Читать книгу Chocolate Damsel - A.C. Masons - Страница 7

Chapter 2

Tension filled Alexia Pane as she and her fellow dancers, Monique and Jill, peered out the window as they waited for Annette to return with news. Waves of fear pounded her body from all directions. The citizens of Paris radiated dismay. Her vision blurred, and she gripped the table next to her. Swaying slowly, she inhaled then exhaled. She hadn’t felt this disoriented since the night her brother drowned. Would she survive the night? Being an empath had its advantages, but right now, her senses fried on overload.

“Nazi soldiers are marching toward us.” Annette rushed backstage. “Alexia, hide, and no matter what you hear don’t come out.” The sharp edge of her maple stare sent a shiver through her. She pushed Alexia toward the inner wall.

As word got around that Paris would fall, the women she had danced alongside for the past year had devised a plan to keep her out of sight. Being an American and a woman of color put her in grave danger.

Behind Monique’s dressing station an opening gaped in the wall. Monique and Jill pushed aside the dresser covering it.

The weary gazes from the women worried her. Alexia sighed and climbed into the crawlspace. The hole in the wall was sealed with the dresser. Hot, muggy air hung in the small enclosure. Not a smidgen of light entered. She lay flat on blankets and pillows they’d been gathering for this purpose. Rations were kept in a tin at the far side. None of them had wanted to believe this day would come, but war was at the doorstep.

Hard boots pounded on stone. Then stillness. Door by door, the soldiers knocked. Systematically, they identified Jewish residents. Time passed in silence, then an occasional shot came followed by a dreadful cry. She covered her ears, not wanting to hear the terror. Deafening bangs accompanied stomping on the road.

Wound tight with the fear around her, she lay unable to sing or chase away the horrid feelings bombarding her. Her stomach churned. What wretched pain shocked the once lively city.

Heavy footsteps drew near.

Alexia sat up and brought her legs to her chest. Breathing became impossible. Sweat slid down her collarbone and her chest heaved. She covered her mouth with her hand and pressed to the wall to listen.

“The city is under curfew. What are you doing here?” a man said, his harsh pronunciation making him difficult to understand.

“We work here, sir,” Annette said with pride.

A loud smack sounded. Jill and Monique squealed. Three beautiful women without a male or family to protect them were left terribly vulnerable.

“Not anymore. The only work you’ll be doing is for me and my men.” Disgusting, depraved sensations of arousal moved through her from a number of males in the room. Five, if she had to guess, based on the energy and footsteps.

“I’d rather die.” Annette’s words were brazen, but inside a glimmer of hope remained that today would not claim her life.

A hard slam hit the wall. Annette cried out. Dust showered Alexia in the small space. She pinched her nose not to cough.

“That can be arranged after we’ve broken you.” He laughed.

Alexia buried her face between her knees. What terrible men.

“Where are the rest of the dancers?”

“Most of them left days ago out of fear of you.” Annette’s voice sounded forced. Distress radiated from her.

Arousal levels rose from the males. Her friends were so panicked Alexia felt their fear throbbing through her veins. Annette whimpered and pain ruptured from her.

“But not you, a willful salope.” Slut. He groaned low. “What a feast we’ll have tonight, men.”

“Any Jews among you?”

“Non.” Jill spoke up.

“Your papers?” Sheets rustled. Moments passed. “All of them French. Ralf, take those two back to the regiment, and I want this one in my room. And make sure she doesn’t escape.” Horror ripped through her like a wound. The man took such pleasure in the torment and abuse of others. “Board up the place.”

Steps against the wood floor shuffled away. Shoes dragged as the women struggled.

“Wait.” Hard stomps moved back in her direction. A deep inhalation of breath followed. “Who does this shawl belong to?”

“Alexia Pane.” Jill gasped between sniffles.

“And where is she now?” He rushed to where Jill’s voice came from.

“She took off this morning as the troops marched into the city.”

Excitement consumed the male. He shouted in German. The door slammed closed. Nails were driven into the wood of the front door, then the window. Soon they hammered at the rear.

Alexia curled up in the space. Anger and fear burned inside her for what she sensed these men would do to Jill, Annette and Monique. Tears streamed down her face.

* * * *

VanWolf tussled Sandra into his flat and slammed the front door closed. A gracious smile parted her lips. She lifted, then tossed off her dress. Her pretty ivory flesh shone in the beige lighting, contrasting against the gray paint of the wall.

“What news do you have for me, petite?” He caressed the tender nude skin of her shoulder with his lips. Humans were sensitive to the beast’s touch.

She moaned softly.

A plump mouth pressed to his ear. “Griselda and Cathen are sweeping behind the troops for anyone hiding.” An exasperated breath escaped her. “Jean is at the hospital. Serafin is making arrangements to move the cargo in four days. The others are at the chateau north of the city.”

Everyone seemed in place. Once they had the children gathered, they would move them to the drop point. He and Jean would stay in play as long as possible. Jean posed as a French doctor and provided fake death certificates for injured or tortured Jewish people. His pack smuggled them out with the dead, which were taken from the city to be burned. Those they rescued were moved to a safe house. The hospital could not handle the influx. Bodies had to be disposed of to avoid mass disease and to eliminate the smell of decay. Not to mention, this hid the true number of those murdered.

Sandra’s silky fingers stroked his length. The cover seemed to be moving beyond their usual line. Her breasts and hard buds pressed to his bare chest.

Working his mouth with her warm lips, she slipped her tongue inside and met his. He lifted her pelvis to his waist.

“You may.” She smiled, then looked down at his member.

No doubt she had great talents, given her line of work, but he had little hunger for such play. Besides, she smelled of another pack male, and he wasn’t erect. Alphas never played second fiddle. So little thrilled him, other than the work he and the pack did to help diminish the slaughter. They too had known what it was like to be hunted and exterminated.

“Jean would be hurt by your actions.” He stroked back her red hair.

“I don’t see why.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “He doesn’t seem to care about the others.”

He chuckled. Humans amused him at times. “I’m sure just the thought of you with other males makes him want to kill every last one of them. But he knows you’d only do what you need to not to raise suspicion. This would provoke a response from him.”

“Do you fear him?” Her bright brown eyes met his gaze.

“I respect each of my betas, like a human’s bond to a brother. Each is an extension of me. To betray them would be to dishonor myself.” Hence the turmoil inside over this female and Cathen. The dreams couldn’t possibly be correct.

“You must think I’m horrible.” Sandra hid her reddened cheek in his shoulder.

“A tad manipulative, but what woman isn’t? Mostly I believe you are confused about Jean’s intentions.” Why wouldn’t she be? These were strange times.

She nodded.

A knock came from the front door to his flat, next to them.

He pulled the handle and opened the door.

One of his men, Aldo, saluted him. “Heil Hitler.” He snapped his hand forward, arm extended.

“Heil Hitler,” VanWolf returned begrudgingly. The entire country seemed to have gone mad.

“General Straks wants to see you.” The lad’s gaze traveled from him to the naked woman, then shied away.

“I’ll get dressed and join you in a moment.” Guess he wasn’t getting the evening off after all. Not that he ever really did. Posing as a Nazi soldier meant he was always on guard.

He closed the door. “I will get Bright Eyes to escort you back to your flat.” Leaning into her, he whispered, “Talk things over with Jean or your actions may drive him away.” He shuffled into his Nazi uniform.

Sandra slipped her dress on. Too bad really. She had a voluptuous figure, perfect for the beast.

VanWolf reopened the door. Cool air from the evening washed over him as he buttoned his jacket.

The eager young man beamed at him.

“Escort her back, since it’s after curfew. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them they’ll have a very unhappy me to deal with.” He gestured, arm held out. “Sieg Heil.” Victory Hail.

The youth returned the address. What ignorant fools.