Free NoBounds by Ann Jacobs Page A

Gonna kill Dax. He tricked me.
Wanted Amber. Not me. Amber was my friend. Now gone. Now Cole’s slave. Wrong .
    Ciel raised the dagger she’d taken from the
equipment room, waved it at a couple of passersby.
    Yeah right. I’m crazy. Crazy, you got it .
    “What’s with you, lady?”
    “Moons. Three of them.”
    The taller of the two men laughed. “Yeah,
Obsidion’s got three moons. Weird when you first go out at night, until you get
used to it.”
    Ask him .
    “Jail. I want to find the jail.”
    “That way, lady. Take a right once you get
past Pierced Princes and you’ll see it at the end of the street. Convenient,
since half the Prince’s customers end up there at one time or another.”
    Almost there .
    Tucking her dagger into the belt of her
robe, she took off for the blinking Pierced Princes sign.
    “You could have managed a thank you, lady.”
    The man’s sarcasm was lost on the wind.
    Outside the jail, Ciel paused. Had to collect
herself. Couldn’t rouse suspicion. She paused and smoothed her hair. Couldn’t
look like a madwoman.
    She straightened the folds of the white
silk robe she’d snatched along with the dagger and schooled her expression into
one of sublime composure as she opened the jail door and stepped inside. “I
want to visit with Dax Petrone,” she said, making sure she sounded not like a
furious Domme but like a sweet, compliant little sub. Like Amber.
    * * * * *
    They’d lost precious minutes, but they’d
have ended up thrown in jail if they’d gone out into the street in the clothes
they’d worn for their BDSM scene. Cole and Amber paused outside No Bounds,
looked in both directions. A drunk stumbled out of one of the bars. A pair of
tourists embraced outside a sex toy shop, their faces made surreal by the light
of the neon signs.
    Not a sign of Ciel. Anywhere. Amber tugged
at Cole’s sleeve. “Would she have gone to one of the other clubs, Master?”
    “Not likely.”
    “Why don’t you ask those guys if they saw
her? They look as though they’re still reasonably sober.”
    Cole followed Amber’s gaze to the men
outside the toy store. “All right. Let’s do that.” Hurrying now, he dragged
Amber along, stopping to scoop her up and toss her over one shoulder when he
realized she couldn’t keep up his pace. “Sirs,” he yelled as the two men
started to amble toward the Leather Gallery.
    They paused at the sound of Cole’s voice.
One of them turned “Yeah?”
    “We’re looking for a woman—”
    “Did she have wild black hair? A white
dress? Was she actin’ crazy?”
    That sounded like Ciel, all right. “Where
did you see her?”
    “Right outside the new club. She wanted to
know where the jail is. When I told her, she took off in that direction like a
bat out of hell. Bitch didn’t even say ‘thanks’. Hey, don’t anybody around here
know how to say ‘thank you’?”
    “Sorry, man,” Cole yelled. “Got to
hurry—trying to prevent a murder.”
    A little winded after the three-block
sprint, Cole set Amber on her feet outside the jail door. “Wait here,” he
ordered, but as he swung the door open, a body came through it, almost like a
flying missile.
    “My God, what’s going on in there?”
    Cole tore his gaze from the living
missile—a guard from the look of his uniform—and looked at Amber. “I’m afraid
it’s Ciel.”
    He was more certain than ever that his
sister had taken something—probably more of the stimulants Ulrica had been
giving her to break her out of the coma. Ordinarily Ciel would have been no
match for a burly prison guard like the one he’d just seen flying out the door.
     
    “I’m going in there. She’ll listen to me.”
Amber stepped into the jail, certain Cole would stop her if she gave him half a
chance. She followed the sounds into a cell block whose door had been left
ajar.
    There was Ciel, standing over a bloody
body, her black hair in wild disarray. A madwoman who had once been Amber’s
best childhood friend.
    “All