “Untie the girl.”
Ava did what she was told. Brianna took her own tape off her mouth, then looked at me. Her makeup had run down her face like black tears. She rubbed at her wrists and took a shaking step toward me in her spike-heeled sandals.
“I’m offering you the best tip you will ever get, Brianna. Give the marshal a lap dance, and if it’s good enough, I’ll set you and another of your friends free.”
Brianna took another staggering step toward me. I thought, She’s not going to be able to do it, she’s too afraid. He must have thought so, too, because he said, “If you refuse, or don’t do a good job of it, I will use the torch on that soft, pink, perfect skin.” He almost sounded bored.
Brianna dropped her robe to the ground and was in front of me. “Wait,” Vittorio said. We both looked at him. “Sergeant, take Anita’s place; let her dance for you.”
Rocco just started walking toward us. I got up, he sat down, and Brianna started to dance. She had no music, but whatever was playing in her head was something with a beat. She started a little jerky, but then closed her eyes and found her rhythm. It was a nice rhythm. She moved her body in waves up and down Rocco-who had a death grip on the chair he was sitting in, because the rules are the dancers can touch you, but you can’t touch the dancers.
Brianna ended up in his lap, straddling him, grinding her most intimate parts over the front of his pants. His face looked grim, and I was betting he was trying to think of baseball, taxes, dead kittens, anything but what the woman in his lap was doing.
I felt both sorry for him and happy it wasn’t me.
With a last writhe, she bowed herself backward, completely, her legs wrapped around Rocco and the chair itself. She bent back in a graceful arch, her high, tight breasts spilling backward, proving yet again that they were real.
Vittorio actually clapped. “Very good, and the sergeant has held his composure admirably. Flee, little dancer. Anita, watch her go to safety; I don’t think our dear sergeant can walk just yet.”
Brianna picked up her robe and went for the door as fast as her high heels could take her. “Pick another dancer to go out with you, Brianna.” She picked up the pace. I kept the door open and watched her go to the nearest dancer, grab her by the hand, and run out the door with her.
I did a quick head count. We had six dancers left. Six, and then we could get rid of the jinn and try to kill Vittorio. Just six more.
“I make the dancers entertain me before I kill them, Anita. I don’t usually let them go, though.”
“So this is part of your… usual.” I stopped there because any word I could come up with sounded too much like an insult.