Chapter Twenty
The plan went off without a hitch. Lord Full o’ Himself was all too happy to drive her in his “wagon” or “chariot”—he used the terms interchangeably—to a house that Jordy claimed to have access to for the night. It was a beat-up Kia that had tons of snack food wrappers, empty soda bottles, and flyers from the Faire in the well where Jordy’s feet rested. The back seat, and she suspected the trunk as well, were filled with duffel bags and boxes that held his worldly possessions. She guessed that he probably stayed in one of the campgrounds near the Faire, if he didn’t just live out of his car and use the facilities at the Faire.
He had been a little disappointed to see Jordy was still wearing her work clothes, which consisted of her Ops vest with multiple pockets, all filled with things she might need throughout her shifts, fingerless gloves, shorts and sneakers. He of course was wearing his usual Medieval garb, although he had added on a heavy cloud of Axe body spray.
“Art thou comfortable, milady?” He was referring to the a/c in the car, but Jordy guessed it was another ploy to reach over her side and move the dial. He had already asked her several times for “her pardon” as he found numerous reasons to go for his glove compartment, while accidentally brushing his fingers on her bare arms or legs.
Jordy had to bite back her distaste as he kept trying to touch her, or even worse, steal a kiss.
It was a good thing she hadn’t eaten that much at the Staff Caff for dinner, otherwise that would be on her lap right now.
Finally Cadmus’ rental house was within view.
“Milady? Are you sure ’tis unoccupied? There are two wagons in the driveway.”
Jordy was about to make some excuse for Billy Bob’s POS truck, but it wasn’t there. Aside from Cadmus’ rental car, there was another ride, a sportier model in bright red. Billy Bob must have upgraded.
“It’s ok,” she said. “Just pull over where you can.”
Lord Octopus cut off the engine, and then turned to Jordy with a leer. Three of his chest hairs peeked out from under his seat belt, which was still fastened.
“How about a little kiss first, milady? I see thou art eager too.” He noted that Jordy was already free of her seatbelt, but as he made to unbuckle his, she placed a hand on his to stop him.
“Yes, I am!” Jordy faked enthusiasm. “How ’bout we start with a hug first?”
Jordy withdrew her hand, and Lord Lecher grinned stupidly, his arms already reaching for her. She smiled at him as she let him wrap his arms around her, and—
“Ow, what thefuck?” Lord Stupid pulled away from her, and stared at his side, incredulously. Protruding from his normally billowing white shirt was a hypodermic dart, a stain of blood already spreading from where it had been stabbed into him, forcefully.
He reached to pull it out, but Jordy was ready for him. She had a metal industrial C-clamp in her fist, one of the many pieces of hardware she kept in the pockets of her vest, and punched him in the head before he had a chance to block her.
And punched him a few times more in the face for good measure.
Between that and the dart, which she knew Cadmus used to acquire the men for his rituals, it wasn’t long before she didn’t have to worry about Lord Loser fighting her back or getting away. He was slumped over, still bound by the seat belt. Still, she pulled out a roll of silver duct tape and quickly wrapped his wrists, forearms and ankles.
She steeled herself to pull that skanky hair up to lift his head, and slapped a final piece of duct tape on his mouth, over some of the scraggly hair on his chin that passed for a beard. She hoped she got to be the one to rip that tape off, but she wasn’t going to be greedy. Just the thought of how happy Cadmus was going to be seeing her offering was going to be enough. And “you’re welcome,” she said, towards the other Faire employees who would no longer be subject to his pomposity.
She left him in the car, and swaggered up to the entrance of the house. Wiping the palms of her fingerless gloves on her thighs, she pressed the doorbell. The cars told her that Cadmus and Billy Bob were inside, and she guessed from the footfalls she heard on the other side of the door that they weren’t heavy enough to be that oaf.
She couldn’t suppress a smile as the door opened to reveal—
Not Cadmus.
And definitely not Billy Bob.
A tall guy around her age with short dark hair and wearing a tracksuit stood in the doorway, his face in shadow with the light behind him.
“Well, well, well.” He put one arm up on the doorjamb, lowering his head towards her. “What do we have here?”
He had a predatory smile on his face.
Jordy’s was gone, as a wave of fear took its place.
* * *
“It’s time for a break away from the computer screens, Simon. Won’t you join me?” Jemima Danes’ voice cooed from Simon’s computer speakers. He had set it up so he would get prompts every time the motion sensors detected that he had been sitting too long in his state-of-the-art, ergonomic office chair. There were also prompts for him to drink enough water throughout the day, but he had made sure they only sounded in the confines of this room, with the door closed.
Apparently once the boys got used to the voice being a recording and not that of a disembodied spirit, they started to hoot and holler every time they heard it. That was the polite phrase, for their very impolite responses to the actress’ prompts.
