Alpha Eyes Ch 03

I had to think quickly.

Stephanie blinked, her eyes still glazed and blank. My stepsister's mind was still absolutely shattered from three, massive orgasms. "Dilan...?" she murmured blearily. "What...?"

I shook my head, eyes scanning the bedroom around us. Clothes scattered this way and that, no time to get dressed before Laura came down the hall and saw us both. I panicked, my newly-enhanced vision picking up on each and every detail that was out of place.

There's no way she doesn't see us.

"Stephanie?!" My stepmother's voice grew more impatient, and I heard her high-heeled feet stalking closer across the hardwood floor of the entry.

My mind twitched, filtering through idea after idea. There was only one thing to do...

I closed my eyes.

Call to your mom,

I ordered silently, and I felt the tiny sliver of Stephanie's consciousness ripple as I pushed the suggestion into her mind.

"Hey, Mom!"

My stepsister suddenly snapped upright, her eyes wide and her body carrying out my instructions. It was actually kind of hot, seeing her gorgeous, naked figure, her big tits and her athletic physique, carrying out my commands like a mindless puppet.

Tell her you were just checking in here for me, but you think you heard the elevator open and close a couple minutes ago.

"I was just checking in Dilan's room. The little fucker wasn't at the therapist's office when I arrived to pick him up!" She managed to sound as indignant and uptight as her usual, bitchy self, all while staring into my silver eyes with her big blue ones and slowly stroking one finger down the center of her collarbone.

Ohmygod you're hot...

My stepsister smirked in response. Her mind was starting to awaken again. But it was different now...

Now it belonged to me.

"Steph?" Laura's voice grew closer. "I'm sorry to put you to the inconvenience, honey. I was just calling his therapist as well. He left by himself in an Uber, apparently the session was...

particularly

stressful."

I felt my jaw clench in a frown.

So this is how they talk about me when I'm "not here"...

My stepmother's voice, rather than full of concern for my wellbeing, sounded snide and haughty, like she couldn't believe the nerve I had to possess feelings.

I pressed my back to the wall by the closed door, completely naked, hoping against hope that my stepmother wouldn't have enough desire to come down here after us.

Stephanie smoothly rose from the bed, slowly walking toward me. "I heard the elevator open and close just a minute ago, though!" she called. Her hand slid sideways to cup one of her tits, and she squeezed. Her eyelashes fluttered as her lips parted in a soft gasp. "I thought it was you, but it wasn't!"

The sound of heels grew closer. "And he didn't even go to his room? You didn't see him?" My stepmother sounded confused, though I was grateful that I didn't pick up a note of suspicion.

Why should she suspect Stephanie?

I asked silently.

As far as Laura knows, her daughter hates me as much as she does.

Stephanie improvised before I could feed her her next lines, understanding what I was trying to accomplish. "No!" she called. "I think he came in and then left again. Are any of the car keys gone?"

My frown turned from one of anger at my stepmother to confusion at Stephanie's question, then my face opened up into a look of understanding as my stepsister held up the keys to the Tesla. For the first time I was grateful that my gorgeous, spiteful stepsister loved to drive my dad's old car. It was technically mine, but since I never drove it Stephanie had started taking it out whenever she felt the urge.

"You know he doesn't drive, sweetie..." But Laura's voice was uncertain. I could hear her come to a halt at the end of the hallway, considering.

Stephanie seemed confused, not sure how to tie the lie together. And then I had a flash of inspiration. I communicated, quickly and silently.

My stepsister laughed, then, throwing back her head so that her elaborate blonde braids fell down her back. She laughed loud enough for her mother to hear, and it was a spiteful, mean laugh. "That loser!" she called. "I swear I've seen him go down sometimes just to sit in the car when he thinks no one is around. I'll bet he just fucking cries or something, whining about how bad his life sucks."

I winced.

A little overenthusiastic, maybe...

But then I heard a matching chuckle drift down the hallway. "You're right," Laura said. I could hear her foot tapping thoughtfully on the floor. "That

is

just the sort of thing Dilan would do." Another pause. "I'm going to go check, alright honey? ... Just to make sure he isn't dead of depression before I get what I need from him..." This last was delivered in a lower tone, and I'm not sure how I picked it up, but my ears twitched and I felt like the words carried clearly down the hall, though they were pitched in the tone of a low mutter.

Weird...

I thought. It was as if, like my eyes, my ears were suddenly growing sharper.

I heard my stepmom strut back across the entry to the elevator, heard the click of the button under her fingertip as she summoned it. There was the low, low scraping noise of the elevator car sliding to a halt outside, and then the

ding

of the doors sliding open.

By the time she was inside with the doors closed, Stephanie had crossed to me and had thrown her arms around my neck. Her lips were on mine enthusiastically in a series of searing kisses.

"Oh... my

gawd!"

she enthused. I didn't remember her sounding quite so airheaded before, and wondered if it was a side effect of my new control. Maybe it was something I should be slightly worried about, but I couldn't bring myself to be concerned. My cock was thickening again against her smooth thighs, and she was panting, rubbing herself against me like she knew how much she turned me on. "You're

sooo

fucking hot, Dilan." she said.

"Master..."

she corrected, eyes flashing as she stared into mine with a smoky gaze.

"Wow..."

My cock twitched as her fingers wrapped around my shaft and began to slowly pump up and down.

"I love how you just take control..." she murmured. "How you know

exactly

what to do..."

I swallowed, the heat that flushed through my body almost impossible to resist. But I had to. "Sorry, sis," I muttered, stepping back and placing my hands on her shoulders. "I've gotta be gone before your mom gets back."

I sidestepped the buxom blonde, my cock swaying and throbbing needily.

Shut up,

I told it.

You've already had twice as much sex in the past few hours than in the six months before that.

But my thick, pulsating rod didn't give a damn.

With a groan, I struggled into a pair of boxer briefs and jeans, hoping the tight fabric would force my erection back down. It worked...

Sort of.

When I turned back around I saw Stephanie standing in front of my full-length mirror. Her phone was in her hand and she was leaning forward, her tits swaying beneath her, with one finger slipped between her full lips.

She snapped a photo.

"What's that?" I demanded.

My own phone chimed a second later.

My beautiful stepsister blinked innocently at me. "I'm not sure, Master..." she giggled. "I guess someone's just a little worried you'll forget about her after you're gone..."

I blinked.

I really did a number on her,

I thought. And then,

Not like I'm complaining...

I eyed my stepsister up and down. Her eyes met mine, but there was no more danger for her in my stare. I had her in my power, now, wherever I was, and my eyes no longer cast an immediate spell over her.

"Get dressed," I ordered. I snatched up the pair of panties that lay crumpled on the mattress and tossed them her way. "And you're not allowed to tell your mother anything, understand?"

I tugged a shirt over my head, then glanced back Stephanie's way in time to see her take the lacy pink panties and tear them cleanly in half. My eyebrows came together, confused, and then her bright blue eyes met mine. They were on fire with lustful desire, and I wondered, for a brief moment, what I'd done to her.

"Why should I need panties, Master?" she asked softly. She slowly sashayed toward me, then brushed past with one hand trailing across the front of my pants.

The bulge returned to the front of my slacks.

I gulped, then shook my head and left.

I had things to do.

I snatched up a pair of sunglasses on my way out, sliding them over my eyes and hoping they would be enough to prevent my new ability from accidentally hypnotizing random passersby. I let the elevator carry me down a floor, then felt it hover, change tracks, and continue downwards.

There were four elevators servicing the building, but only one elevator shaft that went up to the penthouse. Don't ask me why. My dad had designed it that way in one of his flights of fancy.

Besides, there were real questions that needed answers.

What was this strange drug that had burned the color from my eyes and, I was beginning to suspect, opened up new pathways in my brain?

What was it doing to me?

What did Laura want from me so badly that she was willing to bribe a therapist and drug her stepson to acquire it?

I hadn't been thinking clearly after my therapy session, and I'd dashed out before getting the answers to any of these vital inquiries. I could sense my therapist's presence in my mind, the bobbing bubble of her consciousness floating there next to Stephanie's. But it wasn't like we could communicate. I just knew that if I relayed her an order, she would obey.

The elevator slid to a halt.

What...?

I glanced at the number.

No... Not the 26th floor...

The door slid open with a soft

ding

.

Then, who should step through the doors but Mariah, the last person on earth I wanted to see.

* * *

My ex-girlfriend froze when she recognized me, her eyes sharpening.

Her phone was in her hands, and she glanced between me and the screen for a second before she quickly rearranged her features. She stepped into the elevator and turned, leaning against the far wall.

She was wearing a red dress, cute, with a deep V down the front and the kind of skirt that fluttered around her legs when she walked but was short enough to be flirty.

I felt a dull ache in my chest, but tried to ignore it as the elevator doors waited for someone else to come through. I still hated that we lived in the same building.

"You hungover or something?" Her words came with barely a glance over, taking in my dark sunglasses and shabby outfit.

I shrugged. I'd thrown on jeans and an oversized tee, and the shirt wasn't oversized in a 'hip streetwear' kind of way. More in... well... a hangover kind of way, I supposed. I could work with that. "Long night." I tried to ignore the tightening in my chest, the constricting of my throat, the nervousness that assaulted me in her presence.

You're broken up,

I ordered myself, but somehow, even after a year, the feelings were still fresh. The worst thing was, I'd never known why.

Just get to the ground floor, Dilan,

I said, forcing myself to take nice, even breaths. My heart pounded in my ears.

Just 24 floors to go.

I forced myself to ignore the long, slim legs that disappeared up under the skirt, the big, round breasts that looked even bigger on her slim frame. Her thumbs tapped at the screen of her phone, and her nails made soft

click clack

sounds on the glass.

I blinked, struggling not to notice the way her every dark strand of hair curled down to her shoulders, falling around her throat. I tried to silence the voice in the back of my mind that told me to make her mine. It told me I could have anyone I wanted, whenever I wanted them. The voice was almost silent, more of an urge, a deep, powerful urge that rose from the darkest, most primal part of my brain.

I was still battling it down when she spoke.

She didn't glance up. "I'm sorry about your dad, by the way..."

It was the first time she'd said it, the first time she'd acknowledged his death, and I couldn't help myself. Even though my enhanced hearing told me that somewhere, deep down, she truly was sorry, my fist slammed down against the elevator control panel, smacking the red button to bring the car to an immediate stop.

The elevator jolted to a halt and we both stumbled, but I was the first upright, my back straight and my finger rigid with indignation.

"Really?!" I didn't realize I had shouted until she spun to face me with a look of shock transforming her pretty features.

Her dark, wavy hair whipped around her shoulders, falling down her back.

"You think that we can break up, we barely speak for a year, and then you just drop

that

out of the blue?" I was raging, the unstable brew of nervousness, anxiety and confusion that had been hidden beneath the surface erupting all at once.

"Jesus Christ, Dilan—!" Mariah stepped back, her hands coming up defensively.

I hadn't meant to frighten her, but my mouth was already racing ahead. "You're

sorry?!"

I demanded. "You didn't even come to his funeral! You broke up with me less than a week after the crash, and I don't even remember what lame excuse you gave!"

I had taken a step forward without intending to, and she pushed her hands toward me. "Dilan!" She was trying to calm me down, but suddenly all I saw was the glowing screen of her phone in one of her hands. It was open to a text message, one that she'd been halfway into composing.

Normally, the phone would have just been a flash of light in her waving hands. But my vision, even through the dark tint of the sunglasses, was sharper than any normal human. Time seemed to slow down as the letters flashed across my vision and then rearranged them into recognizable patterns.

"Can't find Dilan. Hope he's not in trouble. Text him for me?"

"What's in it for me?"

"... Don't you care about him?"

"Lol. You know better than to try that."

"Fine. Half the price of last time."

"Done."

"I think he's in the building. Or nearby."

Mariah's unfinished message read:

"Found him in the ele—"

My vision went red, because what name should I see at the top of the conversation but "Laura." There was a little purple devil emoji, grinning evilly next to the name, and also several big green dollar signs.

Before my ex could react, my hand had flashed out. I snatched the phone from her grip and reread the messages, withdrawing across the elevator.

The gorgeous brunette gasped, flinching away. "Hey! What..." She seemed to be trying to pull herself together, one hand going to her rapidly rising and falling chest while she stared at me, eyes going wider and wider with horror. "Dilan..." She tried to sound calm, but I could hear the strain in her voice.

"Half the price of last time..." I read aloud, my tone musing. I lifted my chin, staring across the elevator into her face. I could imagine how intimidating I must look: several inches taller than she was, with a muscular frame and these dark sunglasses. "What is

Laura

talking about, Mariah?"

"Dilan... Calm down... Just... let me explain." Without even trying, my ears picked up the tension in her vocal cords, a sign of the stress and panic that was coursing through her body.

Her eyes flicked to the control panel, measuring the distance. Could she reach it before I stopped her? Could she hit an alarm, could she call for help? She obviously thought I was dangerous and unstable.

"Hmm..." I said slowly. "Explain..." Then, I lifted the phone and tapped it thoughtfully against my chin. "I really think that I understand all you have to explain." Suddenly, I grinned. "And I'll have the truth from you anyway."

I

was

dangerous. But not for the reason she thought.

Slowly, I slid the phone into my pocket. Then, I reached over and pressed on the small metal panel next to the elevator keys. It popped open, revealing the number pad where I usually entered the keycode to the penthouse.

What no one else knew was that these executive keypads didn't just unlock the top floor of the building. The right codes would give me control over building security, cameras and access. My father had intended to live here, after all, and this building was practically his most precious possession. He wanted to have ultimate control over it, if he needed.

Glancing between the keypad and Mariah, who watched me with growing horror, I typed in the code Dad had made me memorize. I'd never used it before. It was my mom's birthday — month, day and year, all 8 digits.

Then, I hit enter.

There was a tiny, barely audible,

click

on the edge of my hearing. It took me only a moment to realize that I had just heard the sound of the hidden elevator security camera being switched completely off.

I shouldn't have been able to hear it. But there it was.

"Dilan, don't do anything you'll regret." The lovely brunette had calmed herself, admirably, lifting her chin and staring at me across the space. She had a look of stern disapproval on her features, and maybe once I would have been intimidated.

Now, the dark presence in the back of my mind laughed softly, easily.

This small woman...

it seemed to muse.

No threat to us...

I ignored it, categorizing in my mind under

Problems for Later.

"Mariah..." I said her name slowly, rolling it around in my mouth. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

I lifted my hand, took the corner frame of the sunglasses between my fingers.

"In fact, I think you're going to really enjoy this."

I pulled off the sunglasses, and met her warm brown eyes.

There was a moment of utter silence.

Then, a soft gasp as my ex sucked in a breath of air. Her lips had parted, mouth falling slightly open, her body freezing as she had tensed in anticipation.

I felt the heat of triumph rising in my body, the presence in the back of my mind looming like a living shadow over my shoulders. I could feel the desire coursing through me as well, the raw lust that punched through my last shreds of restraint. Suddenly, I didn't see my ex-girlfriend standing in front of me.

I didn't see all of my doubts, fears and insecurities manifested in a single individual who had hurt me deeply.

I just saw a woman. A gorgeous woman with curves like a goddess. A woman I desired.

A woman I would have.

Mariah's eyes were wide with shock, but she couldn't look away. "What...?" She used the last ounces of her willpower to ask a completely useless, helpless question. "... happened... to your eyes...?"

I shrugged nonchalantly and took a slow, casual stride closer. I felt the familiar tightening in the front of my jeans, the surging tension in my muscles as my desire grew, running through my nerves and making them sing. "Not quite sure," I murmured. A smile curved across my mouth. "But aren't they beautiful?"

I leaned down, bringing my face closer and closer to hers.

Mariah couldn't help but lean in as well, her body unable to resist the thrall of my silver gaze.

"Yes..."

she whispered.

"So beautiful..."

"You just want to fall into them," I murmured. "Fall forward and down and down..."

"Fall down..."

she breathed.

"Down into a nice... obedient... helpless... trance..." The words weren't ones I knew, but they didn't seem to be coming from somewhere else, either. They were welling up from inside me, like a script I'd memorized so long ago that I'd forgotten the origin of the words.