Agent Vixen Collection Read online

“Oh yes,” Alistair said with utter seriousness. Nodded. “That’s him there.”

  Audra glanced circumspectly at the man at Victor von Hammerstein’s shoulder. She gaped at what had to be the most pugnacious looking man she’d ever seen. Built like a brick shithouse, he fairly burst out of the drab grey trenchcoat he wore, all the while looming over his monocle clad master. Eyes set deep in a face more scar tissue than flesh scanned the room slowly with a grim watchfulness.

  “He’s big,” she acceded, being an expert in men whose jobs it is to look large and intimidating. She surely dealt with them enough.

  “And his teeth are capped with metal,” Alistair said. “He almost took a bite out of my shoulder when he caught me.”

  Audra looked again at the massive man’s jaws. His lips moved and she caught a flash. She grimaced. Great. Lunatics. “So where do I come in?”

  “Count von Hammerstein has something of a weakness for women,” Alistair said drily.

  “You played a pretty convincing one last time we met.”

  “Hm,” Alistair grunted. “Yes, well. I fear I don’t have quite the right plumbing to keep the charade up.”

  “So you need me for a cunt on two legs?” Audra said drily. “How flattering.”

  “Well fortunately I know for a fact you have those latent assets,” Alistair said. “Among others. He’s… peculiar. Likes them blonde. Blue eyed.”

  Audra groaned. “He’s a Nazi, isn’t he?”

  “His parents were. But I’m asking for a bit more here than just you giving him a quickie in the bathroom. Victor von Hammerstein is something of a thrill seeker. Plays here every week and rarely loses. He enjoys the challenge and more, loves to win.”

  Audra smirked. “Spied on him in the bedroom, did you? Learn any new tricks?”

  “Is that an offer?”

  She snorted. “Please. I paid you back in change. And you didn’t even show me anything new. Frankly, I’m offended.”

  “Hm. Have to do better next time. Anyway, what I need you to do is to keep him intrigued. At least long enough for him to take you to his chateau. He tends to do that for women he finds entertaining. Until he grows bored of them.”

  “And he lets them go?”

  “Oh yes,” Alistair said grimly. “And afterwards, just before they can leave Rullenburg, they all have very unfortunate accidents…”

  Audra glanced back sharply, but Alistair was staring at the man at the poker table. She saw something then. An anger which shocked her more than a little. She sat up a bit straighter in her chair. “How many?” she breathed.

  Alistair shrugged. “Who really knows?” he said. “Women go up there. Those we know of come back down before having their little… incidents. German authorities looked into it, but found nothing substantial. He’s smart enough anyone who goes into his castle doesn’t suffer an ‘accident’ until they’re gone.”

  Audra’s heart beat a little quicker at that. She looked more intently at the man. Her hand tightened on the glass, her tongue flashing across her ruby lips. Excitement pooled deep in her core with a tantalizing heat. A heat she knew too well. The thrill of danger. Of the chase. “So what do we know? I mean other than the fact that he’s a dick.”

  “The von Hammerstein family were in deep with the Nazi’s and very rich. High scale industry during the war. They were one of those who worked on the V2 rockets. But after D-Day they saw which way the wind was blowing and started working on the Allies. They were supportive during the advance across Europe. Sheltered a number of scientists during the war and helped hand them over to the States after the smoke had died down. Like rockets on the moon? Well, operation Paperclip owes a lot of its success to them. We have nothing but suspicion to go on. German authorities have already inspected the place, but the castle is huge. According to some old maps and blueprints I got hold of, there may even be tunnels under the cliffs. But I never got a chance to see if they’re still there.”

  Audra nodded, thoughtful. Alone, she was to seduce an enemy of uncertain allegiance who, if he became bored with her, wouldn’t hesitate to have her killed. And all she had to rely on was Alistair Smith, a dubious ally, at best. In reality, the only thing between her and a gruesome death her wits, her beauty, and her skill as a spy.

  A smoky smile lit her lips. The thrill of the challenge thrummed through her. She drank the last of her scotch and put the empty glass down on the bar. “Guess I better get to it,” she murmured.

  “Here.”

  Alistair laid something on a napkin. As casually as possible, Audra leaned back and caught it up. She glanced at a pair of earrings with a red stone inlaid in the center.

  “Jewelry? A bit cliché. Not to mention gaudy.” She peered closer. “This isn’t even gold. It’s painted copper.”

  “Radio transmitter. They have a scrambler equipped on the premises so anything more complicated is a no go. Give the red stone a tap if you need evac, and it’ll send out a pulse I can receive. Then I’ll see what I can do about getting you out.”

  “I thought you couldn’t get in?”

  Alistair did give her a smile then. “Oh, I could always get in. It’s staying without being discovered that’s the problem. But, if I didn’t need to worry about collateral…”

  “Oh?” Audra mused, replacing her earrings with the subtle transceivers. “It’s not every day a man volunteers to storm a castle to rescue his princess.”

  “What can I say? I’m a remarkable man.”

  Audra scoffed, but still felt oddly flattered and, perhaps, even reassured as she pushed away from the bar and sauntered across the room. As she went she was already figuring out her cover. An American heiress, maybe? Young and visiting Europe on daddy’s dime. Looking for something fun and exotic. She almost laughed. Close enough to the truth.

  Victor von Hammerstein failed to look up when she took a seat across from him. Unsurprising, as he already had two simply ravishing red heads hanging off his every word as well as his shoulders. Well, Audra thought. I’ll have to change that. The table played was texas hold ‘em. A game Audra was fairly familiar with. Her grandfather had been an avid player. He’d claimed he’d bought himself through the depression playing cards. The dealer glanced at her until she laid down her chips, then dealt her in.

  She was at once the subject of some intent scrutiny. She flashed a smile, her long lashes lidding her eyes as she tapped the table. Obediently a card flew to her.

  “Vell vat haf ve here?” Victor von Hammerstein said, smiling silkily. “Another contestant against I, Victor von Hammerstein? And such a lovely von as vell. Vould you not say, Bludghost?”

  The hulking bodyguard grunted.

  “Why thank you,” Audra said, batting her lashes. “You’re very kind.” She extended her hand. “Silvia Veracrux. Lovely to meet you.”

  He laughed. A sharp, biting sound as he leaned back in his chair and clasped his gloves hands before him. “I haf been called many things, fraulein. But never kind. So you vish to play a game vith me? Vell, I vas getting bored of taking zese kind gentlemen’s money. Such a delightful subject as yourself vould provide ample diversion. But do you haf enough?”

  She withdrew her hand. Rude too. Dick. “Oh yes,” Audra said earnestly. “My father has given me lots of money for my trip.”

  “An heiress? How interesting…”

  “Why thank you,” Audra said, smiling her ruby lips as Victor flicked a shining card to her. She gathered them up, fanning them before her face. “My father’s first generation immigrant from Germany. I always wanted to see the homeland.”

  “Ha,” Victor scoffed. “You see ze ashes of your home. The corpse crawling vith flies. But, do tell me fraulein. Vould you mind if I should measure your head vith some calipers?”

  That threw her a little. “Um… I guess not. But I’d much rather play.”

  “Hm. Pity. Vell. Ve shall see, I think…” Hammerstein showed his teeth in a predatory grin. “Ve vill see, for certainty.” His gloved hands arranged his card
s before himself.

  As Audra glanced at her cards, her grandfather’s words suddenly echoed in her thoughts

  “A megalomaniac, Audra, is an idiot. But he’s a dangerous idiot! Because he has power. Men love power. They love men who use power! He’s a prick, Audra. A complete bastard, but he loves his power. And nothing gets him off more than using it. To be the cat pissing on the mouse. Given the chance, a megalomaniac will spare you just to torment you more if he likes doing it. Triumph over you but know you’re struggling still. Nothing gets their flag faster to half-mast than when their prey gives up. It takes out the triumph! Give them their triumph, girl. Make them relish it! And they’ll never even think you have a knife in your boot, waiting to cut off their balls!”

  So had her grandfather taught her. And as she sat there, across from the cruel eyed man, a plan formed in her mind. A risky one, but the best ones were. Audra smiled, excitement coiling in her like a snake waiting to strike, and she began to play.

  Observations

  Alistair watched Audra from across the room. He felt tense. Unusually so. Audra had earned his respect, despite his misgivings. The job on the Market had done that well enough. He smiled into his fake mustache as he recalled what followed. How she’d stripped before him and mounted him on the hotel bed. Her full, sensitive breasts swaying as she rode him. Her lips, hot, demanding on his own. Alistair was no stranger to lust. But there was more to it. It was the fact he, personally, felt tense that disturbed him.

  He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. He was used to his characters feeling. It was his inner, iron-hard self-control that made him such an expert at disguise. The ability to not just wear a character, but to pave over himself with different emotions. To see what the character would feel and perform it without actually permitting it to affect his core personality.

  So why was he, himself, tense?

  “Bit of a bitch, isn’t she?”

  He paused and glanced at drunk fellow sitting at the bar. Was that mustard on his jacket? Please let it be mustard… “Sir?” Alistair said, snapping back to the character of the always sympathetic barkeeper. Everyone loved to talk to those. He’d gotten a lot of intel with that one.

  The man shrugged. “Yeah. But (hic!)…So it goes. Damn whores. Always… whorin’…” the man muttered, head sinking slowly to his breast. His head snapped back up. “Bitches!”

  Alistair smiled but his eyes were hard. The glass he was cleaning squeaked under the rag. “Sounds like you had some trouble tonight.”

  The drunk scoffed. “Well, guess I just didn’t have enough money. Damn… Mrrr… But! I got enough for this.”

  Still smiling, Alistair took his order. And as he prepared the man’s drink, he slipped in a small pill. He watched the gambler drink it down. And also watched when, two minutes later, the drunk turned green and raced towards the bathroom.

  Alistair shrugged at another man at the bar. “Some men just can’t hold their liquor,” he said. The man grunted and tipped him a glass in salute. Alistair returned it, then switched his attention back to Audra’s poker table.

  And saw her lose.

  For a moment he stopped cleaning the mug. Then, earnestly, he resumed, scrubbing the inside of the glass harshly. Nearly breaking it as he watched von Hammerstein grin, his monocle gleaming as he raked in more and more of Audra’s poker chips. She gave it a good go, Alistair had to admit. Won a few times. Even took out another player, which fed into her chips. But to his dull shock and growing horror, saw her pile inevitably diminish.

  But it was only when she had no chips left, and still played a few more hands, that he felt real alarm.

  A man called and Alistair turned, serving him a beer. When he turned back, von Hammerstein was making for the door, Bludghost shadowing him, and Audra was approaching the bar.

  “What happened?” Alistair said beneath his breath as Audra took a seat.

  She flicked some blonde hair from her face. “I lost.”

  “I saw that.”

  “Lost utterly,” Audra said, and flashed him a smile. “Lost so handily, I now owe him almost eighty thousand.”

  “I’d heard that you were good at cards,” Alistair said, masking the terseness in his voice.

  Audra drew a cigarette from a gold case. She lit one, inhaled, and blew out a thin tongue of smoke. She grinned. “And you heard right. Do you have any idea how hard it is to not only lose, but lose well?”

  Alistair slowed his cleaning. “You lost? Intentionally?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Audra smirked. “You know von Hammerstein well enough, don’t you? The man’s a sadist. A megalomaniac. He doesn’t just want sex. He wants to conquer. To dominate his partners. He wants power over them. And so, I gave it to him. Now,” Audra said, fluttering her lashes. “Now this poor American heiress, out of money, in terrible debt, will do just anything to pay him back.” Audra pressed her arms forward, fairly popping her breasts out of her shimmering dress. “Just… anything.” She grinned and tossed a black card with the von Hammerstein crest on the bar. “Like spend a weekend at his castle, enduring his depravity.”

  Alistair stared at the card, then glanced at her. “Not bad,” he said.

  Audra scoffed. “Not bad is nearly getting your shoulder bitten off by Hammerstein’s bruiser. I am amazing.”

  Alistair laughed. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  Audra flashed a smile and snubbed out her cigarette on an ashtray. She rose, turned, and gave him a wink over her shoulder. “I suppose we will.”

  Evening’s Delights

  Audra locked the door to her hotel room with a smile. She threw off her dress, revealing her lacy bra and underwear. Unable to contain herself anymore, she gave a great squeal of delight and threw herself onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress. Laughing, she crossed her arms behind her head and grinned at the ceiling.

  Not only did she get in with Victor von Hammerstein, but she showed up Alistair Smith. She gave another pleased wiggle. That would show him she’s not just a cunt on legs. She smirked, recalling his expression of surprise, visible even through his disguise. She chuckled and tapped the earrings he had given her, listening to its silver chime.

  Oh, she’d show him. She’d show him yet.

  The ring of her phone distracted her. Sitting up, she reached inside her pocket and flipped out the cell. She cocked it to her ear. “Yes?”

  “Ah my rose. How good it does this old man to hear your voice once more.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Raphael!”

  “You recall!” the old Arab’s voice crooned through the receiver. “Ah, what a splendid thing to be remembered by the young, to whom life and memories are but fleeting events. But such nymphet suddenness is but a part of the charm of a young woman. And how well I know your many assets.”

  Her initial surprise fading, Audra lay back on the bed, smiling, her blood warming to the man’s voice. The events of their last meeting washed over her and how she had at last surrendered her body to his hands. His rough, knowing hands. She’d needed his help to break into a black market bazaar, and had lacked the funds necessary. So they’d figured out an… exchange. Her breasts tingled with the memory of his touch. His lips. The hefty older man had taken her in the back of a hotel, fucking her with a delight. One which, much to her surprise, she had shared.

  “Raphael,” she said, smiling as she lazily stroked a hand over the hollow of her stomach. “This is unexpected.”

  “Ah, but why would it be so my western star? Surely you anticipated this old man’s attention? Did I not say we would speak again?”

  “Hmm. You did. But I…”

  “My dear,” he said, chiding her. “Surely you did not think I have forgotten our little tryst? Ah my sweet, you wound this old man. How could I forget your creamy flesh beneath my hands? How you rose against my kisses and your softness quivered to my touch? How your tender flower blossomed around my manhood? Ah! But this old man could not forget
.”

  Audra laughed throatily. “Raphael, really,” she said, crossing her legs and plucking at the strap of her bra like the string of a harp. “What did you want?”

  “Why merely to ask when I would be seeing you again, my western star. It is so lonely on the sea without the touch of a lovely young woman to enjoy.”

  “Oh but Raphael!” Audra cried in mock surprise. “I though you had your wife for that.”

  “Ah,” the man groaned. “Ah, my sweet. You know how dearly I love my wife. How I adore her pendulous breasts and bitter tongue. Ah, but a man can dream, can he not? He can dream of the young woman who so willingly arched beneath him, sighing with contentment as he thrust within her.”

  “Mmm,” Audra murmured, feeling the raised pattern of her lacy bra. “I suppose I could let it pass.”

  “And it would be so much lovelier, my desert rose, to have you fall into my lap again. To feel you beneath my hands for another night. Merely in payment for simple services rendered.”

  Audra smiled, stretching sinuously atop the bed. His voice, that low, sensual murmur making her knees feel weak with remembered pleasure. “Ohhh my Bull! I would love to find you and kneel before my sultan. But I’m on a job right now, Raphael,” she continued. “And I’m afraid it would simply be impossible.”

  His sigh was so heavy with theatrical despair she nearly laughed. “Ah, a pity my sweet. But so fair a flower must be permitted to bloom in the wild. Yes! For the wild rose is a hundred times more wonderous than the cultivated one, so sterile and filled with stiffened beauty. Ah, but when the wild one has reached its true bloom, then it is time to transplant it. To keep it safe from an uncaring, brutal world.”

  “And you would keep me, I suppose?” Audra said, smiling as she ran her finger up and down her panties, outlining her slit against the lacy fabric. Raphael had many times offered to marry her, and she had always declined. “Keep me as your pretty western bride? Have me kneel before you? Sucking the old bull’s thick cock whenever he desired?”

  “Ah my dear. To have you as my wife would be the greatest prize of this old man. With such a sweet form by my side, and between my legs, I might grow old happy. For a woman needs a man, my sweet. And no boy shall ever make a proper husband.”