Colin rubbed his scalp roughly before going back inside his room. He began setting up his easel, his eyes scanning the room at intervals, searching for cameras. There were none he could see on the high ceilings, but the room held many places where cameras could hide. He didn’t want to be obvious, so when his items were put away he crossed his arms and pretended to give a shite about the art around the room. An Asian vase. A painting of sailboats that was missing so much proper shading he could hardly look at the damn thing.
In the base of an ornate lamp he saw a minuscule hole. There was one camera. He didn’t doubt there were more. A minted man like Marco wasn’t about to let anyone have absolute free reign and privacy under his roof.
A knock sounded on the door and Colin opened it. A thin, older man bustled in without invitation, carrying a small kit.
What the hell?
The man set everything on the oversized dark dresser and turned to Colin, bowing his head. “Hola, Se?or Douglas. You speak Spanish?”
“Ah, only peque?o.”
The man nodded. “Lo siento. My English no es very good. Se?or Ruiz send me to all new patrons to make blood.”
Shock rippled through Colin and he narrowed his dark eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“We have clean establishment. No disease. No worry, yes?”
Colin glared at the needles and vials. After a moment of thought he wondered what it would hurt to let them have a small sample. He’d shed more blood than that for less important missions.
“Fine,” he said.
After the blood draw, the doctor man bustled out as quickly as he’d come in. And then there was another knock at the door. This one softer.
For fuck’s sake.
He opened it and found a wee petite Asian girl in a bikini with tits that didn’t quite fit her body. She wore a collar around her neck. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, and then she seemed to catch herself and look down.
“Hola, Se?or. You are invited to the pool area for cocktails if you so wish.”
“Thank you,” he said. For an awkward moment he wondered if he was supposed to do something—how he was supposed to act toward her, but he made no move.
The girl’s eyes skipped up his frame one last, quick time, then she turned in her platform heels and walked away, swaying her thin hips. The entire sight was so strange he couldn’t be aroused by it. Was she a slave? She didn’t fit his image of a slave. Graham’s deadened eyes came to mind. His drugged, dirty state. Colin’s hands fisted in revulsion.
But this place wasn’t like that, was it? They took people’s fucking blood for God’s sake, and he was sure that if any diseased bastard came through those doors he wasn’t getting any arse.
Colin decided he’d take Se?or Ruiz up on his offer to make himself at home. He left his room to explore, and hopefully catch sight of Angela.
Armed men stood in every entrance and exit of the vast home. He met their stares with nods as he passed. Most of the rooms were empty until he came to an outdoor veranda where voices carried on the breeze. People were outside. He took one step out of the grand arched doorway and swiped his eyes across the scene, taking in every detail. All the exposed skin.
Ah, shite. He probably shouldn’t have come out here, but he’d look like a pansy if he turned and left now.
Live music played next to a bar area. Two men with guitars harmonized a quick rhythm of Latin roots. Distant sounds of crashing waves drifted up from below.
The pool was surrounded by tropical flowers and a rock wall that spilled a waterfall into the depths. The end of the pool came up to the cliff’s edge and seemed to drop right off. Surrounding the pool were lounging chairs and umbrellas. Half dressed women delivered drinks to paunchy men in speedos, sprawled out in comfort. Colin’s heart spiked when he spotted a blonde head kneeling next to one of the men, rubbing oil on his legs. But her face was too round, and her eyes an icy blue instead of brown—she appeared of European decent.
Colin saw the pretty Asian girl who came to his room sitting on a bald man’s lap and running a finger down his hairy chest. In the hot tub was an older couple with a younger man who wore a collar like the Asian girl. This must be the male slave Marco had mentioned. The older man watched as the slave kissed the woman, his hands and their bodies moving under the water. Colin couldn’t imagine sharing one’s wife and watching. Fuck, he couldn’t even imagine having a wife.