Administrative Control

Chapter One

Seattle

Jeneathea Isis Nevania Xenia, or Jinx as she was better known, sat at her vintage secretary desk, her attention on the stack of files and pictures before her. The soft glow from the fire burning in her office fireplace illuminated the area, giving it an easygoing, warm feel. Her office was her sanctuary. Very few people were permitted entrance to it. She had another office for meetings, one sparse in furnishings but still higher end. For too many years Jinx had been forced to have all aspects of her life appear to be an open book. When she’d been the property of a madman she’d been forced to be an exhibit on some days and on others his own personal whipping post.

Those times were long gone and she would never permit them to return. No. She was her own woman now. In charge of her life. She belonged to no one. Her business and her body were hers to do with as she saw fit.

Don’t dwell on what can’t be undone, she thought, upset that she’d allowed herself to even start down that dark path once more.

The file before her made her insides twist into a knot. She’d considered burning the materials, but had resisted. The sheer volume was shocking, not to mention what it was all for.

Something she had no business in.

This isn’t your battle, she reminded herself. Yet, she’d permitted herself to be dragged into it.

With a slow breath, she continued to stare down at the information before her. While it might not be her fight, it was her burden now. And if history had taught her anything, it was that when good people stood by and did nothing to right a wrong, the wrong often grew exponentially.

This wrong was big enough as was. It didn’t need to grow out of control anymore than it had.

Not that it even could.

She was in over her head and she knew it. A pit formed in the bottom of her stomach as she leafed through the pages and photos. They had come by her from a source she trusted—one who would never invent tall tales or try to gain attention in any way. It wasn’t information she’d normally find herself in possession of, but things were changing in the paranormal underground.

Honestly, things had been off for some time now. New threats were emerging daily. Enemies who once were unable to be in the same room were now forging alliances, combining resources and causing even more problems for those trying to keep things in order.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

A truer proverb did not exist for what was happening in the paranormal underground. The good guys were losing footing, and fast. If it kept up, they’d lose the war. And with the information in front of her, they had enough internal bullshit to implode, saving their enemies the time and effort of trying to eliminate them.

The Immortal Ops (I-Ops) and the Paranormal Security and Intelligence (PSI) agencies were two of the organizations that tried to maintain order and balance in an otherwise lawless supernatural area. They’d been fighting an uphill battle since their inception. A fair number of PSI operatives utilized the services her establishment provided.

Neither the I-Ops nor their commanding officer, Colonel Asher Brooks had used her establishment’s services. Though she’d wished more than once over the years that Asher had been a client. She couldn’t blame anyone who sought out the services provided by her people. Being immortal could be quite lonely if you’d not found your mate—and very few were lucky enough to cross paths with their one perfect match. A shifter alpha male left unfulfilled and on the loose could easily result in bloodshed if he didn’t keep the edge off his sexual requirements.

She’d seen the aftermath of such “restraint” before. The memory would be with her until her dying day. One didn’t forget carnage such as that.

The worst part had been when the shifter had come down from the crazed state to realize what he’d done. He’d never been the same. Prior to the event he’d been a man who had dedicated his life to fighting evil. For several hours that fateful night he’d been the ultimate evil.

Jinx sighed. So much pain, and more to come with the news she had to break.

A knock sounded from her doorway. She knew without looking who was there. “Come in.”

Aneta, one of her trusted friends and one of the girls who worked for her, entered. Their relationship had never been one of employer and employee. It had always been more like family.

Aneta’s damp, long, dark brown hair hung over one caramel-colored shoulder. The woman wore only the sheerest of nightgowns as she walked barefoot across Jinx’s office. She stilled a few feet shy of Jinx. “Have you looked it all over?”

“There is so much of it,” replied Jinx, sounding as tired as she felt.

She touched one of the file folders, her thoughts going to the I-Ops and PSI once more. Jinx felt a little bad for them. For each victory they achieved, there were hundreds more nutjobs out there hell-bent on world domination and human annihilation. That was always the way of it, since the dawn of time.

She knew.

She’d been around to see more than her fair share of them. A high number of said nutjobs even crossed the threshold of her establishments over the centuries, seeking the comforts her people provided. Funny how her kind was sought after in some respects and shunned in others. Over her lifetime she and her people held many names.

Too many to count.

They’d been labeled everything from harlots to whores. It didn’t matter what brand was placed upon them, what they did never changed.

They gave others pleasure.

They fulfilled sexual fantasies.

They were supernaturals who required sex and sexual energy to live. Most had succubus or incubus blood in them. Some had Fae and others pixie. And others were hodgepodges of various lines of supernaturals who also needed sexual stimulation. All were willing participants and were screened before joining her team. They had to be mentally prepared for what the life would bring as well as physically ready. It would do no good if clients went home unhappy and unfulfilled.

“Thank you for gathering this,” Jinx said. “When he asked for our help, I didn’t know it would open this can of worms.”

Aneta offered a soft smile. “We did it because he asked, Jinx.”

When Jinx had received a call from Asher, asking if she could keep her ear to the ground on any information regarding a second I-Ops team, she had thought it would be easy enough. That nothing much would cross their paths at her club, but that she would do as he asked because it was Asher and she owed him. Long ago he’d done something she knew he regretted but in the end he’d helped her get away, start anew and turn her life around. He made her independent.

When she’d said yes to helping him, she’d had no idea what they would uncover.

“He trusted you enough to ask you to do this,” said Aneta. “And you know as well as I do that no matter what he asked, you’d make sure it was done.”

Jinx blushed. She would. Asher had that sort of sway over her, though she’d never been sure why.

Aneta had been with Jinx so long that Jinx was hard pressed to remember the exact number of years. They’d been through much together. A bond of complete trust lay between them.

Aneta had gathered so much information that it was actually difficult to take it all in. This new material was a game changer. And Jinx wasn’t sure it was going to change anything for the best or not. She doubted it would help anything whatsoever.

Only time would tell.

Jinx just knew this intel was something others would kill for and kill to keep from coming out. She’d been around powerful people all her life and knew the lengths they’d go to in order to remain in control of their authority.

While her scars were no longer visible on the outside, she bore plenty within. They told the tale of what those who were corrupt would do to those they thought a threat or weaker than them—to those they assumed they could own and command.

It was also why she’d always leaned towards helping those who helped others.

Good guys.

Though they were few and far between.

It was dangerous to possess the material, but that didn’t scare her enough to shred it. Aneta had put herself on the line to gather it and Jinx would make damn sure it found its way to the right hands.

Aneta knew of Jinx’s past. Of the horrors she’d endured at the hands of Fabianus—a sick bastard who had his height of glory during the Roman Empire. Colonel Asher Brooks had played a hand in her coming to belong to Fabianus and in her ultimate release from his clutches. She suspected he had a lot to do with Fabianus’s downfall as well, though he’d never said as much. In truth, after the Fabianus incident Asher had said very little to her for nearly one hundred years. That had long since passed, thankfully.

When Aneta learned Asher was in need of information, she’d artfully managed to get her client to spill the beans and provide her access to the intel Jinx now had.

Jinx picked up her phone and considered dialing a man she knew would drop everything and come. She knew when he’d asked for help that he’d been simply fishing for possible leads. This wouldn’t be what he expected either.

He was a good man. A man who liked to stay hidden from others. A man who controlled an awful lot in the supernatural community, but who managed to keep most from knowing who he was.

One of the men behind the curtains.

She dialed and waited with bated breath for the line to connect. Each ring tightened her chest more and more. She was about to hang up when a deep voice on the other end came through.

“Jinx,” he said, the timbre of his voice moving her, the tiniest hints of an accent showing. It was barely there, but Jinx knew the man’s history so she knew to listen for it. She possessed a similar accent that she too had worked hard to cover over the centuries.

“Brooks,” she returned.

He gave a ragged sighed. “Asher. Call me Asher. I’ve told you that already at least a hundred times.”

She smiled against the phone. He had always insisted she call him by his first name, something she knew others weren’t permitted to do. “I have intel on what you asked me to keep an ear open for.”

He was quiet. “That was fast.”

She nodded. “My people have a way of gathering information that others don’t.”

He laughed softly. “I’d say so.”

“Asher, this isn’t anything you’ll want me to send to you. I think you should be given this in person.”

“Shit. Its that bad?”

“Yes,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice deep and entirely too masculine and sexy.

Jinx wasn’t all right, so there was no use lying to him. She’d upset Helmuth by helping the Ops teams, and word had reached her that soon enough Helmuth would retaliate. “I don’t think it’s wise I come there. Not with everything that has been going on out here. I need to stay in Seattle, close to my people right now. How soon can you come?”

“I can be there within the hour,” he returned.

Confused, she cocked her head to one side. “Asher, the flight here from Virginia is longer than that. I realize you have a great deal of pull and I know what you’re capable of, but even you need more time than an hour to reach me.”

“I’m in Seattle,” he replied, surprising her. “I’m down at the pier near the warehouse.”

She knew exactly where he spoke of, as only days prior it had been the site of one of Helmuth’s many underground fight clubs. Though this one had ended in more bloodshed than anyone had ever thought possible. She’d heard about the mess down there and knew full well the I-Ops and PSI hadn’t caused it all. “Be careful down there, Asher. Helmuth is up to something.”

“I’ll be fine,” he returned. That was his way. Overconfident. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m good,” she managed, but it was shaky at best. Lying to him was something she couldn’t ever seem to do with ease. If her informant was right, Helmuth’s men would pay her a visit before the night was out. It was for the best if Asher wasn’t around. The last time he had helped her out of a bad situation there had been a lot of dead bodies, an inquiry, several years on the run and he’d not spoken to her for nearly a century following. That was some thousands years plus ago. Still, she doubted the man had changed much from old. If she could head off the problems with Helmuth on her own, that would be for the best. “I just need to talk to you. Take your time there. How about we meet tomorrow? Will you still be in town then?”

“I will,” he said softly. “But I could come tonight.”

“No,” she said, a little faster than she should. “Not tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

She needed to get the remainder of her people out of the club for the rest of the night. She’d already sent away her male employees, including her private security staff, and most of her female employees—though some had refused to leave, as if they too knew what was coming and didn’t want her facing it alone.

The minute she hung up the phone, her office door burst open. A scream ripped free from her as men poured in, some dragging her girls along with them, each looking like they were there to cause problems.

Right away she recognized Jasper, one of Helmuth’s men, and unease settled over her. Jasper was far from stable and she knew of Helmuth’s issues in the past with controlling the man.

She eyed the phone, wondering if she’d done the right thing in keeping Asher away. He didn’t need to get mixed up in this mess she’d gotten herself into any more than he already was. Drawing him into this wasn’t going to make that right. It would only make it worse.

It was better this way.

At least that was what she tried to tell herself as Jasper seized hold of her and pulled her from her office, down the hall and into the main club area.

“Bitch, you’ve been a bad, bad girl,” he hissed.