Page 61 of Her Viking Master

“Well, well,” Beaumont chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “It seems my little whore has been busy entertaining the staff as well.”

I felt my face burn with shame, but Jean didn’t move away. Instead, he turned slightly to face Beaumont, keeping me pinned against the wall.

“My apologies, Monsieur,” Jean said smoothly. “I was just reminding the girl of her place.”

Beaumont waved a hand dismissively. “No need to apologize, Jean. It’s good to see you taking initiative with our new acquisitions.” He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “However,” he added, his tone growing firmer, “I’m afraid this little redhead isn’t quite ready for the full attentions of the staff just yet.”

I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over me as Beaumont’s words sank in. The conflicting emotions made my head spin, and I had to remind myself that this was all part of the act, that I shouldn’t actually want Jean or anyone else to use me.

Beaumont’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he continued, “We’ll give her another week or so to settle in properly. Then, Jean, you and the other guards can have your fun with both our new acquisitions.”

My stomach churned at the casual way he spoke about giving me and Camille over to the guards, as if we were nothing more than party favors to be passed around. I lowered my gaze, trying to hide the mix of fear and unwanted arousal that I was sure showed on my face.

Jean nodded, his expression unreadable as he stepped back from me. “Of course, Monsieur. Whatever you think is best.”

Beaumont turned his attention to Jean, his tone becoming more businesslike. “Now, Jean, be a good man and have Georgy’s car brought around. Our esteemed guest needs to be on his way.”

“Right away, Monsieur,” Jean replied with a slight bow. He cast one last, inscrutable look my way before heading down the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor.

As Jean disappeared around the corner, Beaumont’s gaze settled on me. I could feel his eyes roaming over my naked body, still flushed and trembling from Jean’s touch. The weight of his stare made me want to cover myself, but I knew better than to move without permission.

“As for you, my little fire-haired slut,” Beaumont said, his voice dripping with false affection, “it’s time for you to return to your room.”

I nodded meekly, not daring to meet his eyes. “Yes, Monsieur,” I murmured.

But Beaumont wasn’t finished. He reached out, running a finger along my jawline, forcing me to look up at him. “Clean yourself up thoroughly,” he instructed. “I want you and your dark-haired friend ready for me tonight. I plan to enjoy you both properly.”

A shiver ran through me at his words. The thought of being used by Beaumont again, along with Camille, filled me with a confusing mix of dread and anticipation. I hated how my body seemed to betray me at every turn, responding to these men’s touch and words despite my mind’s protests.

On the other hand, if Camille and I were together in our master’s bed tonight, I would have the chance to tell her about Jean. We might even have the opportunity to plan a way to make sure the Guard took us together, when they came for me.

“Yes, Monsieur,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll be ready for you.”

CHAPTER31

Matthew

I felt the vibration of my secure phone against my thigh, pulling me from my analysis of the latest surveillance data. My heart rate quickened as I saw the urgent flag on the incoming message. It was from Gisard.

Quickly, I made my way through the smoothly hewn rock corridors of the Mithraeum to a secure communications room. The room was a windowless box, its walls lined with state-of-the-art encryption technology. As I sealed the heavy door behind me, I could almost feel the weight of centuries pressing down like the hundreds of feet of rock above, the subway, Fifth Avenue, all of Manhattan. This place had seen countless secret messages, whispered plots, and world-altering decisions.

I activated the holographic display, watching as Jean’s message materialized before me in glowing blue text. My eyes widened as I read:

Subject A must be extracted immediately. Crucial intel. Leopard’s plans more extensive than suspected. Pick up ASAP. Cannot elaborate further. Cover at risk.

My mind raced, processing the implications. Subject A—Mary O’Toole… the young American student Beaumont had recently acquired. For Jean to risk blowing his cover by sending this message, the information she held must be truly explosive.

I could picture Jean, slipping away from the chateau under some pretense, perhaps claiming a need to check the perimeter. In my mind’s eye, I saw him crouched behind a hedge, fingers flying over his concealed transmitter as he beamed this urgent plea to our Selecta satellite. The risk he was taking was enormous. If Beaumont’s security caught him…

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. We needed to move quickly. Every moment the girl remained in Beaumont’s clutches increased the chance that we would lose this vital intelligence.

But extracting her presented no simple task. Beaumont’s chateau was a fortress, bristling with cutting-edge security systems and staffed by highly trained guards. We’d need a team of our best operatives, equipped with the latest in stealth technology.

I began formulating a plan, my fingers dancing across the holographic interface as I pulled up schematics of the chateau and its grounds. We could insert a team via HALO jump, using our latest sound-dampening chutes. They’d land in the dense woods to the north of the property, then make their way to the chateau under cover of darkness.

As I worked, I couldn’t help but wonder what Mary had uncovered. What could be so important that Jean would risk everything to get her out? My mind whirled with possibilities, each more alarming than the last. Had Beaumont found a way to circumvent our control of the power grids? Was he planning some kind of attack on Selecta’s infrastructure?

I took another look at Mary’s profile, displayed in a corner of the holographic field. Her striking green eyes seemed to stare right through me, as if challenging me to uncover the secrets she held. I saw that in the few hours since I had last looked at the Beaumont surveillance file, our assessment AI had crunched the wealth of psycho-biometric information from Selecta’s database and flagged her as having very high potential, both as a submissive concubine and as an intelligence operative.

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