“I never abandon myself to anything.”

That was the warning he had given her the first time that they made love and for almost a year now he had kept that promise. Yet she had abandoned herself to him almost from the moment they met. For two years she had loved him in silence; had longed for him from afar. She had been his ally, his associate, and at times, she flattered herself, they had almost been friends. But he had never seen her true feelings. She had taken great pains to hide them; afraid she would lose him forever if he were to find out.

It had been by mistake that they had come together. He had been handling his brother Diogenes’ estate. Allotting the last of it to various causes. After his brother had died at his hands, Aloysius Pendergast had sworn he would have nothing to do with the...   read more »

Pendergast’s POV


He was sitting in the back of an ambulance when I arrived, covered in blood and for his sake I hoped some of it was his own. An EMT was holding a stethoscope to his chest and checking his blood pressure. He sat there patiently, staring off into space, his dark sunglasses perched on top his curly black hair. He hadn’t noticed me yet and I took the opportunity to just watch him.

At the beginning of the day, I was sure Halo Spencer’s shirt had been white but now, as it was nearing 6pm, his shirt had turned crimson in places and pinkish in others with the blood that covered him. His faded jeans and Converse sneakers were blood stained as well, nearly caked in the...   read more »

Somewhere on the small, rock-strewn island of Capraria, in a small cottage by the sea, the blazing colors of the setting sun painted a series of shifting, weaving patterns on the white stuccoed walls of the bedroom in which reclined a heavy-lidded Aloysius Pendergast. The fragrance of a lightly-scented lotus blossom perfume mixed maddeningly with the heavier scents of the sea outside carried in through the open French doors by way of a cooling breeze that found its way into the ordinarily stifling room.

Aloysius lay naked on the bed. His now lightly sun-kissed body was noticeably leaner from his recent prison sojourn but still heavily muscled and fit for any kind of action. The pale blonde hair on his chest moved rhythmically with his breathing; he lay with hands lighlty folded across his taut belly one leg slightly raised at the knee.

Thoughts of former loves whirled slowly through his mind:...   read more »

He stared down at his bed and smiled, brushing the fingertips of one hand over his lips. His brother lay on his stomach, nude and pale against the dark backdrop of his bedsheets, and looked up at him demurely through his eyelashes. Diogenes laughed shrilly and then sighed. “What a surprise.”

A flush rose on Aloysius’ face, but he said nothing. Diogenes stepped forward, loosening his tie and stripping off the suit jacket he’d worn to school. “Home for the weekend? Do Mother and Father know you’re here?”

“Yes,” Aloysius said softly as Diogenes knelt and used his necktie to bind his brother’s wrists in an intricate knot.

“You like to take risks, don’t you? Big brother?” He held his brother’s chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to make eye contact. Aloysius said nothing, and Diogenes leaned forward to for a brief, light kiss before standing again. “Won’t this be fun?”...   read more »

“What I would like, Wish, is to tie you down to the bed and hold a contest with you.”

He looked at her, the candles on the table catching the momentary glitter in his pale eyes. “And what kind of contest would that be if I am tied down to the bed, Agent Cady? I imagine that would put me at quite a disadvantage.”

She grinned at him, fork poised in mid-air. “But that’s the beauty of it. This has nothing to do with strength or physical prowess. It has everything to do with self-discipline and control.”

He dabbed his lips with the dark blue linen napkin. “Self-discipline and control? That would be out of my hands, so to speak, in such a position.”

“Not at all. It’s a game I read about that French working girls would play with their clientele.”

His lips twitched momentarily. “Do warn me, Agent Cady, if you are...   read more »

-October 15, 2006-


Heavy velvet drapes covered the windows, blocking the hazy autumn sky of the New York skyline. The forest green lounge seat covered in files and paperwork was empty. A soft indention in the only section free of paper disclosed of a recent occupant. The missing occupant stood in front of the fireplace, with his hands spread delicately across ornate mantle moldings.

Pale milky blonde hair perfectly combed back from his face, only slightly showed the signs of a restless man in need of sleep. Pale blue marred the delicate skin around his eyes. The jacket normally closed at the waist was unbuttoned, hanging around his trim frame like limp wings. His expression betrayed no emotion but pain revealed itself in the depth of his gazing eyes.

Aloysius quietly let out a sigh as he looked into the depth of flickering orange flames. The past few days had felt like...   read more »

“You have the most enchanting eyes, my lovely little pet...” Diogenes Pendergast’s voice trailed off, straining to see the color in her wide eyes. His hand was entangled with hers, running his long fingers over the thick rings on her hand. She could see the want in his eyes, and she felt the electricity rolling off him in waves. The air was still, as it is before a lightning storm, and with one look, she reassured his heavy heart.

When he looked away, she cast her eyes downward upon the table. Her filet was half-eaten, it was too rare for her tastes, but she had sat through the meal as Diogenes ate every morsel of juicy steak. The wine washed down her throat in slow, fermented trickles.

He pulled her hand close now, speaking to her, but delighting in the expensive manicure he had bought for her. To her, it was the...   read more »

Vincent D’Agosta took another sip of his Bud and let his eyes wonder around the bar he’d ducked into on his way home. It was a cop hangout, decorated primarily with bullet-riddled silhouettes from various firing ranges. He wondered why they didn’t just hang bloody corpses on the walls. The bar also boasted framed (and only complimentary) NYPD headlines from the Times and the Post, some with pictures of bloody corpses. There were also photos of the city’s top cops, past and present, a motley collection of mostly balding, paunchy clones whose faces all seemed to resemble the one D’Agosta shaved every morning. He saw several uniformed cops and several more detectives, and a few women who may have been police groupies. The women sat in pairs, sipping drinks and eyeing the men in uniform like starving cannibals.

One particularly striking woman sat alone, two empty booths from his, sipping...   read more »