{"id":557,"date":"2026-01-03T20:46:24","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T20:46:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/women-of-otherworld-07-no-humans-involved-armstrong-kelley\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T20:46:24","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T20:46:24","slug":"women-of-otherworld-07-no-humans-involved-armstrong-kelley","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/women-of-otherworld-07-no-humans-involved-armstrong-kelley\/","title":{"rendered":"Women of Otherworld 07 – No Humans Involved – Armstrong, Kelley"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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I<\/p>\n

B<\/span>rendan struggled to stay awake. A tough battle\u2014far tougher than it should have been under the circumstances.<\/p>\n

They\u2019d approached him behind a bank, its parking lot empty as evening turned to night. He\u2019d been cutting through to the shelter, hoping it would still have meals. Hot meals would be too much to hope for at that hour, but he\u2019d settle for free.<\/p>\n

The bank had erected a fence between itself and the shelter to stem the flow of kids taking the shortcut from the bus stop. Brendan had been halfway up when the woman had hailed him. Fearing trouble, he\u2019d only climbed faster, until she\u2019d laid a hand on his calf and he\u2019d turned to see not cops, but a middle-aged couple\u2014well-dressed professional types.<\/p>\n

They\u2019d told him some story about losing their son to the streets and devoting their lives to helping other kids. Bullshit, of course. In real life, everyone wanted something. Despite their sincere smiles and concerned eyes, he\u2019d decided that what they wanted was sex. And, as long as they were willing to pay for it, that was okay with him.<\/p>\n

It wouldn\u2019t be the first trick he\u2019d turned. He\u2019d briefly teamed up with a kid from the shelter, until Ricky had found a better-looking partner. Brendan should have taken this as a sign. If he wasn\u2019t good-looking enough to be a whore in L.A. he sure as hell wasn\u2019t going to make it as a movie star. But it was too late to go home now. Too late to admit he didn\u2019t have what it took. Too hard to face everyone who\u2019d told him so.<\/p>\n

He did have talent. Won the top role in every school play. Got a job at the summer theater three years running. Did two TV commercials for local businesses. So, at sixteen, tired of his parents telling him to go to college first, he\u2019d taken his savings and come to L.A.<\/p>\n

Now the money was gone and he\u2019d found no decent way to earn more, and if this couple wanted what he figured they wanted, that was fine by him. They had kind faces. Maybe in Hollywood that didn\u2019t count for shit, but where he\u2019d come from it meant something.<\/p>\n

They\u2019d driven him to their home in Brentwood. He\u2019d recognized the neighborhood from a \u201cStar Tours\u201d bus trip he\u2019d taken when he first arrived. He\u2019d sat in the back of their SUV, peering out the tinted windows into the night, watching the fabled neighborhood pass. They\u2019d pulled into the garage of a modest-looking house, then led him inside. They\u2019d offered food, but he\u2019d claimed he wasn\u2019t hungry, despite his rumbling stomach. He might be naive, but he knew better than to accept food or drink.<\/p>\n

When they\u2019d taken him downstairs, through a TV room into a guest bedroom, he\u2019d been certain this was where the situation would change. But they\u2019d only turned on the lights, pointed out the adjoining washroom and said they\u2019d see him in the morning. They hadn\u2019t even closed the door, but left it ajar, so he wouldn\u2019t feel locked in.<\/p>\n

Now, as he fought the urge to sleep, footsteps sounded on the stairs. The woman\u2019s voice, sharp with an accent. Then the man\u2019s. Then another man\u2019s. And another\u2026<\/p>\n

Oh, shit.<\/p>\n

Heart hammering, he tried to rouse himself. Why was he so tired? Goddamn it, he had to make a break for it, before he found himself in the middle of a gang bang or\u2014<\/p>\n

Outside, in the TV room, the woman offered refreshments. Two of the men asked for wine, the third accepted water. Then their voices settled into one place, as if they were sitting.<\/p>\n

Wine and conversation as a prelude to sex games with a teenage boy?<\/p>\n

Brendan strained to make out their words. They were talking about books. \u201cTexts\u201d as they called them, tossing around words like \u201cbelief\u201d and \u201critual,\u201d debating the different translated meanings of Hebrew and Latin versions.<\/p>\n

Latin. That\u2019s what the woman had been speaking earlier. As he\u2019d been getting into their car, she had been saying something to the man in another language, and with her accent, Brendan had figured she was reverting to her mother tongue to relay a private message. The language, though, had sounded familiar. Now he knew why. As a Christmas and Easter Catholic, he\u2019d heard enough Latin.<\/p>\n

Now these people were discussing religious texts, and that couldn\u2019t be a coincidence. The couple had said they wanted to help, as penance for their mistakes with their son. Good Samaritans.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014too old,\u201d one man was saying, his voice rising enough for Brendan to hear him easily. \u201cAll of our success has been with kids much younger, and I don\u2019t understand why we need to change that now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe aren\u2019t changing,\u201d another man said. \u201cWe\u2019re expanding and experimenting. There\u2019s a limited supply of younger children out there and it\u2019s difficult getting access to them. If we can adjust the procedure to work successfully with teens, we open the door to limitless possibilities.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019s right.\u201d The woman again. \u201cOne or two a year isn\u2019t enough, not for the scale we\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice dropped soothingly until, once again, Brendan could only catch the odd word.<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t blame them for setting their sights on children. By his age, most street kids had no interest in \u201crescue.\u201d They were too immersed in the life to accept help. But he would. Drugs weren\u2019t a problem\u2014he\u2019d never been able to afford them. They could spout all the Bible verses they wanted and he\u2019d smile and agree if it meant getting on a bus home. He could tell his parents he hadn\u2019t failed;<\/em> he\u2019d just had a religious experience and had changed his mind.<\/p>\n

He closed his eyes and pictured himself walking up his drive, imagined his mother\u2019s face, his little sister\u2019s squeals, his father\u2019s expression\u2014stern but relieved.<\/p>\n

The conversation outside his door seemed to have turned to a heated debate on the nature of suffering. Yeah,<\/em> he thought with a chuckle, definitely Catholic<\/em>. From what he could make out, it sounded a hell of a lot like a conversation between two Goths he\u2019d overheard last week.<\/p>\n

Morbid. The word popped into his head and he turned it over in his mind. A cool word. Described Goths and some religious types alike\u2014that fixation with death and suffering.<\/p>\n

In the room beyond, a male voice had picked up volume again.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014Romans used crucifixion not only because it was publicly humiliating, but for the degree of suffering inflicted. With the weight of the body pulling down, breathing becomes difficult, and the condemned could hang for days, slowly suffocating.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrue, but according to accounts of the witch trials, burning was the worst way to die. If you keep the person from dying from smoke inhalation, they can live a surprisingly long time, and suffer unimaginable pain.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brendan shivered. Okay, that went beyond morbid. Maybe these weren\u2019t mainstream religious do-gooders, but some kind of fanatical sect. Like the Scientologists or something. Most religious people he knew were good folks, but there were wackos. As much as he wanted to go home, he wouldn\u2019t put up with any kind of sick shit. He should get up, go in there, maybe tell them he\u2019d changed his mind. But he was so tired.<\/p>\n

The voices had stopped. Good. He\u2019d rest for a few more minutes, then sneak out\u2014<\/p>\n

The door opened. In walked the man and woman, followed by three others: a younger woman, a balding man and a white-haired one.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Brendan,\u201d said the woman.<\/p>\n

Brendan struggled to his feet. \u201cI want to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman nodded. Then she stepped forward, lifted her hand to her mouth and blew. A cloud of white dust flew into Brendan\u2019s face. He tried to cough, but only wheezed. She started speaking in Latin again and his knees gave way. Two of the men rushed to grab him, each taking an arm, their grips gentle as they helped him to his feet.<\/p>\n

The men lifted his arms around their shoulders. His eyelids flagged and closed. His feet dragged across the floor as they took him into a second, smaller room. The men exchanged words, then lowered him to the floor. A cold, hard floor.<\/p>\n

He opened his eyes. There, from high above, a dog stared down at him. A terrier, like his sister\u2019s dog. But there was something wrong\u2026<\/p>\n

Legs. It didn\u2019t have any legs. Just a torso and a head perched on the edge of an overhang, watching him.<\/p>\n

Hallucinating.<\/p>\n

Drugged?<\/p>\n

He should care\u2014knew he should care\u2014but he couldn\u2019t work up the energy. He squeezed his eyes shut and huddled there, too weak to even think. He heard them talking and he could tell they were speaking English, but deciphering the meaning of the words required too much energy, so he just listened to the sound and let it lull him.<\/p>\n

Liquid splashed onto his back, seeping through his shirt. Cold and wet and stinking of something he should recognize. Then, as he was about to drift off, his wandering brain identified the smell.<\/p>\n

Gasoline.<\/p>\n

He snapped awake, panicked, telling his arms and legs to move, his mouth to scream, but nothing obeyed. He cracked open his eyes just enough to see the people filing from the room. The woman stopped in front of him and bent. Her smiling lips parted, saying something reassuring. Then she struck the match.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Book Preview I Brendan struggled to stay awake. A tough battle\u2014far tougher than it should have been under the circumstances. They\u2019d approached him behind a bank, its parking lot empty as evening turned to night. He\u2019d been cutting through to the shelter, hoping it would still have meals. Hot meals would be too much to … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":556,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[27],"class_list":["post-557","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-kelley-armstrong"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=557"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/556"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=557"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=557"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=557"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}