Part 1 (1/2)

Demons are Forever.

by Kim Baldwin.

and Xenia Alexiou.

Acknowledgments.

The authors wish to thank all the talented women at Bold Strokes Books for making this book possible. Radclyffe, for her vision, faith in us, and example. Editor Sh.e.l.ley Thrasher, your insightful editing of this book is deeply appreciated. Jennifer Knight, for invaluable insights into how to craft a series. Graphic artist Sheri for another amazing cover. Connie Ward, BSB publicist and first-reader extraordinaire, and all of the other support staff who work behind the scenes to make each BSB book an exceptional read.

We'd also like to thank our dear friend and first-reader Jenny Harmon, for your invaluable feedback and insights. And finally, to the readers who encourage us by buying our books, showing up for personal appearances, and for taking the time to e-mail us. Thank you so much.

Xenia, with only two Elite Ops books left to write I'm already missing the joyous task of co-authoring your stories. Working with you on the series has been one of the most fun endeavors I've ever undertaken, and I'll long cherish the countless happy memories of writing, reading, and signing together.

For Marty, for forty plus years of friends.h.i.+p and so much more. Your encouragement started me on this path, and I'm forever grateful.

Mom and Dad, I miss you both so much and know you're watching out for me. And for my brother Tom, for always saying yes when I need a ride to the airport.

I also have to thank a wonderful bunch of friends who provide unwavering support for all my endeavors. Claudia and Esther, Pattie, Linda, Kat, Felicity. You are family, and near or far, I hold you always close to my heart.

Kim Baldwin, February 2012.

My eternal grat.i.tude and respect to my invaluable friend Kim.

Thank you for pointing me in this direction and for being there every step of the way. I am always there for you, no matter what...and so what if the series has two books left. I've got more stories in me and I want my wingman there.

Mom, Dad, and Sis. You are my biggest support and comfort.

Thank you for everything.

May, you have made my world a richer place to write in and about.

And as always a very big thank you to my wonderfully supportive friends. Claudia, Esther, Nicki, Dennis, Steven, Georgia, thank you for putting up with my dark moods and for your constant encouragement.

Last but never least, a big bow of appreciation to all the readers who enjoy the stories and make writing one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. YOU ALL ROCK.

Xenia Alexiou, February 2012.

Dedication.

To May.

It took me more than two decades to realize the one who could love me unconditionally, give herself to me completely, and confront my demons fearlessly was the shy sixteen-year-old girl I once ran from.

I'm eternally grateful you never gave up on me.

I gave you my first kiss and I will give you my last.

I love you.

Xenia.

Demons are Forever.

Prologue.

Near Teaneck, New Jersey.

October 28.

”You're hurting me!” Gigi struggled against the tight grip on her arms and fought to find her footing, but the two men flanking her dragged her up the stairs like her mother used to when she had to see the dentist.

The two johns had picked her up on a Manhattan street corner, but instead of taking her to a hotel, they'd brought her to a house in New Jersey without any furnis.h.i.+ngs. The half-hour journey itself was odd, too. Neither of the men said much or wanted to get down to business with her in the dark sedan.

”I'm a pro, I know the deal,” she told the men as they pulled her along. ”You don't have to f.u.c.king force me.” She heard the tones of someone punching numbers into a cell phone.

”Put me through to Dario,” a man behind her said. ”I can deliver your order in forty minutes.”

”What order?” Gigi craned to see him. A bald, buff, middle-aged man-looked like Mr. Clean. ”Where's the other girl?” When they'd arrived at the house, she hadn't noticed him among the several men present, many also in business suits. Another working girl was there, too, an unfamiliar blonde. They'd had some drinks, but the party had barely started when the two guys who'd picked her up grabbed her and hauled her upstairs.

* 13 *

The bald guy ignored her and continued his conversation.

”Yo, Mr. Clean! I asked you something,” she yelled.

The man paused and turned his attention on her for the first time. She couldn't remember ever having seen a look like that but was sure she'd never forget it. His dark eyes looked as empty as those of a dead fish. She'd been in scary, uncertain situations before; it was part of the job, especially when she was after a fast buck and the johns were dubious at best. But she'd never felt so terrified and helpless. G.o.d, were they going to kill her? She'd heard plenty of stories about working girls disappearing or found dead, but those tragedies happened to others, not her. Had she been too arrogant?

Was this a warning to change her life? Would she get that chance now? ”I want to go home. Where are you taking me?” She clawed at the walls as they dragged her down a long hallway with closed doors on either side. ”Where's the other girl?” she asked again.

None of them responded. Being ignored scared her almost as much as the lifeless eyes of the man behind her.

They reached a door at the end of the corridor and the man on her left opened it. Without a word, they threw her forward, and she slid over the parquet like a bowling ball, hitting her head on the wall. ”Please, let me go,” she said as she got to her knees and whirled toward them. But the door was already closing. Gigi ran to it and tried the k.n.o.b. Locked. ”Let me out, you a.s.sholes!” She pounded on the thick wood with her fists, but their steps already sounded faint.

When she was sure they wouldn't return immediately, she studied her small, empty prison. The walls looked newly painted but didn't smell like it. Windows along one wall drew her and she tried to open one. ”G.o.dd.a.m.n it,” she yelled when a fake nail broke off. She couldn't force any of them open. Not that it would have helped. She was on the second floor, too far up to drop without breaking something or killing herself. And the place was isolated- the nearest sign of civilization was too far away for anyone to hear her scream. She could see only a distant light, illuminating a rooftop that might be a house and, beyond that, a cell tower. The rest was * 14 *

dark woods, save for an abandoned swing set and kiddie pool below her window.

She had only one possible way to get out of there safely.