Page 33 of His Pet

The man had timed it perfectly. The hover-car landed just as she finished, leaving her unsatisfied, needy, and with the taste of sex on her tongue. But she didn't protest as Jordan helped her out of the car.

Blinking, she realized that she recognized where they were; it was a museum. One that she’d visited before she'd been taken. Jordan pulled her inside, her hand firmly clasped in his. The Wolf's soldiers spread out through the crowd walking up the steps, and she realized that only a few of them were in uniform, mostly the ones that had ridden in the same car with her and Jordan. The rest were dressed just like anyone else. So was Jordan, although anyone who thought he was just a regular guy—at his height, with his muscles, and his fluid way of moving—was an idiot. With one heavy arm slung around Trish's shoulders, keeping her pressed close by his side, he moved them into the museum.

It didn't take her more than a few minutes to realize that Jordan wasn't actually looking at any of the exhibits, although he did stop in front of several of them, taking a minute before moving on. Trish looked at the first few, but as she realized he had some destination, some goal, in mind, she found herself becoming too nervous to pay attention. Instead, her gaze began to dart around the room, her weight shifting restlessly as she wondered what he was looking for.

"Stay still and look at the painting," Jordan murmured in her ear, leaning down as if making some kind of innocuous comment about the restored Impressionist painting they were currently standing in front of. "Or I'll spank you the entire ride home."

Immediately, Trish focused in on the painting. It was beautiful, and she'd always loved old Earth art, so it should have been more than enough to hold her attention, but she found herself staring at it without really seeing it. She didn't doubt that Jordan would spank her, the entire ride, which had taken about fifteen minutes, and she really didn't want that. But at least now she knew what he’d brought her for. To help him blend in.

Someone like Jordan would always be noticed. He was too big, too lethal, for people to ignore. But pair him with a sweet-looking young woman like Trish, and he no longer stood out quite so much. People glanced and saw a smaller female with a large, protective man, a possessive one by his stance and the way he was constantly looking around at everyone. They would be judged as a couple, and he would immediately be seen as less threatening because of her presence. Everyone would assume that he was there because his girlfriend wanted to look at culture; they would accept his distraction and preoccupation as long as they saw her focusing on the exhibits.

She understood the psychological and sociological ramifications of her presence quite clearly. After all, she'd always been a good student. Most people wouldn't even realize how she was being used, they wouldn't actually think through why they weren’t intimidated by him, or why they found him non-threatening after seeing her, they would just react.

Slowly they moved deeper into the museum, Jordan directing where they went. Sometimes she glimpsed other members of his team, sometimes it seemed like they were completely alone. The further into the building they went, the more tense she became. To her dismay, he started adding minutes to a tally. Every time he felt she wasn't playing her part, he added another minute that he would be spanking her on the ride home.

By the time they reached the room filled with artifacts of the Ancient Egyptians, Trish was up to seven minutes. She felt Jordan tense beside her, his focus on the end of the room. Pretending to study the headdress in front of her—which, the sign said, was actually a reproduction, as the original was too old and delicate to have out on the museum floor—she dared to look down the long length of the room. There was a group of people down there, a couple and what looked like several bodyguards around them.

The bodyguards weren't even trying to blend in. They were heavily muscled and wore athletic clothing, with suspicious bulges on their hips that were probably guns which had been covered up by the sashes around their waist. The couple must be from very prominent Moon families. Trish hadn't heard of anyone who could afford the bodyguards being attacked; only the wealthiest and most powerful could afford such men, and they were never needed as anything more than a deterrent.

Her heart began to pound as one of Jordan's soldiers—a ferociously deadly woman named Zadia—came up beside them. Zadia frightened Trish. The woman reminded her of Cora. Trish had seen the soldiers spar and she knew that if Zadia joined the mats, there was never any other winner. Only Jordan could go toe to toe with her, and even he could only beat her about half the time. He'd once told Trish that Zadia was going to be his replacement one day, as she was younger than him and soon even he wouldn't be able to defeat her as she grew in strength and skill.

"Everyone's in position," Zadia murmured, her dark black eyes focused on the headdress. She was dressed like a civilian, blending in much better than Jordan did, with her long dark hair and tanned skin. Small, but deadly. No one was frightened of Zadia when they first looked at her, unlike Jordan.

"Good. Watch over Trish."

Surprised, Trish didn't even protest as he moved away. Not that it would have done any good. Jordan began walking, nonchalantly, toward the guarded couple at the back of the room. Trish's eyes widened as she realized that she recognized every single person in the room. The couple and their guards were completely surrounded by the Wolf's soldiers. How had they managed to clear an entire museum room of everyone else?

"What's happening?" she whispered. Zadia hushed her, pulling Trish back toward the entrance to the room, keeping an eye out on the soldiers who were moving in the opposite direction—toward the couple. Were they the Wolf's next targets? Were Alex and Bella going to be returned to the Moon?

But everyone knew the Wolf only took stragglers, those who were dumb enough —or overly confident enough—to venture out on their own. Not couples in the middle of a museum, in the middle of the afternoon, not people who were actually guarded. Whatever was happening, it was more important than the usual kidnapping. She eyed Zadia, keeping her voice to a whisper. "Why aren't you down there with them? Don't you want to be a part of what's happening?"

"Shows what you know," Zadia whispered back harshly. Her dark eyes glinted with smugness. "I was given the more important assignment."

Trish.

She was the more important assignment?

Shouts echoed through the room and Trish immediately turned to see what was going on. Fighting—the soldiers swarming the bodyguards, who were fighting back. Screams—the woman, clinging to the man beside her and hampering him from any kind of defense he might have been able to put up. Jordan was next to them, reaching for them... and then a hand wrapped around Trish's wrist and pulled.

She yelped as Zadia dragged her out of the room.

"Come on," the other woman ordered. "We're going this way."

"Why?" Trish asked, digging in her heels. She could see people already moving toward the Egyptian hall, most of them curious onlookers, a few of them that looked like security guards of some kind.

"In case they get caught. My job is to get you to the rendezvous. From a different direction. Now come on."

There was no way Trish could shake off Zadia's grip as the other woman waved frantically at the approaching museum guards.

"They have guns!" Zadia yelled, sounding completely panicked as she pulled Trish right by them.

Immediately the guards slowed down, approaching the room more cautiously even though the shouting had stopped. They ignored Zadia and Trish completely, which had probably been the goal from the beginning. Trish followed Zadia, knowing that it was useless to try and do anything else. She could probably escape right now, quite easily, but to what? If her scholarship hadn't already been given away, she doubted that the sponsors would be pleased to see her, regardless. No one had seemed to care enough to report her missing to the media. She'd seen the videos. Only Alex and Bella had gotten any coverage.

And she wanted to know that Jordan was okay. Half of the fear pounding through her heart right now wasn't for herself, but because she was worried that he'd be caught or hurt. Stupid, because she knew that he was kidnapping or maybe even murdering someone else right now, but there it was. All she could think about was what might be happening in that other room. Sure, Zadia's warning about guns had slowed down the guard, but wouldn't it also make them more likely to use deadly force?

The fact that Jordan had separated himself from her, putting Zadia in charge of her safety, also said that he wasn't entirely confident in the smoothness of whatever plan he'd enacted. If he'd been sure of himself, he would have kept Trish by his side. She knew that much, because he rarely let her go anywhere without him.

People were already panicking all around them as alarms began blaring, blending her and Zadia into the crowd as they rushed toward the exit. The second they got outside, Zadia turned, giving Trish no choice but to follow along behind her. She was sure that she was going to have red marks on her wrist from Zadia's unrelenting grip. They hurried down the street, which was boiling over with people going in all directions, staring at the museum as the alarm was audible even from the outside of the building.

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