Pumpking

Issue 13

"This is not the first time these events have occurred. You wanted to see if I could figure this out- why? Why not just tell me something else is going on? You said in this city- in Capita city, there have been other victims in other cities. You know all about me; surely you know that I'm a gardener and a maid; I don't have any skills I can contribute to your investigation."

"I told you, you have a good eye," He glanced at me like he was annoyed, "What else do you think is needed? I'll pay you for your time."

I crossed my arms over my chest, mulling over his repeat of the same offer. He hadn't changed it, even though it was obvious that my life would be in danger still even if I didn't help. Why no change to the offer? That seemed generous... too generous. Gift-horses and mouths.

"Alright, but I want sixty dollars an hour."

He looked at me, "That's it? That's all it will take to get you to behave?"

"What, you think you can afford to pay me that much?" He wasn't that rich, was he? Surely sixty dollars an hour was far too much?

"I'll pay you thirty-thousand dollars up-front. I want your undivided attention for the next week."

Holy shit. No way, "You're kidding, right?"

"It's only thirty-thousand. I can increase it if that isn't enough for you?"

"You can't just offer that sort of money to any amateur like me- I've only ever watched police dramas on the television," God that would pay off a huge chunk of Dad's debts.

"Good. You are untainted. It's what I want."

We pulled into another hotel less than a kilometre away from the Helios. The motif on the billboard was a crane framed by water-lilies. The Hatori, a six-star hotel. More like a palace. I couldn't afford a room in a place like this. we were on the little drop-off point where taxis and limos liked to pull up to drop people off. The place was quieter than its drab five-star cousin, with one-way glass doors and a host of bell-boys standing armed with trolleys or stern words for anyone who didn't have a good enough reason to breathe the air around the entrance. It was a black and silver monolith with over two-hundred rooms and boasting a chef that had his own television show. I'd heard of it, seen pictures in glossy magazines, but I'd never really stood in front of it.

"Welcome back, Mr Whisper. Please follow me to the lift if you would. We have prepared your supper," The bellboy opened the driver's door and darted around to my side without even batting an eyelash. He was paid too much not to be noticing the dirty maid with messy hair- or Whisper had a habit of these sorts of return visits.

"Oh, right. Can you get the secretary to pick up some clothing for my companion as well?" Ash nodded to me. Like I was some sort of floozy he intended on dressing up? What the hell did the arrogant-

"Of course, right this way."

"You can't just say something like that- I'm not some hooker you picked up-"

"No, you're a lot less expensive than any hooker I would purchase."

I stared at him for a few seconds stunned by the insult. Whisper stepped into the lift; the bellboy waited for me, patiently, not following us, not making eye-contact, looking vaguely deaf.

Finally as the door was shifting to close I stepped forward; bringing my hand up to slap the smug smirk off his face. If I had been any good at fighting I might have punched him, as it was, I'd never been in a fight in my whole life and he caught my wrist and spun me with the movement like I was a rag doll.

I ended up trapped against his chest, my wrist pinned against the wall in one massive palm. The other caught my face and he leaned against me until I was flat against the wall. Warmth raced up my spine and pooled lower in my body. He had the scent of smoke and dust clinging to him but the soft hint of neroli oil under that. He didn't bathe in cologne, merely a small hint if you were close enough to sniff it. His eyes were drowning me; I couldn't stop staring at him, like a lamb trapped by a wolf. His grip was firm but human; not even a hint of all the-strength that had shrugged off a building falling on him. His nostrils flared like he was inhaling my scent, his eyes darkened to something that made my stomach tighten. I was acutely aware of his hand on my waist, like the thin line of contact between us was stirring a wisp of fire along my skin. He was so tense, so sharp I felt like he might cut me with that intensity.

He raised his hand to my mouth, tracing my lips with just that single finger. My attention followed his thumb like it was some sort of lifeline. I felt him soften, felt his desire rise against my lips, his body shifting like he would... like I wanted...

The lift dinged. We jumped like the button had bitten us and suddenly I was disentangled from him.