The Council of Ten Read Online Free Page A

feeling the floor when she struck it.

Chapter 3
    SABRINA COULDN’T REALLY remember when she had first considered killing the courier. It probably went all the way back to the first time she had noticed him undressing her with his eyes while hers were locked just as seductively on the briefcase gripped in his right hand. She thought of the stacks of crisp bills hidden inside. She was just a courier as well, passing on nothing but an envelope containing his drop point instructions. The pay was fine, but nothing compared to the contents of the briefcase during a single run. Kill him and it was hers.
    She had killed before. The first time had been ten years ago, when she was barely halfway through her teens. Her victim had purchased her from a white slavery ring when she was twelve and brought her to America to make money for him. Sabrina hadn’t found it hard to live with that. What was impossible to live with was his own vile body being forced on her every night, big and smelly. He would thrust himself into her until she ached, sometimes bled, and one night Sabrina jabbed a steak knife into his belly just when he was ready to come. His blood drenched her and his foul-smelling frame pinned her to the bed as he wretched and spasmed. By the time Sabrina pulled herself free, he was dead.
    There had been others since, always set up over a long period of time and always judiciously. Men were weak creatures, her huge breasts and sultry features a greater weapon than even the Ring. She’d had a jeweler fashion it for her personally—a knuckle-size imitation emerald tapered into razor sharpness along its raised center. A simple swipe across the throat was all it took. Sabrina would look at the eyes then: always the same, bulging first with confusion followed swiftly by terror. It was her favorite moment, even better than the instant with the swipe of the Ring itself.
    Tonight, though, the best moment of all would come when she opened the briefcase.
    The bell rang at the front door of her Sansucci Boulevard home in North Miami. Right on time. Sabrina excitedly threw the door open without checking the peephole, saw the briefcase first.
    Then the stranger who was holding it.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized.
    “You’re not the usual …”
    “A change. I have the proper papers.”
    Sabrina fought down her disappointment and eyed the man. Much younger than the other courier and big. She could feel him looking at her as well. The hope in her rekindled just as quickly as it had been snuffed out. She had planned this night for too long to pull back now. The man’s youth would work to her advantage, her beauty the means that would free her to use the Ring against him.
    “Come in,” she told the courier.
    He stepped forward clutching the briefcase with rigid unease. She closed the door behind him.
    “I need my instructions,” he told her, eyes running all over her frame.
    “Upstairs,” came her practiced response. “It’s the way this is always done,” she added softly as she slid against him on her way to the circular stairwell. “This way,” she beckoned.
    Sabrina waited until they were near the bedroom on the second floor before draping her arms around the man’s back. His muscles arched and she could feel his power, certain now of his strength and aware she would have to choose the perfect moment to strike with the Ring. She eased him toward the bed. The briefcase fell to the rug.
    He was over her instantly, fighting with her zipper. She worked his pants free, feeling him harden in her hands as she stroked him, matching his moans with her own.
    The man had gotten her tight black jeans past her hips and was hovering into position. Just like the first victim had done all those years ago… . Sabrina drew the courier close and nibbled at his ear. Only after he entered her did she pull the hand wearing the Ring away to prepare her swipe. She maneuvered so she was over him, taking the lead, joining the