Sian did the only thing she could do, the thing they’d least expect a helpless woman faced with a knife would do: she shrieked at the top of her lungs, shoved out of her captor’s grip—and ran.
She hoped she’d fare better than the hyenas’ prey.
She had only a slight chance to make it across the street and down the last half block to Kai’s building. Her building was not an option. She wouldn’t be able to open all the safety locks before the pack could grab her. And Kai’s building had cameras mounted outside. He’d told her about that once, even had walked her over so she could see them. He wanted her to know that 24/7 there was some security in this rough and ready neighborhood. Was he prescient? Had he foreseen that she might have need of his security precautions?
She thanked God for Kai and his security consciousness—it was her only chance. Whether she wanted to involve him or not, the choice had been taken from her.
She was about to cross the street to the southeast corner of Kai’s building and the location of one of his many cameras. Suddenly, one of the pursuers grabbed her jacket and jerked her to a stop, pulling her around to face him. Was she in camera range? Could someone inside even now be calling the police? Rushing outside to help her? Somehow, she doubted she’d be that lucky.
“Now why’d you wanna go and run like that?” growled her original captor. “You made me look like a chump in front of my guys.”
A knife point pricked the skin below her chin. Tilting her chin up to meet his flinty gaze, he glowered at her in anger.
“We just wanted to get to know you.”
Knife-man squeezed her arm in a cruel grip. He looked around the deserted street, then up at the security lights on Kai’s building. “Let’s get you into the alley where it’s nice and dark—and all cozy-like. Me and the guys haven’t had us a pretty little piece of ass in, oh, at least twenty-four hours.”
Scared—and madder than she could ever remember—Sian slapped at the hand that held the knife, pushing it away from her jugular. Startled by her move, Knife-man lost his grip. The weapon slipped in his hand, cutting him. He screamed “fuck,” and the blade fell to the ground.
“You fucking bitch!” Favoring his injured hand, Knife-man roared as he tightened his grip on Sian.
Ignoring her own pain and the sensation of dripping blood, Sian screamed, punched, and dug in her heels. Knife-man struggled to drag her one-handed toward the alley that ran between her building and a neighboring business.
Nothing she did stopped the inexorable journey to the unrelenting darkness. And no one responded to her frantic, pain-filled screams as they echoed and bounced off the silent, dark buildings.
“Kai!” she screamed as loudly as she could. She recalled that Kai had explained that his surveillance cameras also had audio capability. Maybe someone would hear her, even if they couldn’t see her.
“Shut up, bitch!” Knife-man backhanded her across the face with his bloody hand. His blood spattered across her face, hot on her freezing skin. Nausea swept over her, hot and sickening. Struggling to hold onto consciousness, Sian continued to slap and punch at her captor. Her blows were like using a feather to pry off a steel vice, but she never stopped. To stop would be to die.
“A little help, Roy. The bitch has a mean right and I’m bleeding like a stuck pig,” Knife-man said.
He sounded like he was in pain. Good. She hit him again.
Her captor moaned, followed by a hiss of pain and more foul language. He punished her for his agony by twisting her arm cruelly. She screamed. He backhanded her again. She’d have bruises on her face and arms—if she lived that long. She avoided the thought of where else she’d be bruised if the four followed through on their threats to rape her.
“You’re mine now, bitch,” the man called Roy whispered into her ear as he fastened an arm around her mid-section, then pulled her away from Knife-man. Roy was bigger and stronger than her first captor. He lifted her straight up and off her feet and carried her toward the alley. She clawed at his enveloping arms and struggled, gasping for breath. He was like human duct tape, the more she fought him, the tighter he held onto her.
Knife-man paced alongside them, visibly favoring his wounded hand. “You might as well give up, bitch. We don’t call Roy ’the vice’ for nothing.”
Roy snorted. “Yeah, and guess who gets to hold you for the guys. By the time it’s my turn, you won’t have enough fight in you to need holding.” He licked her neck at the point where the blood dripped onto her jacket collar. “Yummy. Blood—and vanilla. Saul, she sure is tasty. What say we keep her for a while before we trash her?”
“Nah,” Knife-man’s voice responded. “We got paid to do her tonight and it can’t look like no hit. I ain’t crossing the man.”
The man? What man?
There was only one man who wanted her dead—Brucchi must’ve had hired them. He’d found her. But how? And how long had he known her new identity? And why had he made his move tonight right after she was told she had to move again—and not before? Obviously, someone in the WPP had leaked her whereabouts—and the fact that she would be alone on this dark street on this particular night. It had to have been one of her handlers! Too bad she wouldn’t live long enough to share that vital piece of insight.
Damn Brucchi to the deepest regions of Hell and back! She refused to let him win. But how could she escape? The odds were against her. She’d already used her one opportunity at surprise and flight—and had failed. They wouldn’t let her escape so easily again. God knew that she didn’t have the brute strength needed to fight off one, let alone four strong men. She’d already proven that.
A male scream of pure undiluted terror cut through her thoughts. It came from the alley, where Roy now dragged her for her execution. The other two thugs had already entered it when Saul had handed her off to Roy’s less than tender care.
Another horrifying scream followed quickly on the heels of the first. The sound reverberated off the buildings, its tone different from the first, yet eerily the same. Abruptly the screeching was cut off, followed by a loud, ominous gurgling. The sound of a thud punctuated the night. Something, or someone, had been thrown against a wall.
At the sound of the screams, Roy and Saul had stopped just short of the entrance to the murky dead-end passageway. Their breathing had audibly escalated to match Sian’s own frantic, choppy respirations.
Then there was silence. A silence even more horrific than the preceding screams.
A flickering street lamp cast a strobe-like effect over their faces. Her captors were afraid of the unknown threat in the alley.
She didn’t blame them. The two masculine shouts of terror had chilled her to the marrow of her bones.
Something was in the alley. Something that could make hardened killers shriek with fear.
Struggling against Roy’s punishing grip, Sian renewed her efforts to get loose. The odds of escaping wouldn’t get any better than they were right now. Two terrified hoodlums against one motivated, scared woman. Sian couldn’t take the chance that whoever or whatever had handled the other two in the alley was on her side. She only hoped he, or it, was after the gang who’d attacked her and would overlook a mere victim.
Roy tightened his hold on her diaphragm, threatening to break her ribs and severely restricting her air. His knife nudged at her throat, adding a new nick to the others Saul had inflicted. Sian couldn’t help herself and cried out at the sharp pain. More warm blood trickled down her chilled neck. The contrast set her to shivering feverishly. She stilled and attempted to control her trembling, fearing that Roy would just kill her and be done with it.
“Let her go.” A dark, gritty voice boomed from the alleyway. “And you might live.”
“Saul?” Roy’s voice sounded shrill as if someone had his testicles in a vice. “What’re we gonna do?”
Saul’s answer, if he had one, was cut off as he was enveloped by something like black fog. The amorphous mass swirled and rapidly surrounded the man until Sian cou
ld no longer see him, only hear his terrified shrieks.
After what seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes, Saul’s bloodcurdling screams ended. Roy stood as if frozen to the street, low moans and gibberish coming from his mouth. But he never let up on his excruciating hold on her.
“Run, you idiot,” she whispered in a harsh voice that she failed to recognize as her own. Fear must have frozen her larynx, too. “We need to get away from that ... that ... whatever it is.”
Roy ignored her—or maybe in his terror he didn’t even hear her. Hovering mere feet from them, the unearthly cloud shimmered, undulated, and glowed darkly against the night like black satin against dull black velvet.
What was it? Was she seeing things? She blinked several times, but nothing changed what she saw. What was this dark specter that could cause grown men to screech with fear then go deathly silent? And more importantly, whatever it was, would it be her savior or her worst nightmare?
Sian shoved against Roy’s imprisoning arm. “If you don’t want to run, at least, let me go so that I can.”
Roy held on as if she were his lifeline. He kept her between him and the spectral mist. And finally, he began to back away, slowly so as not to draw its attention.
But the lethally silent cloud followed, cutting off their retreat, herding them toward the blind alley from which it had emerged.
Roy’s hand shook so hard that his knife sliced her tender flesh again and again. Sian whimpered from the pain, but managed to match him step for step, afraid that if she struggled the sharp knife would cut her jugular.
“Let her go.” The same rumbling voice ordered.
A sense of familiarity niggled at her mind, but any chance at placing the voice was lost as Roy stumbled over something on the street. He barely managed to keep both of them upright. His knife cut deeper and she screamed.
The dark cloud rumbled like thunder and snaked toward them. Roy cried out a strangled, garbled litany of words. His arm squeezed her against his body so hard that she bit her lip to keep from screaming out in pain.
Sian strained her neck away from the punishing knife. She gasped for every breath she took now. Spots and flashes of light floated across her field of vision. If she couldn’t take a full breath soon, she’d expire on the spot from lack of oxygen.
Roy’s grasp on her loosened. He gibbered away, fear making his words unintelligible and shrill. She couldn’t care less about his fear. She could breathe again. She dropped her head, sucking in air. It was then that she saw what had caused Roy to jabber in terror. It was Saul’s body. He lay on the ground. Motionless.
Was the man dead? Would they find two other corpse-like bodies in the alley? Because that was where they headed, their only path of retreat from the slow-moving darkness.
They entered the alley, followed closely by the lethal apparition. On the ground and vaguely revealed by the green glow of an EXIT sign over her building’s service entrance lay two human-shaped masses. Neither body moved.
Sian shuddered and felt an answering tremor race through Roy’s body.
“One more time...” The voice from the cloud boomed.
The amoeba-like shape quivered, slithered closer, then cornered Roy and her between it and the alley’s dead end. The glow of the EXIT sign bathed the unusual standoff between her captor and a roiling, hovering mass of effervescent dark matter. Roy—or she—couldn’t get to the street and safety without going through the darkness.
“Let her go.” The words rumbled like thunder chasing lightning.
“No!” shrieked Roy. “You’ll kill me like you did the others.”
“Kill?” The cloud wiggled wildly as the sound of its laughter ricocheted within the small area. “They aren’t dead, only unconscious. You’ll know death soon—and it won’t be an easy one—unless you let Sian go.”
Sian shuddered at the cold certainty in the threat—and at the mention of her name. This cloud, or whatever it was, knew her. It seemed to want to protect her.
Roy whimpered and squeezed her hard against him. “Stay back. I’ll kill her. I will.”
The pressure on her ribs was excruciating. Her breath escaped in a garbled scream.
“Sian!” The dark cloud’s voice roared.
The roiling mass surged forward. Moving like a thundercloud propelled by tornadic winds, it tore her from Roy’s grip. And despite the force of its forward momentum, the misty darkness laid her gently on the ground before turning back to Roy who had begun to back away.
Sian attempted to stand, but the pain in her ribs defeated her struggle. She collapsed to the alley’s filth. Leaning weakly against a trash bin, she watched as Roy’s attempt to escape failed.
Within the closeness of the alley, Roy’s terrified shrieks vibrated across her skin like hundreds of crawling spiders. She shuddered, closed her eyes and clenched her teeth against the unceasing agony. Roy’s escalating screams of terror accompanied her into the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness.
Chapter Two
As Kai held Sian’s shivering, unconscious body against his, he spoke tersely into a cellular mike, “Derek! Are you listening?”
God, she was so damn cold! And bloody. She needed medical help, but he also needed to interrogate the bastards that had dared to touch her—to terrorize her.
“Yeah, boss?” Derek’s calm voice came over the mike. “What’s happening out there? Stu said he saw motion across the street.”
“That was me handling some badasses. They attacked Sian. Get some men over to the alley on the west side of Sian’s building for damage control.” Kai eyed the four unconscious men. “And get some of the drugs we appropriated from that last deal in South America. I have a better use for them than burning them in the incinerator.”
“Gotcha. Is Sian okay?” Derek’s voice held tension—and concern.
“No. Call Mack and tell him I need a house call,” Kai said. “Sian’s bleeding. Knife wounds. Bring some blankets. And, Derek, I’ll need you to carry her into the building for me while I finish up out here.”
“You got it, boss.” Derek began issuing orders even before Kai clicked the button to disconnect the transmission. Derek Trainer had been his right-hand man since he’d mustered out of Special Forces and joined Kai’s security firm. Sian would be safe until Kai could see to her himself.
Snowflakes melting on his face reminded him that Sian wasn’t dressed for the weather. He needed to warm her as best he could until Derek got there.
Kai gathered Sian high against his chest, then braced his back against the side of the building and slid down it until he sat on the ground. He stretched his legs in front of him and then settled Sian’s limp body more fully onto his lap, wrapping her inside his open jacket. It was the best he could do.
Still, she shivered in waves accentuated by gusty moans. God, she was so bloody that he could almost taste it in the air. He didn’t even want to imagine what other injuries she might have sustained before he’d managed to eliminate her attackers one-by-one.
Goddammit! Her injuries were all his fault. If he hadn’t hung back so far ... shit, he must be losing his touch. He should’ve kept a closer eye on her. His only excuse was that he hadn’t anticipated an attack.
“Stop rationalizing, Axton,” he mumbled under his breath as he gently chafed Sian’s arms in an attempt to warm her. “You’re a fucking security expert. You suspected that she had trouble in her past. You should’ve taken more precautions, dumbass.”
To give himself some credit, Kai had shadowed Sian fairly closely after she first left the parking garage. Using the molecular-deconstructed form that he’d learned as a child from his wizard grandmother, he’d only been ten to fifteen feet behind Sian. Although he’d melded with the shadows, somehow Sian had sensed his presence. Rather than spooking her further, he’d dropped back. That was where he’d made his mistake.
When Sian had screamed his name, his first impulse had been to rush in and to hell with the consequences. Quickly he’d seen that r
ash actions would more than likely get her throat slit. The icy calm of reason prevailed as he fell back on his training to plan and execute Sian’s rescue.
The image of Sian lying unconscious and bloody in a filthy alley would be one that never left him if he lived to be five hundred. Even with her safely in his arms the memory made him want to roar his anguish to the sky. He wanted to break bricks with his bare hands. He wanted to kill somebody.
His molten glance swept over the four men. He could kill them now and no one would miss them. No one. But to kill in the heat of battle was justifiable; after all, that was war. But to kill in the cold aftermath was against all his principles and would make him no better than the thugs lying in the cold, wet alley.
No, he’d let the Chicago Police Department have them—after he’d gotten all the information out of them about this attack on Sian. Their weapons, their gang colors and the drugs he’d plant on them would guarantee that they would go away for a long, long time. He smiled grimly. And if they ever did get out on the streets again, he’d know about it and make their lives a living hell.
“Kai, where are you?” Derek’s voice came from the entrance to the alley.
“Back here. Just past the side service entrance.”
Sian moaned. Kai kissed her ear, then her cheek. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. You’re fine now.” She quieted and settled bonelessly against him. Her trembling had tapered off since he’d surrounded her with his warmth.
The beam from a powerful flashlight swept over them.
“Shit, boss,” Derek said. “You’re half in and half out of your mist form.”
“It was the only way to keep Sian off the ground and to shelter her from the snow.”
“Why didn’t you just give her your jacket? It would have come to her knees, she’s so much smaller than you,” said Amanda Stevens, one of his top female operatives.
Kai re-materialized, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just needed to hold her.”
Amanda mumbled “Well, you could’ve done both” under her breath as she held out the blankets she’d brought with her.
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