The Archaeologist's Mistress by Jamie MacFrey

Author:Jamie MacFrey [MacFrey, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“M a’am? Ma’am? Are you okay?”

“Sare…” I gasped.

“What?”

“My name’s Sare,” I said.

“Are you okay, Sare?”

Was I? I wasn’t sure. I coughed a little, then spat up some water. I was soaking, I realized, or would have been if I had any clothes on. It felt like I’d taken a breath underwater. I looked over at the canal.

The New Angeles River was a sorry excuse for a river, at least, if you were going by the pictures of Earth rivers. But it was pretty deep, unlike its Earthling counterpart in Los Angeles. Deep enough that, if you dropped in a body, it would be awhile before anyone found it. I don’t know what they call that, but there should be a name for it. “Corpse hiding deep” I guess. I dunno, I’m a PI, not a writer.

“I saw them dump you in there,” said my new best friend. I looked up into the eyes of the autocab attendant who’d taken me to GJS headquarters earlier in the week. He really was soaked through, his formerly crisp uniform hugging him tightly, the white fabric practically see through.

He had a good shape to him. Good enough to pull a full grown woman out of a canal on his own, certainly. My body was beginning to react, although part of that was me hoping it was the adrenaline of Ivers having attempted to drown me. I gazed at where I could see the curves of his pecs, the nipples at the end. He said something and I glanced up.

“We’d better get you inside. I don’t know if they’re coming back.”

They wouldn’t be. Ivers had figured on me drowning in the river before anyone found me. A couple of cracked ribs, a facial bruise, none of that would matter in the grand scheme of things when the SPD was pulling my waterlogged corpse out of the river, so long as it looked like I just drowned. Easiest thing in the world, then. Dump me in and go. It was the reason I’d felt confident hailing the autocab in the instant the dampener had been in my hand. Turn off, send the hail, turn back on. Ivers hadn’t seen and neither had Gannard. They’d thought I was stupid and desperate. Well, they were wrong: I was just desperate.

The autocab attendant picked me up off the ground and for a moment I just hung to him. I wanted to kiss his cheek, to lick his jawline, to grab his shoulders and push him to his knees and have him just go to town on my pussy.

Desperate in more ways than one, it turned out: the ganinine was back with reinforcements. I tried to harden myself to my own body’s pleas for release, following the attendant into his autocab.

“Do you want me to take you anywhere in particular?” said the attendant, placing me on the seat in the back of the cab, then taking his chair behind the bar. “I could call the police.”

“Hospital,” I managed. I

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